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#tom holland angst
perspectiive · a day ago
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                               „And ACTION!“ 
                   Social Media Au (T.Holland)
                                    ╚════════════════════╝
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—— ☾ 
o. Take 03 [Masterlist]
—— ☾ 
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@y/nhadid : lmao bella, you did not 💀
↳ @bellahadid : someone had too
@fanaccounto : i wanna have a sister like, y/n :/
@fanacxount2 : I LOVE YOU BOTH
@fanaccount3 : 🧿😘😘
@hateaccount1 : y/n trying so bad to be like her sisters 💀
↳ @fanaccount4 : why u so mad 👀
@gigihadid : we miss you both so much 💞
↳ @bellahadid : miss you guys too 🤍
@kendalljenner : beauties 🤍
↳ @bellahadid : 🥰
@anwarspc : sick!
↳ @bellahadid : im with the better twin 🤪
@ dualipa : ahhh, can’t wait to see you guys again!!!
↳ @bellahadid : 💞
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@y/nhadid : i love you ♥️
↳ @ tomholland2013 : love u more 😊♥️
@lifeisaloha : you doing great, sweetieee
↳ @ tomholland2013 : eh, thank you?
@fanaccount1 : SO HANDSOME INCAAANT
@fanaccount2 : HE TAGGED HER ON HIS HEART
↳ @fanaccount2 : LITERALLY HES SO PERFECT
↳ hateaccount1 : gen z simping for everything that breaths
@hateaccount2 : tomdaya always and forever ❤️
↳ @account : why do people care so much about other peoples love interest? Let him be happy with her lmao
↳ @fanaccount3 : so rude
↳ @fanaccount4 : just let him be happy with her
@harrisonosterfield : looking good ma man
↳ @ tomholland2013 : someone had too
@tuwaine: my brotheeerrrr from another mother!!
↳ @y/nhadid : wait, I thought ur his twin?
↳ @tuwaine : absolutely
↳ @ tomholland2013 : twinny ♥️
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TAGLIST (tag yourself here) :
@loxbbg @fairysums @wanniiieeee @lilacsandwhiskey
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spookyscarytom · a day ago
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heartbroke desperado
heartbroke desperado
arvin russell x reader
sand in my boots by morgan wallen heavily inspired this; no i do not agree with his actions i just really like this song
  “hey kid, wake up. we’re in cincinatti.” as arvin woke up, he stretched and began trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes.
“thank you, sir. i’d give you some money but ‘m afraid i don’t have a whole lot to give.” the man shook his head and grabbed arvin by the shoulder.
“its alright, kid. you just stay safe out here, yeah?” arvin nodded, thanking the man again. he grabbed the small bag he brought with him and walked away from the hippie.
 after walking for what felt like forever, arvin found a park that seemed to have a small beach. he contemplated it for a minute but eventually decided to see what it was all about. he walked up to the shore and stood for a moment, taking it all in, not realizing he had caught someone’s attention.
“you ain’t never seen a beach before?” the girl was now standing by arvin, tilting her head at him.
“what? oh-um-i mean no, not really. only seen ‘em in pictures.” he took a deep breath and turned towards her, his breath immediately catching in his throat. she was beautiful. she had y/h/l, y/h/c hair with the most beautiful y/e/c eyes he had ever seen. she was a bit shorter than him and he liked that. he only realized he was staring when he noticed she had a confused look on her face. “sorry, um, i’m arvin.” she smiled at him and stuck out her hand.
“hey arvin, i’m y/n. are you from here?”
“no, i’m from, well you ain’t never been there.” he shook his head. “where’re you from?”
“oh, i grew up in toledo. i just moved here to go to college.” she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear as she looked at arvin and then looked back out at the water. “were you planning on getting in the water?”
“i-uh-i don’t know. i thought about it. were you?”
“come on, boy. lets get you out in this water.” he laughed at her attempt to talk in his accent and she giggled. as she stripped down to her bathing suit, arvin tried his hardest to be respectful and not stare. clearing his throat, he stripped down to his underwear and let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding in.
she bit her lip and grabbed his hand, running into the water with him. as they swam, they began to talk and get to know each other. arvin learned that y/n came from a nice family and had a dog named pop that she absolutely adored. she was in college to be a teacher, just like her mama. she learned he had a dog named jack as a kid and that he had been living with his grandma, uncle, and sister for a long time. he refused to tell her why and she respected that. he told her he didn’t really have anywhere to stay or anything to do in cincinatti but that he enjoyed it so far. without thinking, she made him an offer he couldn’t refuse.
“well, if you don’t have anywhere to stay, why don’t you stay with me and my grandma? she owns a little inn downtown and i’m sure she’d be willing to let you stay and maybe even work for her?” y/n smiled at the thought of arvin staying around.
“i would love that, y/n. i plan on getting back on the road soon but i sure would appreciate a warm bed for a night or two.”
her shoulders slumped at the thought of him leaving, even though she had only just met him. “well, cowboy, it would be my pleasure to take you to the finest inn in cincinatti.” she smiled and grabbed his hand. she led him back to the shore, where they both dried off and got dressed. after getting in her small car, she began driving to her grandma’s inn.
“here we are! the finest inn in cincinatti.” she turned the car off and hopped out, holding her arms up in a ‘ta-da’ motion, trying to give arvin the full effect.
“the monroe plaza, huh? looks real nice.” he slung his bag over his shoulder and followed her inside. there, he saw a small old woman standing behind a counter, talking to y/n.
“grandma, this is arvin. he’s new here and he don’t have a place to stay.” arvin nodded at the older woman and stuck his hand out for her to shake.
“hello, ma’am. your granddaughter said you’ve got the finest inn in cincinatti and i believe she was right.” he took his hand out of hers and tightened his baseball cap on his head.
“well, thank you, arvin. we sure do try to keep it intact. now what was this about you not having anywhere to stay?”
 ✰✰✰✰
 after arvin got settled in and thanked the old woman a thousand times along with offering his help if she ever needed it, he realized y/n had disappeared. he sighed and fell back on the bed, the relaxation not lasting long before he heard someone beating on the door. terrified, he grabbed his gun and held it behind his back, slowly opening the door. there, in all her glory, stood y/n holding several bottles of alcohol. he let out a deep breath of relief and let her in.
“so, i’ve got bourbon, whiskey, and tequila. personally, i enjoy tequila but i know you cowboys like to drink whiskey, so i brought that too. the bourbon is just in case you don’t like either.” she set the bottles down and began looking for glasses or cups in the small room. “aha, perfect!” she found two small glasses in one of the cabinets and began pouring herself a cup before offering arvin his glass.
he let out a small laugh and poured himself a glass of whiskey. she led him to the balcony outside, where they sat and looked at the stars as they drank.
“damn, that sky looks perfect.” she took a sip of her drink and looked at the sky. she looked so peaceful and arvin was secretly jealous. after all that he’d done, he wondered if he’d ever be able to feel peace like that again. he took a sip of his own drink and propped his feet up on the small fence.
“it does, but you haven’t seen a perfect sky or stars until you’ve seen the ones back home.” he joined her in looking up at the sky, thinking of emma and his uncle earskell, and wondering if they were looking at the sky, too. he wondered about their reactions to his letter and what emma would say if she found out what he’d done and where he was now. refusing to seem weak and upset, he shook his head and took another sip of his whiskey. “i mean, them ones back home are more than perfect, honestly.”
“oh yeah? maybe i should see ‘em for myself.” she bit her lip as she smiled at arvin. arvin felt his face heat up as he looked down.
“y-yeah, yeah maybe you should.” his heart raced when he felt her cold hand on the side of his face. when he looked up at her, they were only centimeters apart. she took a deep breath and connected their lips. fire and butterflies erupted throughout both of their bodies as they deepened the kiss.
after what felt like a million years, but still not long enough, she pulled away and pressed her forehead against his. “maybe we should take this inside, yeah?” arvin nodded before grabbing her hand and following her inside.
✰✰✰✰
arvin and y/n were now face to face in the small bed, breathing heavily after the conclusion of their previous actions. arvin was wondering how long he should stay here in cincinatti. he wanted to get to know y/n better but he knew he had to get as far away from knockemstiff and meade as he possibly could. a couple of hours just weren’t enough for him, and he knew word traveled fast. it wouldn’t be too long before the people of cincinatti found out about his crimes and he didn’t want to bring y/n into any of this. he moved her hair out of her face and sighed.
she had a soft smile on her face as she relished in his touch. “so, arvin, how long are you planning on staying?”
“oh, i don’t really know. i was planning on just stopping by and staying for a night so i can get back on the road. i’ve got, um, family in georgia that i’m planning on staying with and they’re expecting me pretty soon.” arvin gulped and prayed that she couldn’t tell he was lying. of course, he wanted to tell her everything but he just couldn’t. there was no way she would look at him the same and he didn’t want to throw all of his problems on her. he decided that she was too kind-hearted to be caught up in something like this, something like him.
“oh, that’s nice. i sure do wish you could stay longer, but i understand.” she looked so sad and arvin felt awful, but, he knew he couldn’t tell her the truth. she rolled over on her side, back facing arvin, and pulled the covers up to her chin.
arvin panicked, not wanting to make her upset. before he even realized it, he was inviting her to come with him.
“what?” she turned around and had a confused look on her face.
“yeah, yeah, why don’t you come with me?” he gulped and tried to read her expression.
“you can’t be serious. what about my college? my grandma?”
“what about it?’ arvin shrugged and looked at her as she made a straight face.
“arvin, we just met like 9 hours ago and now you’re wanting me to go across the country with you? how do i know you’re not a murderer or something?” his eyes widened as he took in her last sentence. she noticed this and rolled her eyes. “arvin, relax. i know you’re too much of a softie to do anything like that.”
he let out a nervous laugh and nodded his head. “if you only knew the truth”, he thought.
“why don’t you just meet me in the morning?” he put his hand on her cheek and rubbed the soft skin with his thumb.
“arvin, you’re crazy.” she shook her head, got up, and began putting her clothes on.
arvin sat up, not expecting her to leave. she placed one last kiss to his lips and took his image in one more time. “goodbye, arvin.” she walked out the door and made her way outside the inn, crying softly once she got inside her small car and began driving to her grandma’s house.
✰✰✰✰
 in the morning, arvin got up and began getting dressed. he could barely sleep last night. he couldn’t stop thinking about y/n and contemplating staying here to get to know her better and eventually become more than friends. after getting all of his things together and making up the bed he made memories he would never forget slept in, he made his way to the door. taking one last look at the small room, he turned around, shut the door and began walking away. he thanked her grandma again and made his way to the bus stop. sitting on the small bench, he began bouncing his leg, wondering if she would show up. yeah, sure, she did have college and a whole life here, and it wouldn’t be wise of her to leave everything behind to go god-knows-where with a man she barely knew, but he still thought that maybe, just maybe, she’d show up. even if she didn’t go with him, he still silently prayed that she’d at least come to say goodbye.
hearing someone sit beside him, he looked up. “y/n?” he said, surprised. the old man, who was definitely not y/n, looked confused and arvin’s face turned bright red. embarrassed, he apologized and continued waiting for the bus. after about 30 minutes, he began to accept his fate. y/n was not coming to apologize and he should have known that. once the bus showed up, he stood up and looked around one more time, just to make sure she was not on her way. with his head down, arvin boarded the bus and chose a seat in the very back. staring at the window, he fell asleep again, wondering what would have happened if he would have been able to stay.
 ✰✰✰✰
 out of breath, y/n opened the door to the room once occupied by arvin. hearing someone in the bathroom, she sighed a breath of relief. “arvin, thank god you’re still h-“ she paused as she was met with her grandma, and not arvin. her grandma sighed and stopped cleaning the small bathroom. “i’m sorry darling, he left early this morning. i figured you knew or that y’all said goodbye last night.”
y/n’s heart dropped to her toes as she stepped back. “oh, um, yeah, we did. thank you, grandma.” her grandma smiled at her and picked her cleaning back up. y/n walked out of the inn and back to her car. silently, she started her car and began driving home, wondering what could have been.
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hogwartsmarvelmommy · 21 hours ago
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Second chances and unspoken promises (TH) 🔥
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Word count: 7.2k
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Summary: three years since the fall of your secret relationship, and a journey back to the place it all started. You could be leaving even more heartbroken, or maybe the stars will align and it'll be your time.
Warnings: some angst, fluff, smut. Secret relationship. Talk of a long secret relationship during early years. Break up, slight insecurities, overall I think that's it (let me know if you see anything I didn't mention)
Additional warnings: oral (f receiving) fingering, showering together, unprotected sex (don't be silly)
A/n this took me so long to finish 🙄 but here it finally is 😁
~~~
Your tires skidded to a stop on the blanket of white snow that led up the driveway of the large secluded cabin. The weather had progressively gotten worse from when you had first begun your drive until now, visibility dwindling quickly due to the large snowflakes fluttering down. You were sure with how heavily the snow was falling, by morning all the cars that lined the large drive would be covered. 
It had been a few years since all of you had made the journey up, everyone's life becoming jam packed, and busy. This trip itself was a last minute plan. Sam had called just a few days prior, insisting you join. Something about a dire need for nostalgia or something to the effect. 
The December's up here we're rough. Quite often having blizzards that would bury the cabin owners in for days, but even that didn't stop the Hollands. This year only the three eldest boys, and close friends Harrison Osterfeild and Tuwaine Barrett, had made the trek up, knowing the weather forecast was warning of a hefty snow storm. 
You had been coming up to the Hollands family cabin since you were a tot, when your parents would accompany you, you were on every trip, so much so you had your own room, separated from the boys as you were always the only girl. This cabin was the place you had your first kiss, the place you lost your virginity, and it was also the place your heart had been broken into a million pieces. 
You weren't sure exactly what had made you say yes, knowing the last time you stood inside the four walls, your world had crumbled down around you. Maybe it was curiosity, maybe it was just because you were reluctant to believe that that had really been the end.. three long years, and you were still just as in love with him as you were the first time you kissed him at only eleven, under the stairs in the potter closet. 
You took a deep breath before shutting off your engine, not actually prepared to deal with the chill that was going to take over as soon as you opened the door to walk to the boot and collect your bag. You pushed the door open, swinging your feet out to the plush snow that was still coming down, you could get your bag and run, but that ran the risk of falling on your ass and making yourself freeze, or you could just endure the two minutes max it would take you. 
You relentlessly walked to the back of the car, grabbing your heavy bag and lighter one as well before walking up the not so recently shoveled path. 
You could hear the words echoing in your head as you neared the front door. "Your not enough y/n, your not worth it," the words had shattered you, making you feel less than a dirty tissue. You stood in the door that day, as you watched the love of your life leave, destined to do spectacular things, leaving you behind and broken. The worst part? No one had ever known what had gone on between the two of you. Years, of secret meet ups, stolen kisses, and dumb excuses. 
The closest anyone had ever come to finding the truth was the winter of 2018, when Sam had seen Tom leaving your room in the middle of the night, hair a mess and sweaty as he sneaked back to his room. Somehow you had managed to convince him he had imagined the whole thing.. you still weren't sure how that had worked in your favor. 
You took the final steps to the large oak door, glancing at the slab of concrete that held each of your hand prints embedded next to your names, ordered from oldest to youngest. Toms, yours, Sam's, Harry's and then Paddy's little baby hand, him barely being a year when you had made the sweet memory.
"Alright," you whispered as you turned the handle stepping into the toasty cabin. The smell of pasta hit you instantly, something you were sure Sam was whipping up. You heard loud conversations coming from in the main family room, with light music playing in the background. You dropped your bags down next to the staircase, slipping your boots off and onto the mat, and then stripping your heavy coat off, leaving you in just leggings, a light hoodie, and your maroon beanie. Nerves picking up at this point, unaware of who was here yet, and how you would be greeted, having not seen everyone in so long. There was a pattering coming towards you as you looked over to see the grown staffy running at you. "Hi Tess," you sang as you got to her level, letting her greet you with slobbery kisses. "Missed you too darling," you told her as you scratched her head. 
"Tessa?" Tom called, rounding the corner and stopping at the sight of you with the pup, a sight he had seen before, when she was smaller, and you were his. "Hi," he whispered. 
You glanced up, smiling before getting to your feet, Tess not leaving your side. "Hi Tommy," you said, barely above a whisper. Neither of you moved, standing there just looking at each other as if you were in a standoff, waiting to see who would do or say something first. 
"Hey Tom do you- oh my god Y/n's here," Harry yelled pushing past his stunned older brother to wrap you in a long overdue hug. "Missed you kid," he told you, squeezing you too tight. 
"Harry," you giggled, swatting at his curly red hair. 
"Sorry, sorry. It's just been so long," he pointed out.
"Y/n?" Sam's voice was eager as he rounded the corner, nearly in a Sprint as he made his way to you. "God I'm so glad you came!" He screeched as he lifted you into his arms.  
"Me too," you hummed, returning the hug. 
"C'mon, let's go introduce you to everyone," Harry urged, grabbing your hand. 
"Everyone?" You asked in confusion. 
"Harrison, Tuwaine, and Sam's girlfriends," Harry told you. You nodded, not being aware there would be other girls on the trip. The news actually excited you, maybe the estrogen would calm the boys down from being so rowdy and rambunctious. 
"Grace, Molly, Clark-" Harry announced, making the three girls turn towards you. "This is Y/n y/l/n, our oldest friend,"
The three girls got up making their way to you, as the four of you exchanged pleasantries. 
"We have heard so much about you!" Gracie exclaimed. 
"I'm really glad to finally not be the only girl up here," you admitted as you were ushered over to sit with the three of them. 
Meanwhile, Tom was still standing in the front hall, not sure what to do with himself. He had thought that seeing you would be easy. You were just y/n, after all. But when his eyes met yours, the pink hue of your cheeks and nose, sent his mind rushing back to years prior, when he would pull you into the potter closet, freshly in from the snow, kissing the tip of your nose and cradling your hands as he attempted to warm you up. You would never know how much he had loved you, how much he had appreciated and cherished every stolen moment the two of you had shared together, up until the last one. The words still burned his throat, remembering the look on your face as he said them, desperate to not hurt you, but he somehow had managed to screw that up. He had just wanted to let you live your life, not following him around as his life had gotten too overwhelming, he hadn't wanted to put that stress on you, knowing you would have endured it for him, even if it killed you. 
But to see you, just a few steps from him, letting Tess slobber on you with her kisses, nose red, cheeks rosy, in your signature cold outfit, wearing his old hoodie. He wanted to take it all back, he wanted to have crossed the distance pulling you into his arms, burying his face in your neck as he whispered how badly he missed you, and then to pull away, to meet your lips with his, in a warm kiss, a kiss that would bring it all back, every broken promise, every missed opportunity, every longing feeling..
"You alright mate?" Haz asked, bringing Tom out of his head.
"M'allright," Tom lied, knowing Harrison could see right through him, he was the only one who knew, knew how desperately Tom had loved you, how crushed he had been when he called things off, how hard it had been as he walked away from who he was sure was the one. You had been his first, first kiss, first shag, first love, first heartbreak… and he desperately wanted you to be his last. Last love, last kiss, last goodnight, last person he held in his arms on his deathbed. He was sure there was no way, not with the look you had given him three years prior, tears threatening to spill over the brim of your eyes, bottom lip quivering, as you just watched him leave, watched him walk out of your life with no promise to ever return..
This was sure to be a long trip.. 
You nestled your way between Harry and Tess laying your head on Harry's shoulder with your hot chocolate in your hands listening to the conversation they were all having. The fire in the wood burning stove was blazing, radiating a heat that was warming you all to the core. Dinner had come and gone with some slight small talk, leading to everyone shifting to the family room. Sam was in the middle of telling Tuwaine something, to which you weren't paying attention when Molly asked you a question. 
"So y/n, do you have a boyfriend?" She asked, politely.  Your cheeks flushed red as you lifted your head from where it was resting on Harry's shoulder before. 
"No, no boyfriend," you told her with a chuckle.
"Really?" Grace interjected, now solely intrigued with the gossip. "How long since you had one?" She wondered. 
"Three years, actually, pretty close to the day," you took a deep breath all to aware of Tom's, eyes directly on you from across the couch. 
"Three years? Must have been some heartbreak," Clark said, a pitying look on her face. Truth be told, Tom was never your boyfriend, never having put a label on whatever it was the two of you had been doing, but she was right, it was definitely 'some heartbreak'.
"Yeah, I just wasn't enough," you said quietly, an ache in your chest knowing the man who had said those words sitting just a short distance from you. 
"No way," Clark shook her head. "He wasn't good enough for you," she shot you a sweet smile. 
"That's true," Tom muttered from where he had been sitting quietly on the couch, making all the girls turn towards him. 
"Did you know him?" Grace asked. Tom's eyes widened, realizing he had spoken too loud. 
"I- yeah," he sighed, knowing they were going to quiz him on the subject now. 
"Was he awful?" Molly wondered. 
"No, he was great," 
"He was an ass," 
You and Tom had spoken at the same time, you looked up, eyes meeting him in a lingering stare. "He was great," you repeated, not looking away from him. 
"How could you still think that after what i- he said to you?" Tom asked. With your attention fully on him, you could almost forget the others in the room with you.
"He was young, I was younger. Life caught up with us and made the fantasy we were living too real too fast, doesn't mean I have to hate him. I still love him, never stopped…" you reached next to you scratching in between Tessa's ears. "Sometimes you have to push past the hurt to try and understand other people," you whispered, not daring to look up. 
"Is he your soulmate?" Harry asked. You looked besides you, not even aware that he had tuned into the conversation. 
"I don't know," you chuckled. 
You looked across from you to see Tom's sight glued to his hands in his lap, completely unreadable.  
"Have you been with anyone since?" Grace asked, everyone turning to you. 
"Like?" 
"Sexually?"
"Oh," you felt your cheeks heat up at the question. "No actually, he's the only man I have ever been with," you admitted, making Tom's head shoot up to look at you, shock plastered on his face. 
"Three years?" Harry gasped, Dramatically sliding down as though he was wounded. "That's too damn long to not be laid," he told you. 
"I agree," Grace giggled. 
You shook your head and let out a chuckle. You had never been able to bring yourself to move on, fear that it would be betraying your heart, which clearly belonged to someone else, after so many years, it still belonged to him.. 
It was nearly two am when the welcoming conversation died down, Clark and Sam excusing themselves first, followed closely by Harry, and Then you. 
You grabbed your bags, heading up the stairs to the room that had been yours for so many years. The door creaked open, as you pushed through, dropping your bags at the end of the old bed before switching on the lamp. A picture of you and Tom neatly placed in a frame next to it. 
You could still remember the day it was taken, Niki had been following behind all of you as you hiked up the big hill to sled down. You had lost your balance, falling over and pulling Tom down with you, into a soft pile of snow. The smiles on your faces as you had been giggling were so pure, filled with love and adoration. Even Niki could see that, snapping a picture of the moment to be frozen in time forever. 
You walked over to the bed, sitting down lightly as you watched the snow fall from out the window. The view was mesmerizing. The white blanket covering the ground making it impossible for it to be dark. 
You had forgotten how at home it felt here, being where you had grown into a woman, almost every important defining moment happening within these four walls. There was a soft knock on the door. 
"Yeah?" You called out. The door creaked open, and Harrison's head peaked in. 
"Can we talk for a sec?" He asked you. 
"Sure," you nodded to him, before he finished opening the door and walking over to sit beside you.
"I know it really isn't my place to tell you this, but he loves you. He's crazy about you, and that never stopped," he looked over to gauge your reaction. 
"Haz," 
"Y/n, I know that what he did was awful, but you have to know his intentions were pure," you took a deep breath and nodded before sitting back to hear what he had to say. "You knew how busy he got during the civil war, and then with homecoming and infinity war it was even worse, he didn't want to put you through it anymore. With Endgame, and Far from home he had almost no time to do anything else. And he knew it was going to be that way, he knew he wasn't going to be able to be there for you," he explained. 
"He told me-" 
"I know. I know what he said, and I'm not saying you have to forgive him, but just know, he didn't mean it, okay?" He looked at you with his soft blue eyes, trying to fix his best friend's mess. Honestly, what Tom had done hurt you, but you knew he hadn't meant it, there was no way he had meant it. 
"Okay," you nodded. 
"Okay, got to get back to Gracie now," he told you as he jumped up and rushed out. You turned your attention back to the window, hopeful that this trip would get you answers, or at least some closure.
You opened your eyes to the splattering noise at your window. You could see the remnants of an exploded snowball splattered about. You rolled out of bed, pulling the fuzzy blanket that had been on top of you around your body as you made your way to the window. Sam was bundled up, running as Harry charged at him, a freshly made snowball in hand as Tom stood holding Tessa's leash as he watched his younger brothers goofing off. 
He glanced up to the window seeing you looking down at him and lifted his hand in an awkward wave. You giggled and waved back, walking away from the window, and making your way downstairs. The quietness of the house led you to believe everyone else was still asleep. You walked over to the still lit wood stove and tossed in a few more logs to ensure the heat would continue. 
You had never been a great cook, you were actually certifiably bad, but you still decided to go to the kitchen and begin to pull out the ingredients for breakfast. 
You were on your tiptoes about to reach the flour when you heard the front door open and felt the gust of wind. 
"What are you doing?" Sam asked casually as he walked up to the fire sticking his red hands out to get warm.
"Breakfast," you proudly stated. 
"God, no, please y/n, anything but that," Harry groaned as he made his way in. 
"Hey!" You pouted. You couldn't actually be offended, you would have probably ended up giving everyone food poisoning had you gone through with the cooking.
"Don't bully her, she's not that bad of a cook," Tom said as he rounded the corner pulling the beanie from his head to expose his crazy hair. "She makes some mean cookies," Tom reminded them. 
"Oh no," Harry groaned, falling back onto the couch. 
"Baking and cooking are two completely separate things Tom," Sam started. 
"You had to open that can of worms?" Harry asked, looking at Tom. 
"See the science behind-" 
"God! No Sam!" Harry groaned again, making a giggle erupt from your chest. 
"I want to hear Sammy, tell me," you instructed leaning against the counter. Sam shot a cocky look over to Harry before turning and lecturing you for the next thirty minutes on the differences in cooking and baking, and why chefs were not considered bakers and vice versa. By the end you were sitting at the kitchen island as Sam finished the pancakes and bacon. 
"Interesting," you mumbled as he slid a plate of food your way. 
"It truly is," he agreed. You grabbed your fork beginning to eat the food on your plate when you felt a hand on the low of your back. You glanced up with your mouth full to see Tom standing beside you, not even aware of where his hand was placed, or if he was, he wasn't showing it. "Here," Sam said as he slid the plate to him. 
"Thanks Lad," he said as he sat down onto the stool next to you, hand leaving your back as he moved it to grab his fork. He noticed the look on your face of shock. "You alright?" He wondered. 
"Uh- yeah, I'm okay," you nodded, turning your attention back to the food In front of you. 
One single touch and you were completely undone, couldn't even muster the ability to speak. What were you supposed to do for the next week and a half? You weren't sure you could manage… 
"Morning y/n," Clarke said as she walked up behind you. "Morning handsome," she said to Sam.
"Morning beautiful," he said before rounding the counter to giver a quick peck and set a plate In Front of her. "Eat," he instructed. She sat down next to you and started to eat the food. Soon enough everyone had woken up and eaten breakfast. 
"We should go up to the hot springs," Harry said from in front of the fireplace. 
"Awful idea," Harrison laughed. 
"Why?" Gracie asked suddenly. 
"The water is nice and warm, but then when you get out you're still wet and have to hike back down to the cabin, it's miserable," he explained quickly. 
She nodded, "yeah we will pass," 
"Okay," Harry shook his head, "Sam? Clarke?" 
"Yeah we will go," Sam answered. 
"Cool, y/n? Tom?" 
You glanced up from where your nose had been buried In a book having heard your name called with Tom's. "What?" You asked. 
"Hot springs?" 
"Ohh, yeah, I'll go," you sent Harry a smile and glanced over to Tom who had raised brows. 
"Count me in too," he said, not looking away from you. 
"OK, I'll go see about the other two," he announced, jumping to his feet. 
"Don't barge in Baz, you'll see something you don't want to see,"  Harrison laughed, causing everyone else to give a disgusted groan. "What? You all believe they have been "resting" all morning?" He asked. 
"No but you didn't need to say it," Clarke laughed burying her head back into Sam's shoulder. 
Everyone walked ahead of you through the soft snow. The hike up the hill itself wasn't extremely hard, but with the added difficulty of the freshly fallen snow, it seemed to be a much more daunting task. The hot springs were just a little past the sledding hill, and should have only been about a ten minute walk, but you were sure it was easily minute twenty by now. 
Tom could see you struggling, just like old times, he fell back from the rest of the group until you caught up with him. "Here," he said, offering out his arm. 
You grabbed it eagerly, as you attempted to keep your dwindling balance. "thanks," you mumbled as the two of you began to walk. 
"How have you been?" Tom asked quietly. Looking over at your rosy tinted face. 
"Alright, working a lot.. you?" You asked.
"Working," he agreed with a chuckle. 
"The Netflix film was good," you told him.
"You watched that?" He wondered. You could sense the surprise in his voice. 
"Of course Tommy, I've watched everything you have been in," you chuckled. 
You could see from your peripheral vision that his cheeks seemed to get a darker shade of red. "Your favorite?" He asked. 
"Most definitely civil war," you said. "Recognize that butt anywhere," you giggled. 
"Oh shit up," he groaned, rolling his eyes. You couldn't help the nostalgic feel that washed over you
You and Tom trailing behind, lost in your own conversation, while everyone else was way ahead, not minding the two of you. You're not sure how no one ever caught on to the two of you, you were sure, had you been an outsider looking in, it would have been painfully obvious as to what was going on. 
"You remember winter of 17'?" You asked. 
"Hard to forget, we came out here almost every day," Tom chuckled. 
"That year was a good one," you sighed. 
"Winter of 18' was pretty good though," Tom said, glancing over to you. 
"The beginning," you nodded. 
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-" 
"It's ok Tommy, I know you didn't," you told him, a sudden sadness in your eyes as you cut him off. 
"I wish I could take it back," he whispered. 
"Do things differently?" You asked. 
"Yeah, I wouldn't have hid what we had, you deserved to be shown off to the world, not pulled into the closet Every Time I wanted to kiss you," he explained. 
"Hey," you said, "I have some of my best memories in that potter closet," you teased. 
"Yeah," Tom sighed. "I do to," 
You both walked in a comfortable silence before finally catching up with the others at the natural hot springs, the water letting off a beautiful steam, surrounded by white fluffy snow. 
"It's gorgeous out here!" Clarke exclaimed as she shimmied out of her clothes to rush into the water. 
"Not as gorgeous as you, sweetheart," Sam teased. 
"Blegh," Harry faked a gag. "Stop being so gross," he told his twin. 
"Oh, piss off Baz," Sam quipped back. 
She was right though, it was a gorgeous sight, and it brought back many fond memories to be back. 
"Ok, y/n, craziest sexual experience?" Clark asked as you all settled in the hot water. 
"What?" You asked shocked. 
"She does this, you'll get used to it," Harry told you. 
"Oh, well.. what classifies as crazy?" You asked.
"Public, secret, kinky.. whatever you can think." She explained. 
"Ok, well I guess there was this one time, up at a ski lodge. We were stopped on a trail because someone had eaten it pretty badly, and so we just went behind the trees and-" 
"Y/n!" Tom interrupted. 
You glanced over to him to see his face red in shock, and noticed the other three also had a shocked look on their faces.
"What?" You asked quickly. 
"How do you and Tom have almost an identical story?" Sam asked. 
You felt your stomach tighten up. Of course this hadn't been a new question. You should have just lied and kept the story to yourself. "I.. I don't know," you said pathetically. 
"Y/n.." Harry deadpanned. "Who was it with you at the ski lodge?" 
You felt your face flush even redder, as you didn't know what to say or how to get yourself out of this mess. 
"Oh My God!" Sam exclaimed. "I knew I wasn't fucking crazy," he announced turning to Harry. "I caught Tom sneaking out of Y/n's room one night!" 
"Wait a minute-" Tom interrupted. 
"No. No, you two were shagging," Sam accused with a bony finger pointing at Tom. 
"Sam it's not-" 
"You're not denying it?!" Harry gasped looking back and forth between the two of you. 
You sighed loudly as you looked at Tom, who looked just about as embarrassed as you felt. 
"How long?!" Sam asked. "When did it start?" 
Tom sighed before shooting you an apologetic look. "First time was in 2013," Tom said. 
"2013!? Thomas! You lost your virginity to Y/n?!" Harry exclaimed, completely shocked.
"That was after two years of a lot of kissing and hand stuff," Tom admitted. 
"Tommy!" You exclaimed, throwing him a look. 
"Let me get this straight," Harry chuckled dryly. "The two of you started to mess around at 14 and 15?" 
"More or less," you told him. 
"And you just kept it hidden?" Sam asked. 
"I mean… yeah," Tom admitted. 
"So how long did it last?" Clarke asked. 
"Until the winter after Infinity war," Tom said. 
"Thomas, that's like seven years," Sam pointed out. 
"Well if you count from the first time we kissed then-" 
"Tom stop," you instructed. "Yeah me and Tom, did things, and we hid it because we knew it would cause problems," you explained.
"For who?" Sam asked, confused.
"For us," You told him, "Tom was twenty two and I was twenty one and I told him that I would come with him, but that meant Making things real between us, and leaving the little bubble we had created, so he called it off," you explained. 
"Is that what you think?" Tom asked. 
"No, that's what happened," you told him.
"No, you had just been accepted into uni, and I had to leave for filming, and I told you I didn't want to be without you, so you offered to give up on uni. I couldn't let you do that, I needed you to live out your dream, that's why I called it off," Tom admitted.  
"What?" You asked shocked. 
"You thought this whole time I was scared to commit to you?" Tom wondered.
"Umm, yeah," you admitted. 
"I feel like this is a very private conversation," Clarke whispered to Sam. 
"Shh, it's about to get better," he told her quietly. 
"Y/n, I only did what I did because I was so in love with you," Tom whispered, as he moved closer to you. 
"Tom, you told me and I quote 'you are not enough y/n. You're not worth it'" you reminded him. 
"Only because I couldn't see any other way to get you to let me go, it was wrong, and I shouldn't have said that, because I didn't mean it…" he explained. His eyes were warm and genuine as he brought his hand up to your cheek. "The only thing I ever wanted with you was the real deal. I wanted to bring you home to my parents, even though you grew up knowing them. I wanted to have you on my arm at the premieres and at random galas I have to attend, but I knew that uni was your dream, and you worked so hard for it, I couldn't be the reason you missed out on that," he explained. 
"I graduated early," you blurted without thinking. 
"What?" Tom asked, eyebrows furrowing together. 
"I graduated last month. A year early, I got my bachelor's degree in business," you told him.
"Y/n, that is amazing," he exclaimed, pulling you into his arms. 
"Yeah, I achieved my dream," you mumbled against his chest.  
"That's so great, I'm so proud of you," he told you before Pulling back and crashing his lips into yours, for a moment you nearly forgot about the company that was with you, being completely captivated by his lips on yours. 
"I want to say I didn't see that coming," Sam chuckled. 
"I didn't," Harry admitted. 
"Awweee," Clark exclaimed. 
Tom pulled away, whispering a quick sorry before moving back to sit down, but not letting his hand leave where it rested around your waist. 
You spent the next two hours at the hot springs explaining how you snuck around for so many years without anyone finding out. 
You walked up the steps to the back door of the cabin completely frozen from your wet undergarments underneath your clothes. "I call shower first!" You exclaimed running through the door and straight through the kitchen and the living room towards the stairs. 
"Have fun?" You heard Harrison call out. 
"Frozen solid, I'll answer when I've thawed," you called back. 
You slipped your clothes off before you started the water, letting it warm up. You slipped your chilled body into the warm stream, feeling the pins and needles from the sudden temperature change. 
There was a soft knock on the door before it opened. 
"I'll be fast," you called out not knowing who had come in. 
"You're going to use all the hot water," Tom's voice teased. 
You peaked your head out the curtain seeing him leaning against the counter with a smirk on his face. "I don't take that long," you told him. 
"You know, we could just shower together, save water." He told you. 
"What an environmentalist, you are," you teased. 
"Is that a no?" He Wondered. 
"Did I say no?" You asked, feeling your stomach fill with butterflies. 
You heard him chuckle before the sound of a zipper. "Y/n?" He asked. 
"Yeah, Tommy?" You bit down on your bottom lip waiting anxiously.
"You can tell me to leave, I'd understand it if you didn't want me around," he nearly whispered, fear lacing his tone. 
"Tommy," 
"Yeah y/n?" 
"Better get in here before I use all the hot water," you quipped. You didn't have to tell him again, with one swift motion, the curtain opened just enough for him to slip into the rather small shower. His hands found your waist almost instantly, pushing your body against the cold tile, crashing his lips into yours. It was nothing new, you had done this so many times before, but there was just something different about it. Maybe it was that you hadn't been with him in three years, or maybe it was because now you weren't hiding, or maybe, just maybe, it was because life had finally aligned just right, and it was your time. 
You reached your fingers up to the nape of his neck, fingers twiddling with the curls. His fingers dug into your hips as he pushed his bare body against yours. 
Your skin burned under his touch, a fire blazing inside of you. Tom's lips moved from your mouth down to your jaw and then to your neck. 
"Y/n?" Harrison's voice called out, you hadn't even heard the door open. Tom lifted his head from your neck and you clasped your hand over his mouth. 
"Yeah Haz?" You asked. 
"You and Tom talked?" He wondered. 
"Little bit," you admitted as Tom chuckled, shaking his head. 
"Good, good. Was worried he was going to be a puss and never admit his truths to you," he said, making Tom furrow his brows together. "He can be a real div, ya know. Never knows the right thing to say," at this point you rolled your eyes knowing very well that Harrison was more than aware that Tom was in the shower with you, and was just trying to push his buttons. Which seemed to be working. Tom gripped your wrist pulling your hand from his mouth. 
"Hey mate, while I do love hearing about my flaws," tom said, "I'd really like to make up for losing the last three years here, so unless you're trying to hear that-" 
"I'm going," Harrison chuckled, exiting the bathroom in a rather quick fashion. 
"We will never live this down," you pointed out. 
"Honestly y/n, who cares," he whispered, returning his lips to your neck, sucking slightly on your sweet spot. 
Your fingers laced into his curly hair tugging lightly. "Tommy," you whimpered. 
The thing that had always been so easy between the two of you was that Tom had helped you discover yourself. Everything you had ever wanted, Tom had given you,  he was one one of the most understanding and patient men you had ever met. So as you withered away under his lips on your neck whimpering his name, he knew just what you wanted. 
He slipped his hand from where it was placed on your hip, down to your aching core. 
"Right here, darling?" He asked as he pushed his knee between your legs, giving him enough room to slip his hand between your thighs. 
"Please," you begged. His fingers slid seamlessly through your already soaking folds. 
"Always so good for me," he whispered into your ear, making your knees feel weak. 
He trailed his fingers through your folds and right up to your clit, rubbing slight circles on the little bundle of nerves. You dropped your head to his shoulder, letting out a moan. 
"Tommy- s..So good," you told him before he gently pushed a finger in. 
"Still so tight I see," he whispered, slipping another finger in. 
You lifted your head Back up, crashing your lips into his. His tongue swiped across your bottom lip, and you eagerly gave him access. It was a heated mess of teeth clashing as neither of you seemed to be able to get enough of the other. Tom curled his fingers inside you, making you gasp as he found the right spot. You threw your head back, hitting the tile wall a little harder than you intended.
"Right there?" He asked. 
"Mhmm," you panted as you felt the band in your belly getting ready to snap. 
"Want you to let go, pretty girl, can you do that for me?" He asked.
His words pushed you over the edge, hips moving on their own accord as a pornographic moan left your mouth.  
"That's it my pretty girl," Tom cooed as he worked you through the high, eyes never leaving you. 
As soon as your legs quit shaking and the quiet whimpers stopped leaving your lips, Tom pulled his hand from where it had been between your legs, bringing the two fingers he had buried inside you up to his mouth and sucking them clean. 
"Christ Tom," you groaned. 
"Was that good princess?" He asked.
"So good," you nodded, pushing your lips back against his.
KNOCK* KNOCK* 
"Y/n! You're going to use all the hot water!" Sam called through the door. 
"Probably should get out," Tom chuckled. 
"Yeah," you agreed. 
You turned the water off, quickly hopping out and wrapping a towel around your wet body, Tom doing the same thing. 
You picked up your clothes before opening the bathroom door to Sam standing there, waiting. Your cheeks went rosy as you walked out of the bathroom first. 
"Sorry," you mumbled, making your way down the hall to your room. Tom stepped out with his clothes, turning down the opposite side of the hall to his room. 
"In the shower?!" Sam groaned. 
"Sorry mate," Tom chuckled. 
You got to your bedroom, dropping your soiled clothes into the hamper before rummaging around for some comfy warm clothes. You settled on an old hoodie that you had stashed in the wardrobe (you were pretty sure it was once toms) and a nice pair of fuzzy pajama pants. 
You collapsed onto your bed, hair still wet and mind going a million miles an hour. Your door creaked open, and you didn't even have to look up to know who it was. 
"You alright?" Tom asked. 
"More than alright," you answered, not even looking over to him. 
"So you graduated?" He asked. 
You propped yourself up on your elbows. "I did," you nodded. 
He nodded, a smile spreading over his face. "What are you doing now?" He wondered. 
"Haven't really decided yet," you admitted. It was the truth, you had barely moved your stuff out of your dorm and back to your parents house, you weren't sure exactly what you were planning to do. 
"Can I throw you an idea?" Tom asked. 
"Please," you giggled. 
He walked over, plopping down on your bed, pulling you into his lap so you were straddling him. 
"Come with me," he whispered. 
"Where?" You giggled, wrapping your fingers in his hair. 
"Anywhere, everywhere, just stay with me?" He begged. 
You leaned forward resting your forehead to his and sighing."Tommy, I never wanted to leave you in the first place," you admitted. 
"I love you," he told you, looking into your eyes, with his honey golden brown ones. 
"I love you," you whispered. Tom leaned more into you, lips searching for yours. His hands grasped your ass as he pressed your lips together eagerly. It was like he said, you had to make up for the lost three years. 
You let yourself get lost in Tom's lips, feeling like a lovesick teenager all over again. You rocked your hips against his as you kissed, feeling him growing beneath you. 
You continued your movements, pressing your core harder against his growing bulge, making him groan into the kiss. You knew what you were doing, bringing Tom to the point of no return.   
“Y/n” Tom groaned into your lips. 
“What is it, pretty boy?” you asked as you let your lips travel down to his neck, nibbling and sucking on all the exposed skin. 
“I want you,” he whispered, hands running up and down your covered back.  
“You have me,” you chuckled against his skin, “You have always had every bit of me,” Tom clutched your ass as he flipped you on your back, returning his lips to yours in a demanding, intention filled kiss. His hands traveled to the hem of the hoodie, before he pulled it up lightly. You sat up pulling it over your head and tossing it to the end of the bed. Tom doing the same with the shirt he had on, before finding his way back to your body. 
“God i have fucking missed you,” Tom groaned as he trailed his lips from yours to the valley of your breasts, pausing at each one to pay your nipples attention. You groaned as his lips enveloped the hardening bud, while he took the other in his fingers. He knew what you liked and how you liked it, and he knew how to get you right to the point he wanted… you begging for him. He moved his lips farther down your abdomen, sucking gently before making it to the bend of your pajama pants. He hooked his fingers into the waistband, shooting you a look, waiting for confirmation. You quickly nodded. He pulled the pants down your legs painfully slowly as he drank in the sight of your body. 
“So perfect,” he complimented as he took the pants from around your ankles, dropping them to the floor. He had your leg in his grasp and took the opportunity to place a kiss on your ankle, trailing them gently and slowly up your legs, making the ace you felt in your core intensify dramatically. “Oh Tommy,” you groaned as he placed a kiss on your bundle of nerves. 
“What is it, love?” He asked innocently from between your legs. 
“Tommy please,” you let out, fingers intertwined in his messy curls. “Please fuck me,” you begged. 
You saw the smirk flash across his face as he pushed himself up from in between your legs crashing his lips into yours. You reached down as you eagerly attempted to rid him of his sweats, failing miserably in the heat of the moment. “I've got it,” he chuckled as he peeled the fabric from his body, freeing his aching cock, from the hold of the fabric. Just the sight of him there, naked, between your legs, hand wrapped around his hard member was mouthwatering. 
“Ready,'' he asked as he ran his tip through your soaking folds. You nodded eagerly as he slowly sank into you, stretching you beautifully. 
Three years, but it was still like muscle memory. Your hands grasped at Tom's neck as your legs snaked around his waist. “Want me to be gentle?” He asked as he bottomed out. 
“We have the rest of our lives to be gentle,” you told him. “But right now,” you lifted your lips to his ear as you nibbled on his lobe gently. “I want you to wreck me,” You whispered, making a guttural groan leave his lips before he began thrusting into you. 
Your head fell back onto the bed as tom pounded into you, back arching from the mattress as each stroke of his cock brushed eagerly on your g spot. You could feel yourself already clenching around him. Barely any time and you were already about to give in. 
Tom's movements slowed suddenly as he brought his lips to yours and kissed you. “I'm sorry, y/n, you'll never know how sorry I am,” he whispered. 
You couldn't stop the tears from rushing to your eyes at the sentiment behind his words, knowing how sincere he actually was. 
“I forgive you Tommy,” you whispered, kissing him deeper. His movements quickened once again, as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. “Tommy,” you whimpered as you felt your walls begin to clench around him. 
“Me too baby,” he groaned as you felt him twitch inside of you. You brought your lips back to him as you both fell over the edge, a beautiful symphony of pure ecstasy taking over both of your bodies. 
Tom fell beside you, arm draped over you as you both laid there, chests heaving and legs shaking. “Can't believe I lasted three years without you,” Tom mumbled. 
“I don't know how you did it,” you teased. 
“Y/N,” He said seriously. You looked at him with furrowed brows. “I was serious, come with me, be with me?” you felt the breath hitch in your throat as you watched the nervousness take over him, awaiting your answer. 
“Yes,” you whispered as your head nodded. Tom's face lit up as he pulled your body against his, lips clashing again, but in a different way, a way that felt like it would be forever. An unspoken promise being sealed between two people desperately in love after all this time. 
taglist:
@violetlilysunshine  
@petesrparker
@harryhollandsgirlfriend
@mcushvft
@elishi03
@nelebynele
@sunwardsss
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tomhollandfics · a day ago
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Fɪᴄ Lɪsᴛs
lists of my favourite tom holland fanfics arranged according to topic (this post is still being updated - I am hoping to post a new fic list every day or two)
Famous!Reader
Dad!Tom
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449 · 2 days ago
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ships in the night | series
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summary ↦ europe always sounds nice when you’re going through an existential crisis. but when fate has you running into the same handsome (and slightly annoying) stranger over and over again, you get more out of your trip than you ever bargained for.
pairing ↦ golfer?tom?? x female reader
a/n ↦ ok what the hell i had an idea so i started writing but things sort of spiraled out of control and... here we are lol my first long form fic so please don’t yell at me!! this is not based on ‘before sunrise’ but it lowkey kinda turned out to be? aaand technically it is golfer!tom but that detail isn’t really important to the story (💔), more so the fact that he isn’t famous! if you hate cliches then this is definitely not the story for you because it is literally like i took every single overplayed literary and movie trope/line out there and threw it into this series. but anyway! i hope you enjoy <3
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one.
two.
three.
four.
five.
( chapters will be linked as they are updated !! )
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vintagemulti · 2 days ago
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Stage Three: Bargaining -> Peter Parker
parings: peter parker x reader, thor x platonic!reader
part one , part two , part three
desc: in which peter’s sudden death leaves you with more than just a hole in your heart; his incomplete bucket list
warnings: death, mentions of death, grieving, heights? idk, mentions of suicide, suicidal thoughts and ideation, crying
a/n: yeah this one kinda broke me im not gonna lie. if you or someone you know feels suicidal please reach out to someone you trust and please get some help. you are so so loved <3 also, sorry this is kind of short. i like the style?? it’s building up for the big finale i swear
watch the sunset from the brooklyn bridge
You read it again, and again, and again, trying to trick your mind into just accepting what the rules were and following them.
No, you said to yourself. This was one to do alone.
Because that’s all you were.
Alone.
Alone without your parents, alone without Peter, completely and utterly alone.
How could things ever get better? The one person who you truly valued was ripped away, before you even got the chance to spend forever with him.
The thought caused another tear to fall as you walked from your apartment to the bridge. You didn’t care how long it took, or how much your feet hurt and bled. This, for you, was a one way trip.
You had never meant to get suicidal. Actually, you weren’t even sure that was the right word for it. Suicidal meant you wanted to kill yourself and die, right?
You didn’t want to do that. You just didn’t want to live, and suicidal was the closest thing to describe the feeling.
The sun was slowly falling, and as you got closer and closer to the bridge, your feeling of hopelessness, that nothing you ever do will ever be good, got stronger and stronger.
Because how could anything ever be good again? Peter was gone. Gone forever.
You had felt his skin, how cold he was. How cold - compared to the usual heat of his flushed cheeks and bright brown eyes - everything about that room had been.
Your regret for going into that room was so strong. It felt like every day, you woke up and you were still in that cold room, watching Peter die over, and over, and over.
Nothing would ever be good again.
Not since the colour had drained from his eyes, not since the colour had drained for the entire world.
You found it funny - that everyone walking past you had lives, had happiness. How? How could the world still be spinning and life still happening all around when Peter - sweet, kind, handsome Peter, had been ripped away.
So no, you were not suicidal.
It just had to stop.
——————————————————————————
Visiting the Brooklyn Bridge was something on your bucket list, too. It was a date idea, actually. That Peter could take you two up there and you could have a night spent people watching and just loving life.
Loving life. You longed to love life again. But you couldn’t. Nothing would make life worth living.
Balancing yourself wasn’t difficult, not in your state of mind. Although you had never even been on the bridge before, you knew exactly where to put your feet and exactly how to stop people from noticing what you were doing.
It’s incredible, you thought, how absorbed everyone is in their own life that they don’t even notice what I’m about to do. Maybe that’s what’s wrong with humanity. Maybe we all need to look up, and stop that girl from jumping.
For a moment, you stopped, completely still, waiting for someone to stop you.
But no one came.
No one called out to stop you, no one even smiled at you on your walk that day. No one would come.
So you carried on, letting your body take you right to the edge. Perhaps you were so well balanced because you didn’t care if you fell or not.
The sound of cars below got louder and louder, until you could almost here the radio station from every passing car. Crazy what you can do when you think you’re about to die.
Death. You sighed, not just with your breath but with your entire body - a human sigh, allowing yourself to completely let go and make the drop.
Death.
Death never came.
Looking down, you saw the East River swirling underneath you and suddenly - for the first time in days - your eyes focused and your thoughts slowed.
You couldn’t.
You couldn’t do it.
Jumping seemed so unbelievably terrifying in that moment, such an opposite from what you wanted, that you could scream. You could scream and cry that you wanted to live.
Because you did.
You couldn’t die without finishing the bucket list - hell, finishing your own bucket list.
The fear of death overcame you so quickly that you didn’t even realise what was happening. Your hands shook, eyes pooled and throat went dry.
Nothing about where you were was ok. Nothing about this was what-
“Peter wouldn’t want this,” a voice came from behind you, speaking your thoughts.
Normally, you would turn to see who it was, but considering your balance was faltering, you stiffened. You recognised the voice anyway.
“Y/N, please.” MJ yelled, over the traffic and over the fear in her own voice.
“I know.” You called back, eyes filling up with tears.
“Please don’t do this.”
You shook you head. “I- I can’t. I can’t jump.”
You think she let out a sigh of relief, but you couldn’t quite hear her. “Can you get back across?”
“I think so.”
As it turns out, getting there was a lot easier than getting back. It actually blurred together, everything from walking to the bridge up until sitting on MJ’s couch with a hot coffee in your hands.
Death.
That’s what death does, you supposed.
Maybe one day you’ll go back to the Brooklyn Bridge, and watch the sunset. Maybe you’ll remember it that time.
And maybe, just maybe, next time you go to the Brooklyn Bridge and try to jump, you’ll hear Peter - screaming out from the unknown, pleading for you not to jump.
He must have pleaded hard, because MJ - who only saw you because she was visiting a friend in Brooklyn - seemed to hear him screaming. Screaming in the form of a gut feeling and ringing in her ears. She seemed to see him, pulling you back from the edge and telling you not to jump by making it a little colder and the wind blowing a little harder.
That was your mistake, really. Thinking that no one came.
Peter came. He came and he held you upright, keeping your balance so you wouldn’t leave before your time. He came and he called for help, knowing someone would look over and see what was happening. He came for you.
He was there. He would always be there.
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Tom Holland Commission
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(Not my gif!)
Note: Only one more part after this! i must say i'm sorry for being late, life has gotten so crazy annnnd I actually tore a ligament in my ankle and cracked it! so i've been just in pain for a few days. ANWWAYS here's part 4 and part 5 will be out very soon!
word count: 10k
warnings: Mentions of sex, sexual thoughts, swearing, drinking, swearing, some flash backs of harassment
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
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If Love Had A Say - Part 4
Reader
It’s not easy. All of this isn’t easy
All the easy things in life are boring
You’re anything but boring
My tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth and my eyelids are so heavy that I struggle to open them. Maybe I should sleep just a littttleee bit longer. I stretch in the bed and feel the softness of the sheets, pulling them closer to my chest. These sheets are so soft, and they smell so good. I take a deep inhale and snuggle myself into the sheets. Wait a minute. My eyes flutter open and that causes my headache to start. I sit up in my plush soft bed… my soft bed… not my bed. Not my bed. This is not my bed. When I look around, I can’t seem to recognise the bedroom I’m in.
“Fuck”
I panic and quickly touch my body. Still in the clothes from last night. Last night… I try to think of how I got here but there’s nothing. My memory has faded and all that remains is a pounding headache and a dry mouth. I squint as I try to focus on where I am. Where the fuck am I? When I turn to get off from the bed, I feel my body beg me to go back. Though I have no idea where this is, I can admit that bed is heaven. There’s an on suite in here so I rush inside. There’s nothing really in here but a small window that’s covered by tree’s… there are no personal belongings or perfumes or anything to give me a hint as to who’s house this is. There’s only a large dark blue t-shirt. A male t-shirt. Suddenly a memory flashes in my mind
I want you to come home with me
I—I don’t think that’s a good idea
Don’t be like that y/n. I’ll be good I swear
The memory of feeling Leo’s fingertips pressing into my hips and the almost too strong smell of his cologne makes me want to gag. My heart races as I think of the worst. Was I that drunk that I went home with him? What if something happened… but I still have my clothes on. I rub my eyes and the look at the shirt hanging up. I lean in to smell it and it… it smells different, almost fresh as if it’s just been washed. I run my fingertips down the extremely soft material and sigh.
“Where the hell did you end up”
I shake my head and look to the mirror and take in the sight. My make up is smudged making me look as if I have racoon eyes, and my lipstick has stained my lips even though it’s no longer there. I can’t even begin to describe my hair. I’m in need of a shower and the one in this bathroom looks so promising but I just can’t get myself to get in. You’re being ridiculous. I shake my head and turn to the bathroom door. I peek out into the bedroom. Still, no one has come in.
“Just 5 minutes”
I say under my breath as I shut the door and let the lock click. I might as well freshen up while I have some privacy and a luxurious shower. I begin unzipping my dress and taking it off and once I’m naked I quickly get into the shower and turn on the water. The moment the hot water hits my skin I almost moan with pleasure. Though not something I thought I would appreciate but this water pressure is amazing. I scan the shower for something to wash my hair with and find simple scented shampoo and conditioner. I spend what feels like an hour in the shower, rinsing and scrubbing and lathering the soap until my skin feels soft and clean. I step out, steam has filled the bathroom and I can’t see my reflection in the mirror which I don’t really mind. I wrap my body in the lush white towel and grab another to wrap my hair in. Then my eyes look at the shirt… it’s clean, or at least it smells fresh out of the wash, and I don’t fancy wearing my black dress from last night. If this is Leo’s house, then I just want something that doesn’t get his attention back to me. Once I dry myself off, I slip on the shirt, it reaches my knees, even goes a little past them and it feels good on my skin. I can’t get that smell out from memory, as if I recognise who it belongs to. I just wish I knew who
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Tom
Do you understand how much I need you?
But you don’t
I do! I need you for every second of my life because without you it has no meaning…
“You’re a fucking idiot”
“I know but—”
“No Tom, you realise what you’ve done right? I get going there to see if she’s alright, but you fucking decked the guy!”
Harrison raises his voice and looks at me with flared nostrils. I know what I did last night. I don’t regret punching that asshole and even now thinking about how he grabbed y/n and what he called her makes me wish I threw more than one punch. Harrison had only come back about 20 minutes ago, magazine in hand and basically threw it at me. I knew it would happen, but I didn’t care, I don’t care because I would do it again… but I get it. I messed up big time and social media was eating up my mistake.
“You would’ve done the same alright, the guy was an absolute pig”
“I’m not saying he didn’t deserve it, I’m just saying you should’ve thought first before reacting”
Harrison sighs and then pinches the bridge of his nose. Honestly, I’m glad he’s pissed because someone should be. Well actually almost everyone is pissed at me for the scene I caused. Harry called me up earlier in the morning, first to tell me that I was crazy and second to say that he was actually impressed. The worst call came from my PR managers and pretty much everyone in the acting business that felt the need to tell me just how much of a scene I really caused.
“I can’t believe you knocked him out… in a club full of damn phones”
“Do you need to keep reminding me of what I did?”
“Tom, the photos of you punching Leo are blowing up everywhere”
I groan, rubbing the back of my neck. This was going to be hell to clear up. People love a good drama story, and I just handed them their next few issues about me. The headlines they came up with were just horrible
Drunk Tom Holland in bar fight
Tom Holland punches stranger who tried to grope his new lover
Was Tom Holland Jealous that his girl was clubbing without him?
Tom Holland leaves club with new girlfriend
They all continued to make up stupid reasons as to who did what and why. And here I was now being lectured.
“Look I don’t want to be an asshole about it and make things worse for you, but you need to start thinking straight a little bit. Ever since you met y/n you’ve been a bit careless with your privacy”
I groan at his words only because I know that he’s right. He’s right and I hate it because I have been careless, and I haven’t worried about being spotted with y/n even though I should be thinking about how this affects her life too. Without really thinking I’m rubbing my temples.
“I know… fuck I know”
I sigh
“I should’ve just ignored him and walked out”
“To be fair, the asshole deserved it. He was weird when I met him again that time I had to pick y/n up—speaking of, have you heard anything from her about all this”
My eyes widen. Of course I forgot to tell Harrison that instead of taking y/n to her home… I took her here… and of course managed to get into some weird late night groping that left my thoughts broken all night. Fuck. Even thinking about it. I should’ve left her room the moment I showed it to her, but I couldn’t help myself and she was so… I feel the blood rush to my ears and down to my groin.
“What aren’t you telling me…”
Asks Harrison, his tone curious but I can already tell that he won’t like the answer that I will have to give him. Unless I just don’t tell him. No that’s a shitty thing to do. I sigh heavily and decide I might as well get it all out.
“y/n was super drunk, and after everything she was still pretty buzzed—I wanted to take her home”
“What do you mean by wanted to take her home, you took her home last night right?”
I’m scratching the back of my head in silence as Harrison looks at me like he can’t really believe that I’m admitting to bringing y/n here
“right?”
He presses and this time I just get it out
“I didn’t have any other option—”
“I can’t fucking believe you”
He seethes. The look in his eyes tells me that he thinks I slept with her, and though every damn bit of me wanted to, I knew it would be wrong.
“Please tell me you didn’t—”
“No. No nothing happened”
“You had one job! You just had to bring her home”
“She was too drunk to remember her own address I couldn’t just—”
I don’t finish my sentence when I hear soft footsteps enter the living room. I watch as Harrison looks past me, when his eyes return to me, I realise there’s only one other person in the house who could be awake.
“Y/n”
Harrison says, attitude gone from his voice. I twirl around to see y/n standing in the living room doorway. My eyes catch on to what she’s wearing. An oversized t-shirt that reaches the mid of her thighs, it takes me a second to realise that it’s actually one of my shirts. I must’ve left some clothes in the spare room. She’s looking a lot fresher than last night, her hair is slightly damp leaving behind water stains in the shirt, her face is clean from all the make-up from last night. She looks beautiful.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Reader
Did you plan for this?
Some things are best to be kept spontaneous
Is that what it is? Or just you being unprepared
Maybe both
Tom. It was Tom. This is Tom’s house. I slept in Toms spare room last night took a shower in Toms spare room bathroom… This is Tom’s t-shirt.
“Tom”
His name rolls off my tongue like a whisper and I’m not even sure he hears me but we’re just staring at each other. Slowly I piece together what happened last night. Tom brought me back. Tom came to the club last night and he punched Leo after he touched me… Tom was there for me. I swallow hard.
“Right—well—nice seeing you y/n, hope you had a nice night”
Harrison flashes me a smile, but his expression changes when he looks to Tom. His eyebrows furrow and his lip twitches slightly.
“We’ll speak later”
Then he turns and leaves for the front door. Toms looking my way again and I suddenly feel so stupid. I’m wearing his damn shirt and nothing else because well, my clothes were not an option but this… oh god.
“Good morning”
Tom says, his words seem to carry the slight smile that shapes his lips. It makes my heart flutter and my cheeks blush.
“Morning”
I manage to squeak out. My hands go to my sides, and I begin pulling at the hem of this shirt that suddenly feels way too short. Though I doubt it’s as short as the dress I wore last night. I need to burn that dress.
“Did you manage to sleep alright?”
I’m almost startled by his question, even more so by his tone since his voice was slightly dry. I start picking at my hands as I reply
“Y-Yeah… I honestly can’t even remember falling asleep”
“Oh. So you don’t remember—actually you know what, how about I make some tea”
I follow behind him into the kitchen. He was going to finish saying something and now I’m struggling to remember if anything else happened. I remember Tom talking to me at the club. I somewhat remember the drive here but that’s about it. And with how Tom cut himself off, it makes me think that something else happened.
“Tom”
“Do you have a preference in tea?”
He starts filling the kettle with water just pushing past a certain conversation.
“What were you going to say?”
“Nothing”
He turns and passes by me, his hand touching my hip to move me out of the way. That touch. It sparks a memory. The feel of fingertips, the roughness of them. I keep staring at him, my eyes tracing his jaw down his arms and to his hands. My skin feels hot, and I shiver as I remember what happened in the bedroom last night.
Y/n, you’re drunk
Touch me Tom… please
Oh my god… What was wrong with me! My stomach tightens at the thought of what my memory flashed In front of my eyes. I never drink. I mean I do, but not that much and last night. Oh god what the fuck have I done. I’m not like this. I don’t just… I’ve never had one night stands. That’s not my thing. Hell, none of this was my thing but ever since I met Tom it seems like I can’t help myself. Stupid fucking stupid girl. No wonder he didn’t want to talk about it, I was probably awful.
“No No—something did happen and—oh my god we—I—oh im such a fucking mess”
“No y/n—no listen”
“I can’t believe I pushed for it!”
Toms now standing In front of me as I’m having, what feels like, a full-on melt down. I hear his phone begin to ring. Almost instantly he reaches for it and looks at the caller, but what I didn’t expect is for him to let it ring and put his hands on my shoulders. His damn touch makes me want to run away.
“Look, nothing happened, okay? Everything that did was my fault”
His warm brown eyes stare deeply into mine and as his words echo in my head, I pick at what he said. Everything that did. But nothing happened. But something did happen. And I can almost see that Tom is definitely still thinking about it. His phone is still ringing but I barely notice it as I can’t take my eyes away from him, but Tom seems to be the one to break our graze as he looks at the still ringing phone
“Fuck”
He says under his breath and my body buzzes as I faintly remember how that word slipped his lips last.
“I don’t want to be an asshole, but I need to answer this”
“Sure, yeah I’ll—I’ll make us tea instead”
Tom’s lips twitch upward into a smile, and he leaves the kitchen. My cheeks feel like someone has poured hot water on them. Not just my cheeks, my whole body. I feel hot. I feel confused and shocked and worried about what last night meant. What did all of this mean but it’s not till I remember that Tom literally physically assaulted Leo… and Leo tried to get me to go home with him… which meant at some point I would have to go and see him at work. The mere thought of that made my stomach churn. I wish none of this had happened, I wish I had just stayed home and never gone for Cara’s crazy idea for of a night out. Cara.I wonder what happened to her last night. I need to find my phone, but I have no idea where my bag is, or even my shoes. Uhg.
After a good 10 minutes, once I had set everything up for tea, Tom came back with a different look on his face. His right hand was rubbing the back of his neck as he sat down by the kitchen table and took his mug.
“Everything okay?”
I ask, taking small sips from my earl grey. This felt too… casual. As if I had always joined Tom in the mornings and I know I should avoid the feeling of familiarity, but I can’t. It felt right, just for this moment I will at least make light of this situation even though the look on Tom’s face may bring the buzz all the way down. He huffs a breath and then sighs.
“That was my agent, he got word from one of the production directors that the location date for shooting Spider-man has been moved up”
“Okay”
I’m not too sure what all that means, considering that I’m not an actress let alone know anything to do with making movies. Tom releases another sigh
“I leave for Atlanta on Tuesday”
My chest feels heavy. It shouldn’t matter to me. It doesn’t matter to me. At least that’s what I tell myself.
“Oh… for how long?”
I ask him without really thinking of what his answer could be. I don’t need to know how long he’ll be gone for because it didn’t matter, what happened last night was a mistake…
“Probably 4 months”
I don’t have answer for him, so I just continue to sip on my tea as the air in the room begins to thicken. My mind races. Though I could go my whole life without seeing Tom again, it feels wrong to wish for that.
“I want you to come with me”
My eyes travel up to meet his once again and I almost choke on my tea a little. He didn’t just say what I think he did right?
“Come with me to Atlanta”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Tom
Do you remember life before all this?
Before all what?
The cameras, the actions, the stories
Sometimes I think about it
Do you miss it
Yeah...
The question left my mouth before I knew, I said it twice and now y/n is just looking at me with wide eyes. My nerves make my face go hot. I can’t believe I just asked y/n to come with me. I don’t know what made me want to ask her but hoenstly, London life is a little fucked up at the moment and I feel like taking y/n out of the city and maybe to a new city it would help us sort things out. Also, I know I wouldn’t be able to focus knowing she was here in London while I would be in Atlanta. It would be torture, just like how her silence in this moment is torture
“Please?”
I ask, I can’t bare the silence I just want her to answer so I can see what my brains comes with next. When I see her lips twitch as she thinks of her own words, and when she speaks my heart catches in my throat
“W-What?”
I almost speak before thinking again but catch my words before they spill out again. Swallowing the lump in my throat I try again
“I—I want you to come with me to Atlanta”
“You—want me to—what?”
She stands up from her seat and starts to pace around the kitchen, I keep my steps behind her. My eyes can’t help but trace up the nakedness of her thighs. Not the right time.
“There’s a lot going on here, in London, I don’t know I just want you to come with me… I don’t think I can leave you behind”
My last words are what stops her in her tracks, I take a few of my own steps back to give her some space. When y/n turns around I can’t exactly tell what she’s thinking.
“Tom I—I can’t just hop on a jet and go with you to a different country”
“And why not?”
I shouldn’t be pushing her, but really there was nothing to hold her here, I think anyways… She wouldn’t need to worry about anything, I would be able to take her away from the mess I made last night and show that maybe there can be something between us. If that’s what she wants, hell if that’s even what I want. It is.
“Um well, unlike you, I actually have a 9-5 job that I can’t just leave|”
Ouch. Though her words did feel like a smack in the face, I did understand where she was coming from, but I could organise something for her work, I met with her boss almost a month ago and he seemed to be a nice enough man to talk to.
“Let me handle that, you wouldn’t need to organise anything I can take care of it for you”
“Tom—”
“Just say yes and I’ll do the rest”
I can’t let her go. After last night y/n is all I can think about, even looking at her now wearing one of my shirts fills my heads with ideas. Focus. Y/n’s just staring at me, her eyes moving rapidly as she’s taking in my facial features. I meet her eyes then gaze to her lips, oh how badly I want to taste her again.
“This is crazy. You’re crazy”
She turns away from me and walks out of the kitchen mumbling things under her breath. I quickly follow her heels and without really thinking I touch her arm with light grip which makes y/n turn around to face me again. I just about hear the light gasp that escapes her lips, and it makes my heart jump. Touching the bare skin of her arm sends a pulse of electricity through my hand.
“Will you say yes?”
“I have a job”
“I’m not hearing a no”
Y/n huffs her breath and furrows her brows. I can’t help but think she looks gorgeous all flustered, the way her eyes are digging into me… I can feel my blood pump around my body and my chest going tight. My mind races and the memory of last night lingers in my head, the touch of her skin and I can’t help but let my hands travel up her arm then back down again. I realise what I’m doing and retract my hand to my side then cough to clear the air. My eyes drop to her lips again and I see how the bottom one is between her teeth, where it’s getting tugged. Keep it together.
“If you can convince my job… then I’ll consider it”
“Leave that to me”
Y/n takes a deep breath and exhales then rubs her eyes. I try hard to conceal my excitement. I know what I needed to do today, I had to organise a way for y/n to come with me… that included a visa to get into America, I’d have to talk to Randall and come up with something so he could excuse y/n to come with me, somehow convincing my manager that things are good, and the paparazzi would go crazy especially after last night. Fuck it. I don’t care as long as y/n is with me for those 4 months.
“I need to find my things… do you—do you know where my bag is? And my shoes… I can’t seem to find them anywhere”
“Oh. Yeah, I’ll get them”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Reader
Please don’t do this
What else can I—
Stay. Please for my own sanity don’t walk through that door…
I’ve been staring at my phone for 20 minutes. I knew last night was fucked up but now… My eyes continue to scan the titles.
Tom Holland in bar fight over new lover!
London bar claims Tom Holland left with new mystery girl
Close up of Tom Hollands new girl! Who is she? And did she start the fight?
So many lies. So many stupid stories where these people don’t know what they’re talking about. The photos are even worse. Some even show about 6 shots that lead to Tom’s fist connecting with Leo’s face… then there are close ups of me. My face with wide eyes, or my body close to Tom, his hand on my lower back as we walk to his car. In his car. God these people don’t have a life. If you need to capture private moments for a living, then you are literally scum… Relax.I shouldn’t get mad at people who are just doing their jobs. Horrible jobs. But still, I should’ve been more careful or—or—I don’t know what I should’ve done. I just wish my life wasn’t being captured every damn second. My eyes see a message pop up from my notifications and it starts a new chain of thoughts as I read who it’s from.
(11:15am) Leo: ‘Please call me when you get the chance’
(11:15am) Leo: ‘I know i’ve said it already but I’m so sorry’
I click on his name to find over 50 unread messages from Leo, along with 10 missed calls which all have voice mails. My lip is now between my teeth and I’m gnawing at the flesh to distract myself.
(3:56am) Leo: ‘I’m so sorry’
(3:56am) Leo: ‘I was just drinking too much, and I flipped out’
(3:57am) Leo: Missed Call
(3:57am) Leo: ‘please tell me you’re okay. Call me back, I just wanna talk’
(4:00am) Leo: ‘I fucked up I know I did but Tom was being such a dick’
(4:01am) Leo: ‘Will you just message me when you’re home’
(4:05am) Leo: Missed Call
(4:06am) Leo: Missed Call
(4:25am) Leo: ‘Please. Please don’t take what I said seriously I don’t know where my mind was’
(5:00am) Leo: Missed Call
It goes on till 10am this morning and till now, just countless messages of Leo trying to justify himself with pathetic words. I can’t help myself but listen to a few of his voice mails, the first must’ve been at the club as I can still hear music in the background, but they just continue throughout the night.
“Y/n… look I know you’re not reading my messages but… fuck I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened I—”
I close that one and click on another one.
“Please call me back when you get this, you probably don’t want to talk to me right I get it but just—”
Click. They were all the same, all so apologetic and I know I shouldn’t be feeling bad for him, he was an asshole. But there’s a small part of me that think’s he just got caught up in something that was a lot bigger than him… though that shouldn’t excuse his actions. I groan and let my body lie back on to the soft mattress. I barely sink in, and it frustrates me more. I wish I could erase everything. I wish I never took this job with stupid co-workers, wish I never got to meet Tom… My phone starts ringing. God Leo just won’t give up. When I look at the caller ID I sit up immediately and answer
“Cara!”
“Y/n! oh thank god. I’ve been calling you all morning, where the fuck did you go?”
I sigh. How did I forget that she was there…? I wonder if she saw what Leo was doing, I didn’t see her towards the end of the night. I mean she definitely saw what happened since it’s all over the damn internet.
“It’s a long story—have you heard anything from Leo?”
“Don’t even say his name, I gave him a piece of my mind and hands when I found him in the club. I’m so sorry that I wasn’t there for you lovely… god if I was there when he was trying to get handsy I would’ve knocked him out myself”
We both share a laugh at the image. Luckily for me, someone was there and that someone was nice enough to drive me to his house, let me sleep in his spare room and let me rest for hours undisturbed… nice enough to back away from me when I was drunk and not thinking right…
“So… you and Tom huh?”
“That’s a whole different topic. I don’t really want to talk about any of that right now I just… honestly I don’t even know what to talk about”
“How about the fact that we racked up a 400£ tab at the bar and I managed to get Leo to pay for it all”
I snort a laugh and gasp
“Wait really?”
“You bet. I even made sure to leave a tip. That’s what he gets for dropping his damn wallet”
“In this case, thank you Leo”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
I tried my best to fill Cara in on what happened after, of course leaving out certain details, but she seemed to understand everything that happened. I found out that after I had left with Tom, she had basically hunted Leo down to sort him out and even dropped him off home only to tell him how pathetic he was. Our call didn’t last too long and about 10 minutes later I still got messages from Leo. So, I just turned off my phone. I was in no mood to see his apologies or be tempted to scroll through more websites that created stories of last night. I just wanted to go home… I wanted to take a bath and soak away the stress and feeling. I just wish I could collect my thoughts.
“Y/n?”
There’s a subtle knock on the door. I realised I’ve been locked in this room for… actually I have no idea how long I’ve been in here for. Mustering up any will power that I have left, I get up from the bed and unlock the door which makes a click.
“Okay I know you unlocked it but just checking, I can come in, right?”
That makes me giggle. I don’t bother to hide it genuinely amused me.
“Yes, Tom. You can come in”
It’s only after I say yes that Tom comes in and a sweet smell comes in through the door. Sweet, and even smoky, oh its heavenly and my stomach begins to rumble.
“I uh—I got us some breakfast from one of the bistros near my house. I’m not sure if you’re hungry but you didn’t eat last night… so I was hoping you’d join me?”
Without thinking I’m already on my feet. Whatever he got it smells amazing and I’m trying hard not to drool. I show a smile when I walk past Tom who seems happy that I agreed. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone so considerate as Tom was. It sparks a strange feeling in my stomach that I can’t push away until I reach the kitchen. There are plates with all different sorts of breakfast goodies. Pastries, pancakes, eggs all cooked differently, bacon, bread rolls, I spot cups filled with orange juice, a pot of tea still steaming.
“Wow…”
“Hungry?”
I cock my head to the side and find Harrison walking with a plate pilled with fruit to the table. Though my mind is still a mess, I can’t help but rush to the table and immediately start sipping away at a glass of orange juice. Oh, this is what I needed. I didn’t realise how hungry I was. I loved breakfast and lunch and dinner too, but it just never stuck to my body. Suddenly the thought of my thinner appearance made me too aware of what I was grabbing for breakfast. What if Tom thinks my body looks weird? Wait it shouldn’t matter what he thinks because I wouldn’t be seeing him again after this… I wouldn’t be seeing him again after today… he’d be in Atlanta for 4 months and I’ll be… here.
“Grapes?”
I blink a few times. Stuck in my thoughts again. I hear a chuckle come from Harrison who’s dangling a bunch of grapes over my plate. Instead of taking a few, Harrison’s just gives them all to me and starts grabbing some bread rolls. I hear Tom’s footsteps and my body buzzes when I hear the feet of the chair next to me scrape the floor. I can already smell his cologne. It’s fresh but sweet too, slightly like spiced coffee. His elbow brushes against me and I still. Suddenly I’m brought back to a hazy memory from last night.
Touch me Tom… please
My cheeks still heat from the thought of what I said. I never, ever did things like that. I mean, when’s the last time I had a drunk hook up? Never. That’s the answer to that. All my sexual… experiences have been me sober and not drunk but for some damn reason that all went out the window when Tom showed me the bedroom. I have no idea what came over me, I had no control of what I was saying it was as if all my filters had been dissolved in the alcohol I had ingested. Toms already told me that nothing happened. That nothing happened after he touched me and that he got up and left me to sleep. I think to myself, trying to push past the neck heating memory of Toms hands on my body and find the memory of him leaving.
I—You—I’m going to go order you some food… you just—you rest up
I remember dozing off not long after that. I’m positive that I didn’t eat anything last night because my mouth is almost watering when Tom starts piling things on my plate
“How hungry are you?”
Harrison asks munching away at his bread roll. I’m already picking at some grapes as Tom reaches for the eggs.
“Honestly, I’m starving”
“I’ll make sure to fill you up then”
Harrison chokes on his bread roll, laughter filling the back of his throat and I just want to run away and hide. By the looks of it, and how a shade of red is now creeping up Tom’s neck, he probably thinks the same. Tom coughs to clear his throat and then immediately tucks into his breakfast. We eat mostly in silence, other than Harrison making a small effort to start conversation, Tom and I keep to ourselves. I can’t help but feel my cheeks heat every time I look at him. How did I get myself into this crazy mess? How did I get involved with an actor?Though there are times I regret even meeting him, there are moment where I feel that small spark in my chest… that small feeling of hope that I know leads to nowhere good and straight to heart ache. Because whenever you find someone to love… you can always lose them.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
I’m staring out of my flat window watching Tom drive away. The car journey here was… less than awkward but the air in his car was thick. Every word he said sounded like it crawled on my skin. But in a good way. Every time he said my name, I could feel his lips pressed to my neck and that heat in my stomach began to drive me crazy. To say that I ran out the car the moment he reached my building is an understatement. So now here I am… staring out my window watch someone drive away like a weirdo. When Tom’s car disappears behind another building, I let out a breath that I didn’t even realise I was holding. It’s only 1 in the afternoon and my head still feels like it’s been hit with several bricks. I groan as I drag myself to my bedroom. Tom let me borrow some of his sweatpants and a pair of his socks. They barely cling to my frame and whenever I stretched, the sweatpants would almost drop down. But there was something I couldn’t stop doing, even know as I lay in my bed thinking things through. It feels like it’s become a weakness of mine. I pull toms shirt up to my nose and inhale. It sends a buzz through my whole body, one that I can’t explain. Though there’s only a trace of Tom’s scent on here, my brain recognises it straight away. The slight tingle it gives when I breathe him in, the memories of his body being close to mine. I can’t help myself. I take another deep inhale when suddenly my phone goes begins to ring again. It almost startles me, as if I’ve been caught doing something I shouldn’t. I pull the shirt down a little bit then reach to get my phone. My heart drops to my stomach when I see who’s calling me. There’s a small part of me that wants to answer Leo’s calls. To let me talk and hear his side but there’s another part of me that wants to just throw my phone and scream. I shiver as I remember the way he thought he could touch me… the way he grabbed my hips even though I was backing away from him. The words he said to me.
Another fucking fame whore
I think back to the disgusted face he had on him when he spoke vile words. The way his eyes scanned my body and disliked everything about it. I felt so small. I felt invisible yet so seen that it felt like I was standing there naked Infront of him. That asshole. I stare at my phone screen and with an almost aggressive action, I hang up the call then block him. Until things are cooled off, I want nothing to do with him… nothing. But sadly I wont have the luxury of avoid him. Because come Monday morning, I’ll be in the same building as him for 9 hours… and then for the rest of the week. I’m so tired.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Tom
This is all for you, all of it
I know it is but-
But what? I do everything for you! Everything I do is for you
But it’s not what I want!
What are you saying?
I never asked for any of this…
Well… neither did I but that’s just how life works.
Harrison’s been staring at me for a couple of minutes. His hand covering his mouth, elbow propped up on one knee that’s jiggling. Finally, after a lifetime of silence it seems like he’s going to speak.
“So. Let me get this straight—you asked her to go with you”
“I know it sounds stupid-”
“No no, it doesn’t sound stupid… it is stupid! Why would you ask her that? She has a life here Tom! A life that is bigger than whatever it is you feel for her, keep in mind that both of you don’t really know what the hell it is you feel for each other. But you can’t just snatch her away from her job because you want to be with her”
I let out a frustrated grown and rub my eyes. Though Harrison’s honesty is appreciated, it’s not something I want. I just want… I want to be able to do the right thing. I want y/n. there I said it. I want her badly. In every way possible, I want her.
“I know I know! but—fucking hell Haz I can’t get this girl out of my head. And last night? Last night was torture and I know that’s such an asshole think to say but it killed me when I had to leave that room, but I did it because…”
Deep breath in, deep breath out
“I did it because she’s not like the rest. I want more with her”
It took me saying out loud to Harrison to realise where my feelings for y/n lie. I want more with her. I want everything with her. Though by looking at Harrisons expression, I can tell he doesn’t seem too pleased.
“Haz-”
“Look… You know I love romance, I love the whole falling in love thing, but you need to realise that just because you feel this way… doesn’t mean she does too. Not saying that it’s definitely not clear as day that she is practically head over heels for you, but I think you need to talk to her properly before you push for things”
“That’s why I need her to come to Atlanta with me, Harrison, if I can take here away from the city—”
“Take here away from the city just to go to another city? Tom, do you hear yourself!”
I stand up from the couch and let my hand brush through my hair. Harrison was now getting on my nerves and just not understanding where I was coming from. I understand that we all think differently but he must see my point, right?
“Are you even listening to me! If I can take her to Atlanta, I can somehow get us private enough where we can talk about this… all of it and I don’t want to wait 4 months to have that conversation with her”
“And how do you plan on taking her away from her job for 4 months, Tom? What about the rent she has to pay for her flat and everything else she’s literally dropping because you want to whisk her away with you”
“You’re not getting it!”
My voice is harsh and louder this time as I yell my words. Harrison in response stands to his feet and looks me directly in the eyes as he lowers his voice, still full of left-over annoyance.
“No, you’re not getting it. What you’re doing right now, all these little ideasabout how you could make her life better won’t be beneficial to her. You will fuck this up if you keep acting like there will be no consequences to any of this. Just like the first time, when you almost kissed her, and just like last night when you weren’t fucking thinking”
My chest feels tight, and heat starts to spread up from my neck to my ears. I feel so angry. So angry that I want to yell at my best friend and tell him to fuck off and that it doesn’t matter. But all I do is huff my breath and stare at him as he turns away and walks to his room because… because I know he’s right. And I hate that he’s right because I can’t help with hat I’m going to do today. I’ll take the consequences when they come.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Reader
Promise me
What?
Promise me this is real and not some stupid plot
Where is this coming from?
Just promise me
I promise…
The autumn morning chill is prickling my skin, itching my nose and staining my cheeks with a red hue. Every time I let a breath out, I see if fog up Infront of me. I’ve been staring at the entrance to my office for 10 minutes and can’t get myself to just go in. I woke up this morning tired but with a clear head. Now I stand in the cold with all these thoughts going through my head. What will people think when they see me? Did they see the articles? Of course they have. Will Cara be in already or is she running late? What if Leo is waiting for me… it’s not when a hard gust of wind comes to chill my bones that I finally walk into the building. In the lift I already feel myself thaw from the cold, my cheeks flush with chill. My heart is lodged in my throat when the ding of the lift indicates I’m on my floor. Breathe. I walk out of the lift and head straight to my department. When I walk through the door, I notice Danny walk by with trays of goodies. When he looks up to see me, I catch the rush of pink that flows to his cheeks.
“Y/n! M-Morning! I just got these, fancy one?”
He stretches out a plat with a chocolate croissant on it. Normally I would devour these but today, my apatite what lost. The sweet smell of it is enough to make me sick so I hold my breath and kindly decline. I pass desk after desk, feeling some eyes on me as I walk by, but no one says a word. I finally reach mine and rush to sit in my chair, once I do I heave out a long breath and lay my head down near my keyboard. Only 8 hours and 45 minutes to go
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Time seems to pass by slowly. Ticking by seconds, then minutes then hours. I notice how people pass my desk, co-workers, they try to catch glimpses. I hear some of them whisper and gossip amongst eachother as they look to their phones and then to me
“So Tom Holland is in to her?”
I hear one girl say, she’s at a desk a few feet away.
“Could be just rumours”
“Doubt it. I saw Leo come in with a bruised jaw this morning”
Suddenly my heart drops at the mention of his name. The girls look up as I’m still looking over and are quick to get going. They don’t bother to say anything to me as they walk by. Leo. I can’t help but let his name make my skin tingle. I feel a shiver. I feel queasy and sick, and I feel like I want to run away because I know that at any moment, I could be seeing him—
“Y/n…”
Blonde hair, green eyes, freckles on the bridge of a nose, sharp jaw caressed with purple and blue hues…
“Leo”
His name is barely a breath on my tongue, and I realise that even my mouth hates saying his name. I struggle to swallow. My eyes meet his and now they’re locked. I can’t seem to break his gaze and I don’t know why. I see the dark circles under his eyes, the way he cheek bone stand out and how he seems like he hasn’t gotten any sleep. It’s when I look at the bruise again that sympathy pulls at my heart strings. No, he was an asshole I shouldn’t feel sorry for him.
“I’m so happy to see you, I’ve been trying to reach you since Friday night—god—y/n I just want to talk”
I break the eye contact and look away. I thought of so many things to say to him, so many ways to tell him to go fuck himself yet none of them are coming out. Instead, I get up on my feet and look for a way out. Anywhere but here, he wouldn’t follow me to the bathroom. Or maybe he’s sick enough to try.
“Wait y/n please—”
His voice cracks with desperation but I don’t care. When I feel the warmth of his hand reach my wrist, I feel something in my body go stiff. My heart’s beating so hard that is physically pains me to breathe. I turn to look at him and yank my arm free from his grip
“Don’t touch me”
I hiss. I don’t know where this venom has come from, but it escapes me. My breath is harsh as I try to keep my cool. Leo winces at my harshness but puts his hand back to his side.
“Y/n please, I just wanted to say I’m so sorry—”
“For what exactly? The groping? Trying to convince me to sleep with you? Oh wait, maybe you’re apologising for what you called me!”
I try my best to keep my voice down but with my last words I can’t help but become vocal. Some people are beginning to take notice of us, and I can feel the pressure of eyes on me.
“All of it! Okay. I’m sorry for all of it. I don’t know what came over me I was just—I was just”
“Drunk? Please tell me that’s not you’re excuse because if that’s it then you’re just pathetic”
“It’s not a good excuse I know but it’s the only thing I can think of—”
“Are you kidding me?!”
I turn around again and take quick strides to the coffee machine with Leo right on my heels. I can’t believe this asshole. He had the weekend to come up with at least a decent enough excuse, not that I would’ve accepted any of them, but at least something better than ‘I was drunk’. When I feel Leo’s touch again, I don’t hesitate to yank my arm out even more aggressively. How fucking dare he
“Y/n—”
“I said don’t touch me!”
I spit the words and my hands go to his chest to give him a shove. I barely do anything to faze him, and Leo just stares at me, hands now up in the air in surrender.
“I’m sorry I’m sorry I just—fuck. Y/n I don’t know what to say to make you forgive me”
“You don’t need to say anything. Because I won’t forgive you, what you did was sick and horrible”
“You can’t be serious?”
This is when Leo’s true colours come out. His whole stature changes. The way his eyes are now squinting at me, as he’s trying to read the thoughts in my head.
“Tell me y/n, did you get mad at Tom for punching me?”
“What he did was probably nothing less than what you deserved”
Leo’s whole attitude is changing and reminding me more of how he was at the club. I can’t keep talking to him because I feel like I might throw up. But Leo doesn’t stop.
“Did you go home with him?”
“Excuse me?”
“Did he take you back to his place and sleep with you, tell me. I need to see if that asshole managed to get into as well”
I huff and puff my breath. I want to scream, I want to punch that look right of from his face. I clench my fists to control my anger.
“Whatever I do, or who I choose to sleep with has nothing to do with you”
For a moment we’re just glaring at each other. The corner of Leos lips tugs upwards, and it literally makes my stomach twist with disgust.
“Y/n! ah, there you are”
My thoughts are snapped to a deep, friendly voice. Randall stands a few feet away gesturing to me. Suddenly I forget my words.
“Will you join me in my office? There are a few things I’d like to discuss”
I gulp down the last of my anger, and without a word turn my back to Leo and walk, but not before hearing his hushed words.
“You’re just another pretty thing to him”
His words hit me in a place I didn’t realise I had kept closed. Though there was nothing between me and Tom, nothing official anyways, I couldn’t help but feel like there was something a bit… deeper. I don’t know what but just something. I follow Randall into his voice when my eyes drift around to see a figure standing by his desk. And for the third time today, my heart seems to stop and drop into my stomach. My eyes widen. Confusion is filling my mind when I say
“Tom?”
“Hey”
He says warmly. The sound of his voice. Oh, how it wraps around my body and makes me feel whole. His smile brings me comfort and when he looks at me, I feel like I’ve been draped in a hug.
“what—what are you doing here?”
“Y/n dear, take a seat will you. Don’t worry you’re not in any trouble, in fact it’s quite the opposite”
I blink a few times. My brain is trying to comprehend what’s happening, but every time my eyes look up to see Tom standing in front of me, I blank. I get myself settled into Randall’s office chair and wait to hear what he’s about to say, knots already forming in my stomach.
“To say that I am more than pleased to be having this conversation wouldn’t be a lie”
“Sorry to ask this, but… what’s going on?”
“Yes, I was just about to explain”
Randall laughs lightly to himself then sits by the edge of his desk, quite near to Tom.
“It seems you’re luck never stops y/n”
“What?”
“Mr Holland contacted me over the weekend where he chose to speak about your work here in the office. Needless to say, everything he said about you and your performance here made me feel very proud of you—anyways—Mr Holland has asked me if there would be a chance to hire you out personally for a handful of months”
It clicks. It all clicks. Tom was serious about it all. Tom asked me and I said if he could organise it with my work I would go, and he actually did it. My breath comes out in long exhales. I can’t believe this is happening.
“Of course, I was a bit hesitant at first, I mean, you are the best on our team but don’t go mentioning that to the others”
Once again Randall laughs. My eyes are only on Tom who’s staring right back at me. His eyes making my face burn.
“But with some persuading, I have come to accept his offer and I hope that you do too”
I still don’t break away from Toms eyes. My lips move to speak, and I ask the question even though I know the answer already. I know why Tom’s here, and I know what Randall is going to tell me, but I just need to hear it. Need to hear that Tom actually did all this because he wanted me to go with him.
“W-What’s the offer?”
Randall claps his hands for a moment then speaks
“If you would be willing to do a transfer to our offices in Atlanta”
Atlanta. Atlanta. Atlanta
“I know this seems like a big jump since it would require leaving the country and technically living there for 4 months, but rest assured I have arranged everything if you wish to follow through. You would only be required to work from your home office for 3 days a week, same pay rate as if you were being paid for the full week, courtesy of Mr Holland. You will also have all your accommodation and meals provide, plus the flight fare, once again, courtesy of Mr Holland”
It feels, like my whole world has been tipped upside down. Like I can’t breathe but breathe too much. As if everything I know is about to change in this very moment all because of Tom… all because of…
“And when do we—when do I need to travel?”
I finally take my eyes off Tom and look at Randall who readjusts his sitting position slightly. I swallow hard.
“Well… Tomorrow night”
My whole life. Is going to change… by tomorrow night. I could say no, I could stay and Tell Randall that I’m not interested in going and tell Tom that we should stop whatever is going on. But I don’t. I don’t say no because I want to see where this goes. So with my eyes looking at Tom, I meet his chocolate brown eyes and answer.
“Okay”
His lips tug up into a smile, which he tries to hide but I see it. I see it and it makes me feel warm inside.
“I’ll go. I’ll get everything ready when I get home later tonight”
“Oh no need to worry about that dear! Take the rest of the day off, you have enough to worry about in the next 24 hours so please, go home and get everything you need sorted”
Randall seems to be chuffed. The rest of the conversation seems to be a blur, I don’t even remember signing something. I do kind of because it was a legal document stating that if anything were to happen to me, Tom and the office in Atlanta would be responsible for me. Next thing I know I’m saying thank you to Randall and leaving his office to grab my things and go home. When a soft warm hand touches my arm. My body goes on fire. Body heat, I feel it. I feel Toms body heat all through my spin, behind my neck, through my arms, everywhere. And it’s intoxicating.
“I told you I’d handle it”
He whispers into my ear. I try hard not to let the softness of his voice send a shiver through me, but it does and I hope that Tom didn’t notice.
“This is crazy”
“You could’ve said no”
“I know”
I know he’s smiling. I can almost feel his smile on my neck though he’s nowhere near it. I think. I don’t even know what to think, all I can think about is how close his breath is and how his hand is still on my arm, and I want to feel his palms all over me. Get a hold of yourself.
“I-I said yes because—because I wanted to go”
“To Atlanta, or with me?”
There’s another touch to my side. It’s light and I barely feel it but I know it’s the tips of Toms fingers looking around for something to ignite. I feel like I’m on fire.
“Both”
“mmmh I see”
His voice is lower, it’s so low that the hair on the back of my neck stands up.
“Well
“Well, now that you’re coming with me—”
His fingers travel up and his body moves closer. Closer. Oh god. He uses his hands to push my hair away from my ear. I feel his lips and I cave, biting my lip to concentrate. I’m at work, this shouldn’t be happening.
“—I can guarantee you, that I’ll be finishing what you started Friday night”
“Tom—”
His lips press lightly to my neck and I almost jolt in his arms. But just as quick as I feel him on my skin, the warmth goes cold, and his hands are now in his pocket.
“I’ll wait for you downstairs to take you home”
I don’t say anything. I don’t think anything because my body is reacting in ways that makes it physically painful to think of anything but Tom… and what’s in store for me in Atlanta…
29 notes · View notes
peterr-parkourr · 11 hours ago
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Summary: Running into your former best friend on your 25th birthday wasn’t in your celebration plans. What makes It even worse is that he doesn’t even seem to remember you or the reason you completely disappeared from his life. What is in your plans though, is to make him fall in love with you only to break him the way he broke you. There’s no way you could end up hurt again…right?
Pairings: Tom Holland x plus size! reader
Word Count: 1.2K
Chapter Warnings: SMUT (18+ readers only please) and a hell of a lot of cursing
A/N: Here we go! This is my first time writing any sort of smut so please bare with me. Take a minute to reblog if you like it, it’s really appreciated. If you’d like to be added to the taglist, just let me know. Enjoy.
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Chapter 4: Gimme Something I Can Feel
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His kiss was harsh and demanding. Yours was just the same, pouring all of the feelings you had pent up for the last ten years into it. You’d be surprised if your lips weren’t bruised from the intensity of it.
Your hand quickly found purchase in his mess of curls, tugging slightly, eliciting a moan from his swollen lips. You took the opportunity, slipping your tongue in to caress his.
His hands grew needier on your waist, suddenly grabbing the fabric of your red dress, scrunching it up until your lower half was exposed, the matching red lace thong on full display. God, you were happy you decided to dress for the possibility of a hook up.
You broke apart from the kiss to catch your breath, his lips immediately biting and sucking bruises into the skin of your neck. “Tom,” you whined, your panties growing wetter and more uncomfortable by the second. Your nails clawed at his shirt, desperately wanting to remove it but you knew your time was limited. Any moment some other drunk could be knocking on the door - this was the only bathroom after all.
This had to be quick, which for most guys wasn’t a problem. But, fuck, you hoped Tom had a little more stamina than the other guys you had been with. You quickly reached down, unbuttoning his pants and pushing them down his legs in a haste. He got the message, pulling away from your neck to slip two fingers between his lips. His pupils were blown wide with lust as he stared into yours. His hands began to make their way down your sides, rubbing down your thighs and towards your center. You shook your head, your breathing increasing. It was nearly embarrassing how wet you were, but in your defense it had been so long since you had been with someone and this was Tom for god sake. The man you had only dreamt about doing these things with. You prayed he wouldn’t notice your confident demeanor slip as you panted, “I’m good.”
His eyebrows furrowed, “you sure?” His fingers traced the outline of your underwear, feeling them already soaked through and he smirked. “Got it.”
“Shut up,” you grabbed his face and brought him in for another bruising kiss. His hands busied themselves, nearly ripping your panties as he pulled them down your legs and over your heels. He tossed them on the sink before lifting you up to rest on it as well. You were so distracted with the feeling of his swollen lips on yours that you hadn’t noticed him pull down his boxers. You were barely aware of him rubbing his length between your folds to lubricate himself before he thrusted in just an inch. But, god, was that inch enough for you both to groan, foreheads falling to press against each others. You could tell he was trying to control himself so you spurred him on by trying to push your hips down, panting out, “More. Please.”
Without so much as a second thought, he captured your lips as he thrust up until he was fully sheathed inside you. He gave you a few seconds to adjust before he set a steady pace. Your nails dug crescent shaped marks into his forearms, trying to find purchase as you rocked with him. The only sounds in the room were the slapping of your skin, your moans - intermittently combined with your pants for “more” and “faster” - and his grunts. His hands held so deeply onto your hips that you were sure there’d be finger-shaped bruises the next morning.
“Tom, Tom, right there, please,” you could feel the coil growing, surprised that he was able to get you to this point so fast. The tip of his dick was hitting just the right spot, and the thickness of it stretched you out perfectly. You’d be using the memory of this to get you off for weeks to follow for sure.
“Come on, come for me.” His voice was gravely as he licked his index and middle finger and brought them down to your clit, rubbing in perfect synchronicity with his thrusts.
Your legs began to shake as you clenched around him, spasming as you finally reached your high. “Fuck!” You couldn’t help but yell out, the patrons right outside the door not even a thought in your mind. He grunted louder than he had all night, his forehead leaning against yours as he rode out his own orgasm. “Fuck,” he whispered, steadying his breathing.
He broke out into a grin as you began to giggle. You had no idea how you ended up here, but you weren’t mad at the outcome.
You felt empty as he slipped out of you, readjusting his boxers and jeans to their former fit. You hopped off the sink, reaching behind yourself for your underwear. His hands were quicker than yours as he snatched it away, a smirk on his lips while he placed them in his back pocket.
“You can get them back on our second date.”
“Second date, hmm? What makes you think the first date was good enough?”
“I’d say your shaking legs were proof enough,” he chuckled as you playfully shoved him away.
“Come on, let’s get you home,” he held his hand out for you, your eyes shifting from his eyes to his outstretched palm which you took with a sigh.
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“Good Morning!!” Lucia’s bubbly voice caused the pounding in your head to quadruple.
“Nooooooo! Please god no!” You grumbled, grabbing the blanket to pull over your entire body, including your head. ‘It’s too fucking early. How are you both such morning people?”
You couldn’t see it, but you could sense Lucia shrugging. “It’s just a gift I guess. Plus, Kiara isn’t here.”
You pulled the blanket down just enough to peek an eye at her. “She’s not?”
“Nah, she stayed over lover boy’s place. I guess both of you got lucky.”
“What do you me—“ you cut yourself off, flashes of last night playing through your head like a bad compilation video.
“Oh my god,” you sat up fast, quickly discarding your blanket. You were still clad in your little red dress from the night before as you rushed over to your mirror, looking for the telltale signs.
Sure enough your neck was littered in little purple marks, decorating your skin like the freckles that covered his perfect face. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK. This wasn’t the plan. You were gonna make him work for it. There’s no way you could lure him in now. He’d be onto his next conquest in no time.
“Yeah, he was a cutie. He even tucked you in and asked for your number before he left.”
You spun around, feeling the bile rise in your throat at the fast movement. “He what?”
Your phone beeped, signaling a new text. Both of your eyes immediately fell upon it, then to each other’s, then back to the phone that you both pounced on. Lucia was faster, grabbing it, typing in the password she had memorized years ago, and clicking on the text.
“Had a great time last night. Could you use coffee as much as I can right now? This is Tom, by the way.” Lucia spoke in a mocking tone as she read the text out loud. You had barely processed the text by the time she texted back and tossed the phone on the bed.
“Get dressed, you have a date in an hour.” And with that she strode past you and into Kiara’s room where she presumably spent the night.
Fuck.
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Taglist: @blindingdutchy @rosyparkers @gh0stgurl @wayfaring----stranger
25 notes · View notes
t-lostinworlds · 3 months ago
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Torn Leaves, Broken Hearts (Tom Holland)
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A/N: did anyone order some heartache? no? oh, well...anyways. i genuinely did think this idea would be a quick snap and go but...here it is 24 days later lol. i felt quite emotional writing this but i’m a bit unsure if it will be as heartbreaking for others as it was for me a.k.a if i successfully managed to translate the hurt i actually felt into words. lmao is it obvious i’m not too sure about this fic?? anyhow, i hope you guys still enjoy! ++ trying a slightly new format! is the small text difficult to read?? pls lemme know! <3
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》 PAIRING: tom holland x female!reader 》 TROPE/GENRE: established relationship; fluff; angst 》 SUMMARY: most couples fight, you and Tom weren't an exception. It started out as an argument, but when Tom lost control of his temper, he just took it a leap too far. 》 WARNINGS: starts very fluffy, loads of plants & planting, few sexual innuendos, soft!supportive!boyfriend!tom, heated make out (very brief), glimpse of carpenter!tom, argument/fight, angry!tom (not in a hot way), temper tantrum (not in a cute way), talks of golf, use of golf club (not in a good way) [i’m sorry in advance, i love golf!tom i promise], emotional/mental breakdown, heartbreaking angst (will vary per person aha), happy/emotional/resolved ending. 》 WORD COUNT: 18.3k+ (at least 5k she said ha what a lie)
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✩ TOM HOLLAND MASTERLIST ✩ MAIN MASTERLIST ✩
⊱ ─────.⋅♚ *。・゚.★. *。・゚✫*.
"Darling, I'm home!" Tom announced, placing his golf equipment down by the door to then toeing off his shoes. Treading deeper into the house in his sock-clad feet, his brows furrowed, wondering if you, yourself had arrived from work. "Love, you home?"
"Kitchen!"
Tom found you exactly where you said you were, but he was more surprised with the pop of various colors littered on the countertop. He took in the scent that greeted his nostrils, the whole kitchen smelling sweet, a bit citrusy, but all-around fruity.
"Whatcha doin, beautiful?" Tom murmured as he slotted himself behind you, arms snaking around your waist as he placed a tender kiss on your cheek.
You turned your head to look at him with an adorable pout, making Tom chuckle. Gladly obliging to your request, he leaned in for a kiss with a satisfied hum, heart softening, smile widening at the newfound flavor present on your lips.
You tasted like apples.
After relishing it for a couple of seconds more—pecking your lips playfully until he was satisfied with the giggles you were emitting—Tom pulled away. He rested his chin on your shoulder, loosening his hold around you a little so you could move freely. He gave your waist a light squeeze, signaling you to resume what you were doing before he interrupted.
Tom observed as you cut up an apple carefully, taking out the seeds and placing them in a bowl filled with water right beside the cutting board.
"I stumbled on this video the other day about how it's quite easy to grow plants from the seeds of a fruit, even when it's from the supermarket," you explained, proceeding to remove the apple seeds that were floating above the water. "And I don't know, I guess I just wanted to try it out and see if I could do it, too."
"So that's why you've got the whole fruit section in our kitchen," Tom teased, eyes scanning the few fruits that were present, some already cut up while some were still whole.
There were oranges, lemons, mangoes, avocados, apples, and a huge watermelon. The oranges were already cut in wedges, same with the lemons, too. Their respective seeds were placed in a bowl with a piece of paper underneath, your writing scribbled onto it to indicate which seed was what. It was quite adorable how you had everything organized.
"Shut up. It's just a couple of fruits," you scoffed with a roll of your eyes, playfully nudging his stomach with your elbow. He only laughed in response. After a few seconds of silence, you asked, "How was your day?"
"Pretty great, actually," Tom hummed, placing soft kisses on the side of your neck before he added, "Even better with some apples."
You laughed, nodding as you offered him a slice. Tom took the fruit from your fingers with his lips, never letting his hands go anywhere else but on the warm skin of your stomach as he slipped them under your shirt.
"Had a great round?" you wondered, bringing the same fingers up to your mouth before you suckled off the apple juice that's coated your fingertips. Tom had no clue if you were doing it on purpose, or if you were completely oblivious to the fact that the simple action could turn him on in more ways than he anticipated.
"Yup," Tom said with his mouth full, shifting in his place, swallowing the fruit before he added, "Got a hole in one, too. Wish you were there to see it, though."
Despite not knowing much about golf, never did you fail to show him support with his love for it throughout. Besides that, you were interested in the sport enough to come along whenever you could, Tom teaching you a thing or two every time you're in the course with him. But sometimes, your schedules simply don't coincide given that he does have more free time than you when he's back home.
"I don't need to see to know that you were amazing. Especially with that hole in one," you hummed. You were still focused on your task at hand, but the playfulness was obvious in your tone when you added, "You do have great accuracy, can't deny that."
"Are we still talking about golf?" he murmured, smirk in full play and he didn't need to see it to know that you were rolling your eyes at him. "But, whichever you meant, thank you, darling."
"Love getting your ego stroked sometimes, don't you?"
"No, no, no." Tom shook his head in slight denial. "I do love getting something else stroked though. Especially with those lovely fingers," he drawled against your ear, tracing his fingers up and down your waist in long, slow motions.
"Tom!" you gasped, turning to look at him with a rather stern, almost chastising face when you added, "Are you serious? Right in front of my fruit salad?"
"You're unbelievable," Tom grumbled with a pointed eye-roll at your somewhat, quotation of that meme. You erupted in heaps of laughter in response, the lovely sound tugging the corner of his lips upwards. "Now, what can I do to help? Or would you rather me distract you more with...other things," he hummed, dipping his head to place open-mouth kisses on the exposed skin of your neck. Voice lowering a few octaves, he added, "Because I really do want to distract you with other things."
You giggled softly, your fingers finding their way into his hair as you tilted your head to the side to give him more access. "Well, since you offered," you trailed off, your honey-toned voice making Tom's skin tingle, making him excited. That until you escaped his grasp, pulled a knife from one of the drawers, and pushed the green, striped fruit towards him with a wide smile. "Cut this watermelon up, please? And be careful not to cut too many seeds in half."
Taking the knife from your hands with a shake of his head, Tom sighed in pure amusement, "Yes, ma'am."
Just as he was about to begin cutting the fruit, you made your way behind him. He followed your movements carefully through his peripheral, a low hum escaping his lips when your fingers ran up his chest, your front pressed against his back.
You gave his clothed shoulder a feather-like kiss, moving even closer as you purred, "And then after, I'd like to know more about these other things you were going to distract me with."
"Oh—" Tom's breath hitched, your warm lips finding their way on that specific spot just below his ear, suckling on it gently, earning a low groan from him. "Yes, ma'am."
***
As the weeks went by, you had been persistent in making sure you were taking great care of the seeds that you stored in various places.
You had the avocado seeds suspended with the use of toothpicks in plastic cups. It was filled with water that covered half the seed, all of them situated by the kitchen backdoor because, 'They need sunlight, but not too harsh sunlight,' was your words.
The others were placed in damp paper towels, stored in respective Ziploc bags which can be found around the kitchen. The watermelon, mango, orange, and lemon seeds were in this cupboard near the oven while the apples were in the fridge. As you explained, some of the seeds like it warm while some like it a bit cooler.
It was genuinely endearing the way you made sure that each seeds' needs were rightfully met. Not to mention, the way you thoroughly kept an eye on them for you not to miss if the water of the avocados were needed changing, or if the paper towels had gotten slightly dry.
Tom could see that you were truly passionate about this newfound hobby of yours, and he was deeply hoping that results would show sooner. He really didn't want to see the heartbreak and disappointment that would cover your face if it was otherwise.
"Tom! Tom!"
"What, what," he rushed, making his way into the kitchen to find you squatted down in front of the apple box—the one he found for you a couple of days ago—where the avocados were now perched, an upgrade from their previous place on the floor.
"Look!" You stood up to your full height, one plastic cup held carefully in your hand as you brought it in his line of sight. "The avocados have cracked!"
"That's amazing, love," Tom hummed, eyes cast on the little split on the avocado for only a second as his gaze quickly landed on that beautiful smile playing on your lips.
"Wait let me check the—'' You rushed to place the avocado back before checking your other group of seeds, a gasp followed by that sweet laugh—one he absolutely loves hearing—echoing around the kitchen as you went over all of them. "Look at their tiny little roots!" you exclaimed as Tom walked over to you, showing him the inside of the Ziploc bag which held a couple of seeds that already had short white roots emerging out of them.
Tom felt his heart melt ten times over, simply seeing that bright, excited smile that adorned your face. Added with the utter joy laced in your tone, it was more than enough to make him be absolutely smitten with you as if he wasn't smitten enough already.
You placed the seeds back to their rightful places, turning to Tom with that smile that never did waver, even in the slightest.
Tom matched your grin, walking closer to you until he was able to wrap his arms around your waist. "You're so adorable you know that?" he gushed, nudging the tip of his nose with yours which made your grin grow shyer but glow brighter. "I love seeing that gorgeous smile of yours."
"I'm just really glad it actually worked," you sighed, leaning closer for a tender yet sweet kiss. Your happiness was exuding out of you, your smile obvious against his lips and his heart could only soar. Tom could feel it wash over him with such warmth that he couldn't stop his own grin from widening by a mile.
"I know, and I'm glad it did too," he hummed, pulling away a few seconds later. Tom cupped your face tenderly with both hands, thumbs running over the corners of your lips that were both upturned. "It makes my heart flutter every time I see you happy, my love."
***
Tom was sure he had a love-struck smirk on his face the whole time he pushed the cart. He was following you around as you trod down the whole gardening section in the supermarket.
It was quite a lovely sight to see you read each label thoroughly, making sure that you were picking out the right garden soil and pots for your two-month-old seeds. Tom swore he felt his heart leap out of his chest when he saw you be so excited the moment you found those mini shovels you were quick to fall in love with.
Now, you had a little crinkle between your brows, lips pursed as you softly mumbled out the ingredients and nutrients of this compost you were getting. You had your phone in one hand, checking twice if what was written on this sack was good for your newly grown plants.
It was so damn adorable, and he wanted nothing more than to pull you in his arms and kiss the living daylights out of you. He would've already but he didn't want to disturb your cute state, so he decided to just stay back and admire. It wasn't until you spoke did Tom realize that you had already caught him staring.
"What?"
He blinked before his smile turned softer, head tilted to the side as he breathed out, "Nothing."
"You're bored aren't you?" you asked, a small frown appearing on your lips as you walked over to him with the bag of compost in your hand and placing it in the cart. "Am I taking so long?"
"Of course not, I'm quite enjoying myself actually. I've got a very gorgeous and adorable view," he admitted shamelessly, but your little frown didn't go anywhere. Tom sighed. He took your hand in his, squeezing it reassuringly as he added. "And no, take as much time as you need, love. I adore seeing you be so meticulous when it comes to your plants."
"Really? Is it not too much?" you asked, voice turning shy as you tilted your head at him.
Tom saw the slight insecurity that appeared in your eyes, his brows furrowing at your sudden change in demeanor. "Never, darling," he said with utmost honesty. "Being passionate about something, no matter how mundane it may seem, is never too much. That includes your love for your little plants."
You smiled softly without another word. Instead, your fingers found their way onto his cheek, his touch soft as you leaned closer to press your lips against his.
Tom hummed in satisfaction, grin widening as his heart swelled. He didn't need any more words. He could feel it in your kiss that you were grateful for him. And that itself will always fill him up with joy without fail.
***
After lunch, you immediately made your way to the yard to get moving with your agenda for the rest of the day: transferring your seeds to their respective pots of soil.
Tom had just gotten off an important call when he decided to take a peek at his girlfriend. Arms crossed over his chest, a smirk plastered all over his face, he leaned against the door frame of the backdoor, eyes trained on the beautiful woman that he's so goddamn lucky he gets to call his.
The sun was high and bright on the clear blue sky, the air warm, tiptoeing to being somewhat hot. It was the perfect time to do a bit of gardening, and of course, you seized the moment at its best. So here you were in the backyard, sitting on this small chair under the blaring sun, a blue bandana on your head in an attempt to keep your hair back.
Tom couldn't stop his grin from growing as he ogled at you for a moment.
You were adorable and hot, not either-or, but both at the same time. You simply wore a dark blue tank top and some denim shorts, skin glistening under the afternoon rays in a way that Tom craved to litter it with kisses laced with praise because damn, you were gorgeous.
But then he caught a glimpse of the pink, flower-printed gardening gloves that covered both your hands, the mini shovel curled in your fingers as you gradually filled up each pot with soil. That cute furrow in your brows was present as you carefully placed the seed in one by one. And his heart could do nothing more but swell at how endearing the image was.
You were making him feel a plethora of emotions, different from one second to the next, and honestly, Tom couldn't complain. It was a whiplash he welcomed wholeheartedly.
With a deep exhale, you brought your forearms to your forehead, wiping away the sweat that coated your skin. It was when Tom decided that he at least had to lend a helping hand rather than just stare at you the whole time. And best believe he could do the latter with no problems at all.
Retreating inside, he took a clean, cotton towel from the closet drawers, moving to the kitchen after to get you a cold glass of water before venturing out into the yard to where you were sitting.
Your head lifted at the sound of his footsteps growing nearer, your smile widening as you locked eyes with him.
"Hey there, gorgeous," Tom hummed, crouching down to be level with you, giving you a quick peck on the lips before handing you the water. After you took a drink, he placed his fingers under your chin, bringing the towel up with his other hand and dabbing away the sweat that kissed your face.
"Thank you," you giggled, scrunching up your nose to which Tom couldn't resist and place a soft kiss there as well. You resumed what you were doing as you gave him back the glass of water. He stood back up his full height, squinting as he looked up at the sky before they landed back on you with a subtle frown on his lips.
"It's not good to stay far too long under the sun, darling," Tom said, moving in his place to use his body as a shield from the bright glare, giving your eyes a break from squinting up at him. You'd been out here for over an hour now. While some sun won't hurt, having too much of it can be quite harmful, same with everything else.
"I'm fine, bub, it's only for today," you said, smile still present and not at all bothered by the scorching rays.
He pursed his lips, tilting his head at you before an idea came to his mind. "You know what, I'll go grab a chair and sit here with an umbrella."
"Tom—"
"Too late," he quipped, placing the glass beside you before rushing back inside to find a stool. He then took one of those deep black umbrellas that were kept by the door. He came back out with a grin, situating himself beside you. He opened up the umbrella, angling it rightly to give you some much-needed shade. He draped the towel over his lap, taking the water back in his hands and sat there proudly. You merely flashed him a pout. Tom chuckled, "I enjoy watching you work. So, I'll be your gardening assistant for today, ma'am."
You looked at him with a frown, eyes holding that same insecurity again, the one that glowed briefly back in the supermarket.
"Thank you for putting up with me," you breathed out, gesturing towards your pots before adding, "And this."
"Nothing to thank me for since I'm not putting up with anything," Tom said, thumb reaching over to wipe away the speckle of dirt on your cheek and the tip of your nose. His palm then cupped your face, eyes locked with yours for you to see his sincerity. "Trust me when I say, seeing you be so excited over something you're passionate about and seeing you be so happy, it's greatly rewarding on my part, too."
And Tom meant every word, even when sometimes you almost gave him a heart attack...
"Tom!"
The sharp shrill of your voice had Tom up on his feet in no time. He rushed out to the backyard, sheer worry written on his face until he found you standing in front of your plants, completely and utterly fine.
"A tiny sprout just came out," you said with a wide grin, pointing at the pot that was right in front of you.
"Fucking hell—you need to stop screaming so suddenly, love," he breathed out, his palm right over his heart as he shook his head at you. "I thought you had an accident or something," he explained, walking closer to where you were standing.
"I'm sorry," you said sheepishly, reaching for him with an open palm to which he gladly slipped his hand in. "There's a little sprout on the pot," you repeated, this time, in a whisper which made him shake his head with a chuckle. Giving you a quick peck on the lips, he cast his eyes on the pot you were pointing at.
"Wow, would you look at that," he said, catching sight of the littlest sprout that emerged out of the soil. Tom pulled you in his embrace, love-filled eyes locking with yours. "You're amazing, you know that? And I'm so proud of you, darling."
...or even when it interrupted the mood for a bit.
Tom groaned lowly as you pressed yourself down, legs on either side of him as you sat on his lap, grinding on him slowly but lusciously. His hands gripped your waist tightly, his hips meeting your movements as he rested his head against the back of the couch, giving your fervent lips more access to leave as many marks as you pleased over his stretched-out neck.
He pushed his hands upwards, your shirt bunching around his wrist as he teasingly ran his thumbs just below the swell of your bare breast. You let out a soft whine, Tom responding with a low chuckle at your utmost neediness.
Just as he was about to pull the shirt over your head, the sky rumbled, the harsh pitter-patter of heavy raindrops hitting the roof following soon after.
You immediately pulled away from him with wide eyes, not giving Tom even a second to recollect himself when you so suddenly got off him, ran towards the backdoor, and made your way out.
"Love, wait!" He attempted to follow until you held up a palm to stop him. You continued your way down the backyard to where your plants were located. Running a hand through his hair, Tom called out, "You should've brought an umbrella, darling!"
"It's okay! You stay there! I've got this!" you yelled over the heavy rain. Your body was getting soaked with each ticking second as you hurriedly yet carefully pulled the tarp you had at the ready—in case something like this happened—over your rows of seedlings.
He shook his head with a sigh, running to your shared bedroom to get you some towels. When he got back, you were already by the open door, teeth chattering, arms wrapped around your body in a poor attempt to keep yourself warm.
Tom looked at you disapprovingly, wrapping one towel around your shaking form before pulling you back inside.
"T-They we're g-going to drown if I left them o-out too long u-under the r-rain," you reasoned, merely flashing him a cute but guilty pout.
"I honestly don't know if I should scold you right now, or kiss the living daylights out of that adorable face," he grumbled, putting another towel over your wet hair. "Come on. Let's get you dried up before you catch a cold."
"I think I need to take a hot shower," you said, pecking his lips as a form of 'thank you' before you trod down the hall. Before you could disappear, you stopped and looked at him over your shoulder, a sly smile appearing on your lips as you added, "You can join, if you want."
Tom grinned at that. "Don't mind if I do," he drawled, your squeals and laughs bouncing off the walls as he ran after you.
***
You weren't sure if the bright glare of the morning sun was what woke you up, or if it was the constant hammer banging on wood, which you assumed was coming from your backyard.
A sigh escaped you, matched with an eye roll as your gaze landed on the unclosed curtain by Tom's side of the room. Your man had always been unable to close the curtains without a bit of a reminder, so if you so happened to forget to do so, best believe it stays open.
It's an ongoing habit of his, one that's partly annoying, partly endearing. Annoying because most of the time, you find yourself waking up a little too early than you're supposed to. Endearing because, well, solely because of the cute pout and puppy eyes you're met the second you stir awake and turn to Tom with a knowing look.
Speaking of, you checked the time on your phone, you furrowed your brows at the empty spot beside you. It merely just reached 8 AM, yet your man was already nowhere to be found. It made you a little concerned. That until the hammering continued again, and if you weren't sure before, you were now. It definitely was coming from your backyard.
Curious, you went downstairs to see what the commotion was about, and you were more than glad to catch him right on the act, doing this thing he did on a rarity whenever he had some free time.
Tom was shirtless, let's start there. He had his white t-shirt tucked in the waistband of basketball shorts, the fabric swishing behind him with each movement he made. Said shorts were hanging a little too low at his hips, but you weren't at all complaining. It was giving you a nice glimpse of his V-line, one you'll never get used to seeing no matter what. A cap put on backwards sat atop his head, hiding those unruly curls you've grown to adore and more. There was a pencil placed between his lips, his brows furrowed in concentration as he hammered down the nail into the wooden board, biceps flexing with purpose every time he did so.
Oh, what a sight for sore eyes seeing your man in action. It was one gorgeous view to see first thing this fine morning. You love seeing Tom put his carpentry skills to use, it's quite endearing and hot at the same time.
"I was wondering where you went this early," you said as you walked over to him. Tom so suddenly scrambled to his feet, a look of pure surprise crossing his face which only made you furrow your brows at him. Not thinking much of it, you asked, "Have you eaten yet, bub?"
"Yeah, I had cereal. And I started early because well..." Tom trailed off, pout in full play as he moved to the side. "I wanted to surprise you."
"With what?" You looked behind him. Too busy ogling at your man—honestly, you couldn't blame yourself—you finally caught sight of what he was busy with. As realization slowly filled your brain, your heart stopped. "Is that—"
"Mhmm, your state-of-the-art, very original, made with love of the highest quality, plant rack or plant display, whatever you want to call it," Tom answered proudly, hand out for you to take to which you gladly did.
"I—how, why?" you stammered, looking at him, then at his project, and then back at him with nothing but utter amazement on your face.
Tom shrugged with a chuckle, him kissing the tip of your nose before he hummed, "I wanted to build them a proper place of their own."
He pulled you closer to his side, wrapping an arm around your waist as he gestured around his project with the hammer he had on his other hand. "I made it staircase-style so that you can see each plant on display, and that nothing gets overshadowed when their leaves start to grow bigger." When he gestured to the side, you caught sight of more wood along with what seemed to be a clear roof. "The guy at the hardware store suggested I get this transparent roof so that they're still getting some sun but it won't be too much whenever it gets hot out," Tom confirmed your thoughts.
You felt your heart burst at the seams, tears prickling in your eyes as you looked at Tom with nothing but utmost gratitude and adoration all over your features.
"Aww, darling, don't cry," he cooed, carefully dropping the hammer before he pulled you into his embrace, kissing your temple softly. You wrapped your arms around his waist with a shaky breath, nuzzling your face on the crook of his neck as you basked in his warmth.
There had been a lingering thought in the back of your head that maybe he'd find it silly and stupid the way you were fussing about plants now. Even you, yourself had your doubts, thinking that maybe it was mundane and maybe it was best to find "better" stuff to do. But his constant show of support, his never-ending encouragement and praise were quick to shut those thoughts down.
And he's right, no matter how mundane planting may seem, you love and enjoy it, you're passionate about it, and that's the most important thing to remember, the only thing you need to keep it going.
Still, seeing Tom put in the effort so he could show you the best of his support filled your heart with gratitude, melted every fiber of your being into a puddle of wonderful emotions from love, gratification, and joy.
"You know you didn't have to," you said once you pulled away, pouting at him as you tried your best to keep your tears at bay.
"I know, but I wanted to," he hummed, pecking your lips swiftly before flashing you a bright grin. "At least your little plants have their own little home, and so next time, you don't have to worry when it suddenly rains or if they’re getting too harsh sun."
"No more running out into the rain, gotcha," you teased with a giggle.
"Still a little mad with you about that by the way, missy," Tom scolded playfully with a raise of his brow. You only flashed him an innocent smile, kissing his lips a couple of times until he was grinning widely. And oh how much you love seeing that handsome face glow. Squeezing your waist, he added, "Also, this is temporary until the greenhouse kit I ordered will arrive in the next few months. They were out of stock so I decided on the next best thing."
You swear your heart couldn't grow any bigger, but it did.
"Have I told you how much of an amazing boyfriend you are?" you marveled, cupping his face delicately, thumb stroking the sun-kissed skin of his cheek in pure adoration.
"Would like to hear it more often though," he joked, turning his head to kiss your palm before he leaned into your touch like an adorable puppy. "Or you could kiss me more to drill it in my brain."
You couldn't help but roll your eyes, but gave in to his request anyway. A soft chuckle escaped him as you pressed your lips against his, your arms finding their way on his broad shoulders to pull him close.
"Thank you," you whispered between the kiss, nothing but sheer appreciation laced in your tone.
"Of course, love, anything for my girl," Tom hummed, leaving a couple more loving pecks before pulling away. Glancing at his ongoing project, he added, "It's not quite done yet though."
"Oh, go on then. Don't let me hold you off," you said, smile widening with much enthusiasm. "I'll go grab some breakfast, sit here and ogle at you, Mr. Carpenter," you purred with no shame at all, sliding your hands down his biceps and giving it an admiring squeeze.
Tom chuckled, shaking his head at you with a playful eye roll. Yet he squeezed your waist pointedly, eyeing you with a certain glow in his brown orbs that were now faintly a shade darker. It made you wonder if it was a warning to not be such a distraction or an invitation to add more distractions. Before he could make another move though, your stomach grumbled, his laugh ringing in the air once he heard. With that, you pulled away from his grasp, pecking the corner of his lips one more time before you retreated into the house.
"Can you get me some water please, darling? Thank you!" he called out, you throwing a thumbs up in the air in response. Right as you slid open the backdoor, he spoke again, and you could just hear his smug smirk when he added, "Oh, and grab some tissues for your drool!"
"Don't get too cocky, Holland!
***
You were watering the plants this late afternoon, just coming down from work when you suddenly felt strong arms snaking around your waist, making you jump with a small squeak.
"Goodness, Tom," you breathed out once that familiar scent of his cologne hit your nostrils, your head turning to shoot him a small glare.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he chuckled, placing tender kisses on your cheek and shoulder. "Shouldn't have sneaked in on you like that."
You turned to look at him, inviting his soft lips against yours. A kiss, a silent way of welcoming him home after a whole day filled with busy escapades. You turned back to your task at hand a few moments after.
"I didn't hear you arrive," you said.
Tom snuggled closer, his warmth engulfing you in an instant, never failing to make the butterflies in your stomach flutter. "Yeah, because you've been very busy taking care of your little plant-lings," he murmured against your shoulder. "Look how big they've grown, love. You should be proud of yourself. You did that!" Tom gushed, squeezing you with much enthusiasm, and when you met his eyes, the very same emotion glowed in his brown orbs, grin wide with pride. Your heart could do nothing more but melt at the seams.
"Not just me," you started, turning the hose off before facing Tom fully, wrapping your arms around him with utmost fondness in your eyes. "You helped."
"I just built their little house. Maybe became your assistant and muscle for a bit," he chuckled, hands resting on the small of your back as he nudged the tip of his nose with yours. "But your love and care are what made them grow."
You pouted at his words before closing the distance between you two, your lips on his as a way to tell him how much you appreciate him, in more ways than he could begin to understand. Tom smiled during the kiss, and it was your way of knowing that he did understand, that he felt what you were trying to say but the words couldn't seem to justify.
Once you pulled away, you settled into his embrace, cheek pressed on his chest as you let out a soft breath. Your eyes scanned the display in front of you, a smile tugging at your lips at the wonderful teamwork that you and Tom had managed to conjure. A simple yet beautiful thing, it was. Everything looked complete, like it belonged, his work with their house—which he chose to refer—and your ever-growing plants, a perfect match.
The seedlings were about three months old now, and you couldn't be any prouder of how great things turned out. To see them gradually grow taller with the passing days, with each leaf that would bloom, it was nothing short of rewarding, a certain warmth spreading in your chest, and as Tom had said, the love and care.
"It feels like they're my babies," you muttered. Catching yourself, you pulled away from his chest, looking at him with slight apprehension. "Is that stupid?"
"Never stupid, because in a way, they are," Tom hummed, thumb coming up to smooth over the crease between your brows before his palm cupped your cheek sweetly. "You did bring, or rather, grow them into this world."
There was a moment of silence that hung over you both, just staring at each other with much comfort and love. But you could see that the gears in Tom's head were turning as if he was contemplating something. Yet before you could get the chance to ask him about it, he spoke again,
"You know, watching you through the whole process, to see all the thought and precision you put in making sure that you're taking care of them well and that all their needs a rightly met, the love and care that you poured into your seeds, to then see how big they've grown now, healthy—and dare I say it—happy, it makes me wonder..." Tom trailed off, the smile on his lips gradually turning brighter as he held your gaze. It was faint, but you saw the slight nervousness in his touch as he wrapped both his arms around you securely.
"About what?" you asked.
"About how you'd be the greatest mother to our children someday," he answered, voice soft but honest, eyes set deep into your own as he gave your waist a gentle, loving squeeze.
"Stop," you whined as you quickly hid your face on the crook of his neck, the warmth starting from your cheeks and spreading across the whole expanse of your heart.
In the two and a half years you've been together, the idea was never brought up. There were the teasing jokes from friends, but you and Tom had never sat down and actually spoken about anything regarding the years to come. Yet to hear him say it now, a confirmation that he had been thinking about a future with you in it, it was filling you up with all sorts of emotions.
"What?" Tom chuckled softly, almost shyly before he pried you off of him gently. You met his gaze, swiftly turning teary-eyed when you saw it clear in his brown orbs, how he wasn't at all playing with his words. "I mean it, love. You'd take great care of our babies in our future," he gushed, nothing but sincerity glowing in his eyes. You tilted your head at him with a pout, tears already threatening to spill as you admired the man before you, your man.
The already soft blush on his cheeks grew deeper as Tom nudged his nose against yours. A shy smile played on his lips as he asked, "If you'd want to, of course, you know, with me?"
You couldn't stop the giggle from escaping you. "I do want to, with you, of course," you confirmed, palm cupping his face as you ran your thumb over the red-stained apples of his cheeks. "All of it, in our future," you clarified, the words rolling off your tongue so nicely that it made you want to say it over and over again.
Tom laughed at that, the beautiful, hearty sound stringing along with the breeze as he nodded. You knew he understood completely what you meant. It was written all over his face. With a soft breath, he rested his forehead against yours with a loving glow in his eyes. Your heart skipped a few beats as he leaned in for another kiss, soft, sweet, and one that was interwoven with a sense of promise. It was somewhat a silent way for you both to seal the deal.
You kissed him back with the same intention, with as much undying passion to let him know that you mean it too, a future with him.
These little yet sweet moments with Tom are ones you'll always cherish, the ones that are kept in these rolls of film inside your head. The sweet, mundane memories you can easily put on repeat, easy to tap into. A growing collection, with more being added as your love for him continues to flourish.
But with any normal relationship, it isn't always sunshine and blue skies.
Other times it's rainy, cloudy and gray, storms sometimes inescapable, unpredictable. Just how there are sweet, wholesome, wonderful days, there are also the aching bad days.
This time, nothing could've ever prepared you for the worst.
***
You and Tom have this little thing where you spend the whole night together every Friday if he's home. It's your way of winding down after a busy week. There are certain exceptions of course, when there are more pressing matters at hand. But if that is the case, the one with another agenda will always make sure to give the other a heads up.
But tonight, you received nothing but radio silence from him the whole day.
This week had been one of the worst, and you'd just been trying to make it day by day up to the weekend. You were looking forward to tonight, to finally spend some much-needed time with Tom since he'd been quite busy this week as well. Your time together had been limited to crashing into bed the second the other gets home to hurried kisses in the morning when you slept in for too long.
Now that you were given the opportunity to have each other all to yourselves, but to have him gone for the whole day, all the while hearing absolutely nothing as to where he was, it was adding more to your already heavy heart.
You were sitting on the couch crossed-legged, a blanket covering your lower half as you hugged one of the pillows, gaze set blankly on the TV screen. Tears were already brimming in your eyes when you heard the front door open and then close rather loudly. You took in a shaky breath, blinking rapidly in a poor attempt to compose yourself.
It wasn't full-on dread, but you had no idea how this night was going to end. And with the way Tom dropped his things with such harshness, it could only make your anxiety grow.
"Where were you?" you asked as softly as you could. Yet the shakiness was obvious in your tone and you cursed yourself silently for it.
Barely even glancing your way, Tom went straight towards the kitchen. He came back to the living room with a bottle of beer on hand. His hair was in disarray, face slightly flustered with the deep crease present in between his brows, all signs pointing towards the fact that he wasn't in the best of moods.
"Sorry. I had to go for another round because I needed to be decent in at least one," he casually apologized yet there was no ounce of remorse in his voice whatsoever. That was when you knew he had no clue as to what he missed or how heavy your heart was getting.
His reason stung more than you'd expected it to. You would've been more understanding if he was caught up in something out of his control. But finding out that it was his choice to be gone for the day, it wasn't exactly the best feeling altogether. You know it was far from the truth, but it was making you feel less important to him. And your self-deprecating thoughts after this week had been outright unforgiving.
"Well, you missed it," you breathed out, gesturing towards the screen where the end credit of some classic rom-com was already rolling.
It was a channel you and him found long ago, and they show classic films at the same time every Friday. It became a part of your little thing, just you and him cuddling on the couch, watching the movie with whatever takeaway you were in the mood for that night.
It was still the same now, except, it was only you with the pizza, alone, cold, and untouched.
"Shit, what day is it today?" Tom grumbled, rubbing his palm over his face before finally sparing you a glance. Tiredness was obvious in his eyes, but you couldn't hold his gaze for much longer without the hurt clawing deeper into your chest.
He could always pretend to care, but you know him. With one look in his eyes, you could see how much he wasn't bothered by this as much as you were. It was something forgettable to him, and when it meant a lot to you, especially after one hell of a week, his carelessness was hurting you more than your already beaten heart could handle.
"Friday," you croaked, hugging the pillow tighter before clearing your throat. "Since you like to turn your phone off while playing, I guess you didn't read any of my messages asking if you'd make it or not."
"Sorry."
Maybe it was the awful days that'd been piled up on your shoulders, or the tone of absolute disregard in his voice, but you felt your resolve slowly diminish. You were going to give him the benefit of the doubt, understand him and maybe, give into his reason. But the way he was acting with an attitude fully uncalled for, that option now seemed unattainable.
"I really needed this, I really needed you," you whispered, fingernails digging into the cushion as you gripped it tighter. It was helping in keeping yourself together in a way, but barely. "It's been a horrible week—"
"And I've had a horrible day, what makes you special?" he scoffed, emptying his bottle of beer before placing it with a loud clunk on the coffee table.
More tears gathered in your eyes as you stared at him in shock. Tom saw this, but what hurt most was the immediate way he brushed it off.
He pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes screwed shut before letting out a harsh breath. "Alright, fine. I'll just make it up to you next Friday," he said offhandedly, throwing out an empty promise for the sake of it.
"You really don't see it, do you?" you said, voice strained with hurt.
Tom missing this Friday night wasn't the biggest deal anymore, it was the way he was acting so insolent about the whole situation. It was painful how easily he was disregarding his snide comments as if they weren't hurtful. Add that to him acting like tonight was an easy solution by throwing some option of making it up to you, an option that he wasn't even sincere about, it could only add to the already growing pile that was tying—no, dragging you down.
Tom's nonchalant attitude about the whole thing was making you feel ridiculous about every emotion that was bubbling inside you. As if they weren't valid, as if you weren't drowning and in need of a gasp of air, as if you weren't hanging onto the ledge of the cliff, scared to fall into your demise. And right now with how he was acting, it felt like Tom was simply watching your fingers slip off, slowly, dreadfully, one by one.
"I can't be bothered to do this right now," he grumbled, palm rubbing over his face harshly as he turned to walk away.
You sighed in exasperation, "Do what exactly?"
"I'm so fucking tired. So please just save being a pain in the ass tomorrow," he all but sneered, glare sharp as he cast it in your direction.
Your heart stung, but you willed yourself to keep it together, lips pressed tightly into a thin line to stop them from trembling. With a sharp breath, you stood up to your full height, arms crossed over your chest. You had enough self-respect left to not let him walk all over you when he felt like it, even when he was angry.
"You know what, you're hearing it," you started, gaze holding his steadily in an attempt to stand your ground. "You have no right to treat me like this when I've done nothing to you."
"What do you fucking want from me?" Tom snarled.
No matter how simple, his words were coated with such vulgarity that you couldn't stop the tear that managed to slip. The smallest ounce of strength that remained in you diminished at the spite that poisoned his tone.
You found yourself shrinking under his gaze, voice starting to tremble as you spoke, "Is it too much for me to ask just a bit of support from you when I need it most?" Sniffling, you took a deep breath, knowing that the words probably wouldn't make much sense to him without context. And judging by the way he quickly shut you down when you barely even started to explain, you weren't going to get stomped the second time around. "Or maybe stop acting so cruel and try to understand where I'm coming from with this?"
"I said I was sorry," he retorted as if his apology was anywhere near sincere.
"But you're not, Tom," you breathed out. "You're just saying that to avoid confrontation."
"Oh shit! You caught me!" he laughed sarcastically. "Yes, I just want this to be over with so I can go to sleep, so I'm fucking sorry," he mocked, bowing down tauntingly as if his words didn't bring enough hurt already.
You'd seen Tom frustrated before, extremely angry even, but most of the time, you weren't the reason nor was it aimed at you. If it was, it was never like this, not with too much hatred as if you'd done something so awful that warrants this kind of treatment.
As far as you're concerned, you did absolutely nothing to cause him to suddenly act like this.
"Why are you being such an asshole?" you croaked, bottom lip trembling as your tears ran down your cheeks, one replacing the other quickly with each passing second. You hugged yourself tightly, fingernails digging into your skin but you welcomed it. The sharpness helped ground you in reality, stopping you from succumbing to the damaging thoughts that were making everything much worse.
You feel awful with the sinister twists your head was making, forcedly pointing the arrow towards your direction. It was making it seem that you were in the wrong, that this was your fault, and that you deserved this. It was a fight you were slowly but frightfully losing. But you were at a point of only wishing that Tom would stop since words didn't suffice anymore. It was probably obvious in your eyes, much more all over your face, a look of utter desperation for him to cease fire before more harm can be done.
But he kept going.
"I'm not in the mood right now so get off my fucking back, yeah?" Tom reasoned blatantly, hand running through his hair before glaring at your direction. "Take a hint?"
"Because that excuses your behavior?" you asked, somewhat, pleading for any sort of reason to make it make sense, just something to make you understand why he was acting so hostile towards you.
But Tom merely rolled his eyes with a loud scoff as he started to walk away again.
You didn't know if it was the frustration that was boiling within, or the mere desperation to make him see that his actions weren't easily inexcusable because he was 'not in the mood,' but with a tired, trembling voice, you called out,
"It's not fair for you to treat me like shit just because you lost some stupid game!"
Something in him snapped. You saw it when he immediately stopped in his tracks, his hands balling into fists at his sides as his chest heaved. He turned around swiftly, eyes set on you with a different glow this time. It made your stomach churn, but not in a good way.
"Stupid game?" Tom growled, taking strides until he was close enough that you could practically feel the heat that radiated off of him. "What, am I not allowed to be upset because I lost some stupid game?"
You know that Tom would never lay a hand on you, but with the intense anger that covered his eyes, one that tainted those brown orbs that made him look like he wasn't himself, you found yourself taking a few steps back.
"I didn't say that," you stressed, brows deeply furrowed, palms wiping away your tears harshly before you wrapped your arms around yourself. You were unsure if it was to keep yourself together, or an instinctive attempt of shielding. "What I meant was that it's not fair for you to act like this and aim your anger at me when I've done nothing wrong to you."
"Of course you don't get it," he scoffed, throwing his hands up before he started to pace, and it was obvious in his movements that he was way past the point of listening. "You don't fucking care about golf as much as I do. Fuck! Even calling it a game? A game when it's a fucking sport? You're not even trying to hide just how much you will never fucking understand why I'm upset right now," he snarled, sharply jabbing a finger towards your direction.
"Stop putting words in my mouth, Tom," you said in utter frustration, nails digging into your palms as you held your arms at your sides.
Of course, you understood. You know how passionate he gets with golf, and when things don't turn out in the way that he hoped, he has every right to be upset. It wasn't the first time he came home after an awful round and he was always a bit gloomy whenever he did. But never like this, and never at you.
That was what you didn't understand, him aiming his anger at you when you had nothing to do with his loss. What you didn't understand was what could have possibly made him think that he had the right to take out his frustration on you in such a demeaning way.
But no matter how much you tried to get an explanation, you knew it was already a lost cause. Because when Tom gets hot-headed, it's even more difficult to get through to him.
"I'm just telling you what I'm hearing, Y/N," he fumed through gritted teeth, his face flushed as he shot you a glare. "You're saying it's stupid for me to be upset over a game."
"When did I ever say that Tom?" you tried again anyway, pleading that he would snap out of it for just a second so he could see how much he was hurting you right now. But no, you only saw his eyes grow darker with fury, and before you could even begin to comprehend what was about to happen, Tom turned on his heel as he seethed,
"You know what? I'll make you understand just how it feels to lose something you care about."
"What do you—" you stopped yourself as watched him stomp towards the front door and practically yank his golf club out of his bag. You felt your heartbeat quicken, hands shaking. He didn't even bother giving you a second look as he went straight towards the backdoor.
"Tom!" You followed him as quickly as your trembling feet could muster, vision blurring, lungs gasping. You saw his figure reach your plants and you swore your heart stopped, your head already drawing an atrocious conclusion as to what he was about to do. You begged for your mind to be wrong, desperately hoped for it to be something else, but denial can do nothing more but prolong an imminent pain.
"T-Tom, stop, please!" you cried out and no matter how hard you tried to get your feet to move faster, to get in front of him to stop him, it was all but a second too late the moment he drew his club back. "Tom, no!"
The very first crack that hit your ears made that last finger slip as you fell off the ledge.
Falling deeper and deeper into a dark, bottomless pit, or may it be only your soul as your body remained, standing frozen, unmoving, somewhat lifeless. You were unable to make a single sound as you merely watched in horror as everything got destroyed right before your eyes.
In that moment, you lost hold of yourself.
~
Yet for Tom, all his sensible thoughts were thrown out the window the second he felt his club collide against something with a piercing crack.
Most of what he heard was the constant ringing in his ears, other sounds turning muffled as he took one swing, after another, and another. He was kicking at everything he could, hitting, screaming, his frustration exploding into chaos after a whole day of bottling it in.
Don't take your anger out on the course.
It was faint, but he could hear the sound of something breaking, one after the other. A part of him was saying this wasn't right, that he needed to stop. But it was merely a hushed whisper, overpowered by the angry voice screaming to keep going because it felt good. Tom felt better as the boiling rage inside him flowed through his club and then releasing into a puff of smoke with each swing, each blow he took. His emotions were overriding his judgment that he was unable to even take a breath, take a second to question his actions.
At that moment, Tom simply let that harsh side of him take the reins.
"Now these are stupid!" he barked, swinging with all his strength as he hit one that went toppling over. "What's the fucking point?!"
He stomped at the ground, the feeling of something getting crushed under his shoes somewhat cathartic in a wicked way. "Bloody idiot!" he yelled as he took another swing, club going straight through something fragile, an easy hit with a soft whoosh, but he felt better, lighter once it did so. "Can't aim in the right fucking direction," he growled.
Maybe it was a minute, maybe even five, but Tom wasn't conscious as to how long he'd been trashing the scene. All he recognized was the burning sensation on his skin, heart pumping at a pace that his lungs were having a difficult time keeping up.
"Fucking wind! Just had to land in the bloody sand!"
One, two, four more swings, a slight sting seeping into his palm at how tight he was holding the grip. He could feel the line of sweat that was forming on his crown, the deep crease between his brows never smoothing out, the scowl he wore unwavering.
"Fucking stupid!" Tom screamed at the top of his lungs, swinging one last time, the sound of his club hitting wood echoing into the air.
Then everything stopped, the cold night filled with eerie silence aside from his heavy breathing. He gripped his hair as he screwed his eyes shut. His whole body shook as he took a deep breath. Just as he let out a long sigh, a voice spoke. It was faint that the wind would've easily carried it away, but Tom was aware enough for him to recognize it. Only this time, it was trembling, broken.
"You killed them."
The second Tom opened his eyes and looked at the direction of the voice, he saw nothing but utter betrayal and hurt, drawn with pain-filled tears over your once joyful features.
He felt his anger leave him in a snap, his eyes catching sight of the absolute havoc he caused.
Everything was destroyed.
A mess that it was close to impossible to know which stem, root, or leaves were once together. It was difficult to decipher now which plant was what, the little banners you created now thrown elsewhere, scattered around the floor, on the grass, on the wood, your precious handwriting now covered in dirt. Pots were everywhere, in pieces, halves, broken. Patches to sprinkles of soil now tainted the once fresh grass, more of it covering parts of the wood where the plants used to stand.
Some stems were split in half, others desperately trying to stay in one piece. Most were on the ground with the leaves crushed, a faint indent of the sole of Tom's shoes present in some of them. A few pots remained on the display yet were now toppled over, dirt spilling out, plants completely dismantled, the roots gripping at some of the soil as if they were hanging onto the little bit of life they had left. The whole scene was littered with green leaves, all shredded, torn to pieces.
Tom's gaze fell on his hands. His driver was slightly bent, head covered in dirt, the club lodged tightly into his hold and that was the only and enough indication that this was all his doing.
"Fuck, what have I done?" he breathed out, stumbling back in utter shock. He looked up to search for your eyes only to find you already sprinting back inside the house at full speed. "Y/N, wait!"
He followed you as quickly as he could, dread creeping into his skin as the image of pain, the utter anguish, and grief—on your features, in your eyes—burned itself on his brain. Tom reached your shared bedroom only to find you on the floor, knees to your chest as your heart-wrenching sobs filled his ears.
"Darling," Tom whispered, trying to move closer, but the second you heard his single step, you scrambled back with a broken whimper.
"N-No, no p-lease, s-stop," you trembled, palms pressing over your ears as you shook your head hastily, eyes screwed shut with the endless tears tainting your cheeks. Tom wanted to hold you, to apologize profusely and desperately try to take your pain away as much as he could. But when he took another step, it was like you were hyperaware of his presence since you immediately pushed yourself farther from him, your back hitting the foot of the bed hard as you let out an excruciating sob. "Get away from me! Please, I d-don't want to get hurt anymore, p-please, stop!"
Tom felt his heart shatter at the sound of your frightened voice, his head pounding once he saw the scene before him.
He still had his driver in his hand, his body looming over your trembling form, desperate and broken cries escaping your lips as you hugged yourself as if you were trying to protect yourself. And fuck, you looked absolutely terrified.
Terrified of him.
The golf club tumbled on the floor as Tom fell to his knees with an unsteady breath. He stared at his hands, his mind running at a fast pace just as his heart was.
What have I done?
His gaze landed on you, and to see you in agonizing distress, body shaking in fear, Tom crumbled. Tears blurred his vision, a lump caught in his throat as he struggled to catch his breath.
"D-Darling, I would never—" he croaked, hands limply falling to his sides as he stared at you desperately. "I would never hurt you."
You frantically shook your head as a whimper escaped your lips. He probably wouldn't have heard it if his attention wasn't solely focused on you. Yet he did, he heard it loud and clear, the sound of betrayal, the heartbreak, the absolute pain in your voice,
"But you just did."
Tom felt a tear slip past his eyes because there was nothing but the truth in the words that you spoke.
He hurt you.
He hurt you in one of the most painful ways possible, by hitting where it would leave a dark bruise, one that would take time to truly heal. He hurt you where it would harshly sting, where it would cause so much damage by destroying something you love.
"Y/N, I—"
"P-Please go a-away," you pleaded. Tom felt sharp claws grab his heart in a vice grip, his bottom lip caught between his teeth to stop the sob from escaping him. He didn't want to leave you, he wanted to pull you in his arms and prove to you he meant no harm. But when Tom didn't budge, you didn't miss a second to try again, still trembling, scared, "I just w-want to be left alone, p-please."
Defeated, Tom nodded as he pushed himself off the floor with a shaky breath.
The club felt heavier in his hand when he took it back. It felt familiar, but at the same time, quite foreign. Before it was something that filled him with pride, made him reminisce all the best shots he'd taken with it. But now...it was stained, an object that filled him with dread, a weapon used to cause such heartbreaking destruction.
He turned to you once he stood in his full height, mouth parting to try again but decided against it when he saw you hug yourself tighter. Tom walked out of the room with a deflated sigh, feet dragging against the hardwood floor as he ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. He didn't even notice that you stood up as well, not until the door slammed shut behind him, the sudden sound, making Tom wince. A sharp breath escaped him when he heard the click of the lock, turning around with a deep frown only to be met by the white-painted wood.
"Darling, I'm sorry," Tom croaked, pressing his forehead against the surface in a desperate hope that you'd be able to hear him, voice trembling despite trying his best to seize control of his emotions. But who was he kidding, he'd been god-awful with that the whole night. "I'm so so sorry."
He was met by profound silence, one that he knew was unchanging, and one that Tom rightfully deserved to receive. Uttered apologies after his whole perfidious act were inadequate, no matter how sincere. Tonight, his words were merely speckles of dust compared to his actions beforehand, actions that were huge boulders that already made damaging, lasting indents.
Reaching a standstill, mind blank as to what more he could do, Tom sat on the floor, right beside the doorway. He let go of the club with a shaky breath, head falling in his hands in nothing but shame.
Everything of tonight replayed before his eyelids, but this time, without the anger fogging up his lenses.
That was when Tom saw just how much he fucked things up.
The pained looks you gave him, the utter desperation in your eyes, the pure hurt that strained your voice, they were now starting to haunt Tom as he recalled little by little the unpleasant things he'd done. You were silently begging him to stop, it was so clear in your eyes now that he was watching the rerun. But it was too late because, during the moment, he failed to see past his clouded vision and kept going.
All you did was ask him to understand—hell, you were simply just asking him to be there for you because you needed him. The fact that he wasn't able to give it to you was bad enough, but then he responded with nothing more but snide and horrible comments, actions hostile because what? He had awful rounds? That he was in a bad mood, one that you had absolutely nothing to do with?
What kind of bullshit excuse is that?
"You fucking idiot, Tom," he growled as he threw his head back against the wall, palm running over his face harshly as he tried to keep his tears at a minimum. He felt like he had no right to cry, how dare he cry when he was the one who caused this in the first place?
He'd never seen you so terrified before, so broken, so lost, and the mere fact that it was all because of him, Tom was all the more disgusted to be in his own skin. He felt blatantly ashamed for failing to control his anger, particularly, for aiming his anger at you. He felt mortified to have acted so recklessly, so aggressively all because he let his emotions take the reins. It made him wonder how much worse things could've turned out, how much more damage he could've inflicted if he didn't stop.
Tom felt like a monster, one that could possibly do horrors if left untamed.
He didn't know how long he'd been sitting on the floor, wallowing in regret and his own self-pity, but the next thing he knew, he was scrambling to his feet once he heard the door open again. Yet his whole body ran cold when he saw you wheel out your suitcase.
"Wait, love, let's talk about this," he begged, hands out to reach until you flinched at the sight of him getting near. It hurt, so much, having you fear his touch when you used to have the need to constantly feel it, his lips on yours, his skin warm against your own. Yet now, you wanted nothing to do with, treating him like the plague. But Tom couldn't say he didn't deserve it. Then he noticed how your eyes remained elsewhere, on the floor, on your hands, only going as far as looking at his feet but never directly at him. "Y/N," he called as softly as he could, but to no avail when you only screwed your eyes shut all while taking a few steps back.
"Darling, why won't you look at me?" Tom choked out, the sharp claws digging deeper and deeper into the expanse of his heart, never letting up its grip even in the slightest. His chest tightened and tightened with each grueling second you avoided his eyes. His question was stupid because he already knew exactly why. Hell, he couldn't even look at himself the same after what he'd done, what more in your perspective?
"I-I can't," you sniffled, shaking your head as you kept your gaze cast on the floor, words merely confirming the thoughts he already had in his head. "Not right now, just—I need space."
It was expected, but that didn't mean it hurt any less.
"Are you leaving?" It was another stupid question, Tom mentally cursing himself as if your suitcase wasn't enough proof that you were. But maybe it was him in denial, hoping for it to not be the case despite it being blatantly obvious because he honestly couldn't bear the thought of you leaving without fully collapsing. "For good?" Tom clarified, voice breaking at the end, dread consuming him wholly at the mere thought that he might have just lost the best thing that's ever happened to him.
You shook your head solemnly. "No, I—" you paused, blinking up at the ceiling before you cast your eyes on the ground again, grip on your suitcase tightening. "I just need to take a breather. I'll be back after a week or, or...I-I don't know."
Tom felt a tinge of relief touch his skin, simply at the fact that it wasn't all in jeopardy. But it was only feather-like, an extremely short euphoria compared to the utmost remorse and ache that curled in his bones.
Every time you're stressed, you always remove yourself from the situation, distance yourself from what's causing you trouble. Then you'll go to a place of comfort, one that would bring you calmness after the chaos. It helps you recharge somewhat, because one can only endure so much distress, and it's never good to endure it unceasingly.
It used to be him, your comfort in midst of all the unease, the arms you'd run to when you needed to be held, your sense of calmness after one hectic day, your safe place.
But what now if he was the one you were running away from? What now if he was the one causing you uneasiness? Tom knew that the only option you had left was to find a new place, somewhere without him in the picture. Because if it wasn't already obvious, you didn't feel safe around him anymore, he ruined that by a long shot.
You needed to get away from him.
It hurt to admit, truly, devastatingly, but he'd be blatant lying to himself if he thought otherwise.
There was no point for him in trying to overturn your decision. He'd only cause you more trouble if he did. So, Tom nodded grimly, voice merely above a whisper when he said,
"I'll be right here waiting for you to come home."
With that, Tom stepped aside. It took everything in him to stay upright when you pressed yourself against the opposite wall, making sure that even the smallest of hair that was attached to your skins wouldn't brush against each other. It was as if you were scared that you'd get fatally burnt if you were close enough.
The sound of the wheels moving over the hardwood floor was deafening, and what was ironic was the farther away it got, the more piercing it was in Tom's ears. But nothing could compare to the front door slamming shut, followed by the silence that ringed in the air.
He screwed his eyes shut with a silent whimper, knuckles cracking as his hands tightened into fists. He wanted to run after you, to beg on his knees for you to stay, for the two of you to work things out without putting the painful distance between you both.
But who was he to deny you of finding solace when he already caused you so much distraught?
Tom found himself walking towards the backyard instead, moving sluggishly with his gaze trained on his shoes. It was only when he noticed that they were now dirty, traces of soil found from the sole to the laces. He felt the sharpness in his chest grow, even more so once he finally stood before the disaster he caused.
For the first time tonight, Tom fully let it go.
Sobs racked his body as he fell to the ground, sitting in shame and utmost regret.
It hurt to be reminded of all the things you went through just to get your seeds to grow into the plants you were proud of. It pained Tom to recall the determination you had in making sure they got what they truly needed and more, the glow that you once held when you saw the first sprout that emerged from the soil. It hurt because now, the very plants you cared for had been horribly ruined. Your joyful laughs and giggles, the proud smile you wore were now all distant memories, almost faded, replaced by the grief, the betrayal, and pain that covered your features.
He could only imagine what was going through your head right now. Tom knew you were thinking of the moments where he tried his best to show you all his support, to ease out your worries and doubts in pursuing your newfound hobby. For him to suddenly do a complete 180, it wasn't a reach to assume that you were now struggling to believe which side of him was real. Hell, you heard him call it stupid. He basically confirmed at the top of his lungs what the nagging voices in your head were saying.
You spent months tending them, months of showering them with love, to see them grow wonderfully in a way that filled you with pride, and Tom destroyed it all in a matter of minutes.
All your hard work, all the heart and soul you poured into your plants, the sense of fulfillment you felt as you watched them grow, the utmost pride that filled your bones, the absolute delight, the pure happiness at the mere fact that you were able to grow something, something living—
Tom stole all of that away from you with a simple swing of his golf club.
"Fuck!" he cursed at the night sky, tears streaming down his cheeks only for them to be brashly wiped away with his palm rubbing over his face. Still, they kept coming endlessly. He was frustrated, angry at himself, the guilt eating him whole, his heart aching for what he'd done to you. And there was no other way he could let all his emotions out in the most harmless way possible by crying on the ground until he couldn't.
It was a couple of moments more when Tom finally found himself taking in calm breaths. His eyes stung, chest still tight, but it couldn't even compare to the amount of hurt he caused you so he didn't dare complain.
With a trembling hand, he reached towards the ground, taking what remained of the leaves on his palm, and it was like he was staring right at the replica of your heart.
The only difference?
He was able to hold the torn leaves in his hands, but Tom didn't know if he could ever do the same with your broken heart ever again.
***
"Tom?"
He turned around at the sound of his name, balancing the sack of garden soil on his shoulders so he could see properly.
"Harry, hey," Tom breathed out, nodding curtly at his brother before he continued his way down the path towards the backyard gate by the side of the house.
"Oh, I got it." Harry quickly moved in front of him to open the door.
"Thanks," Tom muttered, already knowing that he was getting an earful once—
"What happened?" Harry asked as he followed him deeper into the backyard, the confusion obvious in his tone once he saw the absolute mess before him. With the sun being at its highest this crisp afternoon, no detail was left out as every single thing was made visible by the glaring rays. "Did a fox come around or something?"
Oh how simple if that was the case.
"No," Tom sighed, crouching down to place the sack on the ground, right beside the new pots he bought, too. He sat on the tiny stool you frequently used, an ache inching in his heart at the memories of you in this very place, smile once bright and proud. He kept his gaze low, scanning over the aftermath of last night before he admitted,
"I destroyed it."
There was silence, one that lasted for a couple of seconds before Harry muttered in utter shock, "You what?"
Everyone was aware of your plants, how proud you were of them, and how it truly brought you such joy. When the twins or any of the lads came over and asked about it—since Tom couldn't stop gushing about how adorable you are with them—you had looked at them in shock for a moment before you brought them out back to show it to them, a shy but excited smile on your face as you explained the process and what each plant needed for them to grow healthy.
All of them were thoroughly impressed, and all of them could feel just how much your plants meant to you. Not to mention, how the happiness and enthusiasm you were exuding was quick to rub off on them that they'd start to feel giddy, too. The most wholesome part was that each of the lads had taken into your footsteps, little by little. Tom couldn't stop his laughter when he saw the few avocado seeds that sat by the twins' kitchen window, and somewhere around in Harrison's and Tuwaine's flat when he came to visit just a couple of days ago.
So if there was anyone else who'd roughly understand how you feel with everything being destroyed, it was them, including Harry.
Tom nodded grimly, lips pressed tightly into a thin line as he ran his fingers through his unruly, unwashed hair. "Yesterday morning—"
"You had an awful round," Harry finished, Tom nodding again as he spared him a glance. The crease on the young lad's brows only deepened and Tom could see the gears turning in his head, because there was no one else who knew better about Tom's short fuse more than his brother. The redhead had seen it in action plenty of times, and a handful of those, he was getting the heat. Tom knew Harry wouldn't take long in putting two and two together, especially when—
"So I went again after lunch," Tom said. Surely enough when he looked at Harry again, there was the look of disappointment and then slowly, the anger inching its way across his face.
"Are you fucking kidding me? You know that doesn't make it anything better, Tom." Harry shook his head at him disapprovingly. "Two rounds in one day?" he repeated, grimace on his face as if it was something so scandalous.
Tom sighed dejectedly, "I know, and I was even more frustrated after because I played even worse than I did in the morning."
On every occasion Tom played a second round, especially with so little leeway in between, nothing ever good came out of it. He'd done it a couple of times, and the only thing he'd gain were missing balls, sore muscles, utmost fatigue, a poorer performance, a shitty mood and a bitter, bitchy attitude. He honestly had no idea why he hadn't learned his lesson yet. It had to take something drastic to happen as a result of his bad habit for him to get the hint by the looks of it.
"You bloody idiot." Harry was full-on pissed now, arms crossed over his chest with a scowl on his face. "You lost your temper on her didn't you?"
Tom nodded in pure shame, trembling fingers coming up in a poor attempt to settle down his hair. "When I got home, she was—fuck, she looked so tired and broken the second I got home and I don't know what came over me but I guess it dampened my mood even more."
Whenever Tom would come home after a bad day, you had always been there so give him some comfort. You'd shower him in love and affection, gently easing off the fire that was raging in him. You'd be so gentle and patient with him, so warm and welcoming, like the calmness after the raging storm.
So when he was met by something else, something of the opposite sense, he reacted bitterly. It was like the negativity and the tension that polluted the atmosphere only fuelled his anger. It was like he was met by a gas over the flame instead of the fire extinguisher he'd always been used to.
That itself just made everything much worse, made him feel that much more of an asshole because you don't owe him anything. You're under no obligation to console him every time he's in a bad mood. And it's fucking unfair for him to expect that every time he comes home all gloomy, even more, if he starts acting like a dickhead.
"I treated her like shit and it escalated into an argument and I just—" Tom breathed deeply as he tried to keep his emotions at the minimum. But he'd been a mess the second he woke up to a cold, quiet, empty house. Even more so when he caught sight of the ramifications of his actions last night, but made clearer by the morning sun. "I lost control. I felt so angry that I needed to let it out, and somehow, I took it out on her plants and fuck," he sobbed much to his control, eyes screwed shut as he pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to ease the throbbing headache that was slowly creeping back on him.
"And she witnessed the whole thing?" Harry wondered with a sense of dread coating his tone. Tom merely responded with a nod. Harry breathed out sharply, and the older lad didn't need to see for him to know that his brother was glaring right at him. "Fucking hell, Tom—"
"I know, I'm a fucking asshole," Tom croaked, utter grief and regret joining his tears as he met Harry's gaze.
"You are," Harry sighed, taking in slow, steady breaths. Tom could see that the frustration was dwindling off of him, but the disappointment was pretty much still there. "And Y/N?"
After attempting to even out his breathing as much as he could, Tom explained, "She's staying at her parents' place for the meantime...said she needed a breather."
Harry nodded with a small frown. "Understandable."
"She was having a tough week as well and this was just the last straw." Tom rubbed his face with his palm in frustration before he met his brother's eyes again. "She got so scared of me, Harry. Every time I got near she'd flinch and it fucking hurt. I would never ever lay a single finger on her, not even when you catch me dead. But she looked at me like I was some monster—and she's right, I am a monster because I destroyed the things she was proud of. I took away what made her so happy, I hurt her so badly," Tom whimpered, harshly wiping away his tears with the back of his hand.
"Hey, none of that," Harry sighed before squatting down beside him, hand on his shoulder and squeezing it reassuringly. "I think she knows you'd never hurt her—" Tom winced, Harry quick to notice as he immediately added, "Physically, I meant. Maybe it was just the initial shock. That's why she reacted the way she did."
Tom nodded solemnly. "I really hope so," he muttered.
"At least now you're aware of how wrong you were for exploding on her and well, this," Harry exhaled as he gestured around the mess. "All the more reason for you to get a hold of that bloody fuse of yours before anything worse happens," he added bluntly as he looked at Tom, nothing but firmness in his tone which was transparently reflected on his face. It may have been a tad harsh but Harry knew that it was what Tom needed to hear rather than letting this slip so easily, which could possibly lead to him never learning his lesson. Tom was grateful for that.
"I'd say you just give her some space for now. Don't try to crowd her and give her time to process things because there's no doubt she's going to be in shock for a while. As for you, take some time for yourself, too. Try to manage your anger and figure out a way for you to do better." Harry shot him a knowing look. "But also remember that Y/N loves you just as much as you love her, I don't think she's going to let this one instance ruin this beautiful thing that you two have. Just don't be an asshole next time, yeah?" he concluded with a soft smile.
"Thanks, Harry. And yeah, I won't be." Tom mirrored his brother's grin—a smaller one, at that, his heart feeling a little lighter at the redhead's words of advice.
"I was going to ask the both of you if you were free to hang out with Sam, Paddy, and I since it's been a while. We were thinking you know, minigolf—"
Tom nodded with a tight-lipped smile, his heart warming up at the wholesome memories with regards to minigolf. It was when you would grow even a deeper bond with his brothers. Friendly competitions erupting to banter, a bet which always resulted in someone getting embarrassed in public, missed shots to then blaming it on the alcohol, and a couple of sabotages to getting revenge. Sometimes it was team ups—usually, it was you and Harry, then Tom and Sam, Paddy serving as the judge to make sure no one cheats, because there had definitely been petty ones that occurred.
No matter what, the day always ends in the winners rubbing it in on the losers' faces, all lovingly of course. Tom had been at the receiving end of it more times than he'd like to admit.
He might be better at golf on the actual course, but when it comes to minigolf, somehow, in some twist of the universe, you always hand his ass right to him. God, the little dance you'd do whenever you get a better score than him made Tom want to lose every single time if it meant he gets to see that, get to see the joy in your eyes.
Golf.
Tom didn't think you'd see it the same after what happened. Hell, he couldn't even look at his clubs without wincing.
You'd been so supportive and understanding with his love for it, but then he went around accusing you of things that were all lies. Fuck, you probably even think how the sport is more important to him than your well-being, which isn't true, at all.
But then again, he couldn't blame you for believing it. After all, he forgot about your Friday routine because he chose to go for another round instead. Tom put his selfish wants and desperate need to preserve his ego first and being there for you second. It was made even worse by the fact that it was a time when you needed him most.
"—But I'm guessing you really want to fix this right away," the young lad finished, a sympathetic smile on his lips as he squeezed Tom's shoulder again.
"Yeah, I really need to," Tom breathed out, eyes scanning the scene before him. "I can't have them looking like this any longer."
"We can help—"
"No, it's alright." Tom placed his hand over Harry's, flashing him a grateful smile. "I made this mess, it's only right for me to take care of it myself."
***
Tom stirred once the bright glare of the sun coated the entire bedroom, a low groan escaping him as he once again forgot to close the curtains the night before. After a stretch, he laid on his back, eyes cast on the ceiling before they landed on the space beside him.
He wished it wasn't empty.
Routinely, he reached for his phone, a small smile playing on his lips as he stared at the photo of you and him. With a soft breath, he entered his code and opened up the first app he'd grown to use every morning now.
Message to The Love of My Life <3:
Good morning, darling.
Forgot to close the curtains...again. I know, I deserve that eye roll. But you're the one who keeps reminding me about it every night before I cuddle with you in bed and well, I could use a little bit of reminding again. I'm kidding, I'll break the habit soon, don't worry. Miss waking up to your beautiful face...but I hope you had a goodnight’s sleep, love. Have a nice breakfast and great meals for today, stay hydrated, treat yourself well, and wish you nothing but the best on the day ahead. And...I'm sorry. I'm sorry for what I've done, for hurting you, for...everything. If I could undo it, I would in a heartbeat. I know it simply doesn't cut it but I'm not going to stop apologising. It's only right. But please, please don't forget that you mean the world to me and that I love you...so much. Looking forward to having you in my arms again, my love.
Your dork, Tom x
It'd been like this these past few weeks, him merely sending you a letter-like text to greet you good morning, giving you a little update on his part, wishing you well, apologizing as much as he could to then reminding you just how much he loves you. Sometimes you responded, sometimes you didn't, but Tom had grown to not expect anything more nor did he try to send another text for the remainder of the day. He didn't want to pester you and invade your sense of peace.
He didn't bother to try calling again after the first few times you'd deliberately declined it. He figured you just didn't want to hear his voice, not yet at least. He understood, especially after all the hurtful things he'd yelled at you, no matter how long ago it may seem.
But oh how much Tom missed hearing your voice, to seeing your lovely smile painted across your beautiful face. He missed the feeling of your touch, tender and slow, hurried and hot, he didn't care which of which, he missed it. He missed being so close to you, your warm skin on his, the taste of your lips lingering on his own, all that is you tangled in everything that is him.
Nevertheless, Tom knew he'd have to be patient, it was the least he could do. After all, there was nobody else to blame for his current predicament other than him.
The last two weeks had been slow for him, stuck in the same old boring routine since he had nothing else better going on.
He'd wake up, have some light breakfast before going for his early run, and then take a hot shower to get rid of his sweat. The rest of the morning consisted of nothing more but him responding to emails, simply keeping busy with work in general. By noon, he'd order lunch—take out most likely—and sit in the living room with the TV playing some random show, just to fill up the silence. After that, if the rain hadn't graced London, he'd go out into the yard to do what was necessary to care for your plants...well, what was left of it.
Sometimes there were weeds that needed to be plucked out, other times he needed to remove the unwanted bugs that were crawling about. Just last week he'd given them some compost to add some nutrition to their newly-changed soil, him finding out that it only needed to be done yearly once he researched to make sure he wasn't overdoing it. Most of the time, they didn’t need anything more but a nice drizzle of water.
Either way, Tom had grown fond of this part of his routine, all the while, deepening the ache in his chest since it made him understand even more. He'd be downright devastated if something bad happened to the plants, even if it had only been a few weeks of him being with their company. What more if it was longer? Let's say, months longer just like how you did?
Tom was about to finish watering for the day when he heard the backdoor slide open. He was expecting it to be Harry, the young lad frequently visiting just to check up on him and whatnot. Sometimes Sam would tag along with a homecooked meal after they'd seen the countless take-out boxes piling up in the bin.
But when he turned around, he immediately froze, blinking rapidly to make sure if what he was seeing was real. He wanted to a hundred percent that his eyes weren't playing tricks on him as a result of the constant yearning his heart was throbbing for, showing him an image of what, or rather who, he was longing for.
Which was you, Tom saw you.
"H-Hey," he stammered, fumbling with the hose to turn off the water. He cleared out his throat as he kept his gaze steady on your figure that was standing by the door. "You're home."
Tom stood still in his spot in surprise and...hesitation. He carefully weighed his next set of actions because as much as he wanted to sprint and pull you into his embrace, he didn't want to scare you away.
He wouldn't dare risk it, especially now that you were back after weeks.
The images of that night were still quite fresh, the way you feared even the slightest sign of him being near. Tom believed that that was still the case, that you were still skeptical about him being near. So imagine his shock when you walked over to him, closer and closer, with no ounce of uncertainty in your movements whatsoever, not even when you were standing right in front of him.
Tom's heart stopped when your arms snaked around his waist, your face buried on the crook of his neck as you let out a soft, satisfied sigh.
He didn't even get a chance to stop the sob that escaped his lips as he oh so gently wrapped his arms around you, turning his head just slightly so that he was able to press a tender kiss on your temple. Tears ran down his cheeks next, body starting to shake as he relished in your warmth, relished in the feeling of you being back in his arms.
Tom missed you, so fucking much.
"Hey," you whispered, slowly pulling away as you met his eyes. A small smile played on your lips, orbs a little glossy as your thumbs reached up to wipe the tears off his cheeks.
God, you're too good to him.
Tom's hand took home on your waist as you turned to the side. There was a faint falter in your breath as your gaze landed on the unbroken pots sitting in the display. "You—" you trailed off, merely gesturing at the plants.
It was the tiniest one, but he knew you caught sight of the one leaf that had just started to grow back. A yellow-green little thing emerging from the short stem that was left. Tom couldn't exactly pinpoint which plant it was, unable to determine it fully until the leaves had grown a bit bigger.
But it was progress, to say the least.
"I tried to salvage what I could," Tom started, trying to keep his voice even as much as he could. But it was difficult now that you were right here. Granted, he'd been away from you longer, and it had always been difficult, but he'd been able to talk to you then. Without hearing your voice, barely even seeing your face, your absence had taken a toll, and Tom couldn't stop himself from getting emotional at the sight of you.
"And from what I've researched, it said that they're going to be alright as long as the roots are good and healthy. It's just going to take a while for them to grow back like how they used to be," he finished as he kept his eyes on you.
Tom did his best and repotted everything. Unfortunately, some weren't salvageable so he ended up throwing them away. His heart broke when he did so, the sight of them in the bin compared to their state before he--it was a hard sight to see. As for the few that he did manage to save, it will still take a while for them to heal and grow fully to how big and healthy they once were.
You simply nodded, gaze lingering on the plants for a few more seconds before you met his eyes again. There were so many emotions swimming in them, and Tom admired the way you held— controlled them. If only he could say the same with himself.
With a small smile, you softly said, "I brought some brownies, made them yesterday." You offered out a hand for him to take, Tom delicately intertwining your fingers together as he looked at you expectantly. "I'll make you some tea to go with it," you added as you guided him back towards the house.
But Tom hesitated, knowing that there were so many words that needed to be said. He squeezed your hand lightly which made you stop in your tracks, your eyes on him curiously with the glint of concern coating them.
"Darling, we should—"
"I know," you cut him off, your free hand cupping his face as you squeezed his hand with the other. "Let's just try and ease into it okay? There's no need to rush. I'm here now."
If Tom had a little bit of control left, he certainly lost it at that.
"I don't deserve you," he whimpered, his body growing weak as he hung his head low, bottom lip caught in between his teeth to stop himself from turning into a bawling mess.
You let out a soft sigh, hand cupping his cheek and silently urging him to look at you. "But you do, Tom," you hummed once he met your eyes again. Your touch was gentle, loving as you wiped away the fresh tears that stained his cheeks. "One bad incident doesn't negate all the good and the best things you've done for me."
All Tom could do was nod, his lips pressed tightly into a thin line to prevent them from trembling. He screwed his eyes shut to stop the tears from falling even more as he rested his forehead against yours.
The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, you being the sweetest angel who'd ever graced this earth as you patiently stood with him. You whispered over and over that it was okay, all the while never failing to wipe away his tears, but also, letting him know that he didn't have to hold it in.
Once Tom had managed to make his shaky breaths into tiny sniffles, you smiled at him sweetly.
"Now, let's get back inside."
***
The tea helped Tom calm down in a way that he managed to get a hold of himself instead of becoming a blubbering mess every few seconds. The lovely brownies you made added to the comfort as well, soft and sweet. Although he wasn't sure if it was entirely the warmth and comfort of the food or yours.
Maybe it was the simple fact that you were sitting right beside him on the living room couch, your head on his shoulder as you watched a rerun of The Great British Bake Off.
His eyes never left you, not even the minute you stepped inside, not even in the kitchen, and not even when you sat down on the couch with him. Tom was simply scared that the second he'd look away...you'd be gone, swiftly taken away from him because things just seemed too good to be true. After all, we aren't meant to keep the things we don't deserve.
"What's wrong?"
He didn't even realize that you noticed him staring, your voice easing him out of his daze. Tom breathed deeply, taking your fingers in his and fiddling with them nervously as he met your concerned eyes.
"I am so sorry," he finally said, in person this time, nothing but utmost sincerity laced in his voice. He held your eyes, never stopping to let you see how much he meant his words. "I know that doesn't even cut a pinch to what I've done, but I'm really, really sorry, Y/N."
You stared at him for a moment, as if you were contemplating the words you wanted to say. Tom waited, never rushing, even if it took you a couple more seconds to say anything at all.
"It's okay," you breathed out, a small but genuine smile on your lips. "They're just plants, it's a bit stupid to be hung up over them."
Tom felt his heart break at your words. It was painful hearing you say that and what hurt most was the fact that you meant it. You didn't say it to be petty nor to douse him in more guilt; you truly believed your own words. And he could only be the most awful person by turning something you loved and adored, something you'd grown to be fond and proud of into something that had been devalued into a mere...just plants.
"No, no, no, it's not stupid," he rushed, shifting in his seat until he was fully facing you. He squeezed your hands, lifting them up to place gentle kisses on your knuckles before he met your eyes. "You and your own hands grew your wonderful plants. You'd grown life with your hands, darling. You worked tirelessly to make them as healthy as possible. You spent months taking care of them, you created your own memories with each leaf that you'd seen sprout," Tom paused when he saw the tears that welled up in your orbs, hands letting go of yours so he could cup your face. "They're a part of you just as how you're a part of them, and I destroyed that. I destroyed what made you happy. I destroyed the things you deeply cared about. You had every single right to be hurt
"What was stupid was me losing my temper over something so small and creating a bigger problem. What was stupid was me taking out my frustration on you when you did absolutely nothing wrong," he continued, his thumb catching the tears that slipped past your eyes. "What was stupid was me hurting you," Tom's voice broke at the end of his sentence, eyes glossing up in both guilt. and the mere fact that you looked at him with sadness and hurt glittering in your orbs in the form of tears.
"Doesn't matter if I had a bad round, or that I was already in a bad mood. I had no right to take it out on you like that, take it out on you in a way that hurt you so much,"
"I shouldn't have pushed you. I should've just kept quiet and let you be," you whispered, bottom lip trembling and Tom's heart ached even more at the sight.
He shook his head. "No, it was only right for you to voice out what you were feeling. You had every right to call me out with the way I acted." There was a slight doubt that flickered in your eyes, so he took your hand in his again, squeezing it reassuringly as he said, "Darling, I mean this, don't you ever stay quiet and let me step all over you just because I'm angry."
"I just don't want to create a bigger mess," you admitted, voice shaking in the slightest bit with how close you were, Tom noticed, along with the hint of doubt.
"But you didn't make it bigger, I did. Looking back on it now, you weren't even screaming back at me," he said sincerely. But Tom saw it, the flicker of fear in your eyes, and it made his stomach drop, made his heart break because it could only mean that you were skeptical about standing your ground now. Fearful to even be near the fire after being burnt badly with the previous encounter. He saw that you'd rather be quiet and get stepped on than choose to stand up for yourself and risk getting caught in the line of fire.
"Y/N...are you scared of me?" Tom asked, dread in his tone with utmost pain and worry in his eyes. "The truth, please."
You hastily shook your head, taking in a deep breath as your eyes fell on your entangled fingers. "No, no, it was just a whole lot of things piling up that week. I was just hanging in there and when you—when it happened, it was a sudden shock. And I was spiraling and everything was happening so fast, and you weren't stopping and I didn't know what to do—" you cut yourself off with a broken whimper. Tom squeezed your hand, a kiss landing on your temple but he stayed quiet, simply waiting for you to finish your part.
"I've never seen you that angry before and I—I guess, maybe a little scared that something like this will happen again, or something even worse," you concluded, finally meeting his eyes with guilt in your own orbs as if you were scared that your words would make him feel worse or cause a negative reaction from him.
But everything you said was part of the consequences of his actions. He wasn't at all expecting things to suddenly go back to how they were after that night. Moving forward, Tom knew he had a lot of work to do. That included earning your trust back, to make you feel at the least bit safe around him again. It was definitely much easier said than done, but Tom will stop at nothing to fix all the things he'd manage to destroy.
"This is not going to happen again," Tom stated firmly, eyes never leaving yours so you could see how he was taking his words seriously. "I promise you, I'll work my hardest to never, ever let something like this happen again."
You tilted your head at him and stayed quiet, squeezing his hand to let him know you heard him. It was a few more seconds when you leaned closer and kissed him instead, always the first thing you do whenever you couldn't find the right words to say.
Tom sobbed softly at the feeling, a warmth spreading in his chest at the familiar taste, one that he'd been deprived of for far too long. His hand landed on the back of your head to keep you steady, close, never wanting to let go. His lungs be damned, he didn't want to pull away. Tom only wanted to relish at the feeling of your lips moving in sync, tender, unhurried, but filled with passion. He wanted to bask in the gratitude, the reassurance, the appreciation, and the utmost love you poured into the kiss.
Unfortunately, you two were merely humans, incapable of going too long without taking a breath.
Once you pulled away, you kept still in your place, remaining close in each other's warmth. Tom was already satisfied with everything, your calm breath fanning over his lips, tips of your noses touching so sweetly. But when you spoke again, his heart grew bigger, softer, and it made him ask what he possibly could've done to deserve someone like you in his life.
"And I'll meet you halfway," you whispered against his lips, fingers delicate against his cheeks as you stared right into his eyes. "Always."
It will take some time for your relationship to heal. Quite possibly, it will never go back to how things were, because gluing together the broken pieces will never bring things back to their original, untainted state.
But at least it will be the turn of a new leaf.
It will need much tender love and care, ample amounts of patience, a constant watering of effort to do better for that new leaf to grow into one that's much stronger, healthier than the last. There will be some rainy days, hopefully, lesser storms, days where the sun isn't shining, covered by dark clouds, so the growth won't be easy.
But Tom will gladly take up the challenge, knowing that in the end, it will bear healthier, beautiful, wonderful fruits in the form of fond moments and a strengthened relationship, all rooted with the ever-growing love that you two have.
And with one look at the beautiful woman he'd been so damn lucky to even have the chance to have her grace his life, there was no doubt in Tom's bones that it will be more than worth it.
All the work and effort, all the tests to measure his patience, when it's you with him, happier at the end of it, all will be worth it.
Always.
.✫*゚・゚。.★.*。・゚♛ *.
thank you for reading, sweets! like, comment, reblog if you enjoyed and lemme know your thoughts! x
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cherrycheridarling · 5 months ago
Text
tic-tac-toe | mcu
marvel cast x actress!reader
warnings: one swear, fluff, no plot
summary: you play aphrodite in the MCU and it's time for the press conference for infinity war. based off of this press conference
wc: 2.7k
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"Tom Hiddleston!" Jeff Goldblum introduced the man who was sitting on your right.
Everyone applauded before Jeff moved onto you, "Y/N Y/L/N!" more applause rang through the room.
"Sebastian Stan!" you looked to your left where Sebastian waved to the crowd as you clapped with everyone else.
"Anthony Mackie!"
After Jeff finished with the introductions, he explained how the panel would work. He would pull a ping pong ball out of a container and it would either have a name or category. The audience would be able to ask a question to that person or a person in that category after Jeff called on them.
As he pulled RDJ's name out of the container, Tom leaned over towards you.
"Does your water taste funny, too?" he whispered making you stifle a laugh.
You nodded, "Kind of like lemon, right?"
He shook his head, "Mine tastes like mint. Can I taste yours?" he held his hand out as you passed him your water bottle. He took a sip and spent a moment analyzing the taste, "Yours does taste like lemon! Why does mine taste different? Here." he passed you his water.
You took a sip and were hit with a strong mint flavour, "Woah. I think they're trying to drug you." you joked making him laugh.
"As I am answering this question, Tom Hiddleston and Y/N Y/L/N are discussing the flavours of the water behind me." Robert exposed you and Tom to the audience making the room burst out into laughter.
"They have fancy water. Mint and lemon." Tom spoke into a mic drawing more laughs. "Sorry. Carry on!"
As Jeff pulled the next name, you adjusted your dress. A white, long sleeve, blazer dress with gold buttons down the middle, the dress ended mid-thigh. The v-neck cut showcased your subtle gold necklace. Black stiletto heels covered your feet.
You unconsciously began bouncing your leg up and down in a fast motion. Sebastian placed a hand on your thigh, stopping your movements, "You're gonna drill a hole through the floor, Y/L/N." he chuckled.
"Sorry." you laughed quietly.
Sebastian pulled out a notepad and pen, "You need a distraction. Tic-tac-toe?" he offered.
You smiled with a nod before making your move.
"You absolutely suck at this." you chuckled as you won the third game in a row.
Sebastian scoffed, "You can't suck at tic-tac-toe."
"And yet, you do." you smirked.
He rolled his eyes playfully before you continued playing.
After two more rounds, your attention was back on Jeff as he pulled a new ping pong ball. "Ooh! You can ask a God or Goddess." Jeff announced, "So, Tom Hiddleston, Chris Hemsworth or Y/N Y/L/N." he reminded the crowd, "Okay, yes, you!" he picked a woman in the front row.
"Hi, I'm Alexis with Forbes. My question is for Y/N." the room applauded as Jeff tossed the ping pong ball at you and you caught it with one hand.
"See, Robert! It's not that hard!" Jeff exclaimed making everyone laugh.
"Screw off, Goldblum! You chucked that shit at my head." Robert joked back. "Sorry, Alexis, go ahead."
"Um, I wanted to ask about Aphrodite's powers. We all know that she is the Goddess of Love and can seduce anyone with her beauty. We see in the trailer a small clip of her seducing men. How many people did you seduce in the film and were there any funny moments filming those scenes that you can share?"
Her question drew a mix of reactions from the cast. Some laughed, some furrowed their eyebrows and others were just confused. You took in the question before opening your mouth to reply, until you remembered that you weren't wearing a body mic. The cast laughed again before Sebastian passed you a mic.
"Sorry. Um, how many people did I seduce in the film? None." you stated drawing more laughs, "How many people did Aphrodite seduce? All of them." you chuckled, "I'm kidding. Although, I'm not sure what I can share because I don't know what's in the trailer." you confessed, "Kevin, Joe, Anthony, what's in the trailer?" you asked them making everyone laugh again.
Kevin picked up a mic, "I believe it's you seducing Spider-Man, Starlord, Drax and Iron Man."
You nodded, "I do have a funny moment that I'm sure Mister Holland will kill me for sharing, but it's too good to not tell." you smiled thinking of the memory.
Tom immediately grabbed a mic, "You wouldn't!" he exclaimed making the audience and cast laugh.
"I would," you retorted, "We were shooting that scene and, as you know, they have to act like they are falling in love with me. Like I'm putting them in a trance. Well, Tom took that a bit too seriously." you paused at the laughter that your sentence caused, "They're all on their knees in front of me, looking at me as if I'm their queen, because I am." you joked, "And then Anthony calls 'cut' and Dave, Chris and RDJ all get up and start chatting, but as I'm turning away, Tom doesn't move. Still on his knees, looking at me as if I hold the world in my hands." the room filled with amused laughs and chuckles as Tom covered his face with his hands.
"No, it was so bad because I just looked like a creep that couldn't stop staring at her!" Tom laughed at himself.
Robert grabbed a mic, "Very true. I was watching and it honestly had me convinced that Y/N had real powers."
"I have to say, I understand the kid's reaction. Y/N's costume for Aphrodite and the way they transform her only enhances how gorgeous she already is." Anthony Mackie spoke up causing the crowd to gush and clap, "I'm pretty sure we all had the same reaction when we first saw her while filming Civil War." he looked around as the cast nodded.
Scarlett picked up a mic, "Yeah. I remember her walking on set in this stunning white dress which made me extremely jealous," she confessed, "Because, one, it's so gorgeous and she looks absolutely amazing in it," the crowd and cast applauded again, "And two, it's made of the softest silk while my suit is leather and spandex!" everyone laughed at her comment.
Benedict picked up his mic, "Although, it wasn't Tom's first time seeing Y/N as Aphrodite. He was in Civil War and still could not contain himself." he teased making the audience and cast laugh again.
Robert spoke again, "Yeah, he did that during the filming of Civil War, too." the room hollered with laughs.
Tom's face was bright red, "I'm just a very committed actor. I really give all of myself to my work." his comment drew more laughs.
"That's why Sebastian despises Tom. It all started when Tom couldn't take his eyes off of Y/N." Chris Hemsworth added making everyone double over in laughter.
"I feel so loved," you held a hand to your heart as the room chuckled, "These are genuinely the best people in the world and I guess you could say I seduced one person during filming." you joked as the crowd continued to laugh, "Sorry, Tom. I'll buy you some juice, don't be mad." Anthony and Benedict laughed loudly. "Thank you for your question!" you thanked the lady as the cast clapped before Jeff picked out the next ping pong ball.
Next was Scarlett. You sat back and silently judged the man who asked about fashion. Scoffing with Sebastian at his question and laughing at Scarlett's sarcastic and witty responses.
Sebastian leaned over again, "I have to piss."
You stifled a laugh at his abrupt confession, "Go to the washroom, then." you nodded your head towards the exit.
"We're not allowed to leave." he frowned.
You chuckled and reached over, patting his thigh with your hand, "Don't piss yourself."
He rolled his eyes playfully before Jeff called out the next name.
"Anthony Mackie!"
"Hi, I'm Tiffany with Times Magazine. With such a star studded cast, do you find it difficult or any obstacles in developing your character with all theses amazing stories being told and struggling for screen time? Like, are there any obstacles or special difficulties or is it all just amazing?"
Before Anthony could answer, Joe Russo picked up his mic, "Are you asking Anthony Mackie if he has a hard time getting attention?" his comment caused the whole room to erupt in laughs.
Anthony nodded slowly as the laughter died down, "Touché, touché. Uh, well, Tiffany, a wise man once said that some men need an hour to make their presence felt and some need thirty seconds." there was an uproar of laughter and hollering at his comment as he dramatically dropped the mic on the table.
"Who are we asking next?" Jeff squinted at the ping pong ball, "Ooh! Back to the Goddess of Love herself, Y/N Y/L/N!" the room applauded for you as Jeff threw the ball to you.
Sebastian intercepted the toss and caught the ball himself with a smug smirk. You rolled your eyes, but smiled as Jeff picked a lady out of the dozens who had raised their hand.
"Hi, I'm Amy with Esquire and I wanted to ask about the relationship between Bucky and Aphrodite. We see in the previous films their awkward tension from their past history. They have a very special romance and their love story is a fan favourite in the Marvel fandom. What was it like building that bond and relationship on screen? And what do you think of the choice to match the two characters together, how did you react when you found out? Did the pairing of the two help build your bond off screen?"
Jeff spoke again, "I said 'one question', that was at least twenty." he teased the lady drawing laughs from the room.
You chuckled and nodded slowly as the laughter died down, "Excellent questions. Umm, I honestly really like the pairing of the two. I think it gives a great dynamic to both characters and reveals sides of them that we never would've seen without their relationship. It's a very 'good girl falling for the bad guy' trope. And if I'm being honest, I've always wanted that." you confessed causing the room to chuckle, "Their relationship is, without a doubt, one of the most complicated ones in the MCU, but I think that's what makes it so loved by the fans since there's not a dull moment between the two. It's nice to see Bucky have a sentimental side, in his own awkward way of course. And you get to see Aphrodite fall for someone who's not a God or a Titan." you turned to Sebastian, "What do you think?"
You offered him the mic, but he didn't take it, letting you hold it up for him, "Yeah, I agree. I never thought Bucky would have a love interest, if I'm being honest. But I'm glad he does because Aphrodite brings out the soft side in him and he brings out the fighter in her. They really balance each other out and Y/N portrays the character in such a unique way, it really brings a whole new fresh persona to Aphrodite and it's amazing having her as a partner on screen." the audience applauded at his words, "When I first found out about Bucky having her as his love interest—"
"—He called me screaming about how hyped he was." Anthony Mackie cut him off making the room laugh. "Anthony! Anthony! Bucky is gonna be with Aphrodite! That's gonna be sick!" Anthony mocked his voice as you were hunched over with laughter.
Sebastian nodded with a smile, "I did. Won't lie, I did. It's a really refreshing relationship and I'm glad that the fans love it as much as I love playing it. Back to you, you haven't talked about the development and our bond." he gave you a lopsided grin.
You chuckled, "I feel like I'm rambling, but yeah. Their development is definitely," you paused, trying to find the right words, "A development?" you settled on drawing more laughter. "Well, as I said, it's very complicated, but awkwardly adorable at times. Since Seb complimented me, I feel obligated to say something nice about him," you joked making them laugh again, "Kidding. He really does play Bucky with such passion and commitment, it's truly inspiring. And working with someone who loves what they do as much as Seb, it definitely motivates you tremendously and yeah. Um, I won't lie, I honestly was dreading working with Seb," you confessed drawing laughs and a gasp from Sebastian.
"Why?!" he exclaimed making you laugh.
You sighed, "Not because I think you're a bad person or anything, but you come off as very intimidating to people who don't know you very well. And I knew nothing about you before filming other than the films you'd already done, so you scared me." your confession caused everyone to laugh loudly.
Sebastian smirked jokingly, "I am extremely frightening. I understand." he shrugged.
You scoffed with a laugh, "I caught you sleeping with a stuffed turtle and whale noises playing." the room roared with laughter again, "That's when I knew you were a big softy."
Sebastian rolled his eyes playfully, "She's joking. I am the toughest man alive." he deepened his voice.
You shook your head with a chuckle, "Sure. Thank you for your questions." the room clapped for you as you set the mic down and relaxed back into your seat.
"Nailed it." Sebastian held a hand out for a high five and you chuckled before hitting your hand against his.
For the rest of the press conference, you sat back and listened to your friends answer questions. Laughed at jokes made and clapped when appropriate. Small tic-tac-toe games went on between you and Sebastian. Your attention was fully on your nails when Tom Hiddleston got called on.
"Hi, I'm Samantha with Daily Mail and I was wondering, since Loki is a very closed off and mysterious character, we never explore the aspect of him having a love interest. So, if you could choose anyone from the MCU for Loki to end up with, who would it be and why?"
You turned to look at Tom as he pondered on the question, crossing his arms and rubbing his chin, "Very good question. Umm, who would I choose for Loki? Let's see," he paused again and looked around the room until his eyes landed on you, "Ah, I'd steal Aphrodite from Bucky." he answered making the room laugh and Sebastian chuckled with a nod.
"Why Aphrodite?" Jeff asked.
Tom chuckled again, "Well, it's Aphrodite." he simply answered drawing more laughs, "They are so different yet similar in so many ways. Loki is never fully evil nor fully good, but I think Aphrodite has the best chance of turning him good. And who wouldn't want to end up with the Goddess of Love?"
The cast nodded understandingly before Chris Pratt grabbed a mic, "If you were to ask any person on this stage that same question, I guarantee the answer would be Aphrodite." the whole cast nodded.
"They're all trying to steal Sebastian's woman." Jeff teased.
Sebastian scoffed jokingly, "They're all jealous." he wrapped an arm around your shoulder.
You chuckled with a shake of your head before Robert spoke up, "Adding onto the conversation. Miss Y/L/N, who would you want Aphrodite to end up with?" his question drew excited reactions from the crowd.
You let out a bark of laughter before looking from Tom to Sebastian, "Hmm, excellent question, Mister Downey." you rubbed your chin, "Stop doing that, Holland." you chuckled as you saw Tom point at himself in the corner of your eye.
He raised his hands in surrender before Anthony Mackie spoke up, "Spidey is five years old, kid." everyone laughed at that.
"I'd have to stick with Bucky. He is her true love." you shrugged as the crowd cheered.
Sebastian smirked from beside you as the men of the cast faked disappointment.
As the panel came to a close, you looked around at the family you were surrounded by. Friends you love more than anything. Hundreds of memories with the most amazing people you'd ever met. Your home.
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loveaffaire · 4 months ago
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Love Language
Pairing: Boyfriend!Tom Holland x reader
Summary: Even though Tom tells you that he loves you all the time, he has several other ways to show you that he loves you—really just Tom being a very loving, caring boyfriend.
Warnings/tags: mention of the pandemic, mention of a surgery, pure fluff, boyfriend!Tom
Word count: 1.6k
A/N: This photo is the whole reason that this fanfic now exists because Tom is giving off strong boyfriend vibes, enjoy🥺
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You stared out of the huge window as you stood in the cold kitchen, swirling the spoon in the cup as your pretty little boyfriend, Tom, walked in the kitchen.
“Baby” he said, “I woke up alone” he complained.
You looked back at him to answer, “I had to use the washroom and then I couldn’t fall asleep so I just got up”
Tom nodded as he walked to where you were standing and wrapped his arms around your waist.
“Why are you swirling the spoon in your milk?”
You let out a soft giggle, “I’m mixing sugar in my milk”
“Oh,” he frowned his eyebrows as he rested his chin on your shoulder, “don’t have too much sugar”
You walked to the kitchen sink to keep the spoon down as you turned around to take a look at Tom, “I’m 23”
“Sugar can affect anyone” he shrugged his shoulders as he opened the refrigerator to take out the ingredients to make pancakes.
“Touché” you said, sitting down on the kitchen counter.
“Did you take your vitamins?” Tom asked, raising his eyebrows at you.
“I forgot” you said and before Tom could scold you, you quickly said, “I’ll take them right now”
You scurried across the kitchen to open the small cupboard to take out your vitamins and gulped them down with the milk.
“I don’t mind reminding you to take them but what if I’m not here some day” Tom shook his head as he waited for you to answer.
“What do you mean by if you’re not here some day?” You stared at him stunned.
“No, no, I don’t mean it like that!” Tom hurried to you as he almost laughed, “I didn’t mean I won’t be here like that, I meant what if I’m at work”
“Oh”
“Yeah, like that,” Tom chuckled.
“You scared me” you frowned, gently hitting his shoulder.
“I worry about your health” Tom whispered as he gave you a small peck, “so don’t forget to take your vitamins, please”
“I promise, I won’t” you mumbled against his lips.
Tom taking care of your health and keeping a check on if you’re taking your vitamins is his way of showing you that he loves you.
•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•
Even though you consider yourself a huge introvert, the lockdown was kind of killing you. It has been a whole year in this lockdown and it was finally getting to you. The tragedies that were happening around the world because of the pandemic was breaking your heart and you thanked the heavens for keeping you and your family safe every time you watched the news.
Tom and you both had work from home now and even though you were thankful for being in the comfort of your home, the chair in your home office was starting to kill you and you desperately wanted to leave the house, even if it was just for a little while.
As you sat in your home office, typing away on your laptop, you huffed. It was so late and you were so tired, your back was killing you and you were pretty sure that your lip was bleeding by now because of biting on it too much.
You heard a knock on the door and then it was slowly pushed open, revealing Tom. He peeked inside of the room, his eyes landing on you as his lips stretched in a small smile.
“Can I come in?” He whispered.
“Yeah” you softly said, you twisted on your chair to face Tom as he approached you with a tea cup.
“I got you tea” he said, carefully putting down the cup on your table so as to not spill any liquid on your work stuff.
Your heart melted as you stared at his tired face. He bent down to give you a quick peck but you cupped his face in your hands before he could pull away. You gave him a chaste kiss, moving to his cheeks, you littered small kisses on his cheekbones.
“You just had a meeting, right?” You asked.
“Yes, I did” Tom nodded, his hands coming up to your shoulders to massage them.
“And instead of relaxing after it, you made me tea?”
Tom smiled against your lips, “I know you’ve been tired, just wanted to take care of ya”
You smiled as you pulled him down further, he was half sitting on your chair now, “if you keep doing that, I won’t be able to leave,” Tom laughed.
“I love you, thank you” you said as you nudged your nose to his, he softly giggled.
“Anything for you, I’ll do anything for you” Tom said sincerely.
You bit your lips as you stared at him lovingly, “stop biting your lip and come to bed when you get over with work” Tom said as he softly pulled at your bottom lip with his thumb.
“I’ll be waiting for you” he said as he got up, slipping out of the room and shutting the door behind.
Tom making you tea even though he’s just as tired as you is his way of showing you that he loves you.
•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•
“Hi baby” Tom gushed when you slipped under the covers.
“Hi” you whispered, laying down on the bed and opening your arms for Tom.
He moved closer to you, hiding his face in the crook of your neck and softly kissing your neck.
“You smell good” you hummed, your face pressed to his soft brown curls.
“I used your shampoo today” he whipped his face up to look into your eyes.
“And also my conditioner,” you said, taking another sniff of his hair.
Tom laughed as he agreed with you. He pressed his face into your chest as his hand snaked under your camisole.
“Tom” you muttered, pulling at his arm to stop him.
You had a kidney stone surgery months ago and that surgery left a pretty big scar on the side of your stomach. Even though it’s been 5 months to it, you still didn’t like how it scarred your body and Tom knew that very well.
You didn’t change your clothes with the lights on anymore and sometimes you wouldn’t even take off your night dress when Tom made love to you.
“What?” Tom huffed.
“Don’t do that” you said as you pulled down your camisole.
“Y/N, I told you, the scar is nothing to be worried about” Tom pulled his body up as he looked up at you.
“It’s ugly” you whispered.
“It’s not-” Tom sat up straight as he held your hand in his huge ones.
“Listen to me, you struggled with something and fought it, the scar shows that you’re brave. You were so strong to go through a wholeass surgery and you didn’t even cry, not even once”
You smiled as you heard Tom ramble, he went on, “hell, do you know I was crying in the waiting room and Harry was laughing at me. He said that if I’m crying about a normal surgery then I’d probably pass out when we’ll have a baby”
“We’ll have a baby?” You asked with your hand on your heart, he was just so cute.
“What- I mean- yeah in the future” you raised your eyebrows at him and Tom’s cheeks flushed red, “but that’s not the point, the point is that-”
Tom sighed as he lifted your camisole and you let him, he gently traced your scar as he bent down to give your scar a soft kiss.
“This scar isn’t ugly, it’s beautiful. Everything about you is beautiful” he praised.
“Okay, please stop” you said as you covered your face with your hands, “I’m gonna start crying”
Tom laughed as he moved up to your face and pressed a kiss to your lips. You hummed in the kiss, content with how the conversation ended up.
Tom kissing your scar and telling you how beautiful you are is his way of showing you that he loves you.
•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•
Tom always had this strong urge to cuddle you in the middle of his sleep so even when he would be in a deep slumber, he would always always always want to hold you as you both slept.
And that was what he was trying to do right now, he switched from his left side to his right side and stretched out his arm to find your body to grab and pull in.
But as he mindlessly felt your side of the bed with his hand, your body was nowhere to be found. He barely opened his eyes to peek, only to see your body almost hanging off at the side of the bed.
You must have moved on the further right side and now you were close to falling off the bed. As Tom realised that you were going to fall, he quickly sat up and scooped your body in his strong arms, pulling you away from the side of the bed.
“Tom” you mumbled in your sleep.
“You were gonna fall off the bed, baby” he mumbled back as he settled you in the middle of the bed.
He pulled the covers over both of your bodies as he wrapped his arms around you to cuddle.
You gently smiled in your half asleep state, “oh”
Tom sighed in happiness as he kissed your shoulder, his body relaxing as sleep took over him again.
Tom saving you from falling off the bed and on your ass in the middle of the night is his way of showing you that he loves you.
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© loveaffaire
2K notes · View notes
blindingdutchy · 12 days ago
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golf groupie | t.holland
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{frat!golf!tom x sorority!reader}
summary: the last thing tom holland needs is to have his massive ego stroked, but when you lose a bet and are forced to play the role of his biggest fan... maybe his cockiness isn't always so bad.
word count: 10,483
warnings: smut! enemies to fuckers. like the tiniest bit of angst/fluff if you squint? alcohol, vague descriptions of golf because i'm bad at it, tom and y/n being insufferable. language. explicit warnings below divide.
18+!!! minors stay away!
here it is, a whole day late because i'm fucking garbage!
warnings: oral (m receiving), fingering (f receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it up, folks. don't be like these two). cocky!tom! praise kink (m receiving).
The atmosphere in the party is thick, palpable even. The air, clouded with smoke and haze from who knows how many substances, no longer feels exciting and electric—it feels suffocating. Discreetly, or as inconspicuously as possible in your drunken state, you wipe the back of your hand across your brow to clear the sweat that has collected there.
“Sometime today would be nice, (Y/N).”
Your brows furrow in frustration, a haughty glare marring the features of your face as you tear your gaze away from the table to face Tom. Tom Holland, also known as the president of the Alpha Psi Omega fraternity chapter at your university, and also known as the bane of your existence. His smirk is equally as heated as your scowl, and you can see it in the way his brown eyes twinkle that he has you exactly where he wants you… sweaty, stressed, and frustrated.
It’s hard to say just how the rivalry between the two of you began, and even harder for you to pinpoint when exactly the ever present feelings of resentment you harbored for the man first blossomed. Some part of you feels as though you’ve always hated him, but the fiery heat that always blossoms in every part of your body in his present isn’t like any distaste you’ve ever felt before. It’s complicated, confusing, and nothing like the way you hated Maggie Harper back in your home town. She’s the only other person you’ve known, without a doubt, that you hated.
Perhaps the tension between you and Tom is due to your mutual competitiveness. As much as it pains you to acknowledge, and as much as everyone else loves to point out, Tom and yourself are like two sides of the same coin. You both strive to be the life of the party, the center of attention, and Tom would do anything to outshine you in any way that he can. You’d do much the same, though.
Your earliest memory of the rivalry between the two of you takes you back to your freshman year, three—nearly four—years prior. You had been auditioning for the spring theater production, in which Tom had already scored the starring role. It had been quite the accomplishment for a freshman, and that same man had singlehandedly crushed your own dreams that day. Oh, how naïve you’d been, so bright eyed and ready to take on the world.
It had come down to just you and one other woman, a senior who’d starred as the leading role in each production for the past two years. Despite the strong chance that you’d be beat out, you were prepared. For weeks you had practiced relentlessly, perfecting your monologues and lines down to the last breath. When it came time to do the final audition—a reading opposite Tom—you swallowed down your nerves and gave the performance of your life.
Penelope, your competition for the part, had delivered a compelling read herself. Even you had found yourself holding back tears at her beautiful performance, but you felt it in your bones that the role was yours. The other cast and the theater director herself had been openly weeping following your performance, and you truly felt as if the chemistry between yourself and Tom was undeniable.
But, then the impossible happened. Penelope had snagged the role, and it wasn’t until later that you found out why. A friend of yours had been given one of the minor roles and had been present for the decision making process. That was how you learned that Tom had been the deciding factor, astonishing the director when he’d chosen Penelope without a moment’s hesitation. You had pretended it didn’t hurt when you’d spotted them hanging all over each other for weeks after that, but it did. He’d chosen her for his own personal motives.
A ping pong ball assaulting your forehead is what finally brings you back to the present, and your hand flings to your face as you gasp in surprise. “Tom, what the fuck?” you hiss, but he only laughs.
“Are you gonna make the shot or not, sweetheart?” he taunts, and you ignore the way the pet name makes you shiver in favor of the way his smirk makes your blood boil, “Scared? Afraid to lose in front of everyone?”
Two red cups remain standing on the long table. One close to Tom’s end, one of the few from the back row that had been alluding you throughout the entire game, and one more on your end. The ball you’ve been holding for the past few minutes is damp and slippery, and you’re not sure if it’s from being repeatedly dunked in beer or if it’s because your hands are sweaty with anxiety. A crowd surrounds you, an amalgamation of Tom’s frat brothers and your own sorority sisters, and for once all eyes being on you doesn’t fill you with pride.
Scoffing, you square your shoulders and widen your stance as you snarl, “You wish, Holland.” His smirk only widens, brown eyes following your every move with an amount of intensity that only causes the sweat on your brown to worsen.
If you miss, then Tom has the opportunity to win it all. You’d been leading by a lone cup nearly the entire game, courtesy of a busty party-girl distracting him during one of his earlier shots, and now the two of you are on equal ground. He’d managed to sink two cups on his last throw—the ball bouncing the beer in one cup to another before you could catch it—and no longer are you feeling quite so confident in yourself.
With a deep breath and an annoying ringing in your ear, you pull your hand back and squint your eyes at his cup. The nearly weightless white ball glides through the air and hits the rim of his cup, your heart stalling in your chest, but he catches it from its spin around the rim before it can hit the beer beneath. Fuck, your stomach twists as you meet his arrogant gaze once more.
“Are you ready to see me win?” he goads once more, and all at once the rage in your belly seems to take over.
Normally, you’d know better than to challenge Tom Holland. The man only ever seems to strengthen in the face of adversity, stepping up to any challenge that comes his way with a level of certainty that makes you nauseous, but the spite on your tongue is impossible to hold back. “Wanna bet?” you snipe, and he puffs his chest with raised brows, “If you miss, then you have to let me shave your head at the sorority raffle next month.”
For a moment, a fraction of a second so fast that you nearly miss it, his smirk morphs into a grimace and his eyes flash with fear. But, Tom is quick to correct himself as the crowd around you both ooh’s and aah’s with excitement. “Fine,” he shrugs, licking his lips with a chuckle that warns you of bad things to come, “but, when I win, you have to come to the state championship next week as my biggest fan.”
“Fine.” you shrug, though internally bile is creeping up your throat at the very idea.
Tom grins, “Fine.”
And then, like something out of a movie, he cocks his arm and throws blindly. The ball sinks into your cup instantly, not even touching the rim, and for a moment you think your knees have given out with the way the floor rocks beneath you. You’re still standing, though, and the floor is creaking wildly under the ravenous crowd jumping on Tom who stares you down as if you’re the only person in the world. You can’t even hear the raucous cheering, that ringing filling your ears until it sounds like white noise, and you can’t look away. Even as the cup is held to your lips and beer is forced down your throat like a fucked up water board, you remain trapped in Tom’s stare.
What have you done?
⁑⁑⁑
There’s not much in the way of entertainment that brings you quite as much joy as getting under Tom Holland’s skin. In the few years that you’ve known him, you’ve come to realize more than just a few things. Firstly, despite his uncanny ability to rise to any challenge and come out on top, Tom’s temper is about as short as they come. Secondly, nobody else seems to be as apt to getting him all hot and bothered as you are.
And, thirdly? Well, thirdly, you get a peculiar amount of joy from watching him squirm. One simple push of his buttons from you, and suddenly Tom is a whole other man—gone is the devilish charm and quick wit, so quickly replaced with fiery scowls and rumbling growls. He’s enticing in that way, exciting even.
Maybe you’re just sadistic, or perhaps just a bit unhinged to relish in his unraveling like you do, but who’s to say? You know, better than anyone, that Tom gets that same sick satisfaction from you. It’s the world’s weirdest game of cat and mouse. Hell, the two of you could probably give Tom the cat and Jerry the mouse a run for their money with your reckless antics.
For example, right now Tom’s jaw is so tense you’re almost convinced you can hear the faintly audible crackle and grind of his teeth over the distant chatter of his fellow golfers. His eyes are dark, so dark you can barely discern the familiar amber twinkle of his molten irises anymore, and they laser focused on you. Or, well, on your outfit.
As much as you love the thrill of having all eyes on you, you have to admit that in this moment… you’re more than satisfied with the intense beam of Tom’s eyes alone. Patiently you wait for him to approach, his steps harsh and calculated stomps against the asphalt of the parking lot, and your smirk only widens at the sight of his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. Oh, he’s pissed, and you are loving it.
“What the fuck are you wearing?” he seethes, accent thickening in his fit of rage, and it only makes you all the happier.
Feigning innocence, you blink at him and flick the hem of your skirt playfully as you say, “What, you don’t like it, Tommy?”
Button Number One: Tom absolutely despises it when you call him Tommy. His jaw ticks, his eyes flash, and your belly twists into gleeful knots at the sight of it. He almost makes it too easy, really, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.
In the distance you can make out the all too pleased faces of his teammates and straggling fraternity brothers. A small group of them remains outside the bus, their eyes trained on the pair of you with amused smirks and raucous laughter. They’re whispering—but you have a pretty good idea as to what they’re talking about.
You wonder briefly if Tom knows his eye is twitching, but his voice is far from a tremor as he demands, “Where’s the stuff I gave you? You lost the bet, (Y/N), and you were supposed to—“
“Oh, calm down, Tom,” you sigh, and bite back a laugh at the way he pinches his nose in utter frustration, “I just made a few… improvements.”
It’s true. You had made a few improvements to the cheap outfit and poster that Tom had given you the night prior, when he’d shown up unannounced to your sorority house un the middle of the night. Just when you’d been about ready to admit defeat, consumed with anxiety and embarrassment over the day that lay ahead of you… Tom had pushed just the right button to get you fired up again.
The door to your room burst open unexpectedly, and you’d barely had time to snap your robe shut before Tom came stalking into the tiny bedroom with a devilish grin and a mischievous twinkle in his eye. If anything, the glimmer had only intensified at the startled gasp you’d let out and the way you clutched your satin robe even tighter to your nude body in astonishment.
In his hands, he carried a plastic sack that rustled loudly and a gruesomely tragic attempt at a poster, two of the corners bent and creased from a lack of care over the flimsy board. You glared at him, snapping, “What are you doing in my room?”
“Right, we have a few things to go over, sweetheart.” Was all he said, that usual cheeky smirk splitting his cheeks as he made himself at home in your room. All you could do was groan as he plopped his still shoe clad feet onto your bed as he flopped onto the mattress, before he continued, “I’ve taken the creative liberty with your shirt, since you so nicely informed me you didn’t give a fuck about it.”
Indignantly, you tried to protest, “I did not say—“
“You said, and I’m quoting here, darling, I don’t give a fuck about the goddamn shirt, Tom! Leave me alone!” Tom pitched his voice higher in an attempt to mock you, the action causing your face to heat up and your lips to curl in a snarl. Nevertheless, he goaded, “Sound familiar? Anyhow, I come bearing gifts.”
It was ridiculous how easily he caused your blood to boil, how easily he made your skin crawl, how easily he made your heart race—wait, scratch that last one. It was just the rage and adrenaline causing heart palpitations, surely. You wondered, sometimes, if he felt all of the weird little things you felt when the two of you went head to head like this. Did he feel as if he were at the peak of a mountain, struggling to breathe and jittery with anticipation of the unknown?
Surely, not. Tom Holland probably felt only resolute hatred for you, if his actions told you anything at all. Though, you did wonder if any other person made his cheeks go red like you seemed to. Did anyone else seem to fluster him so easily?
Tom cleared his throat, bringing you out of your silent reverie as you were presented with the shirt in question. It was small—at least two sizes smaller than what you’d told him. It wasn’t the size that made you bare your teeth in a spiteful hiss, though. No, it was the god awful photograph of himself emblazoned boldly across it. Was that… was that a headshot?
Taking your grimace of disgust in stride, the man grinned and dumped the cheap article onto your floor before rifling through the plastic sack once more to retrieve a skirt. “Can’t forget the golf skirt, of course,” he hummed, looking far too pleased with himself as you groaned at the sight, “I took a guess on the size.”
If the shirt was anything to go off of, you were almost certain it wouldn’t fit. “You’re a little too happy about all of this, Tommy.” You grumbled. At least there was a brief respite of satisfaction for you in seeing the familiar way his eye twitched at the name.
You really weren’t all that sure as to why it bothered him so much, but you didn’t really care either. Nothing was off limits when it came to the two of you. Well, maybe except true public humiliation; the two of you may have gotten a kick out of riling each other up before a crowd, but there were some things that might have gone too far. You hadn’t figured them out, yet, but surely you would eventually.
“Just pleased to see you finally admitting the truth, sweetheart.” Tom cooed.
The truth? Did he mean… “Oh, come off it, Tom.” You scoffed, but he only beamed back at you cheekily, “You wish!”
His eye dropped in a lazy wink, “It’s okay to be honest with yourself, (Y/N). I can’t blame you for falling in love with me—“
“Oh, just get to the point, Tom!” you snapped, ignoring his laughter at the way your temper flared, “Finish your little show so I can go to bed.”
If you had thought that the shirt was bad, it was nothing compared to the sign. Tom showed it off to you as if it were a masterpiece, but you could only compare it to the likes of a six year old’s arts and crafts project. Big block letters spelled out, Go Tom! And somehow, someway, he’d managed to run out of space for the five letters. It was embarrassing, really, how terrible it was.
Tom showed it off to you as if it were a masterpiece, but you could only compare it to the likes of a six year old’s arts and crafts project. Big block letters spelled out, Go Tom! And somehow, someway, he’d managed to run out of space for the five letters. It was embarrassing, really, how terrible it was.
You could deal with the stupid shirt. You could deal with the ugly golf skirt. But that sign? Hell no. There was no way you would be caught dead holding that sign—it brought you discomfort to even keep it in your presence.
Which, was why you’d torn it to shreds the moment Tom had finally dragged himself out of your private space. After a lot of screaming, and a bit of crying, you sat amidst the shreds of the poster and dreaded the day to come. You were meant to follow the university bus to the golf course bright and early the next morning, and for a moment you truly considered just not showing up.
What would he have done? Come and retrieved you from the sorority house? Dragged you to the course kicking and screaming? No, no, Tom wouldn’t have done that. But, you knew that if you didn’t show it would give him all the ammunition he needed to torment you for the foreseeable future. Not showing up would show that he’d finally, truly beat you, and you wouldn’t stand for that.
No, you couldn’t let him beat you again, let him see that he’d truly won and pushed you past your limit. If you wanted to come away from that day with your pride intact, then you would have to show Tom that you could beat him at his own game. And, what better way to do that, than to make him squirm by doing exactly what he’d asked of you?
If Tom Holland wanted a super-fan, then a super-fan he would get.
“You call those improvements?” Tom scoffed, and you shrugged, “I spent money on that shirt, (Y/N), where the hell is it?”
Gone is the t-shirt with the awful photograph of his face. In truth, it never would have seen the light of day even if you had liked it—the fabric was too thin and the fit too tight on your body to be worn in public. Plus, your breasts had stretched his face beyond recognition… on second thought, perhaps that would have been fairly amusing.
Instead, you’re wearing a simple shirt you’d made with the words Go Tommy! Expertly written in perfect sizing across the front. You’d been sure to measure for accuracy. The golf skirt miraculously fits well, and so you at least can say that you’d followed one bit of his instructions. And the sign? Well, you’d taken your own creative liberties (and your sorority sister’s scrapbooking supplies).
A bigger, brighter, better neon poster board is crisply rolled in your hand to be revealed only once you arrive at the golf course. You’d spent far longer than you’d like to admit printing photos from his social media, and a few from your own, to be cut apart and pasted on the board. You couldn’t wait to see the look on his face when he would see the way you’d pasted photos of yourself next to him.
Pouting teasingly, you whine, “It was too small, Tommy. Stretched your face all out and made you look even uglier.”
Button Number Two: insulting his appearance always gets him going. Tom’s cheeks redden and his hands shake as he raises them to his face, pulling at his hair as If he is attempting to keep himself from truly losing his cool. Oh, he really makes it all worth it with his reactions.
The bus honks, and one of his teammates calls out for him to hurry up, and the moment is over. He gives you one last bitter glare over his shoulder as he snarls, “Stick to the deal, (Y/N), or else. You lost the bet, so deal with it.”
“Oh, I’ll deal with it, alright,” you smirk, “don’t you worry, Tommy. I’ll be the best super-fan in the world.”
⁑⁑⁑
Golf is, without a doubt, the most boring sport on the face of the planet. Despite the forced, nearly crazed smile that splits your cheeks and the proud way you tote around the neon-pink poster in your hands, you can barely focus on anything anymore. Your feet hurt from walking the course, your back aches from straining to be sure you’re never out of Tom’s line of sight, and your throat is going raw from the manic cheers you hoot whenever the crowd applauds for Tom.
If the embarrassment on Tom’s face hadn’t been so amusing to see, you would have been far more embarrassed for yourself. It takes everything in you not to cower away from the shameful glares of the unsuspecting victims around you, most of them none the wiser of just why you’re acting the way you are. But, Tom’s cheeks are permanently painted pink, and if the way he chews on his lips tells you anything, he’s positively sweating.
But the thing that really throws you for a loop and leaves you feeling breathless? You can’t seem to drag your eyes away from the man, and not because your little scheme is very clearly working. For once—okay, for once that you’re unable to deny—you’re not watching Tom purely out of malice. Not entirely, anyways.
No, your eyes are practically glued to his form. The obviously toned planes of his body under his ridiculously tight polo and grey pants. Has his ass always been so… defined? Have his arms always looked so strong, so perfect to wrap you up and—
Biting hard on your tongue, you inhale sharply as you realize exactly what is so different about the way Tom makes you feel in comparison to how Maggie Harper did. With Maggie, the disgust and hatred had been clear and blatant in your mind. Sharp, unyielding, unforgiving. But, with Tom? It’s always been a muddied mess of butterflies and hornets in your guts.
Oh, fuck, you think Tom is hot!
You think Tom is hot, and you can’t deny that if there’s anything interesting at all about golf, it’s him. It’s obvious why he’s made it to the state championship, and why the whole school has been buzzing about his practically guaranteed win. He’s good—good enough that even you can tell, and a weird bubble of pride swells in your chest.
He’s hot, he’s definitely going to win, and maybe being his super fan isn’t the most embarrassing thing. After all, you could have come as the loser’s super fan… What the hell is going on with you?
Tom’s eyes meet yours as the crowd claps for him once more, respectfully, and yet you’re silent. All day he’d been avoiding your gaze, but now that you’re quiet? He can tell that something is bothering you, and that little smirk slowly starts to stretch across his perfect, pink—his stupid lips again!
His eyes are twinkling with a certain kind of fire you’ve never seen in them before, and it makes your heart race. Your palms are sweaty, your skin on fire, and your lungs burning. A war is waging in your body at the sight. Does he know? He winks, and you know that he definitely knows.
The rest of the tournament is a blur. Hole after hole, applause after applause, your mind is swimming in the clouds. You’re here, but you’re a million miles away as you struggle to make sense of all of the conflicting thoughts and feelings within you. One thing you’re certain of, is that you definitely don’t like Tom. You think he’s insufferable, and a petty part of you will never forgive him for the Penelope incident, but you also can’t help the way your mouth waters at the obscene ripple of muscle in his biceps each time he swings his club. You can’t help the way your eyes gravitate toward the cling of his polo to his torso, or the strain of his pants around his thighs. You’d be lying if you said you never thought of it before.
It’s pretty undeniable that Tom is attractive, objectively, but never before has it at the forefront of your mind. Maybe that’s what amuses you the most at how sensitive he seems to be when it comes to you insulting his appearance, because you know damn well that Tom Holland knows he is attractive. Or, maybe he just hates the fact that you seem to be the only woman on campus who doesn’t fawn over him.
But, now? Now there’s no denying that you are completely enraptured with his appearance, bordering on drooling over him, and he’s eating it up like a starved man. Your cheers have silenced in favor of clapping, much to the relief of the rest of the audience, and your eyes are constantly meeting his each and every time he looks over at you.
The arrogant quirk of his lips makes your blood boil in more ways than one. It makes you melt like a hormonal teenager, but it also flares that indignant fury within the pit of your belly. You hate him so, so, so much, and you hate the stupid way you want to put your hands on him in a completely non-violent way even more.
You hate the way you aren’t faking it when you cheer over his championship. You hate the way your shouts aren’t forced or teasing, but earnest and full of pride as you applaud him. You hate the way he grins at you and for once doesn’t have a hidden message behind those brown eyes. And, you really, really hate the way you hug him in front of everyone and like the way it feels.
“Wait for me outside the changing rooms.” He whispers for only you to hear, and you really fucking hate the shiver that racks down your body at the way his lips brush the shell of your ear. You especially hate the way you do exactly as he asks, and you don’t hate doing it one bit.
⁑⁑⁑
Waiting for Tom is exactly what you need to get yourself in check. In fact, the longer you wait, the more you feel your annoyance toward the man seep back through your veins—or, maybe that’s just because you’ve been sitting on the concrete for so long your butt has long gone numb. The crowd has dwindled down to practically nothing, and you’re starting to wonder if maybe this was Tom’s plan all along.
How long would you wait for him? How long would you sit, all alone, before you realized that he wasn’t coming and had probably snuck out some back door to laugh his way back to campus on the bus? A hot flare of anger bubbles through you at the thought, and you get up with a bitter scoff that makes your throat ache.
You should have seen it coming. All over again you’re reminded of that day three years in the past, reminded of the shame and embarrassment you had felt because of Tom fucking Holland. The punishment was never about you making a fool of yourself in front of the crowd—like always, Tom’s found yet another way to remind you that you’re a complete sucker for him and he knows it.
Swiping some imaginary dirt from your skirt, you angrily crumple the poster that you’d discarded onto the ground beside you and stuff it into a nearby trash can. Stupid, stupid, stupid! Tom may be an asshole, but at least he isn’t an idiot like you are—
“What did that poster ever do to you?”
Yelping at the sudden sound of Tom’s voice, you snap away from the garbage can you’d been fighting with as if it had electrocuted you. And, there he is, in all his glory. He’s still wearing the polo and pants, and he’s standing just inside the doorway to the changing rooms, and you’re wondering what the hell he’s been doing for the past hour and a half to keep you waiting.
Tom’s eyes are crinkled at the corners as he grins in amusement, appraising the half-hearted way your poster hangs over the top of the trash can, and your tongue is sharp as you hiss, “You sure took your sweet time. Congratulations, idiot, you missed the bus!”
His nostrils flare and he narrows his eyes at you, quirking that ridiculous messy brow of his as he snaps back, “I know, I asked you to wait because I was going to ride back to campus with you, sweetheart.”
There’s a lilt in his tone as he sneers the pet name that’s been coined yours and yours alone, and it only grates at you all the more in this moment. Why does he call you that? Why does he insist on calling you sweet names when his intentions are anything but? You hate him, and you hate that you secretly love the way the name sounds each time it slides off his tongue.
“And what if I don’t want you to, Tommy?” you taunt, hands on your hips and posture wide in defiance, “What if I just leave you here? I’ve already fulfilled my end of the deal, I’ve done my punishment—“
Button Number Three: Tom absolutely hates it when you deny him, and just like that, you watch as his temper begins to come unglued. “You’re a bloody insufferable little witch, you know that?” he grits out, jaw working overtime as he steps up to you, “Just when I thought you were finally going to drop this pathetic little act of yours, you just have to go and remind me that you’ll never change! You’re always going to be a—“
Your hands jump to life before your mind does, and he grunts as you shove him childishly. It’s a weak push, one that barely causes him to stumble, but it’s more than enough to show him that he’s got you exactly where he wants you. His mouth snaps shut and his eyes are trained heatedly onto you as you clench your fists and lock your knees indignantly. “I’m always going to be a what, Tom? A bitch?” There’s no playful fight in your tone this time; you’re pissed, and he can see it.
He loves it. It’s obvious from the way his eyes light up despite the stoic pinch of his brow. In a flash of movement that leaves you dazed and spinning, his hand clamps around your arm and drags you into the darkened changing room. It’s empty, and most of the lights are turned off, and it’s alarmingly quiet.
You’re alone with him, and you’re not sure whether you’re excited or terrified at the thought. The change in lighting from the blinding glare of the sun to the dim, near-darkness of the room has your eyes unfocussed and you blink rapidly to try and clear your vision. “What the hell are you doing, Tom?” you demand, and he laughs. The sound is distant, letting you know that he’s drifted away from you and further into the room.
“Just making sure you don’t leave me stranded, sweetheart.” He teases, and now your eye is twitching.
Following the sound of his voice, you make your way through the darkened rows of wooden lockers. A few times you bang your knees off of poorly placed benches (or, benches you’re still struggling to make out in the dim lighting, rather) and your grunts only make him chuckle in amusement. Your legs are aching and your temper is sufficiently frazzled by the time you find him, but in an instant your vision is sharper than ever and the air is sucked from your lungs.
Tom’s shirt is off, and you’re greeted by the sight of his bare back flexing as he works at the buckle of his belt deliberately. “God, are you really changing with me in here?” you gasp, and he peers at you from over his shoulder with a smirk. “What the hell were you doing all this time?”
He turns to face you and continues with removing his belt, shrugging nonchalantly, “Making you sweat. Have to admit, I expected you’d have left.” You knew it! “So, why’d you wait?”
The button of his pants pops open easily, and your breath hitches as he unzips them without a care. You swallow thickly, eyes glued to the strong hands that curl around the fabric of his pants, and you have to turn your head as he begins to pull them down. “I don’t know.” You mutter, growing hot under his gaze as your ears are trained on the sound of his trousers hitting the floor.
His chuckle is playful and gives you chills. “You don’t know?” Tom muses, “Didn’t want to stick around to congratulate me?”
“No.” you grumble, and you clench your eyes shut in frustration at the weak retort. That’s it? Where the hell has your fire gone? It’s ridiculously to keep your resolve when you know that he’s practically naked, mere feet away from you, and you’re not sure whether hatred is what’s fueled the feud between the two of you for so long.
Is it hatred? Or is it a weird, toxic sort of sexual tension? Does he feel it too?
Tom’s voice is much closer as he hums, “No?” His hand is gentle, but firm, as he grips your chin and turns your head back to face him. You know he can see the way your eyes flicker down to his bare chest for just a moment, and he cocks his head goadingly, “That’s not very nice of you, (Y/N). I almost thought you were enjoying it, what with how hard you were staring at me—were you?”
“No.”
You’re made. The not-so-subtle crack of your voice is a blazing sign screaming that you’re lying, and he catches his lip between his teeth to stifle the laugh the rips through his chest. He’s so close, his hand still holding your chin, and your resolve is in shambles around you.
His tone is husky as he repeats his words from the previous night, “It’s okay to be honest with yourself, (Y/N), we both know you were.”
Hook, line, and sinker, he’s caught you in his trap. You’re not entirely sure who’s the first to move, but your movements are frantic as you meet him in the middle to crush your lips to his, and fuck. His lips are soft, yet hard and unyielding as he bores down on you with just as much force and desperation. Your head is spinning and your lungs feel like they’ve collapsed under the weight of his kiss, and you hate the way you never want it to end.
Lips gliding over lips, teeth clashing, and his grip on your jaw has gone from a tender hold to a bruising squeeze as he holds you in place. You’re panting, gasping out hot breaths into his mouth as he parts his lips and breathes you in. Tom groans as your hands leave your sides to clutch his shoulders, clinging to him out of a fear of your knees giving out.
Your head falls back as he drags his hot and heavy lips away from your mouth, trailing wet and sloppy kisses over your jaw before he’s whispering in your ear, “I want to hear you say it, sweetheart.” Gritting your teeth, you shake your head indignantly and he growls under his breath, “Say it.”
Tom’s still working at your neck, his lips sealing around your tender skin as he sucks hard to leave his mark—a mark you’re certain will not fade for days, regardless of how many frozen spoons you might hold to it in the night. It’s not until his teeth nip at your flesh that you start to truly give in, a pitiful whine escaping you as you dig your fingernails into his shoulders, “Tom—“
He clicks his tongue, moving onto another patch of skin just behind your ear as you still refuse to tell him what he wants. Another harsh suck, one more nip of his teeth, a soothing glide of his silky tongue over bruising skin, and you can’t hold back the moan that rips from the pit of your stomach. You hate the way you can feel his smirk against your ear as he hums approvingly at the sound.
“You’re lying.” He states plainly as he pulls back to look you in the eye, positively glowing from the pliant way you’ve melted into his hold. One hand is gripping your hip firmly, the other having drifted from your jaw to find purchase in the tender space of your ribs just beneath your breast. With each breath that heaves through your chest, you can just barely feel the brush of his thumb along the swell of the fleshy mound, and you hate how much you crave to truly feel it.
Stubbornly, you protest, “I’m not.” You are, though, and he knows it.
All at once he backs away from you, all traces of his touch leaving your steadily heating body, and you have to choke down the whine of protest that threatens to leave you. Tom’s still smirking, and he shrugs whilst raking a hand through his curls that have grown messy in your entanglement, “Alright, then. I guess I read the signs wrong.”
You know damn well what he’s doing, and it’s ridiculous how easily he can snare you in his web. How easily Tom Holland can get you right where he wants you, tangle you up in his trap, and how easily he can bend you to his will. You’re faced with two choices—stick to your stubborn refusal to admit he’s right (as always) and leave this room without ever knowing what could have happened, or tell him what he wants to hear and find out exactly what could happen.
It’s a challenge, an unspoken competition, and that’s what leads you to do it. He’s gloating over your childishly stubborn nature, and you can’t stand it anymore. Your voice is harsh as you snap, “Fine, Tom. I enjoyed it.”
For a moment he looks surprised, but the subtle part of his lips is quickly stretched into a radiant smile. “That’s it?” he taunts, and you growl with a pathetic stomp of your foot. “Come on, sweetheart, you can do better than that.”
“Fine!” your voice raises, “I loved it! I loved watching you, and I wasn’t faking it anymore when I cheered for you, and I meant it when I congratulated you! You were amazing, but you know that, and I was fucking proud—“
Your back slams against the locker behind you, and the loud moan that reverberates through your body at the feeling of his body pressing into you is theatrical. This time his kiss is deliberate, an all-consuming grind of his lips into yours and his hands wander your body freely. He’s pawing at your breast, squeezing the tender flesh harshly, and he’s palming your ass with a harsh grip that has you whining and pushing back into his hand desperately.
But, Tom’s got other plans. Feeling the way you submit to his touch, wordlessly begging for more, he pinches your ass hard enough to make you yelp and rips his lips from yours. His eyes are dark and heady, and his voice is gravelly as he tells you, “I want you to show me.”
Your loud breathing is wavering, the pants of air tremoring as you squeak, “What?”
“Show me,” he repeats, “show me how proud of me you were. Show me how much you enjoyed it, (Y/N). Don’t you think I deserve a proper reward?”
It takes a moment for you to figure out just what he wants, but the subtle press of his hand on your shoulder to nudge you downward fills you in. Timidly, you whisper, “Yes.” And then you’re sinking to your knees in the empty changing room, and you’re thankful he’d taken his pants off so long ago because you’re pretty sure your hands are shaking too hard to have ever taken his belt off.
Your fingers are visibly trembling as you reach toward the band of his briefs, and he laughs arrogantly at the sight, winking at the scowl that mars your features in response. Taking a deep breath, you shake off your nerves and peel the fabric down his legs quickly. That’s all you have to do—this is a challenge. Just another competition, and you’re determined to win.
His length stands at attention, your eyes trailing over the form of his cock as it springs free, and you bite down the smirk that tugs at your lips at the sight. He’s already worked up, pre-cum leaking from his reddened tip, and pride swells in your chest at knowing it’s because of you. So, your suspicions are confirmed, he has felt it too—he has those same muddy feelings that you do.
Tom’s hand curls through your hair, gripping the strands tightly at your prolonged hesitation, and he tugs your head back until you’re looking up at him. “Get on with it.” He warns, and you roll your eyes only to yelp as he yanks your hair roughly. “Don’t do that again, or you’ll regret it.”
It takes everything in you not to do it again. A part of you wants to do it, to test him, to challengehim, just to see what he’d do—but you’re determined to stay on track. The thrill of his hand guiding your head toward his length has you shivering in anticipation, though, and you’re all too eager to part your lips and take him into your mouth.
His tip is heavy on your tongue, the taste of the stray drops of his pre-cum sparking salty and bitter through your mouth, and your hands grip his thighs tightly as you adjust to the weight of him. Tom’s grip on your hair slackens for only a moment, before tightening considerably, and you relish in the quiet groan that spills from his own lips above you. You were determined to reduce him to a blubbering mess, to show him that even when he thought you were giving him exactly what he wanted… you were still the winner.
Your first bob is curious, testing your limit, and your scalp stings from how harshly he pulls at your hair the further your lips travel down his shaft. Pulling back, you hollow your cheeks tightly and flatten your tongue against the ridge beneath his tip, sucking hard. “Fuck, sweetheart,” he hisses, and you take that as your cue.
Your nose digs into the curls at the base of his cock, his tip prying your throat open as you swallow around him and hold him there. You can feel the way his thighs quiver, and your hands squeeze them teasingly. Button Number One: Tom loves it when you take all of him, and you love the way he trembles all for you.
You pull away to breathe, swirling your tongue around his tip and milking each drop of his leaking cock greedily, before pushing forward again. This time his thighs tense, his hips bucking into your mouth, and he moans when you choke around him in surprise. Tears gather in your eyes, and your nose burns as your spit is forced into your sinuses, but you push on despite the desperate urge to recoil.
“Fucking, Christ, (Y/N)!” he cries out as you pick up your pace, his nails scratching your scalp and the other hand coming down to push stray hairs from your face to clear his view. If you’d thought your favorite look on Tom’s face was the familiar clench of his jaw whenever you pissed him off, that was nothing but a distant memory now. Now, now you’re certain that this is your favorite side of Tom. The part of his lips as he pants, the clench of his eyes as he thrusts himself to the very back of your throat once more, and the way his head falls back each time he lets out a noise of ecstasy.
You love it. You love the way it’s you doing that to him, and you love the full-body shivers that consume you as you feed off of his pleasure. Already you can feel your body responding. Your belly is tightening in anticipation, your thighs are clenching, and you want nothing more than to take your hand from his thigh and slip it into your skirt.
But, that’s not your plan. You keep ahold of his legs, peering up at him from under your lashes as you take him down to the hilt once again, squeezing the hard muscle of his thighs as he groans, and you’ve got him right where you want him. You won’t be the one to take the next step; you’re determined to push him to do it himself.
It doesn’t take long, either. The moment your hand leaves his thigh to curl around his shaft, your mouth bobbing in tandem, he practically rips you away from him by your hair. His breathing is labored and you can see the slight tremor in his hands as he takes a step back and breathes, “Enough, that’s enough.”
Wiping the spit from your chin, you coo, “I thought you wanted a proper reward, Tommy?”
His briefs lay abandoned on the floor, and he kicks them away on shaky legs as he grits out, “Take off your shirt.”
“No.”
He sputters, and you blink at him innocently, still sitting on your heels on the floor even though your kneecaps are begging for mercy. “No?” he repeats, and you nod, “So that’s it, then?”
Shrugging, you dismiss, “I guess so, Tommy. You want it off? Come and take it.”
Hook, line, and sinker. His jaw clenches, and in an instant he bounds toward you and heaves you up from the floor. Tom’s hands are frantic and he fumbles to rip your shirt upward, your arms lifting with the motion as he drags the fabric over your head and tosses it away. The air chills your skin, and you can see the way his eyes are drawn to the stiff peaks of your nipples straining against the fabric of your bra.
He doesn’t stop there, though, and you’re holding back a triumphant grin as his hands yank the zipper of your skirt down and shove the fabric off of your hips. His eyes are greedy, blown wide and eager as he drags them over the form of your body, only covered by your scrap of lace thong and bra. The feeling of having all eyes on you is nothing compared to the thrill of having him look at you like this, like you’re his last meal.
Finally, seeing him completely enthralled with the sight of your body, you make the next move. His breath hitches as you bring your hands behind your back to unclasp your bra, letting the straps slide down your arms and the faint sound of the fabric hitting the floor practically echoes in the quiet room. You trail your hands down your sides, hooking your thumbs into the waistband of your thong, and he groans quietly.
The lace ghosts over your thighs and drops to the floor as well, and Tom is paralyzed before you. “Are you just going to stand there, Tommy?” you tease, and his shoulders stiffen.
Button Number Two: Tom absolutely loves it when you call him Tommy, and now you finally understand why it’s always gotten under his skin. He’s slow and purposeful as he steps up to you once again, his eyes gliding over all the plains of your body before finding your own, and you’re breathless at the intensity of his stare. He’s hesitant, almost, as his hand comes to rest on your hip.
“Don’t you want your reward?”
Tom silences you with a kiss, the force of it knocking your head back into the wooden locker behind you as he backs you into it all over again. A dull ache radiates through your skull, but all that you can focus on is the way his hands feel on your bare skin. One large palm drags up your ribs until it cups the swell of your breast, and he squeezes firmly. You gasp quietly, and he slips his tongue between your lips until you’re melting into him.
His fingers are deft and experienced as he toys with your nipple, pinching and rolling the bud between the calloused pads of his thumb and fingertips until it’s stiffened to its limit. “Tell me how much you enjoyed watching me.” He whispers the demand into your lips, and your back arches when he tweaks your sensitive nipple harshly. “Tell me what you liked, what had you staring at me like you wanted to rip my clothes off right on the green.”
You love the arrogant tone of his voice, and the way his cocky smirk feels against your lips as he steals another messy kiss from you. It’s sloppy, and wet, and you can feel the mixture of your saliva coating your chin and cheeks from just how feral your kisses are, and you love it. “Tommy, I—“
You can’t get the words out as he drags a finger through your folds, gathering your wetness and groaning throatily into your ear. “All this for me?” he taunts, treading the lone digit over the hood of your clit with just the faintest amount of pressure, but it’s enough to make you whine, “Tell me, and I’ll give you what you want.”
“I—“ his lips seal around the nipple he’d been rolling between his fingers, and your voice pitches upward as you struggle to speak, “I loved the way you looked in your uniform. I loved the way your shirt was so tight, and I couldn’t stop thinking about what you’d look like without it—fuck, Tommy!”
Tom nips at your breast, scrambling all the thoughts in your head as you throw your head back into the locker again, and his fingers tease your sodden entrance. “Keep going, sweetheart.” He tuts, and you’re putty in his hands.
Breathily, you stammer, “Your arms—I couldn’t stop staring at your arms. The way they looked when you made a long drive, all the muscle straining against your sleeves like they could rip at any second—your hands! Your hands, I wanted to feel you touch me with your glove on!”
He dips one finger into your silken hole, your walls greedily clenching around him and working to draw him in even deeper. “Is that so?” he hums, and you nod pitifully with your eyes blown wide. His brown irises twinkle as he looks up at you, an airy chuckle sending shivers down your spine as he states, “I could get it out, if you’d like.”
For a brief moment you consider it, your mind taking you back to all the fantasies you’d conjured up about the leather article, but then he curls his finger against your spongy walls and you’re crying out, “No! Just, please, fuck me, Tommy!”
The game of cat and mouse continues. You’d gotten a leg up on Tom with his cock down your throat, but now, with his finger working to break you open, he’s back on top. He knows it, too, and you love the way his eyes hungrily devour the desperate plea on your face. Now, you’ve literally got a leg up on him.
His free hand closes around the soft flesh of your thigh, hitching your leg up until it’s curled around his back and hanging from his hip. A second finger slips past your entrance, and he scissors them within you until your struggling to hold yourself up anymore. “Another time, I suppose,” he shrugs, and you’re so consumed with the feeling of his digits pumping within you to take note of his implications that this will not be the only time he has you like this.
Tom’s grip on your thigh is harsh as he squeezes at the supple skin, his lips finding yours again as you writhe against him. The stretch of his fingers curling, scissoring, pumping into you burns delightfully as he picks up his pace. All that you can hear is the roar of blood rushing behind your ears, the messy squelch of your juices echoing through the room, and the sloppy whisper of your lips moving with his. You bite down on his lower lip when he curls his fingers just right, hitting the spot deep within you that sends sparks of pleasure radiating through your body. “Right there, Tommy, please—don’t stop!” you beg, your hips bucking, and he listens.
His cock is pressed into your abdomen, and Tom bites hard on your own lip as he curls his fingers again and again, working hard to take you to the limit. “C’mon, sweetheart, I know you’re close.” He grunts, and your hands are desperate to find purchase in him to keep you from crumbling. One curls into his hair, fisting the chocolate curls roughly, and the other squeezes the bicep that’s still straining to hold your leg up on his hip.
The coil in your belly is white-hot, tightened to an extreme that you’ve never felt before, and you’re greedy for more. Grinding your hips into his palm, pushing his fingers even further within you, you cry out, “Please, I need you—“
His thumb rolls deep circles around your clit, and you’re completely shattered. The coil snaps, your vision exploding into blinding stars, and you nearly topple to the floor as your leg finally gives out. Tom catches you, though, hissing as your nails drag deep welts into his bicep.
All too soon his fingers disappear from where you want—no, need them. You whine at the empty feeling that destroys your mind blowing orgasm, but the whine is quick to morph into a shriek. “Tommy!” you gasp, and he groans as he thrusts his length into your clenched entrance abruptly.
He sheathes himself to the hilt, splitting you open as your walls continue to flutter through the aftershocks of your climax, and his face drops into your shoulder. “You’re so fucking tight.” Tom pants.
Your heel digs into his back as you cling to him, your toes straining to keep you standing on the ground as he draws back and snaps his hips into yours roughly. The sharp cry that tears through your throat makes it burn, your windpipe ragged from the shrill exertion, and he moans deeply. His tip rams into the spongy point his fingers had just abused, and you clench around him in response.
It’s rough, and messy, and your back is definitely going to be bruised from how hard he’s slamming you into the wooden surface behind you, but you don’t care. All you care about is the perfect way his length stretches you, the way his lips suck at your neck mindlessly, and the way it feels when he rolls his hips just right to push as deep within you as he can go. He’s still clutching your thigh, his other hand holding your hips in place, and you wonder if you’re squeezing his arm hard enough to draw blood.
Pulling at his hair, you force his lips back to yours as your eyes roll back in pleasure. At this point you’re pretty sure the lazy, desperate press of your lips together is far from an actual kiss—more just frantic mouthing and heavy panting as you exchange moans into each other’s lungs, but you love it. “You feel so fucking good, Tommy,” you heave out, and he groans loudly as he forces his hips upward in a rough thrust, “I love it! I love the way you fuck me; I want you to make me cum!”
Button Number Three: Tom really, really loves it when you praise him, and you love to do it. His growl Is animalistic as he grips your hip so tightly it hurts, but the pain fades to nothing as he drives his cock into you even faster. You can feel yourself dripping down your thigh, the sound of your juices and the rhythmic slap of skin on skin tearing through the silence in the room, and you love the sound of it. His moans are deep and vibrate through your body, making you rock down into him each time he makes a noise.
“This cunt is mine,” he growls, and you clench your eyes shut as you feel his hand leave your hip to work in between your bodies. His thumb presses harshly on your clit, a choked squeal escaping you, and he demands, “Look at me, (Y/N). I want you to say it. Tell me whose cunt this is—tell me who fucks you like no one else ever could!”
You whine as his thumb remains still over your bud, his thrusts slowing too, and you’re too desperate to keep feeling him to care for how easily you give in to his demands. “Yours! It’s all yours, Tommy, I’m yours! Nobody could ever make me feel this good, nobody but you!” you sob, and you’ve never seen a smirk so pleased as the one that splits his cheeks in that moment. You love it, though.
His thumb rolls over your clit in steady, rhythmic circles, and tingles rip up your spine. Tom’s thrusts pick up their pace again, and you chant his name like a mantra. You can feel him straining, the way his thrusts are spastic and less focused, and you know he’s close. His eyes are clenched, his curls are limp and slick with sweat on his forehead, and you can see his cheeks reddening as he holds his breath to keep from cumming.
Gripping his hair tighter, you whisper, “You win, Tommy.” His eyes snap open, and you repeat, “You fucking win, you were right, please, just make me cum!”
You’ve found the golden ticket. His hips slam into your own one final time, his thumb working your swollen bud with more fury than ever, and the spark in your belly catches. Your entire body seizes as you tip over the edge, your head thrown back and your leg locking around his waist so hard he can’t pull back. He’s still rolling your clit like his life depends on it, even as he shouts your name and his cock twitches within your pulsing walls, and it’s burning you up inside.
The climax that consumes you is nothing like the first. Instead of stars in your eyes, it’s like you’re staring directly into the sun. Your vision whites out, and your hearing distorts into white noise, and your entire body is trembling. Each continued circle over your clit sends another wave of pleasure through your body so intense that you spasm, and you finally have to beg, “Stop, stop! Too much, Tommy, stop!”
His thumb finally stops its assault, and all you can focus on is the feeling of his length pulsing within your walls. A warmth fills you up, and you moan at the sensation despite knowing it was probably a poorly made decision. “Fuck,” Tom pants, chuckling slightly as he drops his head onto your shoulder and finally drops your leg, “I really hope you’re on birth control.”
“Yeah,” you laugh, “I am. Probably should have talked about that before, but… yeah.”
He’s breathing heavily as he laughs too, sheepishly repeating, “Yeah.”
⁑⁑⁑
The car ride back to campus is far from awkward, much to your surprise. You and Tom spend the entire ride discussing his championship, and you pretend to understand what he’s talking about when he goes full golf mode on you. In turn, he listens just as dutifully while you tell him about the upcoming sorority raffle in a few weeks, though you know he probably doesn’t care.
You sing along to the radio, fight over which top 40 song is the best, and you even find yourself dancing as you drive like you do when you’re alone. He dances too, though, so at least you know you have ammunition should he ever decide to speak of your horrible moves in public. You laugh and poke fun at each other, and for once it’s not about making the other mad. It’s just… playful.
But, now as you pull up outside of the fraternity house to drop him off, things are finally starting to come back to reality. Neither one of you can look the other in the eye, and you aren’t entirely sure what to say to him as you finally put the car in park and he grips the door handle. For once, he’s the first to break the silence and tread into uncharted territory, “So…”
“This changes nothing,” you finally say, taking his prolonged silence as a cue for you to speak, “right?”
His brown eyes hold your own for a long moment, and you almost worry you’ve said the wrong thing, before a tiny smirk twitches at his lips just like you’ve always seen, and he nods. “Yeah, right.” He affirms, and opens the door. “But, uh, maybe you could come inside?”
You stare at him in stunned silence, and the mischievous twinkle in his eye never dwindles as he patiently waits for a response. Glancing at the house, filled to the brim with his idiotic fraternity brothers, you ponder over whether to say yes or not. You could say no, and wonder what would have happened if you said yes. Or, you could say yes and find out for yourself.
It’s a challenge, or at least that’s what you tell yourself. Another competition, and you refuse to back down from him. So, you shrug and say, “Sure. I still hate you, though.”
Tom grins, “And I still hate you, sweetheart.”
TAGLIST {non-permanent, fic exclusive}:
@osterfieldshollandgirl @daydreamingchaos713 @itscaminow
special thanks to @peterr-parkourr for being the best hype woman ever. i hope you enjoy this!
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waitimcomingtoo · 29 days ago
Text
Call It What You Want
Pairing: Tom Holland x actress!Reader
Synopsis: Tom accidentally sends you mixed signals during an interview
Masterlist
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“All right. I should get going.” Tom sighed when he saw the clock. “Early morning tomorrow.”
“Oh, really?” You said sarcastically. “I didn’t know.”
“Wow. Some people get number one on the call sheet and don’t know how to act.” Tom teased as he got off the bed.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” You chuckled as you watched him get up.
“Until tomorrow.” He said as he put a hand on your shoulder. He gently pulled you closer and kissed your forehead before getting up. He only got a few steps before he turned around with a strange look on his face.
“Sorry.” He laughed awkwardly. “I don’t know why I just did that.”
“It’s okay.” You shrugged, trying to fight back a smile.
“I just don’t normally…” He trailed off and gestured to his lips, then to your forehead.
“It’s okay.” You repeated. “I don’t know, I liked it.”
“You did?” He asked, eyes lighting up a little.
“Yeah.” You smiled shyly. “It was sweet.”
Tom smiled as well, pleased with the reaction that he got out of you. He put his hand on the back of your head and leaned down to kiss your forehead once again.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, darling.” He said. “Sleep tight.”
“Sleep tighter.” You called after him.
“Nothings tighter than you.” He said, then immediately grimaced.
“I wish I didn’t say that.” He cringed. “Goodnight.”
“Night.”
The next day was the final day of shooting for your movie together. After many months on set, you finally wrapped. The cast and crew exchanged their hugs of goodbye, but not you and Tom. You’re eye contact with Tom as you hugged the head of the makeup department and gave him a wink, letting him know that his goodbye was coming later.
After you said your last goodbyes, you changed out of your costume and went back to your trailer. You had only been in your trailer for a few minutes before you heard a knock on the door. You opened your door and found Tom with his hands behind his back.
“Oh, hi.” You greeted with a smile. “I wasn’t expecting you so soon.”
“I couldn’t wait to see you.” He said as he walked through the door. “And I got you something.”
“You got me something?” You asked as you shut the door.
“Yes, I did.” Tom smiled shyly and pulled a small black box out from behind his back. You looked at it in surprise before looking up at him.
“It’s um, it’s a wrap gift.” He said sheepishly. “For you.”
“Aw, Tommy.” You laughed softly. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”
“I know.” He shrugged. “But you made this experience really special for me. I wanted to get you something to thank you for everything. Your friendship, your talent, all of it. I’m really grateful that I got to know you.”
“Tom.” You whispered, reaching a hand up to brush his cheek with your thumb. He put his hand over yours and held the box forward with his other hand.
“Here. Open it.”
You looked at him fondly before taking the box from him. You opened it it slowly to find a small spider pendant hanging from a dainty silver chain. It had tiny crystals that covered it’s abdomen and back crystals for eyes. You stared at the necklace in awe before looking up at Tom for answers.
“It’s a spider. Because of…well you know.” He laughed timidly. “But there’s more. Turn it over.”
You carefully turned the pendant over and found a small “T” engraved into the back of the spider. You let out a small laugh and rubbed your thumb over his initial.
“T as in Troy?” You asked as you looked up at him.
“Who’s Troy?” He furrowed his eyebrows.
“Sorry.” You shook your head. “Bad joke.”
“I…I wanted you to have my initial to wear.” He continued to explain. “But not in a dog collar, possessive kind of way.”
“What kind of way, then?” You asked him.
“Um,” he blushed a deep red, “in an anywhere you go, take me with you kinda way.”
You stared at the necklace as you absorbed his words into your head. Getting you the necklace was something so simple, yet so thoughtful all at once. The gesture overwhelmed you to know that someone cared about you that much, and that brought tears to your eyes. You looked up from the necklace and stared at Tom, his eyes soft with hope that you liked his gift. Without thinking, you put your free hand on his face and pulled him into a kiss. You felt his eyes widen in surprise before fluttering shut. He leaned into you and hesitantly cupped your face, like he was scared to press to hard and crack you. You suddenly realized what you were doing and pulled away, blinking a few times to regain your composure.
“I’m sorry.” You chuckled awkwardly. “I don’t know why I just did that.”
“It’s, um, it’s okay.” Tom cleared his throat and sheepishly looked away. “I…I don’t mind.”
“I really don’t know why I did that.” You said again. “I just didn’t know how else to show you how much I love you.”
You and Tom were equally shocked by what you had said, and looked at each other in surprise. Tom could tell you felt embarrassed from over sharing, so he cleared his throat again.
“It’s all right, really. I’m just glad you like the necklace.” He smiled a little. “And um, you can kiss me anytime you like.”
You narrowed your eyes at him to see if he was serious, and he seemed to be sincere. You had entered a new territory with Tom by opening this dialogue, and you didn’t want to stop.
“I was just thinking before.” You began. “Now that we wrapped, we don’t have an excuse to kiss each other anymore.”
“I can think of a pretty good excuse.” Tom shrugged as he turned you around. “One that covers all our bases.”
“What’s that?” You asked over your shoulder while he fastened the necklace around your neck.
“If you were my girlfriend, we wouldn’t need any excuses.” He whispered in your ear before kissing your shoulder.
“Tom.” You sighed and turned around with a frown.
“What’s wrong?” His face fell.
“You’re getting on a plane in tomorrow to film in Berlin for four weeks.” You frowned and rested your hands on his chest. “As much as I want to be with you, I don’t want to start this until we’re ready.”
“I am ready.” He insisted. “I’ve been ready for you all my life.”
“But you’re leaving.” You said softly. “And as soon as you come back, I leave to film in Toronto.”
“I guess time isn’t on our side.” He smiled sadly at you.
“No, it’s not.”
Tom nodded and hung his head in shame. You knew the conversation had hurt him, and it pained you to see him so upset. You put your hands on his face and tilted it up so you could look at him.
“If we’re going to do this, I want us to do it right.” You told him. “I don’t want to jeopardize our relationship by starting off with long distance. This is too important to me to risk messing it up.”
“It’s important to me too.” He said softly.
“So we’ll wait.” You decided. “As soon as our schedules line up, I’m yours.”
“All right.” Tom sighed in relief. “You’re right. We should hold off until we can do this right. I just can’t wait for the day I can finally call you mine. I’m gonna miss you so much until I see you again.”
“Hey, we still have tonight, don’t we?” You raised your eyebrows.
“We do.” Tom followed where you were going. “We do have tonight.”
A few months later, you and Tom met up once again for the press tour of your movie. When you got the text that he had arrived at the airport, your heart skipped a beat. The minutes went by impossibly slow as your private plane touched down now that you knew he was waiting for you once you landed. As soon as you had the go ahead from the pilot, you grabbed your bags and raced off the plane. Tom was standing on the landing with a huge sigh that read “welcome home”. You teared up a little when you saw it before descending the planes steps.
“Tom!” You screamed as you ran off the plane. You didn’t stop running until you reached him and immediately threw your arms around him. You wrapped your legs around his torso and hugged him as tightly as you could. His heartbeat was palpable through his shirt as he squeezed you just as tight.
“I missed you so much. I really want to kiss you right now.” He mumbled in your ear.
“So do it.” You laughed as you pulled away. Toms eyes lit up with excitement before he pulled you into a kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him as close as possible while he did the same. When you pulled apart, you stood in comfortable silence for a minute as you rested your foreheads together.
“You look as beautiful as ever. And you’re wearing my necklace.” He grinned when he saw the spider around your neck.
“I haven’t taken it off since the day you gave it to me. So you’re with me always.” You said as you touched the pendant. “Just like you wanted.”
Tom sighed happily from hearing this before leaning down to kiss you again. He could barely kiss you from how hard he was smiling. You laughed against each other’s lips, still getting used to the foreign feeling.
“When can we talk?” He asked eagerly. “About us?”
“We’ll talk tonight.” You told him. “We have a long day of interviews to get through first.”
“Tonight, then.” He nodded happily. He went to walk away, but spun around and held up a finger.
“One more. Please.” He begged. “I’ve been so deprived.”
You shook your head at his antics and pulled him by the hand into another kiss. He reached down to pick you up so you could wrap your legs around his waist again.
“Oh my God.” He groaned against your lips. “Why didn’t we do this sooner?”
“Because we’re stupid.” You shrugged. “And technically, we haven’t done this yet. We’re waiting to talk tonight, remember? Since you can’t keep a secret, we’re not officially together until we talk tonight.”
“Okay, fine.” He rolled his eyes. “But what do we do if the journalists ask about our relationship?”
“We lie.” You decided. “I mean, technically it’s not a lie. Technically, we’re not together yet.”
“I know, I know.” He playfully rolled his eyes. “Not until tonight. That’s fine. I can lie for a few hours.”
“That’s the spirit.” You chuckled. “We’ll just lie.”
So you did. All day, every time you were asked about the nature of your relationship, you lied. Since Tom didn’t trust himself, he let you do all the talking. In interview after interview, he sat there as you denied your relationship claimed to just be friends. By the sixth time he heard you say it, he wasn’t okay with it anymore. By the tenth, it was seriously weighing him down. It really hurt his feelings to hear you call him your friend after everything that had happened between you. Each time you said you were nothing more than friends, hes shot daggers at your necklace. Even with his initial hanging from your neck, you were still reducing him to nothing but a friend.
And he was sick of it.
“Nice to meet you both.” The final journalist of the day greeted you. “I love the necklace, Y/n.”
“Thank you. It’s from Tom.” You smiled at Tom, but his mind was somewhere else. You looked over at him every now and then during the interview, and he was always looking at the ground.
“Your love story is really the backbone of this movie.” The journalist began. “Since you two play such a convincing couple, you’ve left a lot of people wondering what your relationship is like in real life. What do you have to say to all the dating rumors?”
“I find them really annoying, honestly.” Tom said, catching you by surprise. “I hate that people assume we’re together just because we’re costars. We’ve both said so many times that we’re not a couple. It’s getting quite irritating to constantly dispel the rumors.”
Your jaw dropped a little but you quickly composed yourself. There was disgust in his tone, as if he was genuinely offended by the rumors.
“Is that the craziest rumor you’ve heard about yourself?” The journalist asked.
“One of them. It’s just very annoying. I don’t know.” Tom shrugged. “Obviously I’m not dating her. I really wish people would stop saying I am. I’m not. I’m just not.”
You looked to the side as your fingertips found the pendant around your neck. The juxtaposition of hearing him to say that after hearing him beg for one more kiss earlier that day made you feel awful inside. You desperately wanted to get away from Tom and the camera and just be alone.
“And you, Y/n? How do you feel about the rumors?”
“What he said.” You said through a tight smile. Tom heard the sadness of your tone and curiously looked over at you. When he saw you looking away, it occurred to him that he had never gotten a chance to explain to you why he was upset. To you, his answer probably seemed like a senseless attack.
“So neither of you are too thrilled by the rumors, I take it.” The journalist chuckled.
“Well, it’s like Tom said.” You nodded. “I’m sure it must be incredibly irritating to have people think you’re dating me. What an ugly rumor to spread.”
Tom knew he was definitely in trouble now. You were visibly upset with how he answered the question, and he could not move on before he set things right.
“Darling-“
“All though, I’ve heard worse rumors.” You cut him off and quickly changed the subject. “I once read a headline that I was missing an arm. Not sure how that started. Anyways. Could we please move on?”
“Surely.” The journalist nodded. “So, what was your favorite costume that you got to wear?”
Just like that, you moved the conversation along. Tom stayed quiet, trying his best to make eye contact with you. You never looked his way, and Tom began to worry about just how much damage he had done.
As soon as your mic was taken off of you, you left your chair and walked out of the interview. The heavy sound of your footsteps let Tom know you were angry as he ran to catch up with you, but you slammed your dressing room door before he could get to you. He sighed and cursed himself for his stupidity before knocking on your door.
“Hey.” He smiled awkwardly when you opened it. “So, about that last interview.”
“Don’t worry about it.” You said flatly.
“Darling.” He sighed. “Please. I can tell that you’re upset.”
“I’m not upset.” You shrugged. “I’m just a little irritated.”
“I’m sorry.” He winced when you threw his words back at him. “I am. I didn’t mean what I said back there. It came out all wrong.”
“What’s the deal, Tom? When we we’re alone, you’re giving me necklaces with your initial and kissing me. But when we were on camera, you made it seem like dating me was the meanest, nastiest rumor someone could spread about you. You acted like you were offended that someone would think you were my boyfriend. You’re sending incredibly mixed signals. How do you think that makes me feel?”
“I don’t know what came over me.” He shook his head shamefully. “But hearing you say over and over again that we were “just friends” was killing me. It felt like a giant slap in the face after we finally admitted how we felt about each other. I’ve been thinking about you every single day since we last saw each other. And then I had to sit there all day and hear you call me your friend. By the time the last journalist asked me, I just snapped. It had nothing to do with you. It was all me.”
“We agreed to tell them we were just friends.” You reminded him. “We decided that together this morning. And not for nothing, we are just friends. We never said we were more.”
“But we are more.” He said quietly.
“After the way you behaved today, I’m not so sure I want to be.” You admitted. Toms face collapsed as his eyes fell to your necklace.
“But…you said you’d be mine.” He tried to process what you were saying. “Once our schedules…you said-“
“That was before I knew you could make me feel like this.” You cut him off as tears welled in your eyes. You looked down at your necklace suddenly and touched the pendant.
“I just need some time to think.” You decided. “And I think you do too. The way you acted in that interview makes me feel like you don’t want to be with me. When you figure out what you want, we can talk. But right now, I need some space.”
Tom was speechless as you reached behind your head and unclasped your necklace. You took his hand and opened it before dropping the necklace into his palm.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” You said quietly before shutting your dressing room door. Tom slowly closed his fingers around the necklace as a single tear rolled down his cheek. He had messed up, and now he had to find a way to prove to that he wouldn’t hurt you again.
The next day, you and Tom had to be up early for Good Morning America. You didn’t say a word to each other as you sat in your chairs, getting your makeup touched up. Tom knew exactly what he needed to do, he just needed an opportunity to do it.
“We’re live in 4,3,2,1….”
“Welcome to Good Morning America.” The host of the show greeted. “I’m here with Tom Holland and Y/n L/n who have a movie coming out in just a few weeks. Can we ask you some questions?”
“Of course.” You smiled.
“Before we get started, I want to remind you both that this is live. So Tom, if you spoil anything, we can’t help you out.” The host joked.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Tom laughed and tapped the side of his head.
“So, I’m sure you’ve been asking this a million times, but I have to know. Is your relationship off screen anything like the relationship we saw on screen?”
The tense topic was brought up once again, but this time, Tom was ready.
“Our relationship-“
“-is the most rewarding relationship I’ve ever had.” Tom cut you off. You looked at him in surprise, but he looked like he knew exactly what he was doing.
“I mean it. Y/n started off as my best friend and somehow, I got lucky enough to become more. I love her so much. Like seriously, so much.” He emphasized. “It hurts sometimes from how badly I want or hold her hand. I mean, even now, I’ve been keeping my knee against hers just to touch her. It’s like I always have to be touching her or near her or else I can’t think. She’s my best mate in the whole world. I’m really lucky. So, I guess it is like our relationship on screen. Except, I don’t think the way I feel for her could be put into words. You couldn’t find it in a script. It’s the most complex yet simple thing in the world. I just love her. I just do.”
When he was finished speaking, he looked over at you with a proud smile. Your jaw dropped a little, this time with admiration for what he has said.
“That was lovely, Tom.” The host smiled. “And Y/n, how do you feel?”
You reached over to hold Toms hand and gave it a squeeze, letting him know that you had forgiven him for yesterday. You shared an understanding smile before giving your answer.
“What he said.”
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449 · 2 days ago
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ships in the night, a series | one.
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summary ↦ europe always sounds nice when you’re going through an existential crisis. but when fate has you running into the same handsome (and slightly annoying) stranger over and over again, you get more out of your trip than you ever bargained for.
pairing ↦ golfer?tom?? x female reader
word count ↦ 1k
chapter warnings ↦ some swearing, grammar trainwreck, possibly an inaccurate french translation
a/n ↦ here we are lol my first long form fic so please don’t yell at me!! this is not based on ‘before sunrise’ but it lowkey kinda turned out to be? aaand technically it is golfer!tom but that detail isn’t really important to the story (💔), more so the fact that he isn’t famous! if you hate cliches then this is definitely not the story for you. anyway! hope you enjoy <3
» series masterlist «
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the first time you run into tom, it’s right before golden hour hits on a mid-may evening. you can't remember the exact date; but you do remember that it happened in a cramped travel bookstore right off of pont d'arcole.
you’d decided to hit pause on college for a semester. it wasn’t out of the blue – you always knew you would come to france at some point, so you’d been saving up for some time now. it just happened sooner rather than later.
the last few months had served as the breaking point. the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back. burnt out from the expectations, stress, and the constant, nagging feeling that you had to have your life perfectly planned out, you did what you always did best: you ran. you dropped everything and one week later, you were in the city of lights. or love? maybe both.
the single silver lining in your spiral had been, ironically, the timing of it all. it was just before the tourists swarmed through for the summer, the weather was amicable, and you’d been staying with your best friend for the past few weeks, since she was here to study abroad for a semester.
right now, you're leaning against a well-worn bookshelf, engrossed in the pools of glimmering images tucked between cream pages. you're far too comfortable to notice the way your fingers slip behind the paper, instinctively indulging yourself in an action you know you shouldn't do.
“y’fold it, y’buy it.”
the gruff english accent triggers your body to seize up for a second before your eyes locate the source of the voice.
and that’s when you see him: a handsome, harmless-looking brunette standing by the bookshelf opposite you, just a few steps away. not exactly the kind of person you’d associate such a voice with. he has on a pair of loose-fitting jeans and a well-worn linen shirt that's tinged a subtle shade of pink, with the sleeves haphazardly rolled up to wrap around perfectly tanned forearms.
did he work here? how did he know you spoke english? has he been there this whole time? more importantly, how did you not notice him earlier??
you blink, snapping yourself out of the way your mind had practically just shorted itself over seeing a cute guy. then you're reminded of the comment that started it all in the first place, and your gaze drifts back to the open travel book in front of you. you’d been so stuck in your own headspace that you didn’t even realize you’d dog eared a page with photos of a place called le rocher.
mortification quickly sinks into your skin as the situation finally clicks.
“oh! shoot, fuck, i’m so sorry,” you mutter, fidgeting with the book as you try to undo the fold. but it’s too late. the mark won’t disappear. “it’s a habit of mine that i can’t seem to kick and i just got so into the book that i didn’t even – fuck - here, actually, how much is it? i’ll go pay at the counter right now.”
you close the book and tuck it under your arm, now on a mission to retrieve a couple crumpled euros from your purse.
the stranger’s book closes shut, and he looks just as startled as you are as he watches you fumble through your bag for your wallet.
“wait — no, no! you're good. or i mean, 'cause i don’t… actually work here.” the same english accent reaches your ears, but the voice is apologetic this time, a little higher, and much, much softer.
you take your attention away from your treasure hunt with a slight raise of your brow. only then do you notice the lifeless backpack tossed on the floor by his feet, a couple books stacked next to it and one more clutched in his right hand.
“i’m sorry. i didn’t think you’d react like that,” the boy begins, looking a little sheepish now as he awkwardly scratches the nape of his neck. “it’s just… i don’t remember the last time i’ve seen anyone look so invested in a book, and –”
“and what, you thought interrupting me was the brilliant thing to do?” you snap, your cheeks beginning to flush in both embarrassment and anger at the entire ordeal. you tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, detaching yourself from the bookshelf to move out of your little nook and past his taller figure.
“i’m sorry. really.” he apologizes again as you begin to move. “you were in the zone and i completely ruined that for you. it’s just – you looked kinda pretty all concentrated like that and i just wanted to get your attention somehow...”
you pause in front of him mid-ramble, shooting him a confused look. was this guy for real right now?
the stranger reads your expression, and you can see the way his body viscerally reacts, his eyes widening and the tips of his ears turning a shade of crimson. “oh, fuck me. i did not mean to say that out loud  – i mean, not actually fuck me, obviously, that would be extremely rude and inappropriate to say right now –”
“oh my god, please, just stop talking.” you blurt in exasperation, hand coming up to his mouth to cover it. another customer wanders down the aisle, observing the two of you with a confused look as he walks by. you quickly move your hand, letting it hold on to the book instead as you take half a step back.
“i'm sorry." the boy apologizes again, his hands raised in surrender. "at least let me buy the book for you, darling. i really do feel bad.”
you almost let him. a new book for free? why would you ever say no? but you're perfectly capable of purchasing your own books... and you certainly didn't need a winston churchill here to do it for you out of pity. you let your pride and a healthy dose of skepticism govern your final answer:
“save the charity, prince william. and move while you’re at it. please.” you give him a curt smile as you use the back of your hand to gently push him out of your way.
a smirk pulls up the corner of his lips in amusement at the name, but you just barely miss it.
as you walk past rows of mahogany-colored bookcases, you fight the urge to turn around and see his face one more time. but you make it, you survive, and you gently slip the hefty travel book across the counter for the sales associate to ring up. you half expect the stranger to come after you one more time, but it never happens.
“huit euros,” the old man simply states, and you hand him the cash you’d fished out earlier.
with a quick merci, you walk past the counter and out of the shop, the delicate wind chimes clinking against the door to signal your departure.
and just like that, it’s all over. you’re out of each other’s orbits again, like two ships passing in the night.
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ptersmj · 8 days ago
hey i saw this on tik tok and i had to read it so could you write an angsty fic where the reader is mad at peter/tom for something and their punching his chest and he lets them until they just break down crying and it’s like super soft thank you 🤎🤍
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warnings: swearing and angst
a/n: we all know how i feel about angst to fluff hehehe happy reading <3
-
eight months, three weeks, ten days, nine hours, fifty six minutes, and fourteen seconds.
exactly how long it’s been since peter left and took part of you along with him.
he ditched queens for asgard, wakanda, whole different fucking galaxies. he ditched you for the avengers.
there was an open spot on the team for peter. he’d finally felt he was ready to claim it. yes, the people of queens needed him. but, he was also needed elsewhere and far more so. he had no choice but to step up.
that meant he had to say goodbye. to aunt may, to his friends, to you. peter didn’t simply bid you farewell and head on his way, though. he ended things.
for good.
ever since, you’ve been learning how to mend your broken heart. it’s a work in progress. you know deep down that a piece will always be missing as long as peter still has it.
you haven’t stopped loving him, even though it would be so much easier if you had.
eight months, three weeks, ten days, nine hours, fifty six minutes, and fourteen seconds later, someone knocks at your door.
your healing heart shatters when you answer.
you thought you were better. you thought you were moving on.
then, peter showed up.
“no,” you choke out, swinging the door closed in his face. he holds out a hand to stop it. “y/n, wait. please hear me out.“
“no!”
you make another attempt to force the door shut. tears well up in your eyes, peter pushing it back open.
there’s no use in fighting him on it. he’s too strong.
peter’s own eyes are pleading. the guilt, the remorse is written all over his face.
the two of you just stand there, neither sure what to do next. it’s been so long. yet, you still feel the same. you love him and hate him and crave him as much as you did the day he skipped town. you’ve carried that with you, let the pain control your every waking moment.
peter steps forward to come inside. you step back, angry tears running down your cheeks.
“you don’t get to waltz back in here like you never fucking left,” you spit. hurt flashes across peter’s features. “i’m not… that’s not what i’m trying to do,” he speaks calmly.
scoffing, you wipe the tears dripping down your skin.
“what are you trying to do, peter?” you demand. “why are you here?”
you notice the cuts carved into his knuckles as he wrings his fingers nervously. a faded scar peeks out from the hem of his sweater, and you don’t even want to imagine what bruises he has under it.
“it was time to come home,” peter admits, clasping his hands behind his back when he catches you looking. “because… you’re my home, y/n. i made a mistake, and i’m so sorry.”
you wish he would’ve said that a lot sooner.
“i don’t believe you one bit,” you dismiss peter. you move out of the doorway so you’re closer to him. “where were you?”
peter doesn’t say anything. he doesn’t even react when you jab a finger at his chest, the ragged breath you let out fanning across his face.
“you were gone almost an entire year, and i didn’t hear shit from you!” you shove peter backwards, shouting through your sobs.
he stumbles, but quickly finds his footing.
“no calls, no texts. you could’ve been dead in a ditch for all i knew,” you laugh bitterly. “it’s not fair, peter. i don’t understand how you could leave me like… like this!”
your fist collides with peter’s chest once again. he lets it, which makes you somehow angrier. you do it again, and again, and again until it’s out of your system and fresh tears are flowing.
“where the fuck were you?”
your voice cracks, fingers hooking in the collar of peter’s sweater and gripping onto it. you feel your knees starting to grow weak.
peter springs to action. he helps you into your apartment despite your refusals earlier, shutting the door behind you two. at last, you fall to your knees and pull him down with you.
he brings your head to rest on his chest, where you instantly bury your face. his fingers weave into your locks, free arm wrapping around your middle.
he’s holding you the tightest he possibly can, afraid he’ll lose you if he lets go.
“i’m here now,” peter coos, running his fingers through your hair carefully. “i shouldn’t have left before, but i’m here now.”
his lips brush your temple, other arm trailing down to your middle. both your arms hook around his waist. a whimper escapes you, peter shushing you and resting his chin on the top of your head. he presses more kisses to your scalp, you nuzzling into the crook of his neck.
“i love you, peter. i’m… i’m sorry,” you manage to get out, pecking a spot on his neck. he smiles to himself at your words.
“i love you, y/n. i’m sorry, too.”
533 notes · View notes
vendettaparker · 16 days ago
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Baby Blues [T.H]
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Summary: When you start acting weird, Tom suspects that you’re pregnant. 
Word Count: 2.3k
Warnings: Swearing, mentions of sex, very very light angst, typos
a/n: i love love loved this request! it was so cute and sweet and i’m such a whore for dad!tom (even though he’s technically not a dad in this lol). tom has said that he’s a huge family man and that he’d love to have kids one day, so this fic is so perfect and cute for that perspective. hope you all enjoy and as always, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated! 
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
Tom was one hundred percent a family man. That little personality trait only seemed to multiply when he met you. Even before you were dating, all he could think about was starting a family with you. He’d always tell you, one of his closest friends, about the family he couldn’t wait to start. When you did actually start dating, he’d always whisper sweet comments in your ear about what an amazing mother you’d be and how much he wanted to see you round with his kids. He was usually super sweet and gushy with it, but every once in a while he’d slip an “I’m gonna fuck you full of my babies”, which would always lead to the best sex you’d ever experienced. 
You wanted kids too, but your need for them was held back by how unprepared you felt and how young you were. You and Tom were still only in your twenties. You still had plenty of time to start a family. Hell, you weren’t even married yet. So, Tom agreed to wait for kids, even if he couldn’t possibly contain his excitement at the thought of starting a family with you. 
Until you and Tom were both completely prepared for the responsibility of kids, you stayed on birth control.
For most of your life, you stayed on this one birth control, but due to a change in your insurance, it was a better option to switch to one that would be more widely covered. The switch wasn’t that big of a deal, it just made you much more tired, moody, hungry, and snippy. You also may have gained a few extra pounds on this new pill. 
“Darling,” Tom called for you once he got home from his meetings, “where’s my beautiful—” 
He shut up the minute he saw you sprawled out across the couch with a donut in your hand and powdered sugar on your face. He chuckled a bit to himself at the silly sight, but his heart swelled with love when he saw how peaceful you looked. 
However, it was a bit strange that you were so tired at only four in the evening. He set his things down and took the donut out of your hand before pressing a wet kiss to your cheek. 
He didn’t think anything of it after that. 
It was about a week later when he heard you in the bathroom crying. 
“Love?” Tom knocked on the door, “Are you okay?”
You sniffled and open the door yourself, “Yeah, I just dropped my favorite perfume.” You looked down at the pink glass vile smashed on the floor, the lovely scent of roses filling the bathroom. 
“Aw, I’m sorry,” Tom came in and bent down to help you pick it up. You let out another sob, causing Tom to look up and see the red puffiness of your cheeks and the tears streaming down them. “I can buy you some more.” He offered. 
“It’s not the same,” you sniffled and sucked in a shaky breath, “this is the one I wore to the Far From Home premiere. It’s special to me.” You whispered the last part because your crying was becoming too raw. 
“It’s okay, darling,” Tom tried to comfort you, reaching out to hold you.
“No, it’s not” You snapped before being reduced to tears again. 
Tom just bit his tongue and nodded before finishing picking up the glass. 
You snuggled up to him later that night like nothing happened. “Mmm,” You hummed as you wrapped your arms around him and nuzzled your head into his pec, “you’re so comfortable. I love you.” 
Tom smiled and pressed a kiss to your forehead, “I love you too. Are you feeling better?”
“About what?”
“That perfume?” 
“Oh, yeah. I guess it wasn’t that big of a deal.” You shrugged before grabbing the remote and putting on a show for you and Tom. 
Three weeks later, with tiny little incidents in between, is when it finally clicked for Tom. You were at his family’s house for a summer grill out to celebrate the end of the season. 
“(Y/N)!” Paddy gave you a huge hug when he saw you, “I’m sorry I missed your birthday last month, I got this for you.” He held out a stuffed panda with a red bow on it. You gasped and held the gift in your hand. “I know how much you like pandas,” Paddy smiled. 
“I do,” You sniffled, surprising the young boy and Tom and Harrison, who were by your side, “I can’t believe you remembered that.” Tom could see the tears building up in your eyes, but he didn’t get a chance to ask if you were okay before you pulled Paddy into a bear hug, “thank you so much, Pads. This is the best gift ever.” You said, wiping your eyes with your other hand. 
You took Paddy’s hand, missing the surprised look on his face, and walked to the backyard where the grill out was with him. 
“Dude, what the hell was that about?” Harrison nudged Tom. 
“What?” Tom jolted back to reality.
“(Y/N), she was super emotional over that toy,” Harrison nodded in the direction you went. 
“Oh yeah,” Tom shrugged, “I don’t know, she’s been a little extra moody lately. The whole past month actually.” 
“She cried at a dog food commercial the other day,” Harry butt in from out of nowhere. 
“She ate almost all of that cheesecake I made last week,” Sam also added. 
“She yelled at me for stepping on her white sneakers,” Tuwaine commented. 
“Actually, that’s pretty valid,” Harrison said, “those were new sneakers.” 
“Still hurt my feelings,” Tuwaine mumbled. 
“Do you think—I mean, she could be—you guys think that maybe she’s, y’know…” Harry trailed off, swaying on his feet. 
“What?” Tom looked at all the boys, who one by one grew big knowing grins on their faces. 
“Mate,” Harrison hit Tom upside the head, “she’s pregnant.” 
Tom choked on his beer at that, “W-What? No—no, she’s not. She would’ve told me...right? Right?” 
“Maybe she wanted to surprise you,” Harry shrugged. 
“All the signs are pointing to it,” Sam added. 
“I didn’t even leave a smudge on the sneakers, she was just being mean,” Tuwaine grumbled. 
“No,” Tom shook his head, “I mean she just—I’m pretty sure she’d tell me.” 
“Think about it, mate,” Harrison put his arm around Tom’s shoulders, “she’s been moody, hungry, snippy—has she been extra tired lately?” Tom thought about it for a moment before slowly nodding. Harrison snapped his fingers, “and the final cherry on top; she’s drinking water instead of the mimosas your mom made.” 
“But (Y/N) doesn’t even like alcohol,” Tom tried to argue, but Harry immediately shut that down. 
“But she loves mimosas.” He pointed out. 
“Oh my god,” Tom gasped as the gears in his head finally began to process the information, “s-she’s pregnant. Oh my god, I’m gonna be a dad.” He looked at the boys, who one by one nodded along with big smiles on their faces. That was the last thing Tom saw before he fainted. 
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
“What the hell happened to him?” You snapped at the boys while you ran your fingers through an unconscious Tom’s hair. 
“Oh, y’know,” Sam swayed on his feet, “just the news and all.” 
“What news?” 
The boys looked at each other and all sent you a collective wink before rushing out of the room. You looked suspiciously at the door they left out of but shrugged it off. You were much too tired for their antics. 
Tom slowly came to as you ran a cool rag over his face, “Darling?” He mumbled. 
“Tommy? You okay? What happened?” You asked softly as you inspected his now opened eyes, making sure his pupils weren’t messed up. 
 “I’m alright, just took a little tumble is all.” Tom shrugged. He decided to not tell you that he knew just yet. If you wanted to surprise him, then he wanted to see what you had planned. You probably put a lot of work into the surprise and he’d hate to be the one to burst your bubble and ruin all the hard work. 
“Are you sure?” You looked at him worriedly, “Did the boys do something to you?” 
“No,” Tom shook his head, “I’m fine, baby, I promise.” 
You reluctantly nodded, “Okay, but if you start to feel faint again then we’re going to the hospital, no exceptions.” You said sternly. 
“Mhm,” Tom nodded and pulled you down for a kiss, “of course.” 
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
Unfortunately for Tom, like the bundle of excitement and nerves he was, he began stocking up on baby clothes and stuffed animals. Every time he’d see something cute he’d be rushing to the cash register to buy it. All the boys were in on it too, sending you both lots of baby shoes and diapers, which Tom just so happened to always receive. 
But soon another month went by and you still hadn’t said anything to Tom about the supposed pregnancy and he was beginning to get too antsy. 
“Darling,” Tom kissed your neck as he hugged you from behind while you cooked pasta, “you look beautiful today.” 
“Aw, thank you,” You gushed, turning your head around to press a wet kiss to his lips, “miss you this morning.” 
“Sorry, I just went to the store with the boys,” Tom mumbled, running a hand over your stomach, confusing you slightly, but you didn’t say anything. 
“That’s nice,” You commented as you stirred your sauce, “did you find anything nice?” 
“Mhm,” Tom hummed, “in fact, I got something I think you’ll really like…” 
“Oh? What is it?” 
Tom had gone out that morning and picked up a newborn Spider-man onesie. Since you hadn’t said anything, he decided to take the initiative. You may have been trying to surprise him, but he realized that it was unfair to you to let you keep thinking he didn’t know. At least, that's how he reasoned it so he could show you all the cool baby outfits he got. 
Tom held out the plastic bag to you with a huge smile on his face, “Now I know you might be a little confused with how I knew to get this, but just know that I’m happier than ever right now, okay?” 
“Okay?” You nodded skeptically, opening the bag and taking out the red and blue onesie, no bigger than a kitchen dish rag. “What the—?
“Surprise!” Tom yelled, “I know, I know, there’s no way I should know and I tried to hide the fact that I knew, but you know how excited I get. And you didn’t say anything, so I decided to just get it out of the way, and I have a whole closet filled with toys and diapers and the boys got us little—”
“What?” You interrupted Tom’s rambling, and held out the onesie, “What are you talking about?” 
Tom’s smile faltered, “Y-You know, for the baby…” 
You looked shocked and curious at Tom and then back at the onesie. Then you said the worst thing Tom could hear at that moment, “What baby?” 
“O-Our baby…” Tom said slowly, “right?” 
“I’m not pregnant, Tom.” You tilted your head, “Why would you think that?”
Tom began to rack his brain for the signs of pregnancy he saw in you these past couple of months, “B-But you were so m-moody? And tired? And you cried at the dog food commercial and Harrison said—” 
“Baby,” You cut Tom off and held a hand to his cheek, wiping the stray tear he didn’t even realize had fallen, “I’m not pregnant, babe; I got on a new birth control. It’s just taking my body a while to adjust to the change in hormones.” 
“Are—are you sure?” Tom asked hopefully. 
You frowned, “I’m sure,” You nodded, pulling him in for a hug and letting him rest his head on your shoulder. “I’m sorry you got your hopes up. Are you okay?” You said, giving his head a scratch to soothe him. 
“I’m fine. It’s not your fault,” Tom sighed, “I was just so excited. I really wanted it to be true.” He sniffled. 
“Tom—” You pressed a kiss to his cheek, but he pulled away. 
“It’s fine darling,” Tom straightened himself out and let go of you, “it’s fine. I’m just disappointed is all.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead before sulking away. 
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
After a quiet dinner, you found Tom in the guest room, going through all the baby items. You watched from the doorway while Tom looked at the little pile of clothes and toys pitifully. 
“Hey, baby,” You said softly, taking a seat next to him, “I’m really really sorry. I didn’t realize you’d think that.” 
“It’s not your fault,” Tom said again, toying with the Spider-man onesie, “Harrison’s the one that put the idea in my head.” He chuckled bitterly. 
“Tom,” You sighed, resting your head on his shoulder.
“Y’know I was thinking of baby names,” Tom said, “I was thinking Parker for a boy, or maybe Theodore, but we’d call him Theo.” 
“I like that,” You smiled, “or maybe Finley, and we could call him Finn.” You picked up the little Spider-man onesie and inspected it yourself, “and for a girl?” 
“I’ve always liked the name Clara,” Tom said, “or maybe Annalise, but we’d call her Anna.” 
“I like the name Ophelia,” You added, “maybe we’d just called her O.” 
“Yeah,” Tom smiled at the thought, before frowning again and beginning to pack up the baby items, “maybe one day.” 
“Tom,” You grabbed his arm and stopped him, “it means a lot to me too. I want to do this with you. If you think you’re ready, then I’m ready.” 
“Really?” Tom’s eyes began to glisten, “Are you sure? Really, truly sure?”
“I’m sure,” You nodded, “I want to give you kids, Tom. I love you.” 
Tom grinned and held your face in his hands, planting kisses all over it, “I love you too. I love you, I love you, I love you. Are you sure this is what you want?” 
“I’ve never wanted anything more,” You smiled, “I promise.”
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
✧tags & moots✧ PERM
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spidernerdsblog · 19 days ago
most of richkid/frat boy fic have got this shy and naive reader, so i was wondering if you could write it with Tom and a confident and sassy reader? With maybe real degradation when he successfully beds her?
Love your writing btw <3
NEED TO KNOW
A/N : a oneshot after a long time. Hope you like this. Let me know what you think.
Summary : people can be lovers and enemies at the same time, you know.
Pairing : Tom Holland x Reader (richkid AU, enemies -> fuckers)
Warnings : 18+, SMUT, minors DNI, shitty boyfriend, degradation, spit play, oral (m receiving), choking, dumbification, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) II w.c - 6k+
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The moment you landed in Ibiza you had everything mapped out in your head of how you were going to spend the next two weeks of your exotic Spanish vacation. That was to go for a swim in the clear blue waters and bask in the warmth of the sun kissed beach for which you had specifically packed some of your prettiest beachwear. Later on lounging in your private yacht with your latest boyfriend Chad watching the sunset while sipping on sangrias. But given your current circumstances you have hit a little snag with your plans. 
Dressed in black trousers and a white blouse paired with an open front white jacket, you glanced down at your shining wrist watch from Tiffany, your heels clicking against the polished marble floor as you paced back and forth the resort lobby. The meeting was supposed to start an hour ago, letting out an exasperated sigh you mentally curse the one and only person you despise in this world the most and the reason for this delay, Tom Holland. 
He was the oldest son of your dad’s longtime business partner so you had no escape from him. Every galas, luncheons, fundraisers or dinner parties you had to see his stupid gorgeous face. Sometimes people do get lucky or else how can an asshole like him be so good looking. Though you never got the appeal the very sound of his voice annoys you which makes you wonder what do people, especially girls, find so enticing about him? Except that he was reckless, impulsive and a total fuckboy. 
But one thing about him that seems to be applaudable is that Tom knew business. There wasn't a single meeting where he came back without getting the deal. He was smooth and had his way with his words, enough to convince the investors and that is why everyone adored him including your dad who saw him as the next CEO of this company. 
And that’s where the rivalry began, you both wanted the company and you are not going to let it go so easily. You could never stand each other though it was mostly you because he has always been polite and flirty with you that just irked you even more. It was this never ending chase of cat and mouse between you throwing insults back and forth to get a rise on the other.
You finally caught sight of him across the corridor in a powdery blue ensemble consisting of fitted trousers, crew neck t-shirt and a slim fit jacket paired with dark blue espadrilles. Tom had taste there was no doubt in that. He was walking in a hurry while trying to push back that one stubborn curl which always manages to fall over his face despite the amount of gel he used.
“Look who decided to finally grace us with their presence” you scoffed with a scowl on your face. 
“Hello Y/N surprised to see you here, love. Don’t you have your little dress up parties to attend?” he quipped back with a cocky grin. 
“It’s called a fashion week, Thomas, which you have zero knowledge about and it shows by your inadequate taste. Pairing a suit from Hugo boss with shoes from Gucci seriously? What a waste of money and a sore to the eye” you mocked him deliberately.
“Aww didn't know you cared for me so much. Hope your little boy toy isn't upset about your obsession for me” he bit back with a sarcastic tone. 
“First of all I don't give a fuck about you and secondly he is my boyfriend” you stated out agitated which only made his smile grow wider.
“Who are you kidding darling? He's with you just for your dad's money and of all you know it better”
“Excuse me, the last thing I want is relationship advice from someone who hasn't been in one like forever” you sneered. Tom was about to give another snarky reply but was interrupted by Anders, your dad’s assistant for the last thirty years. He's more of a family now.
“Are you two done? The meeting starts in a few minutes” he scolded both of you.
“Well it would have been over by now if someone had arrived on time. Now I have to cancel my herbal body wrap appointment at the spa” you grumbled striding away to the board room as Tom rolled his eyes and followed you shortly.
****
Board meetings bored you to death. It's always these old men arguing over the same things again and again. And ever since your dad gave you the responsibility of the publication house that your family owned you were forced to attend these monthly meetings. You sat there playing with the pen in your hand as your eyes wandered across the room to stop at the person sitting right opposite to you. 
Tom was quite invested in the whole meeting, listening to it carefully, occasionally taking down notes on the notepad kept in front of him on the glass table. It felt like time had slowed down and suddenly he became the most interesting subject for you in the whole room. Your eyes were now focused on him studying each and every detail. His freckle scattered face, his slightly crooked nose, that unruly eyebrow which you were always tempted to fix or how his eyes would wrinkle around the corners when he smiled or that very stubborn curl finding its way back to fall over his face which made a small smile creep up your own face. 
Your eyes trailed down further to his hands resting on the table, the very expensive Rolex glinting on his left wrist. How he held the pen between his long bony fingers and the veins popping with every slight movement of his wrist as you subconsciously bite the corner of your lips. It would be a lie if you said that he never invaded your thoughts once in a while, spiraling into some inappropriate places and fantasizing about him in not so innocent ways. Because let's face it he was cute and you may or may not have a little crush on him. And when he is not being a jerk he can be a real sweetheart even helping you out with the business. This duality of him confused you at times; it was like you wanted to kiss him and kill him at the same time.
You had no idea how long you were staring at him like that but soon you were brought back from your lust filled daze when Tom cleared his throat a little loudly to get your attention. You blinked and lifted your gaze to meet with his honey brown eyes, a smug grin plastered on his face as he had caught you red handed. He gave you a subtle wink and heat rose up your face in embarrassment. You looked away flustered, finally paying attention to whatever your father was saying.
“Okay as you can see there has been a sudden dip in the stock value of our company. The shares aren’t performing that well. So we have decided to cut some layoffs and we need everyone’s opinion on where the layoffs could be done” he explained. 
“It’s pretty simple actually that fashion magazine that we have invested in nobody cares about that” Tom remarked knowing how much it will irk you up.
“Excuse me, the publication is by far the best investment we have ever made. Our fashion page has around 8 million followers across the globe. Why don’t we shut down the luxury golf course instead?” you fired back. 
“Oh please we get lots of visitors all year round” he countered. 
“Yeah which mostly include a handful of shrewd old men”
“Yeah at least it’s helping them maintain their fitness and pass their time. What does your magazine do except gossip and fashion?” he argued. 
“Well it also talks about how to please women in bed. You should definitely give that a read, Thomas” you teased as his lips quirked into a smirk. 
“Oh darling I don’t need your stupid magazine to up my game cause--” 
“Enough! Both of you! We asked for solutions not more chaos” you father interrupted with a stern gaze.
“Sorry daddy”, “Sorry Mr. Y/L/N” you both mumbled an apology 
“Now can we talk about the business like grown up adults?” 
“Yeah sure, let’s talk numbers shall we?” you proposed moving forward to share your opinion “the fiscal turnover of the publication has been $3.9 million which is 30% more than the golf course and our stockholders are eager to invest more since the digital launch of our fashion magazine got a very good response. So clearly the golf course is draining a lot of money unnecessarily. I think everyone agrees on that?” 
“We agree, thank you so much Y/N” Tom’s dad nodded in agreement along with your dad and the other board members before turning to him “Tom we have to cut this year’s budget for the golf course”
“What? But dad -” Tom looked at his father in disbelief.
“Y/N is right in this matter so no further discussions over this” he said and Tom had to back off. 
“Ok so everything seems settled, see you at the gala tonight gentlemen” your dad said ending the meeting. Slowly everyone got up from their seats and made their way out of the room. Tom's face was pulled up in a frown while you had a wide grin on your face reveling upon your victory. 
“You think you won?”
“Think? I already did, you dumbass” you snickered and as Tom opened his mouth to say something you cut him off “sorry I don’t have much time to argue with you gotta go and select my outfit for the gala, see ya later sucker”   
“Fuck you Y/N!” he cursed fuming.
“You wish Holland” you sent a wink on his way with a sly smirk on your face. 
Tom watched you walk you away with a frown on his face, never missing the subtle sway in your hips with every stride you take. To be honest he neither hated you nor did he like you. If he had to be specific you were the classic stone cold bitch who always manages to get on each and every nerve of his. He wanted to hate you but then he can never ignore the fatal attraction he had towards you. 
You were smart, competent, charismatic and savvy who always knew what she wanted and did everything to get it. The perfect boss lady in the making. But the thing that he loved about you the most is despite your hard, unflinching exterior you had a good heart and always tried to do the right thing. Though you never let anyone see that side of yours not after your mother passed away when you were in middle school but knowing you for all these years he sees right through you.
Sometimes he may have stared at you a little longer and why wouldn't he? You were gorgeous. It may sound creepy but he had memorized each and every little habit of yours. Be it the way you flipped your hair haughtily or how your eyes sparkled when you were excited about something or the way you bite your lips when anxious. Oh that lip bite though. He had a certain kind of weakness to it. There was something innocent as well as seductive when you did that which only made him think of the things he could do to you if you were his. And that is why he was never fond of your boyfriends. He knew they were just a bunch of jerks who were just after your money. In those kinds of situations Tom couldn’t help but feel protective of you because somewhere inside his heart he fancied you. 
****
The gala had already begun, the hall was buzzing with guests and soft music played in the background to create the perfect ambience. Tom was standing near the open bar with a glass of whisky in his hand talking to one of the investors. He went to take a sip of his drink when you walked in dressed in a long gold sequin dress with a plunging V-neckline hugging your body at the right places paired with meshwork pointy-toe stilettos from Louboutin, hair set into loose curls cascading down your shoulders complimented by your dewy makeup. Tom checked you out through the rim of his glass but then he saw Chadwick by your side and his mood went sour. 
You went on to mingle with the guests while sneaking a peek of Tom through the corner of your eye, looking handsome as always in those fitted suits and obviously surrounded by a group of ladies giggling at his wisecracks and throwing themselves at him. It only made you roll your eyes and scoff at how predictable he was. You don’t know if it was the champagne or just your repressed feelings that you felt a subtle hint of jealousy creeping inside you. Sometimes you really wished he would be friendly with you as he is with others though you kinda brought that upon yourself with your mean attitude towards him.
You brushed away those thoughts and looked around to find your boyfriend was missing as usual. You met Chad at one of these galas six months ago and you both had hit it off then and there. This was the longest relationship you’ve ever had. He seemed like a nice guy compared to your previous boyfriends and you had a feeling that he might be the one but lately you have been second guessing that idea too. 
You felt tired, your legs aching from standing for such a long time in those high heels as you went and took a seat on one of the nearby tables. Tom was quick to notice you sitting all by yourself as he excused himself and beelined his way towards your table. 
“Aww all alone?” he teased, pulling out a chair and sat down next to you. 
“What do you want, Thomas?” you scoffed rolling your eyes. 
“Nothing just thought to give you some company since your dummy bf dumped you”
“Nobody dumps me, it's me who dumps people” you sassed.
“So then where is your dear Chad?” he asked with a knowing smirk.
“I don’t know and I don't care! He is a grownup man he can do whatever he likes” you stated.
“Woah no need to get so worked up sweetheart. I was just joking” he laughed.
“Why don’t you go and tell your horrible jokes to your lady friends? I'm sure they will find them funny just to sleep with you” you said with irritation.
“C’mon my jokes are funny ok” he frowned “but the thing I find more interesting at the moment that is you’ve been watching me. Hmm no doubt you are really obsessed with me eh” he smirked. 
“You!!” you fumed and stood up from your seat stomping your feet as you turned to leave.
“Now where are you going?” he called you back. 
“Away from you!” you huffed and stormed out of the hall to the lawn outside. Breathing in the fresh air you finally felt relaxed as you looked around the resort when someone caught your eyes near one of the pillars in the corridor. You squint your eyes trying to figure out who it was, the suit jacket appearing familiar to you. You slowly walked in the direction and your eyes went wide as you saw your boyfriend in between a very hot makeout session with one of the barmaids.    
“You fucking son of a bitch!” you roared from behind startling them. The girl ran inside as Chad looked at you with wide eyes.
“Y/N...”
“Don’t you say a word. We’re done!” you were hurt and were feeling terrible but you tried to hide your emotions under your angry demeanor.
“Y/N just listen to me” he took your hands in his but you were quick to pull them away.
“What more do you have to say huh? Just get out of here I don’t wanna see your face again” you told him.
“Hey I love you believe me”
“This is what you call love? Making out with some random chick behind my back?!” you yelled at him.
“I had too much to drink. I wasn’t thinking straight trust me” he said in his defense.
“Bullshit! You knew exactly what you were doing! I should have known you’re no better than the rest of guys who were just after my money” 
“Oh give me a break! With a spoilt brat like you any man would look for a little escape” he snapped at you.
“What did you say?” you were baffled by his audacity.
“You heard me sweetheart” he smiled crookedly “you really think everyone kisses your daddy’s ass so I would do the same? May I remind you are nothing without his name and money”
“What do you think of yourself? I gave you a little bit of attention and you seem to have grown wings. Don’t forget your worth is not even close to the shoes I wear!” you jibed with distaste in your voice which clearly offended his ego.
“You bitch!” he aggressively went to grab your arm but Tom showed up in time. He had followed you after you stormed out of the party and found you in a heated argument with Chad. 
“Yo mate back off!” Tom pushed Chad aside and stood guarded in front of you “what’s the matter bro? Didn’t your parents teach you to be nice to women?”
“You stay out of this, it's none of your business!” Chad barked at him.
“Well if that's the case my family owns half of this resort so whatever happens in its premises is totally my business” Tom tells him calmly before his voice drops an octave “and if you dare to touch her again I wouldn’t mind breaking that hand of yours. Now piss off!” he gave him a warning glare as Chadwick scuttled off leaving you two alone.
“You alright?” Tom looked at you with concern.
“Yeah” your voice was small.
“You need something?” 
“No, I better go back to my room. If anybody asks about me tell them I wasn’t feeling well” you told him.
“Let me walk you to your room” he offered.
“No need for that I’m fine” you dismissed him waving your hand.
“I know you are but still I want to” he insisted and you didn’t argue any further.
Reaching in front of the elevator he pressed the button, the doors slid open as you stepped in and stood next to each other. The elevator starts ascending as you let out a sigh slouching against the cold metal wall gazing down at your feet.
“Thanks by the way” there you finally said it, swallowing your pride which made him perk up and turn his body slightly towards you.
“Wait a minute, am I hearing wrong or did the Y/N Y/L/N is actually being nice to me for the first time?” he remarked with a look of surprise on his face making you regret instantly.
“Oh god it was a mistake, I take that back” you groaned, throwing your head back.
“No, no you already said it can't take it back now” he chortled as you silently accepted your defeat because for the first time he was right and also he stood up for you that is so unlikely of him to do at least for you.
“See I told you he was a jerk” he added and you knew he’s never going to let this go.
“Yeah, yeah I know. You don’t have to rub it on my face now” you huffed holding back the urge to roll your eyes. 
“Can’t help it. You really do have a poor taste in men” he snickered.
“You’re such an asshole” you grimaced. 
****
Arriving at your floor you swiped the keycard opening the door to your suite and turned to Tom who was about to leave “you wanna join me for a drink?” you don’t know why you offered but you wished he would agree to stay for some more time. 
“Would never say no to that” he said with a boyish grin and walked inside as you closed the door behind you. 
“Wine for the lady?” he asked, shrugging off his jacket and placing it on the armrest of the couch.
“Nah I need something strong” you said kicking off your heels and plopped on the couch feeling exhausted.
“So bourbon it is,” he chuckled, unbuttoning the first two buttons of his shirt and rolling up his sleeves as he strolls to the minibar. You couldn’t help but shamelessly ogle at his hands, veins popping out as he reaches out for the bottle of bourbon and then grabs two glasses from the cabinet. He sat next to you and opened the bottle pouring you and himself a drink. You took your glasses and clinked them together before gulping down the drink and went for a second round. No words were exchanged as you both sat there drinking silently but Tom didn’t fail to notice the slight crease on your forehead.  
“Stop thinking about that jerk he isn’t worth it” his voice breaks you out of your thoughts.
“But I can’t, I can’t stop thinking about what he said and the fact that it’s actually true makes it even worse. I mean how much ever I accomplish in my life to the world I will always be a rich man’s spoiled daughter who was born with a silver spoon in her mouth and gets whatever she wants” you ranted taking a swig of your drink.
“Oh c’mon it’s not your fault that you belong to a wealthy family. People will always envy you so it’s useless” Tom placed a hand on your shoulder reassuringly “I mean look at me the tabloids write a lot of things about me on a daily basis but I never gave a fuck about that” 
“You never give a fuck about anything” you deadpanned.
“That’s not true!” he gasps dramatically, pretending to be offended “I do sometimes. I am a human with feelings too”
“Really? When?” you raise your eyebrows looking amused.
“Well when I don’t get my morning tea on time or when I lose in golf to my brothers” you break into a smile shaking your head sideways as he tries to list it out “or when some moron is unable to appreciate this beautiful woman in front of me” he said softly and you perked up at his words.
“You think I’m beautiful?” you reasserted slightly taken aback.
“Yes I do” he affirmed, looking directly into your eyes.
“Oh shut up” you laughed it off.
“You think I’m bluffing?” he puts down his glass on the glass coffee table and scoots closer to you.
“I think that’s the alcohol talking you should go back to your room and take some rest” you rolled over giggling. 
“Well you might have not noticed but I always admired you a little too much” your laughter died down when he reached out a hand to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, resting his palm on your cheek. Perhaps it was the huskiness of his voice or the fact that he knew what he was doing as you leaned into his touch, his thumb stroking your cheek gently “though you can be a handful sometimes” he chuckled lightly, his other hand snaking around your waist, pulling you closer “but I’ve known the girl under this tough shell for a long time and she's beautiful and perfect” he gazed at you intently.
Suddenly you were very aware of how close he was to you, the heat radiating from his body made butterflies erupt in your stomach. The smell of his musky cologne invading your senses as you peeled your eyes off him, looking down at the floor in an attempt to avoid his intense gaze “I see you Y/N Y/L/N” he tilted your chin up holding it between his thumb and index fingers. You held your breath, eyes fleeting between his dark brown eyes and thin lips. 
His gaze lowered down to your plump lips, leaning in as his warm breath fanned against your face. His lips brushed against yours gingerly before gently pressing them to yours. Surprisingly you find yourself kissing him back. His lips felt so gentle, so warm, your hands slid up his chest and gripped on the collars of his shirt, pulling him closer. He traces your lips with his tongue, prodding your mouth open. He deepens the kiss, drawing out sweet delicate moans from you as you tasted the remnants of the bourbon that you were having a few minutes ago as. Your breathing was erratic as you slowly pulled away after sometime.
“I've been wanting to do this for a long time” he licks his lips eyeing you up and down with lust blown eyes. Your head was reeling as you subconsciously chewed on your bottom lip, rendered speechless at the fact that you just kissed the person you disliked the most and you liked it. 
“Stop doing that” he growled with clenched jaws. 
“What?” you blinked at him in confusion.
“This” he brushes the pad of his thumb across your red tinted lips. He may or may not have an unhealthy obsession with them especially when they are so soft and tempting “every time you bite that lip it just drives me mental” slipping his thumb between your lips for a split second before pulling it back out and resting it back on your plump lip, testing the waters. 
The alcohol was kicking in making you feel warm and fuzzy as you looked at him with droopy eyes which only made him chuckle but when he pushed his thumb into your mouth and you knew you'd fall victim to him.
“Good girl” he purred as you moaned at the praise, feeling slick pooling between your legs and continuing to suck his thumb swirling your tongue around it “you like to be called a good girl huh but are you?” he smirked and all of a sudden you bit his thumb.
“Ah you minx!” he groans, pulling out his thumb.  
“You think you can handle this Holland?” you raise a cocky brow, a mischievous smile dancing at the corner of your lips. Tom mirrors your smile, wrapping a hand at the back of your neck, pulling you closer.
“Such a brat. Maybe I need to fuck this bratty mouth first” he said condescendingly. You were too far gone to stick to your resolve. Moreover you read somewhere people can be lovers and enemies at the same and he was like a drug which you got addicted to with one taste and you needed more. So you did what you were best at, which is riling him up.
“Then maybe you should get on it before I change my mind” you said lowly, hand trailing up his thigh to palm his growing bulge as you feel him tense up under your touch.
“Get down on your knees princess. I won’t say it again” dominance laced in his voice as he stood up from the couch undoing his trousers and kicking them off to the side. He watched you slide down the couch as your knees hit the soft rug on the floor. Your eyes fixated on the hard outline of his cock visible through his boxers. He chuckled, grabbing your chin and tilting your head up to look at him.
“See what you do to me? Now be a good slut and fix your mess” as if all rational thinking left your brain, your body moving in its own accord. Your fingers hooked on to the band of his boxers and pulled them down as his cock springs free slapping against his abdomen. You licked your lips, mouth watering at the sight of his impressive length tip red and swollen leaking with precum, a prominent vein running underside of it.
“Open up those pretty lips for me darling” he crooned with a dirty smirk on his face while he stroked himself lazily putting on a little show for you. You part your lips as he places his length on the swell of your mouth. Tom leaned over, collecting a ball of spit and letting it drip over his head and into your mouth. 
“Make it nice and wet for me so that I can fuck that tight cunt later” as if your mind went numb as you obeyed him swirling your tongue over the tip of his cock moaning at the salty taste of his precum mixed with his saliva. Tom tilted his head back at the feeling of your soft and wet lips around his head. He was hot and heavy on your tongue, your mouth stretching around his girth as you bobbed up and down his length. 
“Your mouth feels like heaven baby, just like I imagined” his words spurred you on as you hollowed your cheeks and went all the way down until your nose hit his pelvis as you pushed back the urge to gag. You rubbed your thighs together to ease the growing ache between your legs as you run your tongue on the ridge of the vein and then release him with a pop. Wrapping your perfectly manicured fingers around the base you jerked him off as you sucked on his balls. A groan left his mouth watching you look up at him with doe eyes while you pulled and tugged on them coating them with saliva while your hand worked on his shaft. You couldn’t resist anymore as you slipped a hand inside your panties and stimulating your throbbing bud in slow circular motions.
“Are you touching yourself?” he arches an eyebrow cockily “knew you were a pathetic slut” he patronizes “work yourself open darling but don’t you dare cum” he warns as you slip two fingers inside pumping them slowly in and out of you as you take him in your mouth again.
His fingers threads through your hair gripping them tightly making your scalp burn as he decides to take control. Holding your head in place he began thrusting into your mouth. You gagged when he hit the back of your throat, eyes watery as your hands went on to grip on his thighs, nails digging into his skin.
“Taking me so well fuck” he pulled out for a second as you gasped for air before continuing to fuck your mouth raw, drool sliding down the corner of your mouth onto your cleavage. The room filled with his pleasured grunts and the sound of you choking on his length. 
“Holy shit I’m close” he moans as you feel him twitch and then spill his warm load in your mouth. He pulled out when he was sure that you had swallowed every drop as he took in your debauched appearance, face flushed, lips swollen, the red lipstick smudged and a mixture of drool and cum smeared on your chin was enough to make him hard again. 
“Since you did such a good job sucking my cock. What do you want, princess?” Tom cooed, rubbing your cheek with the back of his finger. Your throat was sore, jaws aching as you looked up at him with glassy eyes.
“Look at you so cock drunk can’t even think properly” he chuckled, holding you by your arm and pulling you up on your feet. You stumble as he pulls you closer wrapping an arm around your waist as he looks deep into your eyes “I asked you something, love. What do you want?”
“I-I want you to make me forget about him” you rasped out in a hoarse voice.
“With pleasure darling” his smirk grows into a grin before crashing his lips to yours with such force almost knocking the air out of your lungs. It was passionate and messy, teeth and tongues colliding as he backed you towards the bed. He gets rid of his shirt and hooks his fingers into the thin straps of your dress sliding them down your arms as the dress drops on the floor. A hum of approval came from Tom as his eyes raked in your gorgeous frame, bare to him, except for the little lace thong.
The back of your legs hit the bed as you fall on the plush mattress with Tom over you. Your lips chase each other as he bites on your lower lip before sucking on it. His mouth moves down your jaw, your throat and over your chest as he nips playfully at the swell of her breast, smirking against your skin. He kisses back up towards your ear, he’s nearly breathing as hard as you are “I'm gonna fuck you so hard, you will forget you ever even met that asshole” he growled nipping onto your earlobe. 
Your breath got caught in your throat, thighs trying to press together as he nudged them apart with his knee. He trails kisses down the valley of your breasts, fingers pinching and tugging your pebbled buds, kneading the supple flesh of your soft mounds. His lips ghosted across your stomach as he traveled down further. Gently tugging on the hem of the lacy thong between his teeth with a smirk as he slides them down your legs. Tom mouthed his way up your calves sucking light marks to the flesh of your inner thighs taking his own time appreciating your beautiful body as you squirmed with need.
“I think I’m gonna fall asleep if you carry on like that” you quipped snapping Tom out of his stupor as he smiled viciously and grabbed your hips and flipped you over on your stomach, pulling them your back arching with your ass up in the air.
“And I thought you’ll behave” without warning, a sharp spank landed on your ass making you yelp at the sting which he soothed by rubbing his hand over your burning skin “such a dirty girl made a mess already” he observes running two fingers through your sodden folds and brings them to his mouth to have a taste “you taste so sweet baby” he hummed sucking his fingers clean.
“Stop teasing and fuck me already Tom!” you whined a deep chuckle resonates from Tom as he gave another smack to your ass.
“Don’t be such a brat, good things come to those who wait” he ran the tip of his cock through your slick folds before lining himself to your entrance. You were already dripping with arousal and with one thrust he bottoms out as you gasp at the fullness. He was stretching you delightfully, making you feel each and every ridge and vein of his member. The gasps and mewls that fall from your lips are obscene, face pressing into the soft sheets as you rock backed into him slowly. 
“Bloody hell feels so fucking good wanna stay buried in this tight cunt forever” he groaned with pleasure. His broad hands gripped your hips, using his strength to slam your ass back against him. You fisted the sheets into your palms as he began rutting into you at a rough pace.
Tom pounded into your weeping cunt, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips as he drove deeper inside you. Your mouth fell open in a silent moan as your eyes rolled back in ecstasy, his tip brushing against your g spot with every obliterating thrust. Meanwhile his fingers found your sensitive bud as he rubbed it vigorously, sending jolts of pleasure through your body, making your mind all hazy. The words that came out of your mouth were a garbled mess. 
“Fuck, can’t even speak properly. Did I fuck you stupid baby?” Tom grunted, his smirk growing wider as tears welled up in your eyes from how good you felt “where are those snarky little comments huh? You like it when I fuck you dumb, c’mon, tell me how much you love it” he slapped on your swollen nub. 
“Yes I love it! love when you fuck me so... hard that I can’t think, don’t stop, please,” you cried out in desperation. Tom watched his cock disappear into your tight pussy soaked in your arousal.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought, such a pretty slut and all for me,” Tom taunted “I'm going to ruin this pussy for any other man, you like that idea?”
“Yes! Tom, please, fuck me, make me yours” you moaned, your walls constricting around his thick cock pressure building inside your stomach.  
“You're gonna be a good girl for me, gonna let me fill you up?” he slid his hand down your back and grabbed the back of your neck, pulling you up flush against his chest as he snapped his hips harshly. 
“Oh-” you gasped loudly, throwing your head back as you choked out a moan “yes, fuck, fill me up”
“That’s it baby, can feel you squeezing me, go ahead, milk me dry, show me how much you need it” he coaxed thrusting inside you as you moaned, eyes screwed shut in pleasure. His deft fingers worked on your clit tethering you to the edge. With a few more thrusts your body convulsed as your high washed over you. Your walls pulsated around him as Tom fucked you through your orgasm chasing his own high. 
“Fuck!” he rasped as you felt him throb, painting your walls with his warm release. He dropped both of you on the bed panting as he pulled out making sure not to crush you and rolled over to your side. You weakly turned on your back on the bed breathless and panting, desperately trying to calm your breathing. Tom wrapped his arm around your body and pulled you closer to him.
“So did that help?” he asked, brushing your messy hair out of your face with a lazy smile.
“Yeah it was good but don’t need to flatter yourself so much” you sassed.
“Really? The mean girl attitude after you were literally screaming my name a few seconds ago” he gave you an unamused look.
“Well deal with it or leave” you shrugged nonchalantly.   
“Nah I don’t think I can leave you anymore” he said nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck “by the way you wanna go sailing tomorrow in our private yacht?”
“Only if you fuck me on the deck later” you said with a mischief in your eyes, the corner of your lips tugged into a sly smirk.
“Gladly” he grinned cheekily and captured your lips into a soft kiss.
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Reblogs are appreciated ❤️
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rosyparkers · 5 months ago
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break up with your girlfriend | tsh
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synopsis ⇢ she’s pretty, you think, as you watch her place her hand over his heart. of course she’s pretty, when her boyfriend looks like that. and even though spite curls in your stomach at the sight of tom with her, you can’t help but smile as you remember the bitemark you left on his chest, right under her palm.
↳ frat football player!tom, cheerleader!y/n, fwb au
genre ⇢ just so much smut holy shit, angst, light fluff
word count ⇢ 12k
note ⇢ just to specify, it’s american football and not the football you play with your feet rip </3 although tom would be a hot soccer player... maybe a next time. anyway, hope you enjoy this fic, it stole my soul in exchange for letting me write it, and i edited it to the best of my ability but i’m sure i missed a bunch of typos bc i am so very tired and will get to it tomorrow. now, i’m gonna go spend the rest of my birthday in a tub of cookie dough ice cream. cheers!
oh also, there will not be a second part to this, so please don’t ask for one! <3
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smut warnings ⇢ dom!tom, bratty sub!y/n, frivolous making out, oral (m + f rec), doing indecent things on a motorcycle, praise kink, like too much dirty talk honestly i have issues, shower sex, fingering, overstimulation, cum play
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She’s pretty. It makes sense that she is, of course, because it’s him she’s hanging all over.
Even under the scarce lights of Phi Theta’s backyard, she glows; ebony skin shining and grey doe eyes twinkling. You watch her curly hair bounce as she throws her head back in laughter, her hand smacking his chest and he grins with pride at amusing her. Arms slinking around his bicep, she brings him closer, torsos pressing together, and he drops a kiss to her forehead. Bitterness erupts in your mouth, the acrid taste unlike that of the beer swirling in your plastic cup. You wonder what she would think if she saw the bitemark you left on his chest, right under her palm.
You’ve been to enough Phi Theta parties to get used to seeing Tom Holland—the frat and university’s football star, honestly—but something about tonight reduces you to a middle school girl making unrequited heart eyes at her crush across a classroom. The blaring music distracts you from the pounding of your heart in your chest, as though it’s trying to break free and hop its way towards him, and you drop your gaze to the alcohol in your grip, if only for a minute. Her boisterous laugh catches your attention, like your ears are tuned in to their signals under the deafening music. A blond man and a petite redhead have joined them, all four of them standing in a circle of perfectly happy, perfectly attractive couples, fit for a fucking Abercrombie photo shoot.
“Found it!” A voice resounds from beside you, and you snap your head away from the scene on the other end of the yard to see Dylan approaching you. He’s got a Hello Kitty headband on, dark hair crawling over it, and you crack a grin at the large bottle of vodka he holds up victoriously. “I need something stronger than fucking beer, we’re seniors, not fifteen-year-olds. Besides,” his grin widens like a Cheshire’s, “you know what they say about drunken cheerleaders.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Sasha pipes up, approaching the two of you with Isaac tumbling along in town, their hands interlocked, “although I think this one right here’s had too much already.” The strawberry blond man falls into her, burying his face in his girlfriend’s neck as he blabbers drunkenly. You snort at them, catching your best friend’s eyes before she rolls them in feeble annoyance, but you can still see a smitten smile play on her face.
Dylan throws an arm around you, bringing you into his chest. He’s impossibly tall, much too tall to rest his chin comfortably on your crown, but the low, alcoholic buzzing in your head and the green tint in your eyes let him pull you into him. Ever since you met the man three years ago during freshmen orientation week, you’ve been inseparable, arguably much closer than two platonic friends should be. Over the months spent together, in between shots at parties and emptying wine bottles he stole from his father’s vast collection, you and Dylan shared a bed a few times, but you both agreed the spark necessary to take it any further than an occasional hook-up just isn’t there.
Tonight, with the view in the corner of your eyes and the promise of drinking your thoughts away hanging in the air, you relax into his strong grip and let your head fall back as you listen to your three friends bicker and talk about their professors from hell and future plans. Hips moving to the rhythm of a song you like that just came on the speakers, you take a large gulp of the vodka Dylan filled your cup with after unceremoniously dumping its previous contents out on the grass beside you.
With his hand rubbing circles on your waist, the contact steady and soothing, you almost don’t notice the buzzing of your phone in your skirt’s pocket. A potent mix of excitement and dread coils in your stomach like a cat settling into a sunbeam, your thighs clenching as you already feel it in your gut—you know it’s him without even having to check. Breaking away from your friends, you throw out the excuse of needing to go to the bathroom, but you can’t help yourself from throwing a glance his way only to see him staring at her, his phone visible in his hand.
The music is somehow even louder as you step into the frat house and head straight to the first-floor bathroom, the journey being wholly familiar to you. Memories of countless morning walks downstairs, dressed in nothing but one of his shirts as you hoped none of his friends will see you leaving his bedroom, but knowing ultimately that it wouldn’t matter. Once you find the bathroom, thankfully unused, you slide in and lock the door behind you, hands gripping the counter tightly. In safe confines, you click on your messages without the fear of one of your friends seeing, heart thundering in your chest as you clock the blue dot beside his empty icon, a simple T on a grey circle.
If only you can keep your eyes on me in bed like you’re doing now. Always gotta remind you to keep them open through the pleasure, don’t I?
Fuck.
Your eyes run over the words once, twice, thrice, feeling the pit in your tummy deepen at every reread. Tom wasn’t always like this, especially not when you began hooking up. Three months ago, he was still just as cocky, still carrying himself like he and his buddies owned every hallway they stepped in, but not with you. Not at first. Back in September, when you were paired up for a project in your cinematography class, which you chose on a whim for extra credit, you already knew who he was, and you wanted nothing to do with him. He’d known your name, too; made a few flaccid jokes about you not wearing your cheer uniform to class and apologised for them profusely when you pretended to be angry. Multiple late nights at the library later, you ended up in his bed, bowls of candy and his laptop thrown aside, Thelma & Louise playing in the background as your lips met and became very close acquaintances.
The first words he said to you the next morning were this was a mistake. Apparently, there was a Mrs Football, his beloved girlfriend of many years off on a scholarship in Scotland, and last night was—no, you were a terrible, horrible, no good mistake. You promised him that it’s okay; people slip up, but you would remain perfectly silent. No one had to know. The guilt of sleeping with a man in a committed relationship would fade away eventually, so long as you kept quiet and stayed strictly friendly.
Until the next night, when he showed up drunk at your apartment after football practice and railed you in the shower. Then again in your bed.
Well into November, it feels almost like your memories are tricking you when you think back on Tom’s shy, regretful self, with his timid behaviour around you in the mornings and his scrambling to get dressed and get away for the first couple of weeks. You had been right, though, to say both of your guilt-ridden antics would melt away as the days passed and the touches grew more consistent. What were brief encounters at night turned into hangouts during the day, catching each other between classes and driving off-campus to be together freely. His friends know—you’re sure his best friend, Harrison, at least, is fully aware, from the looks he’s been throwing you during practice for weeks, and especially from the ones he’s given you all night.
Now that you know every inch of Tom’s skin and he’s memorised every little sound you make, you’ve barely gone forty-eight hours without his touch, your phone flashing with his name like clockwork. Dinners in his room, muffled moans in the library, wandering hands at parties, yearning looks during practice. Except for this week.
No, this week, you’ve barely caught so much as a glimpse of him before this party. He’s been avoiding you, letting texts go unanswered, being the first one to leave class, and disappearing right after your joint practices; his bag slung over his shoulder as he walked off the field before you’ve even begun heading to the changing rooms. You’re fully aware your arrangement with Tom’s nothing exclusive, and it’s never been much of a bother. Oftentimes, you’d hear rumours of him leaving girls’ dorms in the middle of the night, and they would only make you snort and tease him the next time he ends up in your bed, or you in his. It’s not like you were one-sidedly monogamous to him, either, the proof residing in the hickeys Dylan left on your neck last night.
Before this week, you hadn’t given much thought to the way your shoulders tense at the mention of his girlfriend, chalking it up to shreds of culpability and discomfort that you hadn’t fully cast away. In the back of your mind, you know she’s real, and she’s much more than a name that leaves Tom’s lips every once in a while when he untangles his limbs from yours. But seeing her in the flesh, assigning more than an Instagram selfie to her existence—it’s completely thrown you off. What used to be a weak flame of confused annoyance has now sparked in a full-blown fire in your chest, and you’re desperately trying to extinguish it before the night’s over, before he notices, before you figure out why it’s even there.
You place your phone face down on the counter, throwing your head back to take deep breaths and try as much as you can to calm down. Up until this week, keeping your somewhat friends with benefits arrangement with Tom a secret was just an inconvenience, the reason behind your many awkward excuses to miss plans with friends. Now, as you cross your arms over your chest and attempt to relax even just a little bit, it feels like a heavy weight that’s been thrust upon your shoulders, a burdensome hole you keep digging yourself into. You don’t get much of a chance to soothe your nerves and come up with a plan to get through the night before a knock sounds on your door while you’re in the midst of splashing cold water on your face.
Cursing under your breath, you reach for the knob and open the door, fixing your eyes on the floor so you don’t have to make tepid conversation with whoever’s waiting on the bathroom, but you’re unable to pass. A broad torso blocks your passage, making your eyes fall shut with irritation as you realise it’s him, because of course it is. In the light of the corridor, you can see Tom more clearly; the freckles on the bridge of his nose and the perfect tuft of hair drooping over his forehead, the flush in his cheeks from the alcohol and the nippy weather. He looks good, infuriatingly so, as always—fitted black shirt tucked into his favourite pair of cuffed jeans, the same one he bought when you went to the mall together four weeks ago, the same one that’s graced your bedroom floor innumerable times.
“Excuse me,” you mutter, trying to move past him, but he blocks you again. A wave of his cologne nearly smacks you in the face, and you bite down on your cheek at the flood in your panties.
“That’s it?” Tom’s chuckle reverberates in the empty corridor, filling your ears along with your erratic heartbeat as his fingers wrap around your elbow. “You make eyes at me all night long and that’s all you’ve got to say to me?”
A sudden rage strikes through you, and you rip your arm out of his light hold, crossing it along with your other over your chest. The movement makes his eyes drift to the low cut of your dress, if only for a second, but you notice. “I did no such thing,” you bite, holding your head up high despite the weakness of your statement. “If you’re the one who’s been trying to talk to me all night, there’s no shame in admitting it instead of putting the blame on me, sweetie.”
Tom rolls his eyes while he steps closer, making you press your back against the wall in a feeble attempt to put more space between you, because God knows you lose all sense of rationality when he’s not held back at arm’s length.
“Careful,” you tut, a wide smile on your features that borders on a malicious grimace, “wouldn’t want anyone to see us standing this close, Tommy. You are a committed man, after all.”
Seemingly unaffected, his hand, big and warm, cups the side of your neck, thumb tracing over the curve of your jaw and down the middle of your throat. You’re no stranger to his palm wrapped around your windpipe—if anything, you’ve spent fewer nights with it there than you have with an unrestricted throat. The tips of his fingers on his other hand trace the opposite side of your neck before finding the metallic chain hanging off of it. Tom’s eyes widen, making amusement mix with the arousal boiling rapidly in the pit of your stomach as you watch realisation set in his hardened, brown irises. It’s his dog tags, the ones he got after joining the frat in his first year; the ones with his initials carved onto the back of the metal pendant, and it’s lying on your skin, branding you. 
Furrowing his eyebrows, he tugs you by the chain until your chests are nearly pressed together and walks you backwards, your back hitting the wall, “You’ve gotten too cocky tonight, darling. Forgetting your place already?”
“Hm, maybe,” your grin is coated with faux innocence as your hand digs into his back pocket, “or maybe you should spend a little less time playing house with your girlfriend, and a little more time fucking me right.”
At your words, Tom’s eyes narrow, “Jealousy’s not a good look on you, Y/N.” He mumbles, gaze flitting down to your lips. “You can pull off almost everything, but not green.”
Scoffing, you push him back with a hand on his chest. “Everything’s a good look on me, Holland, and you know it.” Fingers snagging his belt, your other hand slides under the skirt of your outfit to find the elastic of your underwear. “Green, blue, black, white,” when the lace material slides down your legs, so do Tom’s orbs, and you take your time bending over to grasp them. Once upright, you make a show of dangling your panties in front of him, letting him stare at the wetness covering their centre, before you stuff them in the right pocket of his jeans. “Red. Your favourite, isn’t it?”
In a flash, his hands are cupping your jaw, yours finding their way on his strong biceps, almost bringing your lips together until voices are heard one hallway over. Grinning, you lean on your tiptoes to press a faint, teasing kiss to his bottom lip, patting his pocket once before you slide away, leaving ample space between you.
Harrison and the redhead you saw earlier appear, followed shortly by the frizzy-haired girl who’s been laughing in Tom’s embrace since you stepped foot in this party. At the sight of Tom, her eyes light up, and so does the fire in your chest as he reaches out an arm towards her, like it’s his second nature. She grabs his hand, letting him bring her into him like he did earlier. With her lips to his ear, she whispers something, gaze finding you, with your hands clasped in front of you like you’re waiting in line at the grocery store. There’s not much of an ideal pose to hold in front of the girl whose boyfriend you’ve been fucking for months.
Despite the bitter taste that coats your tongue, you manage a beaming smile at her, feeling a hint of amusement at the way Tom licks his lips nervously when she asks him to introduce you, an airy giggle leaving her.
“Love, this is, uh, Y/N,” he ends up saying, taking his hand off her waist for a moment to wave at you lazily as though it’s difficult for her to find you in the empty corridor. “We…”
“We worked together on a cinematography project a few months back,” you finish his sentence, thrusting your arm out to shake her hand. “It’s so nice to meet the girl he talks about all the time, even in the middle of practice.”
She throws her head back laughing, the sound rowdy and feminine all at once, rumbling around in your head like an echo. Her hand fits into yours, the same one you used to shove your panties in her boyfriend’s pocket. “It’s nice to meet you, too. I’m Myriam,” she grins, her temples resting on Tom’s shoulder, “and I’m going to take a wild guess and say you haven’t heard this fool ramble about me during practice because you’re also on the football team.”
Chuckling, you shake your head, trying your hardest not to focus on the hand she slips under his shirt, “No, I’m a cheerleader. Have to spend a ridiculous amount of time around fools in general, though.”
Your joke makes her snicker, and Tom’s grimace relaxes if only for a bit, jaw unclenching as Myriam looks up at him with a brilliant smile. “Well, Y/N, we were just about to grab a bite at the Red Lion. You wanna join?”
Looking away from her, your eyes fall on Harrison, standing only a few feet away with his own girlfriend—Laurel, if you remember correctly—wrapped around him. His gaze is tight, expression nearly as cloudy as Tom’s, whose voice you can hear try to dissuade Myriam from her generous proposition, but you’re unable to make out his exact words. A part of you, the same crazy one that let you get this deep with Tom in the first place, is pushing for you to accept Myriam’s offer just to annoy him, to make him feel a fraction of the frustration you’ve felt for a while now. Like a little devil on your left shoulder, it’s trying to convince you to say yes and to sneer right back at Harrison and the way he’s staring at you, as though you’re some villainous creature.
The choice is ripped out of your hands as a loud noise erupts from behind Tom and Myriam, and you look up to see Dylan stumbling around. He throws his arms up at the sight of you, a large grin stretching his lips, “There you are! Fuck, been looking for you. I’m, like, this close to passing the fuck out in a bush.”
You let out a strained laugh, moving towards him rapidly. Feet almost off the ground, Dylan falls into you, all lanky and tall and reeking of vodka and sweat. Throwing an arm around him, you try to steady him without tumbling right down to the floor as well. “Okay, slow down there, champ,” you mumble, heaving his heavy bicep over your shoulder. In the corner of your eye, you can feel Tom’s ogling you, face unreadable as he watches Dylan grab you tightly. Plastering on your brightest smile, you look past him and at Myriam, instead. “I’d love to join you guys, but I’ve got to get this lightweight home.”
Her laugh sounds out again, at the same time Dylan groans as he hits his elbow against the wall. With her boyfriend’s eyes trained on you, you jokingly wish them a goodnight and pretend to be flustered when Dylan’s hand slides lower and lower across your back. The last thing you hear from Tom is a bleak, clipped hum when Myriam says something along the lines of they make a cute couple, don’t you think?
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Despite the football season ending almost two weeks ago, your cheerleading practices are nowhere near over. If anything, your coach has only grown harsher, orchestrating longer, more demanding routines with each session. Her decision to do so couldn’t have come at a worse time for you, what with the fog that seems to reside in your head whenever Tom’s name is so much as mentioned in your vicinity, but especially because of the cold you’ve just come down with.
The morning after the party, you woke up to a blaring headache and a runny nose, every muscle in your body suddenly weighing ten times more. It didn’t take very long for you to realise your sickness was a direct result of having Dylan slobbering over you on your way back to his dorm when he sent you a photo of him looking like a half-dead corpse mere hours after your awakening. Resting during the weekend fixed nothing, for you were feeling much more ill come Monday, vertigo and nausea adding themselves to your mix of seasonal flu. It’s only on Thursday did you find yourself feeling more human, less cadaver. Now, on Friday morning, you’ve gathered up enough courage to go to class before joining the rest of your team for afternoon practice.
After two gruelling lectures—which you barely understood because you missed their previous class times—you drag your feet towards the gymnasium, having already changed into the uniform in the bathroom, all except your protection shorts. Mere feet away from the entrance, fingers wrap around your elbow, sending your heart soaring in your chest, and you jump multiple feet in the air with fright. At the sight of him beside you, a shaky hand presses your ribcage, and you throw him a nasty look.
From the sports bag thrown over his shoulder and the damp curls over his forehead, you can tell Tom’s just come back from showering after his own practice. You suck in a breath at the timid smile he sends you, and your free hand clenches into a fist when you look him over. Dressed in black joggers and a light coat covering his large, pink sweatshirt with the hood up, he looks warm, comfortable, safe, and it’s somehow a hundred times more attractive to you than if he were in that tight, white shirt you love on him so much. God, you’re in too deep.
Wide brown eyes stare back at you, their edges crinkling a bit at your comically alarmed expression. “Sorry,” Tom finally says, taking his hand off your elbow and shoving it into the pocket of his sweatshirt, “didn’t mean to scare you. I just, I saw you and I needed—wanted to say hi.”
It takes a good amount of strength for you to not let your jaw hit the ground, and you clear your throat nervously. “Right. Well, I’m here.” You cringe, wrapping your arms tighter around your jacket-covered torso. “I’m going to be late for practice, so…”
He can see right through your lies, knowing your practise doesn’t start for another thirty minutes. “No, yeah,” he perks up, taking a step towards you despite what you said, “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.” At the wary look on your face, his hand finds the back of his neck, a nervous antic you’ve seen on him countless times. “You know, after the party last week.”
A scoff tumbles out of your throat, and you back away from him as you chuckle humourlessly. “I should’ve fucking known,” shaking your head, you miss the way his eyebrows gather in confusion, “I should’ve known you’re just here to make sure seeing your girlfriend didn’t spook me. Well, you’ve got nothing to worry about, Holland—I kept my mouth shut when she spoke to me and I’m still keeping it shut now. If she finds out you’ve been fucking around behind her back, it won’t be from me.”
“Woah, woah,” Tom stutters, wincing as you finish your rant. His hands reach for your shoulders, but you shrug them off, taking another step back. “That’s not at all what I approached you for, darling. This isn’t, like, a shake-down or whatever, I’m not trying to check you’ll stay quiet about us. I swear to you, Y/N.”
You grimace, eyes squeezing shut, when that little, one-syllable word drops from his lips—us. You and him, us. Tightening your grip on yourself, you look back at him, eyes hardened and nails biting into your palm. “Then what do you want?”
“I want to know you’re alright.” He breathes, palm raising pathetically to hover over your arm, before it falls back by his side. “You haven’t been to class or practice all week, you haven’t answered any of my texts or calls, I haven’t seen you, and it’s not like I can ask any of your friends about you without stepping over any of the boundaries you set.” While you’re stunned into silence, Tom hesitantly strides forward, and you let him. “And I get it, I get why you don’t want anyone to know about us. I know the things people will say if they find out, I know you’ll be called dehumanising names while I’d be fucking celebrated for cheating on my girlfriend.” Against your wish to stay angry at him, you let your clenched fists fall, and his shyly look for yours, pinkie curling around your own. “Yeah, a part of me doesn’t want anyone to know because I don’t want word to find Myriam, either, but I really am respecting these boundaries for you, too. I just… I haven’t seen you all week, and I got worried. It’s not my place, but I got worried. So,” he sighs, “I’m sorry, but I worry about you and I can’t stop it.”
Eyes fixed on your pinkies, your fingers shake as they interlock with the rest of his, and you let out a shaky breath at the feeling of his palm pressed to yours. When he stands right in front of you, virtually no space left between your bodies, you let him, and you look up at him sceptically.
“I was sick,” you whisper, the strengthening wind carrying the sound to him, “Dylan got the flu, and he gave it to me at the party. I’ve been pretty much living like a bed-ridden zombie since the weekend.” You can’t help yourself from feeling even the tiniest bit giddy at the lock in his jaw when you mention the other man, and you squeeze his palm. “I didn’t answer your texts because I was in no shape to fuck, Tom.”
“Could’ve told me you’re alive, though,” he mumbles, rolling his eyes dramatically, and you giggle.
Cupping his face, you throw a quick glance around you before reaching up to drop a teasing peck on his pouty lips. “You care about me, huh?”
He follows you, neck bending to lengthen the kiss, but you press your index to his chin. Huffing, Tom’s arms find their way around your waist, closing the gap between you, “Of course I care about you, idiot,” he grins, and you wonder if he can hear the fireworks his confession has set off in your heart, “you’re not just a good fuck. You also give great head.”
The loud laugh he lets out makes your stomach clench, and you can’t stop the matching grin that paints your lips, too. It’s your turn to roll your eyes at his antics, pushing him away just for his fingers to interlace with your own and pull you close again. In the months he’s been in your life, you’ve come to realise Tom’s a very physically affectionate person, even with his strictly platonic friends. He’s got no problem kissing his friends’ cheeks and posting pictures of him hugging his mates on social media with an array of colourful heart emojis, but it still knocks the wind out of you when he’s so openly doting with you. Some fraction of your heart wants nothing more than to melt in his embrace and kiss his face all over, knowing it’s not coming from a sexual place, yet another, bigger, louder part is telling you to be cautious. He’s not yours to love, it sings, delighting in your sadness, you’re on borrowed time.
Instead of listening, you run your thumb across the back of his head and let your eyes flutter shut when his lips press against your forehead. An idea sparks in you, and you find yourself looking around one more time to make sure there’s no one around, before you start walking. Tom lets out a surprised grunt as you drag him along with you, getting further and further away from the gym building until you’re on the football field. It’s empty, the last of the players and coach having left long ago, and you head determinedly to the stands.
“What are you—oh.” The question drops in Tom’s throat when you stop behind the bleachers, pushing him up against the metal structure until his back’s pressed to it. “Are you—do you mean, like, now, because I—”
Your hands hold his jaw once more, lips finding his own, and you moan into his mouth when he grabs your waist, fingertips digging into your flesh. The first slide of his tongue along your bottom lip has you quivering, palms slipping from his neck to the edge of his sweatshirt and splaying against his muscular abdomen. His skin is warm and soft, a rough comparison to the defined muscles beneath it, as your nails scrape across his abs. The feeling of not being able to touch him enough after not having felt him for a week is overwhelming, making you kiss him harder, and he reciprocates just as passionately.
With his digits sliding into your hair, playing with the band holding your ponytail together, you break apart, a grin spreading on your lips as you place one last kiss on his own before slinking down to your knees. Tom’s cheeks have reddened considerably, making him look all the more flustered and handsome as his blown-out irises watch you reach for the strings of his joggers. He’s half hard under your palm, sending heat between your legs as you pull his joggers down halfway down his thighs. Length struggling against the tightness of his black boxers, Tom watches you from under hooded eyes as you lick a long line along his clothed cock.
When you reach the elastic of his briefs, you press a wet, open-mouthed kiss to his bellybutton, dragging your teeth down back to his underwear. Fingers tucked in the edges of the material, you bring it down, lips spreading as the tip of his dick falls on your bottom one. You kiss it, eyes fluttering shut at the drop of precum that falls onto your tongue, and one of Tom’s hands go to your head. His nimble fingers snap your scrunchie, threading through the locks that tumble out of your ponytail as your tongue drags along his shaft, feeling it thicken even more in your hand.
A heavy exhale is released through his nose as you begin sliding his cock into your mouth, sucking repeatedly as you coax him into hardening further, length heavy and full on your tongue. “Mhm—fuck, so good for me,” he breathes, pulling on your hair just the way you like, “missed this perfect mouth like you wouldn’t believe. Can’t go another week without it, baby, can’t go another week without fucking this pretty face.”
All you can do is keep your eyes trained on him, his words lighting fires under your skin as you slowly move your lips back and forth, taking in inch by inch of his cock until your pursed lips finally wrap around his base. The moan he lets out is borderline pornographic, rumbling deep in his chest, and your clench your hands around his thigh to stop your fingers from finding your pulsing clit.
Thumbs brushing your full cheeks, Tom practically purrs as you swallow him, “There you go, darling, just like that.” You swallow again, throat repeatedly constricting and massaging his cock, and you whine at the praise. “Keep being so good for me and I’ll reward you like you deserve, what do you think?” Loud and long, you whimper hotly, bobbing your head rapidly as your tongue licks along the underside of his dick. “Want me to fuck you right here, or you feeling like an audience, baby? Could take you back to your changing rooms and fuck your tight little pussy in the shower. We’ll have the stall closed, but your teammates will know we’re in there, they’ll still hear your choked moans when you’re trying to stay quiet but this dick’s too good to not scream for, yeah?”
His eyes close, mouth still running with filth as your tongue works against his slit, and he drops one fist from your hair to your throat. Fingers grazing along your skin, Tom bites down hard on his lip, feeling the muscles of your throat shit as the thrusts of his hips and the bobbing of your head get him closer and closer. Every time you move forward, his hips flex to push more of his cock into your mouth, and you suck him harder, wet sounds resounding in your empty corner of the football field.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he pants, eyes squeezing shut for a brief moment before finding your face again, watching as yours water and flicker from his flexing abs, his sweatshirt bunched halfway around his torso, and his length. “Feels so good, Y/N, I’m close—mhm, shit.”
Burying your face in his crotch, you take the entire length of him down your throat, humming and moaning as he thrusts faster and hisses at the pleasure. Feeling that ever so familiar, burning heat at the base of his spine building higher, Tom’s hands find your chin, stopping your movement. He groans like it pains him to leave your mouth, he slides his cock out between your swollen lips and drags you up, switching your positions until your back hits the metal bleachers.
His lips press against yours, tongue licking into your mouth as his hands slide down your body. One grabs at your ass, kneading the flesh over your skirt, and the other’s fingertips dig into your left thigh. When he starts pulling upward at your leg, you break free from the kiss, confused, but you soon realise what he’s trying to do. Slowly, you lift your leg up, hissing at the burning stretch until your ankle sets on his shoulder.
“Good girl,” Tom whispers, licking your bottom lip, the corner of your mouth, at the drool that slipped past your mouth when it was wrapped around his cock. “Gonna cum in this pretty pussy now, okay? You’ll let me, darling?”
Flushed, your walls clench hard around nothing, whimpering as his hand inches from your thigh towards your sodden underwear, digging into your hip due to your elevated leg. Tom takes one more step closer to you, pressing your leg flush against you, and you suck in a breath as he takes his cock in his fist, watching the veins in his arm and hand as he jerks himself off. You’re plenty wet enough for him to take you without having to finger you, and you mewl as hooks a digit into your panties and pulls them to the side, grabbing his dick again and pressing the tip to your slick folds. He’s so hot and hard against you, a lazy, cocky smirk spreading on his lips as your head falls back with desperation.
Right as you think he’s going to fuck into you, he slides his tip down, your walls clenching erratically around it as he pushes it in, but only the tip. His fist strokes the length faster, pink-tinged cheeks blushing even more, and he crashes his mouth on yours as he lets go, shooting his cum inside you. Panting and moaning in your mouth as your teeth and tongues clash, Tom doesn’t stop jerking himself, tip twitching and pulsing until he’s finished, and he swallows your breathless moans as though he’s starved during the week without you.
“Perfect,” he breathes, wincing as your walls clench around his relaxing cock, “my best girl, you made me feel so good, darling.”
The air hitches in your throat at his admission, your fingers digging in his biceps as he pulls out of you, and you can’t tear your eyes away from him. His pale skin’s flushed with spots of crimson, lips reddened from his teeth and your kisses, hair messy with strands sticking to his forehead, and he’s looking at you like you’ve just given him the world. Delicately, Tom’s hand on your ankle helps you put your leg back down, and he starts slowly massaging your hip from the stretch, mindlessly dropping a sweet kiss to your lips.
Feeling overwhelmed with an onslaught of emotions you can’t—don’t want to figure out, you relax against the objectively uncomfortable stands, gaze stuck on a mole peeking out from the neck of his rosy sweatshirt. “A great day for me to not bring an extra pair of panties,” you mutter, smiling as he chuckles and bumps your nose with his own.
Humming with faux innocence at your joke, Tom’s fingers sneak back under your skirt, swiping along the drenched material covering your pussy. You moan at the contact, looking at him questioningly as one lone digit of his finds your entrance, his cum trickling out of you.
“Don’t wear your little shorts,” he says, thrusting two fingers inside you and pressing his forehead to yours when your mouth falls open with a whimper, “I want nothing hiding my cum in your pussy from your teammates but these messy knickers.”
“Tom, I have to wear the protection—” you start, groaning as his digits gather his cum and fuck them back into you.
“I don’t care,” he grins, nipping at your bottom lip the way he loves to do, “I know you want to. Know you revel in having little mementos of me, you love showing me off without really showing me off.” Capturing your mouth in a slow, passionate kiss, his free hand cups your cheek and caresses your skin just as softly. “I’ll fuck you so good later, knowing any one of those cheerleaders could’ve looked up your skirt during practice and seen my cum in your pretty pussy. Please, darling.”
Breaking apart from the kiss, you let his tongue swirl and licks yours one last time. “Later as in tonight?” You ask, hating the way your face relaxes in his palm instinctively.
Tom nods, hand leaving your sodden panties and lips pursing in a little kiss on the tip of your nose. “I’ll pick you up and we can eat at your place. ‘S that sound good, baby?”
And with a twinge in your chest fighting with a surge of murky hopefulness that fills your heart, you smile and let him interlock your fingers.
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True to his word, Tom arrives fifteen minutes after your cheer practice ends. Having changed out of your uniform and into tights and a regular jumper, you wait for him outside the gymnasium building, chatting for a bit with a couple of teammates before they wish you a good weekend and head off to their bus stop. The sun’s almost done setting, painting the darkening sky with splashes of faint orange, and the wind picks up, making you wrap your arms tight around yourself to find some warmth on this November night. As you’re about to pull out your phone and scroll gratuitously through Twitter, anything to not be stuck with your own thoughts and the deafening realisation that whatever you’re feeling from Tom has deepened into much more than simple sexual attraction, the rumbling of a motor sounds out beside you.
Headlights flashing in the empty street, a motorcycle pulls up in front of you, and your mouth immediately waters like one of Pavlov’s dogs at the sight of him. Tom’s switched out his bubblegum-coloured sweatshirt for a black leather jacket and black shirt, with matching jeans. The thought of him looking through his closet and picking out an outfit specifically to look good while riding his motorcycle fills your chest and pussy with warmth for two different reasons.
Biting back a smile, you approach him, stepping off the sidewalk as you near his parked figure. “You do know it’s night-time, right?” You giggle, pointing at the shades hiding his honey brown orbs, your heartbeat quickening with adoration as he fiddles with his fingers and blushes at being called out.
“It’s for the glare. Car headlights are really bright.” Tom mumbles, huffing as you laugh louder before he rips the sunglasses off his face. “There. Happy, darling?”
For a second, you’re about to respond—yes, so happy, you make me the happiest I’ve been in so, so long, and it makes your throat grow dry with shock at the burst of affectionate honesty you didn’t know you were capable of. Instead of saying any of that, you force out a tense chuckle, which he thankfully doesn’t clock, before you move to get behind him.
“Wait,” he perks up, reaching for a helmet hanging near the front of the bike. His hand reaches for yours as he gets up, and you let him place the helmet over your head slowly. With rapt attention that you hope isn’t too obvious in the low brilliance of the streetlights, you watch as his tongue peeks out between his thin lips, his unruly eyebrows furrowing as he takes his time making sure the helmet’s secured properly around you.
When he’s done, you expect him to sit back down and gesture for you to do the same, but his hands stay on either side of the headgear, and he smiles down at you as though he hasn’t seen you in ages, when it’s only been two hours. He kisses you then, knocking the air out of you despite the gentle way his lips move against yours, the movement so different from the hungry, perfervid kisses he gives you usually. This one is slower, more languid, his lips and his breath and his chest pressed lightly to yours enough to drive you as mad as his starved kisses usually do.
Breaking apart, Tom leaves one more light smooch to your lips, eyes running over your helmet one last time before nodding resolutely, as though his kiss confirmed to him that your helmet will indeed keep you safe now. He takes a seat on the bike, watching you with an amused smile as you snap out of the spell his touch has pulled you under. Clearing your throat, you throw a leg over the seat and settle in behind him, ignoring your own flustered state as you fold your arms his middle. Sturdy and warm, Tom waits for you to tell him you’re reading before he revs the motorcycle, and you squeeze yourself against him when he kicks off.
The drive to your flat only takes ten minutes, but it feels like an endless moment of wind on your skin, in your eyes, and flying, blurry views and the snug comfort of being wrapped around Tom. When he parks back in front of your building, you feel drunk on the breeze and his cologne, your fingers fumbling around with the harness on your helmet. Tom watches you in the little rear-view mirror, grinning as you struggle to get it off your head, and you shut him by enclosing your arms around him once more. Without the constraint of the helmet, you lay your head on his shoulder more comfortably, the cold leather not bothering you as you inch forward to kiss the side of his neck.
“What are you doing?” He breathes, letting his eyes flutter shut.
Planting more long, mellow kisses to his sensitive skin, you reach his earlobe, hands splayed proudly on his thin shirt under the leather jacket. You can feel the ridges and curves of his abs, your fingers drifting lower as you nibble on the shell of his ear. “You’re not the only one who was lonely this past week,” you whisper, licking the spot behind his ear that you’ve just bitten, “although I’m sure you weren’t actually alone.”
You know the dig at his girlfriend’s probably not the most mature or ideal thing to say in this position, but nothing about your and Tom’s relationship has ever felt mature, so you busy yourself with reaching for his zipper instead. He jumps as your hand cups his clothed dick, groaning as he looks around the empty street to make sure no one’s around to see you, yet he remains tense in your embrace despite the deserted pavements and closed windows.
Undoing his button, you slip your hand under his pants for the second time today and bite down on his neck at the twitching of his cock. Tom lets out another stifled moan, fingers holding onto your wrist as you begin to slowly jerk him off, running your thumb over his tip.
“Shit, we really shouldn’t do this there,” he says, tugging your hand off of him and bringing it up to his lip. Much to your surprise, he takes your thumb in between his thin lips, sucking on the drop of precum on your skin, and you leave another kiss beside a fresh hickey on his neck. “Have you eaten anything today?”
Sighing, you try to get off the bike without stumbling, and hand him your helmet as he does the same. “I had breakfast in between classes,” you respond, getting into step with him as you enter the building. His pinkie brushes yours multiple times on the way up to your floor, and you swallow down the bitter taste on your tongue when you realise he’s not going to interlock your fingers casually, just for the sake of it. And why should he? Why were you expecting it just because he cares for you and kissed you like you’re more than a convenient fuck?
By the time you’ve taken your shoes off and closed the door behind you, your mood’s significantly dampened, and you give Tom an uncaring hum when he suggest your favourite takeout place. You head to your room under the excuse of wanting a proper shower after practice, but he catches your wrist on your way, just a step away from the doorframe.
“Hey,” he says, regarding you with confused eyes, “what happened? What’s gotten into you?”
Feeling a surge of anger at him and another, stronger one at yourself for allowing your feelings to get hurt, you shrug, taking your arm out of his hold. “Nothing. I’m recovering from being sick, I’m tired from practice and class, and I just want to feel clean. That’s all.”
The way he looks at you lets you know he doesn’t believe you, hasn’t bought your lazy excuse for suddenly turning on him, and for a second, you’re worried you’re going to have to be honest and tell him about the horrid feeling you get in the pit of your stomach every time you remember he’s not yours, and you’re not his. But it’s Tom, and he’s perhaps even less confident in talking about his emotions than you are, so he just nods, looking to the side for a second and says he’s going to order food while you shower, then. You don’t give him the chance to say anything else before you close your bedroom door behind you.
It would be ridiculous to cry in the shower. It would not only be horrifyingly embarrassing if Tom hears you doing it, but it will also make you feel like utter shit. At least, that’s the unending mantra you play in your head as you take your newly washed towel out of the cabinet, and once more when you’re turning the faucet on. The water’s more hot than warm, but you let it scald your skin and fog up the mirror above the sink, leaning your head down so it can ease the stress on your neck.
You’re barely in there for a couple of minutes when the door creaks open and sock-clad feet shuffle inside. Biting down on your inner cheek, you close your eyes and lather your hair, refusing to look as the plastic ringlets holding your shower curtain up squeak against the bar when Tom steps in behind you. It’s only when the showerhead moves that your eyes, but you hiss and close them again as you remember the very real threat of getting shampoo in them. You feel him chuckling more than you hear it, one hand on your shoulder slowly turning you around to face him as he holds the showerhead and moves it.
That same hand travels up to your hair, washing the soap out and massaging your scalp while doing so. It feels so nice, so comforting, that you let your shoulders sag, and it’s enough for Tom step even closer to you. Caving, your palms find his waist, knowing you can only go so long without craving his skin like oxygen. His lips drop a kiss on your forehead now that you’ve touched him, and you feel him sigh, like a heavy burden’s been lifted off of him at the simple gesture of you putting your hands on his hips.
With the shampoo washed out, Tom makes sure to wash your eyes diligently, then he presses another kiss to your forehead, letting you know you can open them again. He’s naked, which doesn’t surprise you given where you are, but you still feel yourself get just a bit flustered. You clear your throat and reach for your washrag, but he grabs it from your hand, grinning childishly as he fixes the showerhead back in its place.
“This is the best part,” he giggles, cheeks reddening from the steam of the hot water, “now which one of these,” he nods his head towards the bottles sitting idly in their little caddy, “is the one that smells like strawberries?”
Trying to hide your own smile, you pick up the bodywash, and he takes his sweet time lathering it on your rag. You expect him to go straight for your chest or your ass, but Tom runs the cloth along your neck first, then each of your shoulders, a line over your collarbones. He scrubs your arms, your stomach, passes your breasts without making any comments or grabbing them, then asks you to turn around so he can get your back. By the time he’s finished your legs and reaches between them, you’re beyond relaxes, leaning back into his chest comfortably as the water washes away the soap suds and Tom’s touch finds your folds.
You grab onto his wrist, letting out a low moan. “Tommy,” you whimper, looking back at him to see his honey brown eyes already watching your face, “need your touch so bad.”
Digits dipping between your drenched folds, Tom kisses the crook of your neck softly, letting it linger and build, before mumbling in your ear, “Of course, love, anything for you.” He manoeuvres you until your back’s to the wall, and you look down to see him kneeling before you. “Let me make you feel good.”
He spreads your legs far enough apart for his shoulders to fit between then, then starts kissing along the inside of your thighs, nipping the skin teasingly when your legs almost clench tight around his head. Clipping the apex of your right thigh, right next to where you need him most, Tom looks up at you when he feels your fingers filter through his hair, the strands now wet and curly.
“Please,” you whimper, and he bites down on your flesh in response.
Tom drags the flat of his tongue along the inside of your thigh, teeth nipping the same spot, before moving to the other thigh and repeating, his tongue licking so tantalisingly close to where you’re pulsing—practically vibrating, all for him.
“Tommy, please,” you whine, tugging harder on his hair.
You feel almost overstimulated as the tip of his nose barely grazes your folds without fully touching you, before he pounces, dragging his tongue up your slit. The sensation almost makes you scream, slackening your jaw, and you let out a breathless sound of his name. Humming, the tip of Tom’s tongue pushes between your lower lips once he finds your click and flicks against the sensitive bud. At the same time, he throws one of your thighs over his shoulder, the thumb of that arm pulling back the hood on your clit a little more, giving him better access to suck and lick on it.
When he sees your eyes squeeze shut with pleasure, Tom pulls away, using his thumb instead to rub at your clit. “Keep your eyes on me,” he orders, pride filling him as you obey immediately. “Want you to look at me when I make you cum, darling.”
Mewling, you nod feverishly, throwing your head back but keeping your gaze locked on his head between your legs as his lips close around your clit again, thumb pulling the hood back once more. The tip of his tongue flicks it fervently, alternating between these little jabs and swirling the flat of it against your bud.
“Oh,” you pant, body shaking against the wall. You’re sure if it weren’t for his hold on you, you would’ve collapse into a puddle long ago. “Oh, fuck, Tommy, so good—I’m, please, I’m so close.”
He doubles down, sucking on your clit harder, fingers finding your entrance as two, then tree of them dip inside you. It takes but a few thrusts of his thick digits stretching out your walls and his tongue relentlessly lashing and sucking your clit for the coil in your stomach to break, and you let go in his mouth, moaning his name nonstop, as though it’s the only word you remember. Tom doesn’t let go until you’ve ridden the wave and come back on the other side, fingers slowly ever so slightly and lips leaving your clit, letting his thumb tap it instead.
“Shit,” you breathe, arms thrown around his neck when he stands up.
Tom’s circle around your form instinctively, bringing you into his chest as he rubs up and down your back. He gives you time to catch your breath as he washes between your legs, being careful not to hurt your sensitive flesh as he does so. Soon enough, he’s wrapping you in your fluffy towel, taking a spare and throwing it around his waist too, and you busy yourself without kissing along his strong, broad shoulders, revelling in the sweet giggles he lets out at the feeling.
While you’re drying yourself, the doorbells rings with the food delivery, and Tom’s eyes almost pop out of his head as he hurries to get himself back into his boxers and jeans while his legs are still wet.
“Here, just wear this,” you snort, throwing your little yellow robe at him. It’s pretty sheer, and definitely too short on him, but Tom doesn’t even hesitate, shoving his arms through the sleeves and only noticing his predicament after.
“What the—I can’t even wrap this around myself—Y/N.” He whines your name like a child who realised he’s been tricked into eating vegetables so he can he get a cookie.
“Oh, you want me to get pay the pizza guy in a towel then?” You laugh as his expression drops from a pout to a four-dimensional straight-line-mouth emoji, before he grumbles and grabs his wallet.
A part of you wants to sneak your head out and watch the delivery guy’s reaction at a grown man in a see-through, lacey robe, but the tired part of you throws the first sweater you can pull out from your closet over your head and lies down on the bed. It’s so warm and comfortable as you burrow your head in your pillow, and you feel like your brain’s swimming in ecstasy after Tom’s little gift in the shower. If it weren’t for your grumbling stomach and the humiliation of a lifetime you just put him through, you would’ve fallen asleep right then and there.
“Jesus fucking Christ, I’m never ordering Dominos in this country ever again.”
You burst into laughter, face still buried in your pillow, as Tom’s snippy voice enters your room (along with the rest of him, of course). He places the pizza and garlic bread on your desk and flops beside you, groaning in embarrassment as he thrashes around. Amused, you roll onto your side, resting your head on your arm while your free hand takes one of his off his face.
“Come on, it couldn’t have been that bad,” you simper, brushing a few curls off his forehead.
“He called me ma’am.” Tom grumbles with his eyes still closed, setting off another bout of laughter from you. When he opens them, he’s about to retorque, although you can see a flicker of repressed enjoyment in his brown orbs, but his expression dies off once more as he takes you in. Unaware of the sudden shift in his mood, your shoulders keep shaking with a serious case of the giggles, even as he asks you— “What the fuck are you wearing?”
Unphased, you look down, laughter catching in your throat as you clock the jumper you’d thrown haphazardly over your head mere minutes ago. It’s not exactly yours. Vaguely, you remember stealing it from Dylan when he came over once many weeks ago, and it’s not exactly a mystery to remember it’s his, considering his last name is on the back of the football jersey as well as on both sleeves.
“Oh.” You finally utter, looking up at Tom with worried eyes. In the back of your head, your subconscious is yelling at you that you’ve technically got no reason to feel bad or to feel like you’ve done anything wrong—if Tom can have a whole girlfriend, you’re more than allowed to sleep with other men whenever you like. And yet… yet you feel crushed as he gawks at you with a crushed look in his eyes. Gulping, you try to hold your head high regardless, “yeah, this. It’s Dylan’s. He must’ve it left it here the last time he… a while ago.”
Gaze stuck on you for a few more moments that feel fucking endless, Tom finally ends up humming and nodding, sitting up straighter in bed. He reaches over to get the box of food and places it between you wordlessly, fingers tugging on a slice. The rapid, drastic change in atmosphere makes you feel beyond uneasy, but you refuse to let him make you feel bad—more than that, you refuse to actually feel bad. Tom surely didn’t regret parading his girlfriend around campus last week, you remind yourself, nor did he regret talking to me about her for months. I deserve to have a life outside of him—outside of us, too.
In heavy silence, you two eat, although you haven’t got much of an appetite anymore. As you finish your third slice, feeling full, Tom throws the crust of his own against the box and sighs.
“Look,” he starts, rubbing the back of his hand over his eyes as though he’s in physical pain, “I shouldn’t have… that was out of line. I have no right to be mad at you for wearing another guy’s clothes.”
“Yeah, you don’t.” You pipe in, raising an eyebrow at him when he stares at you with a really? Now? look on his face.
“Yeah,” he continues, huffing, “it threw me off a little, I won’t lie. I’m not stupid enough to not have known, or at least thought of you being with other people, because we—well, we’re not exclusive. I don’t deserve to be bothered by it, so… I’m sorry, Y/N. I was an ass.”
As he finishes, you’re stunned into silence, not knowing what shocks you more—the fact that he even apologised and did so sincerely, or that he’s bothered by the thought of you with someone else. For a second, you allow yourself to imagine a scenario in which he uses this opportunity to confess his undying love for you, to bring you close and kiss you senseless and tell you you’re all he’s been able to think about since he met you—not her. You imagine him holding you, telling you he’s choosing you—that he’s been choosing you since he first kissed you, that he wants to be yours and yours alone.
But reality catches up with your freight train of thoughts, and you snap back into you when he says your name a few times. “Right, yeah,” you stutter, avoiding his gaze for a bit before you look back at him, hoping he’s not able to read your emotions as clearly on your face as if you’d painted them on. “Thank you for your apology. To be honest, sometimes—only sometimes—I… sometimes it bothers me, too. That you’re… that you’re with someone else. But, anyway, thanks. Again.”
Tom stares at you, eyes flickering over your face as though he’s trying to figure out a hidden message in the corners of your features, and it makes the breath hitch in your throat. Eventually, he simply grins, though it doesn’t reach his eyes, and he leans forward on his hand, “I know a way I can make it up to you for being a douchebag.”
His comment brings a snort out of you, one that turns into full-blown laughter, and you shake your head as you let him bring you into his lap. “God, your horniness knows no bounds.”
Shoulders shaking under your hands with his own chuckles, Tom’s nose rubs against yours, “I wouldn’t call it horniness, I prefer to say it’s just my natural appreciation for you.”
“Oh, shut up,” you roll your eyes, your mouth finding his own.
This time feels different than all of the other ones, but you can’t place your finger on why. It goes by similarly, nothing out of the ordinary and nothing that doesn’t make the both of you feel good, but it’s still not the same. Maybe it’s the way Tom pulls the jersey over your head and throws it almost violently across the room, throwing you a look as you giggle at his dramatic antics. Maybe it’s the way he lays you down underneath him and kisses the pendant of his dog tags, which lies right over your heart. Maybe it’s that he intertwines your hands together as he fucks you—new—and whispers the same words that drive you crazy in your ear, but this time Tom’s voice is softer, warmer, familiar in a homey way that’s new.
When you’re done much later, Tom crawls under the covers with you, arm thrown over your pillow to urge you to cuddle into his chest, and you do happily. His heartbeat’s loud under your ear, your fingers drawing much of nothing across his tummy while his hand caress your arm, his other one, the one thrown over your shoulder, stays still.
As you’re about to fall asleep, it feels as though a bomb’s started ticking in your chest, the words of its explosion weighing immensely heavily on your tongue. You don’t know what drives you to do it, only that if you don’t, you’re going to crumble in his hug, and neither one of you will be able to put the pieces back together.
Hesitantly, you look up, seeing Tom’s eyes are closed, but you know from his breathing that he’s still awake. When you say his name, he hums, eyelids fluttering open lazily. “Why…” you start, not even knowing where to begin, “why do you do this?”
“Do what? Fuck you within an inch to your life regularly?” He snorts, tightening his hold on you as he laughs at his own joke. At your silence, his smile falls, and he looks deeply into your eyes as though the next words you’re about to say are in there.
“What do you do this to yourself, to Myriam, to… to me?” You whisper, holding the covers close to your chest as you sit up slightly, your back against the headboard.
Tom watches you for what feels like forever, but is probably not more than a minute, before he shits as well. “I… I don’t know.”
“Why don’t you leave her?” The words feel poisonous as they roll off your tongue, like you’re taking more than you’re allowed—stealing something that will never be yours.
“I love Myriam.” Tom responds almost immediately, his throat drying up at the way your gaze falls from his to your fiddling fingers. “I’ve loved her for most of my life. The first time I even knew what liking a girl was, it was when I liked her. Her family and mine have been close since before I was born, our—our mums have been basically planning our wedding since we were fourteen. I don’t… I don’t know who I am if I’m not her boyfriend. We’re destined to be together; I know that.”
Struggling to keep the tears pooling in your eyes at bay, you bring your knees up to your chest. “What do you want, though?” You ask, voice barely heard in the stillness of your bedroom. “Just you—not destiny, not your mother, not Myriam—what makes you happy? What do you love, Tom?”
The sheets rustle as he moves, sliding out from under them as he slides to sit in front of you. Shakingly, Tom places a hand over your clasped ones, and you look up at him, no longer scared of him seeing the shine in your eyes. “I…” he breathes, rubbing circles on your knuckle, “I love the bobblehead Thor figure in your car. I love the work-out playlist you made me. I love the notes you write just for me when I can’t make it to class and I love that I never asked you, you just did it out of the kindness of your heart once and kept doing it. I love smelling your shampoo on my pillow,” he pauses, almost as breathless as you, and brings your hand up to his mouth, pressing a slow kiss to your palm, “almost as much as I love waking up to you still sleeping on it.”
Cheeks wet with tears that have started falling freely, you raise your free hand to cup his cheek, thumb rubbing along his soft skin. “Do you…” you stutter, suddenly unable to find the air you need to ask him the one question you’ve been dying to ask, “do you love me?”
“Maybe. Probably… yes.” Tom breathes, palm placed over your own that holds his face. In mere nanoseconds, you’re submerged in joy, your chest expanding to take every breath you’ve been deprived of since you started agonising over the man you love being with someone else. Yet just as quickly as you’ve lost yourself in elation, he speaks up again. “But I don’t—I don’t want to disappoint anyone; I can’t afford to disappoint my family again. I can’t break Myriam’s heart, Y/N.”
Like glass shattering, the faint smile that’s been playing on your lips crumbles, and you hear your heart thud to a stop in your ears. For a moment, you remain silent, replaying the words he’s just said to you. Finally, when you can speak, you stare into Tom’s eyes as you do, “But you can break mine?”
He almost turns into stone under your touch, honey brown irises hardening with pain, and you scoff. “Y/N…” he whispers, but you take your hand off of him and clamber to get up.
Out of bed, you wrap your arms around your nude chest, looking alarmingly around your room until you find the jersey he threw off of you not too long ago, and you put it back on, fingers trembling. Tom gets up as well, staring at you with wide eyes like he is no longer able to anticipate your movements before you make them.
“Y/N, please try to understand—”
“Get out.” You utter, wrapping your arms around yourself like a shield.
Tom’s hand flies to his chest as though he’s been wounded, and he steps towards you, reaching for you like he doesn’t know how. “Please, just listen—”
“No.” You speak louder, shaking your head until you’re reminded of the light weight around your neck. Like you’re seeing red, you rip his necklace from your throat and throw it at his feet. “Leave now. Just go, Tom. I don’t—I don’t want to see you. Please—go.”
At the crack in your voice, his eyes squeeze shut, and his arms fall by his side. Swallowing harshly, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, Tom nods and look away, moving to gather his clothes. You can feel him spare one last look at you as he’s almost breached the doorway of your bedroom, but you turn around, not wanting him to see you sob any more than he already has.
The door to your apartment clicks shut behind him and, as fast and devastative as he’d entered your life, Tom leaves it. You don’t bother showing up to practice again.
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oof....
WELP lmao hope you enjoyed!! i definitely did :D as you can tell, i really missed writing some good ole heartbreaking angst and i be writing filthy smut all the time so that was a pleasure as usual lmao. buwygf was a lot of work but also a lot of fun so please please please let me know your thoughts <3
as usual, my taglist and masterlist are in my pinned post and bio along with the rest of my navigation. have a splending sunday <3
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