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#tom holland au
hollandsmushroom · a day ago
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Hanging out with tom and the boys and it's the first time since your pregnancy that you decide to wear something that... well, shows your tits, and they are quick to notice how much bigger they look and one of the boys is like: "are those new??? I mean... your glasses ofc"
Nice Glasses || T.H.
warnings: mentions of pregnancy and boobs
word count: 759
I went a very slightly different direction with it hehe! hope you like it!
It was the first time that you were getting together since you had given birth. You and Tom have needed some time to recover and rest and bond with your beloved baby boy. Newborns aren’t easy, in fact they are the exact opposite but the moment that the 3 of you got home from the hospital you knew that this was the best thing to ever happen to you. It was worth the sleepless nights and the sore nipples, the stretch marks that now spread their fingers across the expanse of your belly was something that you looked at kindly now, they were a reminder of the fact that you grew the being that was currently screaming in the other room. You hadn’t been dressed in anything more than sweatpants and a tank top since you had given birth, and there was no way that was changing just because the boys were coming over.
So there you stood in your white tank top with your low hanging spit up stained pajama bottoms with a small child pressed to your hip, her chubby cheeks rubbing against your tender breast as she garbbled happily. There was a soft knock on the door that caught your attention, disrupting your slight bouncing that you had been doing to soothe your baby.
“Tommy! They're here!” you called out to your husband who was standing in the other room trying to tame his crazy curls that had gone uncared for for far too long, the baby taking all your time for self care.
“Alright!” he shouted back, making his way to the door and opening it, many calls of joy and excitement and hands clapping on backs as the boys filed into the room.
“Y/N!” a chorus of your name erupted from over your shoulder and put a smile on your face as you turned to face them.
“Boys!” you exclaimed as you saw them, they stood clustered together in the doorway, shoulders pressed together as they stood anxiously awaiting permission to come and look at the brand new family. “Come on in! Meet the newest and best Holland” you chided, a joke that went unnoticed by all but Tom because all of the boys were too infatuated about the baby, running to your side and bending down to inspect her chubby cheeks and her twinkling brown eyes.
“Hey, I thought I was the best Holland!” he exclaimed jokingly. “No, I agree with Y/n, this girl right here is definitely the best '' Harry chuckled, laughing slightly as your little girl wrapped her fist tight around his extended finger that had been going to poke her little belly.
It went on like that for a little while, all of the boys fawning over your bundle of joy until you passed her off to Tuwaine, she looked absolutely tiny in his arms and it was the funniest thing you had seen in a long time but the smile on his face as he looked down at the girl was something so heartwarming and beautiful, a moment that Harry just had to ruin.
“Y/n...there is something different about you” he commented without thinking, his eyes trained directly at your breasts, a fact that did not go unnoticed by Tom but went completely over your head because you were too invested in watching Tuwaine hand off your baby to Same.
“Well things change after you give birth, is it the fact that all of my hair is falling out now? Cause there are so many things that happen to you when you are pregnant and you just feel like that must be the new you but then you give birth and the luxurious head of hair you had grown is reverting back to what it was before” you spoke, hints of spite towards your body in your tone.
“No no, it's definitely not that” Harrison chimed in, his eyes also staring directly at your chest.
“Boys!” Tom’s voice cut in, his tone one of warning as he eyed his best friends and brothers. “Watch yourselves now” His subtle threat caught Paddy’s attention, immediately trying to dispel the fact that they had all been blatantly oggling your swollen boobs.
“Um, your glasses, you got new glasses!” he exclaimed but it only earned him an elbow in the ribs from Sam.
“They aren’t wearing any fucking glasses!” he spoke through gritted teeth.
“Oh fuck”
“‘Oh fuck’ indeed” Tom’s voice came from behind you as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you back into his chest.
♡Taglist♡ Join the gang
@iluvdeja @quaksonhehe @lovehollandy12 @thollandneedy @prancerrparkerr @parkerpeter24 @hollandsour @evermoreholland @spidey-sophie @harmqnia @thehumanistsdiary @samaraaaaa @itscaminow @alinastarkrovs @marvelsbitch8 @celestialholland @kasidy409 @parkerdarling @scarletspideyy @capital-koreasofia @marvelhasmyheart235 @hackerholland @tom-softie @hollandsjen @tomhollandsbitch8 @bi-lmg07 @peterbarkerlmao @reawritesthings @tomsholland2412 @lowkey-holland @cocoamoonmalfoy @tomhollandlol @vintageobx @elishi03 @spooky-season-bitch @hollandsvogue @idkseraphine @cloudyfeel @mcushvft @rory-cakes @nithikaa26 @hiraethenthusiast @marajillana @nocturnalms @kasidy709 @thirlwallsholland @elenapatricia99 @marvelgurl @the-girl-in-the-chair @spideyspeaches @cloudyfeel @wildxwidow @rednailea
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holland24-7 · 13 hours ago
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I’m doing good I’m on some new shit. PART 6 (Social Media AU)
Tom Holland x Reader.
SUMMARY: One where y/n and Tom dated but broke up and she’s finally moving on after months of suffering.
tomholland2013✓
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tomholland2013 ✓ Welcome to our life’s Nicola and Tommy, mom and dad can’t wait to meet you guys 28.08.2022 ❤️
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yourinstagram ✓ Our babies 🥰
zendaya ✓ this is actually happening! 😭
harryholland64 ✓ can’t believe you actually knocked y/n up ...
y/nandtomforever Omggggg I knew he was the father, I just want to cry!
dailymail ✓
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9,114,910 likes
dailymail ✓ Y/N AND TOM ARE HAVING TWINS! So you all, after the shocking revelation y/n did a month ago in her Instagram it felt like we were not going to find out who the father was, however today came out an interview with Tom for Vogue Magazine PLUS he took to Instagram also to welcome his babies posting a picture of him hugging y/n showing the ultrasound and looks like no, it’s not just one, there’s TWO babies on the way. Tom also revealed on his Instagram and interview the names they have in mind for them, Nicola and Thomas. This is what he revealed: “When y/n first told me I couldn’t believe it! I thought she was joking around, then she showed me the pregnancy test and I cried like a baby {...} We found out they were twins a couple of weeks ago and we couldn’t be more excited, I can’t wait to meet them. Y/n obviously is freaking out, but we’re (Tom, y/n's mom and Tom's mother) taking good care of her.” When asked about the names he said: "We haven’t told anyone this, but we want to call the baby girl Nicola in honor of my mother y/n came up with the idea and my mother also cried when she told her. For the baby boy y/n wants to call him Thomas, like father like son I guess [laughs]. I’ve never been of the idea of having my kid named after me, but when y/n told me she wanted to name him like his dad I couldn’t say no, I couldn’t resist the idea of a little Tommy.”
Now this is not the most shocking part of this interview, you guys could say that after being on and off for some time now a pregnancy would be something that would bring this two together (for good now!) but it looks like we were wrong. Tom was also very open about his relationship with the mother of his unborn babies, quote: “No, we’re not together... people lives with the idea of having to label things, but to be honest what y/n and I have is something I can’t even describe, I love her, she’s going to be the mom of my kids! We spend every moment that we can together, but I respect her decision of not being a what you could say a “couple”. As long as it works I’m okay with it, and so far it works.”
On the other end y/n also spoke about this in an interview, here’s what she said about the whole situation: “Of course it wasn’t planned! You know? Sometimes you’re doing everything right and this things can still happen, it took both of us by surprise, but I couldn’t be happier, I think he’s going to be a great dad. Even now he’s always taking care of me and when he’s not doing that he’s talking to my belly or caressing it.” And this is what she said about her relationship with Tom: “I just think that everything has been crazy for me the last couple of years, I need and want the stability that so far I have reached and I don’t need someone to come and mess it up, not that Tom would do that, but I don’t want to risk it, specially not now that my main focus are my babies. He’s the father of my kids and that’s not gonna change never, he’s always around and I hope that we can be good parents for these babies, I just want to have a healthy co-parenting relationship ... for now.”
Listen we live and love for y/n, but we’re not the only ones confused about the whole situation right? It feels like we’ve been like that for almost two years now with her and we just can’t help to keep wondering if we’re ever going to figure everything out, but oh well, guess only time will tell, see you on the next one and don’t forget to tell us what you think in the comments. (Pictures Tom Holland for Vogue Magazine)
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hollander90 Wow okay, they just have such a weird dynamic but somehow it works
tommybro. Not going to lie, I feel like he deserves so much better, someone who’s ACTUALLY convinced to be with him
tom&y/nupdates we’ll have to wait and see what happens
yourinstagram ✓
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yourinstagram ✓ Can’t believe you guys are almost here 28.08.2022 ❤️ (📸 by @harryholland64)
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tomholland2013 ✓ STUNNING 😍
bellahadid ✓ I can’t wait to see you, be there soon!
hazosterfield ✓ hey fatty, looks like you about to explode, guess we should blame Tom for that huh?
y/nno1fan ❤️❤️❤️
youcantblameme i still can’t believe you guys are becoming parents soon, you’re so young!
hazosterfield ✓
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Liked by tuwaine, harryholland64 and 10,891,483 others.
hazosterfield ✓ If someone has seen @tomholland2013 please send him right away, he needs to be the one holding her hand! 🤯
zendaya ✓ AHHHHHHHHHHH!
tuwaine ✓ I’m panicking and I’m not even the dad, can’t imagine how Tom is doing ...
spideyismine SHE IS IN LABOR, SHE IS IN LABOR!
bellsasha i just hope they look like Tom 😭
harryholland64 ✓
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Liked by tomholland2013, zendaya, dommoholland and 9,018,892 others
harryholland64 ✓ For everyone asking, this dumbass made it, good because if not y/n would’ve killed him. Welcome to the world Nicola and Tommy, so proud to be your uncle xx ❤️
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dommoholland ✓ @nikkihollandphotography we’re grandparents!
nikkihollandphotography Tell y/n I love her and I’ll be there in the morning, can’t wait to meet Tommy and Nicola 💕
tomisthebesttt Not Tom going to the birth of his kids in his Spider-Man suit 😭
zendaya ✓ He was in the middle of filming!
tomholland2013 ✓
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Liked by yourinstagram, dommoholland, hazosterfield and 22,823,089 others
tomholland2013 ✓ Thank you @yourinstagram for making me a dad and the happiest man on earth, I love you ❤️
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yourinstagram ✓ Thank you for giving me these beautiful kids, love you Tommy, forever and always 💙
y/nandtomforever how can ppl say they’re not made for each other? 😭
noturaveragegirl okay am i the only one crying over here?
yourinstagram ✓
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Liked by tomholland2013, selenagomez, gigihadid and 23,0183,992 others
yourinstagram ✓ Welcome to the world Nicola and Tommy Holland, mom and dad love you both so much. 28.08.2022 ✨
Thank you all for the love and support you’re sending us! We had two healthy babies and I’m doing okay, hopefully I’ll be home soon! ❤️
tomholland2013 ✓ 💙
selenagomez ✓ congratulations my beautiful y/n, let us know when we can go to meet them xx
bellahadid ✓ Can’t wait time hold them, even if they look like @tomholland2013 😛 sending you guys so much love
samholland1999 Harry can say whatever he wants, I bet I’ll be their favorite uncle
yourinstagram ✓ 😉😉😉
A/N: Hey everyone first of all thanks for the patience and the support you have given this series! Life has been crazy, I’ve been super busy at work, I wanted to update since yesterday but I got out of work super late, and when I finally did I had to fight with a bunch of people to be able to purchase tickets for a Coldplay world tour, good thing is I WAS ABLE TO GET THEM SO YAY! 💕 Anyway, thank you so much for the feedback I’ve been receiving and of course the nice messages you send me saying how much you love this, I really appreciate it, hope you all enjoy this! LAST BUT NOT LEAST, THIS HASNT BEEN PROOFREAD SO EXCUSE ANY TYPOS.
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vendettaparker · a day ago
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HUGE announcement
so, i have a new series in the works! it’s prince/king!tom and princess/queen!reader. it’s enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, all the at jazz.
but. the twist is: it’s gonna be a choose your own adventure style!
so, after each chapter, i’ll have a poll on what choice y/n or tom should make. collectively you guys will vote and that will keep the story going.
these votes won’t necessarily lead to a good or bad ending, but it will change dialogues and scenes.
this is heavily inspired by @venomsilk smaus! they are so wonderful and i highly recommend them 💗
i’d consider this series a mix between Game of Thrones and Reign (two amazing series that i highly recommend watching!)
the first poll is HERE and it’s for the title!
first chapter won’t be out for a while, i have classes and work rn, so i’m pretty busy, but with my free time, i will be mostly working on this series and a a few other little things.
if you’d like here is my taglist!
if you want to be tagged in just this series, please lmk on the taglist in the option for TWs
sneak peek at prologue ☟ (y/n is 8 in this scene and tom and dahlia are 10) ︎
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
“It is his fault!” You yelled, clawing at your mother’s arm, trying to break free, “He ruined everything! The moment he showed up, he ruined my life—” 
Crack! Hot and quick like lightning your mother struck you on the cheek, “Don’t you dare say another word or it’ll be another!” She yelled at you. You immediately ceased your squirming. Dahlia gasped, but quickly held a hand over her mouth and bit her tongue when your mother narrowed her eyes at her. 
“Martha!” Your mother called to the chambermaid that accompanied her to the garden, “take (Y/N) to her chambers. I think that’s enough fresh air for her today.” 
Martha, a young girl, no older than sixteen, nodded and took your hand. You held the other one to your burning cheek, trying to suppress your sobs as they rose in your throat. 
Your mother turned back to Dahlia and the boys and gave them the best smile she could muster, “Dahlia, dear. Why don’t you and the boys go to the stables? I’m sure Ser Edric would gladly take you riding.” 
“Yes, Mother,” Dahlia said, taking Thomas’ hand and leading him and the boys away. 
“I-I didn’t mean to get in trouble,” Thomas whispered as they left the garden, “I didn’t know—” A look of complete shock was etched on his face. 
“She’ll be fine,” Dahlia dismissed, “I’ll take her some pastries later. She’ll be okay.” 
“She won’t forgive me, will she?” Thomas asks, watching through the window you were passing, Martha holding you close to her chest as you cried. 
“No,” Dahlia agreed, “she won’t.”
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
✧tags & moots✧ PERM
@ptersmj @princessofguineapigs @peterbenjiparker @cherrytholland @itsapeterthing @justapurrcat @kelieah @iovebug @celestialholland  @hollandcrush @scarletspideyy @blissfulparker @spidernerdsblog @spideyspeaches @andilovetowrite @sinisterspidey @hollandsdream @annathesillyfriend @lovelybarnes @white-wolf1940 @wierdteenagenerd @arvinsescape @super-not-naturall @allthisfortommy @selfcarecap @misshale21 @morganwilliams @loveaffaire @tomfknholland @pogueslandia @tomshufflepuff @aayaissaa @micaelaf05 @hallecarey1 @a-daydreamers-day @holland-styles @cloudyfeel @peni5parker @slut-for-steve-rogers @vavilip @kitkatt18-blog @kitkat2015-blog @bookfrog242 @slutforfics @wildxwidow  @hollandswife @writesforholland @prancerrparkerr @petesrparker @arlo-sanders @sxuxgarplxum @peter-parkers-gf @namoreno @niallberry @iaminlovetomhollandmarvel @1-800-lov3r @bisexualdragongirl @xoxokiaraaxoxo @hollandsvogue-blog @hallecarey1 @marvelobsessed10031917 @z3ndaya-blog @swiftnmarvel @sunflowerfive @yunho-leeknow @xxxstormyninixxx @marvelhasmyheart235 @kierstiniscrying @lowkey-holland @blahblahblah-boo @nocturnalms @happyt0exist @kpostedsum @noemiix1 @spideymix @mischieftom @sophi54 @allazay101 @samsanchez857 @spideybrina @runawaywithmyghost @rqmanoff @oxyparker @rory-cakes @parkerdarling @samaraaaaa @yuh-bitchh @freds-slut @gingerbreadgodofhyperdeath @spideymixmain @blue-4-55-readinglist @camrenrodrigoswift 
✧tags & moots✧ TOM HOLLAND
@harryhollandsgirlfriend @hollandlover19 @teenwishes08 @bradtomlovesya | @worldoftom @hollandsrecs @theonly1outof-a-billion @thevelvetseries @moonchild-s-blog @ottitt @lmaotshollandd @mcu-spiderman @tomhollandlol
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blissfulparker · 2 days ago
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Request
Oooo I love ur mobTom x sensitive reader fic, could you do a part two except it’s about when the reader was on her period and got emotional over an animal shelter video please? I feel like that would be really cute. But you don’t have too
Tom was not stupid. Tom was not stupid, he knew girls had periods, he knew they hurt and they mixed hormones. He knew that some girls had longer weeks while others had shorter.
He did not know how to handle these emotions though. He typically left you alone, locking himself in his office to avoid the madness knowing you’d call if you needed him. Besides, this was very new to him.
“Good afternoon my darling—what’s wrong?” His voice going from cheery to worry as you sit on the couch whilst a movie played.
“Nothing, it’s nothing.” You sniffle as you watch the ad that played between the show of the local shelter in desperate need of adoption.
“Well, it’s obviously not nothing.” He came around to the couch and sat next to you. Wrapping his arms around you and you fall into his chest. “Love, you have to tell me what it is for me to help.”
“It’s just…it’s just no one is adopting those Animals Tom! I mean…look at them, they just showed the cutest puppy and the cats were adorable. I know you don’t like cats but please, think about it. I-I looked it up and they’re a high kill rate shelter too! We need to do something!” You cry and whilst you were sobbing, he looked at his surroundings for once.
Sour patch kids, green tea that was half way gone, popcorn and most importantly there was the wire to a heating pad hanging out from the blanket. Period, how could he possibly forget.
“Darling, I’m sure those animals are going to great—“ he starts and you move away from him. Now looking at him like it’s his fault. Now he worried.
“No, you don’t understand tom. Those animals will be killed if no one helps them. This house is big enough for at least 10 dogs and 10 cats.” You argue and toms eyes go wide. He knows better than to argue back, he’s been doing that all days anyways. He needed a break too.
“I will think about us getting another dog…or maybe a cat. But for now, let me get you more tea.” He offered and shake your head as you fall back into his lap.
He nearly rolled his damn eyes as the horror movie went back to playing before you. How was it you wanted to be scared and sad at the same time? He did not know. In fact, he knew even though it was horror you would still cry when the killer is caught or whatever may happen.
For now he holds you, kisses your forehead occasionally and makes you laugh with silly stories from his day. You tell him the name you think about for dogs, the comfort a cat would bring even though he hates them.
He gives you whatever you need, whatever makes you feel better in the moment as he gives you everything you need and want.
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Text
rakes | chapter three
pairing: regency!Harrison Osterfield x regency!reader
words: 3.4k
warnings:  bridgerton s1 spoilers, bridgerton semi season 2 spoilers (mainly book ish ones), swearing?
a/n: not me showing up like 2 months later with a chapter lol... I've been busy I just got a new job though and life in general has been crazy! hope you all enjoy
Please Reblog and Comment if you enjoy!
series masterlist
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Lady Whistledown Society Papers
Grosvenor square 1814,
Dear Reader,
To be perfectly poised is every Mama’s goal for her daughter, and every daughter’s goal, to keep the vicious claws of their mama’s off of their backs. 
Today is the day where all are anticipating the results from the gaze of the Queen and her judgements. Today We will find out if any daughter has exceeded the expectation.
Last year was the shortcomings of the Featheringtons, but maybe one of the three shall rise above my very low expectations this year. Or perhaps, the younger sister of the previous year’s diamond of the first water, Miss Eloise Bridgerton.
My expectations, however, could lie in a former diamond of the first water, however, one could say she spent her time outside of society with the hogs, so how could one be ready to come back into the Ton’s rigorous assumptions of one Miss Y/n.
We however have a few new notable ladies who could take the running this year.
Miss Zendaya Coleman, a distant cousin of the Viscount Holland is heard to be in the runnings this year, and from what I’ve heard dear reader she is not only poised but dashingly stunning. 
Only time will tell which of the Ton are the most esteemed members, and whom falls short of those graces. 
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For the longest time, you had always been excited to be in society. The lavish parties and interaction with the most esteemed members of the ton was something to look forward to, yet here you were, experiencing the worst part of being a part of the ‘club’. Being introduced into society before the queen. You were the diamond of the first water three seasons ago, yet now it seemed hopeless to match up to your past self.
You were a different person before the tragedy happened. Now you were broken into a thousand pieces, trying to pick them up in front of society’s judging eyes.
You had arrived at your home early the morning of, and William was late, per usual for your coming out into society. 
Your maids, Lucy and Marian, we’re currently putting on your corset, getting the tightness perfect, almost as if they had done it for you every season you missed. 
“Is it too tight Lady Y/n?” Marian asks.
“No, it is perfect, thank you,” you reply.
You stare at the flame of the fire your maids had put on for warmth, reminiscing of that night.
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“Mama isn’t it just wonderful?” you say in excitement, in awe at the candle-lit glow in the room, filled with music, talking and laughing. 
Your Papa checked his watch, waiting on William, before turning to you, smiling, watching his daughter full of life.  You and William’s happiness were the only things that mattered to him, and at this moment, he knew you would be okay because no matter what happened, you would find the love of your life, and happiness through that. 
Your parents knew you would never settle, whether becoming a spinster waiting for your happiness or finding love that night, they knew in your strong will, you always wanted what they had. 
“Lady Y/n, how about a dance?” Lord Dennis asked. You looked back at your parents, full of bliss, graciously accepting his offer, heading to the dance floor. That was one of the proudest and last moments they would see you full of joy.
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You shake off the thoughts of that night, not dwelling on the past, but the present day. 
As you get into your white gown, you wondered what it would be like if you did get married this season, all dressed in white, walking down the alise of the church towards your future husband. You only had wished your parents could have been there, but you were grateful you still had William, unbeknownst of where he was at the current moment. 
William on the other hand was out currently at the Brigerton’s gentlemen’s club, drinking to ease the sorrows of this day. It had been marked on this day three years since his adoptive parents had passed. They were the only true family he had known, and the responsibility they let him was hard. He had to make certain of not only finding his sister a husband, but a wife later down the line, and making sure that his father could never take what was not his. Whether born a Beaumont or not, didn’t matter. He would never truly have the Beaumont values, ones that Willam was raised with.
William never in a million years thought himself worthy of being Earl of Beaumont, but here he was, holding the title. He thought for sure by the end of Y/n’s first season you would have been wed and have children of your own to take that title. But everything changed after that night.
William could not fathom that the cause was accidental, so he was still searching for what truly happened. So far most of his leads left him empty until he met with the doctor who did the autopsy on both of your parents, leading him to the conclusion that this was no accident. He hadn't old you yet knowing that would take you out of the season, so he kept it to himself until the season end, But he was going to find out who murdered your parents no matter the cost.
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You had just arrived at the queen’s palace, searching the busy crowd outside for William. 
“I’m sure he will arrive, Lady Y/n,” Lucy assures you.
As if on cue, William rides up on horseback. He hops off, giving the reins to one of your staff, extending his hand out towards you. 
“You’re late, Willy.” You say, slightly frustrated.
“Sorry Y/n/n, I had some important business to attend to.” And though, It wasn’t a complete lie, he did have to drown himself in his feelings and ponder about what happened, and who to interview next.
Your face scrunches up, as those who arrive, point, look and laugh at you. 
“Do not fret what the treacherous Whistledown has written. We will prove the writer wrong today.” William tries to encourage you.
It didn’t make you feel much better. Today was the worst and most judgmental day of your life thus far.
Once inside, you found your way near the Sharma’s and the Cowpers.
You can hear the whispers of Cressida and her mother, Araminta, mainly talking about you and what Lady Whistledown wrote of you.
William was fed up, almost going to confront them before Kate Sharma steps in mentioning,
“Maybe the two of you should focus on yourselves. I’m certain that you both would rather not have any sort of prince slipping through your fingers this year.” they scoff and go to fix Credssia’s hair, and outfit.
You mouth a “thank you” as that seems to shut them up about you at least. She nods at you giving a genuine smile. 
The waiting felt like agony, seeing one girl from the next go in with their families, all hoping to be the queen’s favourite. 
Before you go, there is someone you haven’t met before, with someone your brother is talking to. 
“Presenting Miss Zendaya Coleman Presented by her cousin the right honourable, The Viscount Holland,” the presenter says.
So that is whom your brother was conversating with. Lady Whsitledown was right about one thing, Zendaya was stunning.
Next was your turn, to be presented to the queen. You were quite literally shaking, only to be calmed down by William, putting his hand over your quivering one.
“It will be alright, no matter what happens,” he whispers in your ear. 
You nod, then focus your attention back onto the door and path ahead of you.
“Presenting Miss Y/n Beaumont, Presented by the right honourable The Earl of Beaumont.”
The doors are pulled open and you start making your way down, the pressure of the whole world on your shoulders. You look around slightly, around halfway towards the queen, before locking eyes with icy ones, seeming to have the same expression on your face as he did. You had met him before, at the Inn. 
You were sidetracked before stumbling slightly, internally wishing he had not have been there. William had at least stabilized you so you didn’t fall before you continued the rest of the way. The queen at least didn’t seem bored with you, nodding in approval, before on to the next girl. 
You were disappointed in yourself, to say the least, but you were relieved she didn’t respond how she responded to the Feathrington ladies last year, according to the gossip.
After the whole scenario, it was time to get ready for the infamous Brigertion masquerade ball.
You were dressed up as a swan, your house crest. It was simple yet stunning in your opinion, you only wished your outfit for the night would have been the queen’s impression of you.
You put on the final touch, your mask, before heading out with William.
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“You do realize you’re not dressed up for the occasion Willy! You have but only a mask!” you remark getting into the carriage, seeing his outfit that was the same as he’d wear to a regular ball.
“Well, you’re the one who’s supposed to shine tonight!” He mentions laughing. 
You roll your eyes at him playfully.
“Well, you need to find someone one day,” you mumble softly.
He shakes his head laughing, “My attention is for your happiness only, Y/n.”
You’re about to rebuttal until the short carriage ride comes to an end, with your arrival at your destination. You bid your thanks to your staff, getting out of the carriage, before admiring the people through the window, before putting on your mask, being led by William inside.
You gaze at the whole place, almost feeling the stares at you, watching as the ton gossips about you which you hoped only good things but expected bad nonetheless.
You start walking in with your arm linked to Williams tightly. He knew when you to anxious.
“Let’s focus on the party, not the people” William mentions, patting your hand gently.
You take a deep breath in, standing up taller, and smiling with grace.
“Beaumont!” a familiar voice shouts coming closer.
You turn to see none other than Anthony Bridgerton, coming to greet your brother. 
“It’s good to see you!” he mentions, patting his back.
“Could I go get some lemonade, I’m quite parched,” you ask, knowing the two friends would want to catch up.
“Yes, Go, Y/n.” he smiles, knowing your mouth got dry when overwhelmed. 
You head over, to the lemonade, with a man already standing there, with a woman. 
He looks up, and you recognize the man and the lady from earlier. It was the viscount Holland and his cousin Zendaya.
“I think I know you, right?” the lady speaks up, smiling at you. 
“Yes, it is, I believe we haven’t been formally introduced. I’m Y/n, and you are?”
“I’m Zendaya, and this is my cousin, Tom.”
He smiles at you with warmth, almost a comfort to him.
“Ah, the Viscount Holland, in Lady Whistledown, I presume,” you mention almost in a playful mocking matter.
“I could say the same to you, Lady Y/n Beaumont.”
Zendaya nudges Tom slightly, motioning to you. He whispers an ‘ow’ to her.
“I believe my cousin, wants me to ask you to dance.” he chuckles. 
“Well, I accept.” you simile kindly.
He extends his hand, and you grab it, feeling his clammy, yet warm hand in yours.
“You do not have to be nervous… is it alright if I call you Tom?”
He nods, “Only if I can call you Y/n.” he smiles, almost feeling that he held the warmth of a hearth of a crackling fireplace.it was comforting possibly could be a home out of the man.
He leads you to the almost empty dance floor, being one of the first to dance with each other. You can see William surprised from the sidelines, yet nodding at you in approval.
You begin dancing with the man, realizing his talent of dancing. 
“You are a good dancer,” you say going in a circle with your hands extended to each other, almost touching.
“My mother made sure I was taught well.” he smiles.
You felt comfortable in the conversation, almost like getting to know a new friend. 
“Well, my mother made sure I had more skills like pianoforte and embroidery, so I might step on your toes, sir,” you mention, jokingly.
“You’re doing swell. You must have more talent than you expect ma’am.” he chuckles.
You giggle back before the dance ends. You both bow at each other, realizing the ton was pointing and gossiping about something else than your past. 
You spend the evening dancing a second time with Tom, surely stirring up some lady Whistledown gossip.
You rest after another dance with Lord Hardy but felt that he was too, boastful to try to dance with him again.
You stand with Penelope Featherington and Elosie, laughing about suitors and especially, the vicious mama’s near the balcony. 
“I cannot believe, Lord Hardy Danced with you! He is so… self-involved.” Eloise mentions, remembering last season when he danced with Daphne. 
“Well, I think Credssia and him would be a perfect match!” you laugh looking over at him talking to her and her mama. You all giggled.
Penelope’s mother, summoned her over, towards her, aggressively motioning her to come hither. 
“I think I must go, it was nice speaking with you again, Y/n,” she mentions, heading over to her mother after bidding her goodbyes and good lucks.
You gaze over the ballroom, before you both land your eyes on one of the diamonds of the season, Edwina Sharma, talking to Anthony, before Kate interrupts almost livid.
“I think I should help my dear brother out. We shall talk later,” she mentions, heading off towards him.
 You nod, turning around, and the balcony catching your eye.
There were a few people outside, so you decided to head out, and catch your breath from all the social interaction. It was quite overwhelming, especially as it was all under the expectation of getting married. 
You took a deep breath, leaning over the balcony, inhaling the fresh air. You take off your mask, staring at it. The whole thing of society was a charade, to keep people confined into a social construct of what men wanted for women, Wives and heirs. 
Was that the only meaning of life? And was love even possible when doubt always sailed in on the horizon? 
“A penny for your thoughts?” A voice asks. A man comes to stand beside you. His blonde hair was swept back perfectly, and when he looked at you, you recognized the icy blue eyes. 
“It’s you. Lady Y/n if I’m not mistaken?” he says, dumbstruck in realization.
“Yes, That is me. I know your face but not your name yet.” You mention.
“Apologies, I’m Harrison, Harrison Osterfield well, Viscount Osterfield if you must know.” He almost cringes at his title. Something you were intrigued to know why, yet you left it as a wonder rather than a known thing for now. He takes off his mask as well, to not only match you but for courtesy.
You study his strong features, with a slight amount of freckles adorning his face, as he does the same to you he finds you striking, in every way.
“So what is a lady doing out here, not enjoy the party?” He asks, out of curiosity.
“I guess because my feet have already done enough dancing. I’m assuming you do not like these much.” You gesture to the ball, having not seeing him inside. 
“I don’t really find these, appealing. The whole marriage market thing is more insane than chasing chickens with their heads cut off.”
You laugh at that one, the analogy describing it perfectly. 
“Then what are you doing here? If you so despise it.”
“Probably the same as all the other men here, Yet I hate how the whole thing is. Choosing of class rather than well... Companionship.”
“Not of love?” you ask.
“It is hard to find love, especially when you’re a- well... rake of sorts.”
“Well, it is hard when all the ton stares at you with pity. No man wants to be the husband of a woman with troubles.”
“I doubt that is true. Any man who can see through the storm will realize there is a light behind you,” he says kindly.
“Well as my Mama Would say, being a rake is only the surface of a man. The integrity of the man is underneath it.”
He smiles at that, genuinely, turning around, leaning against the railing.
“But how do you see the integrity of a man? Especially when the man being a rake is so... prominent?”
“By his actions.” you simply say.
 Harrison nods, hoping at least one woman could see it by his actions.
“And how about you? Why do you think people are looking at you in well- pity?” he asks out of curiosity.
Your mind wanders to that traumatic night.
You had gone off and danced with Lord Dennis, having an enjoyable time. After dancing about, you head over towards your parents talking with a man you did not recognize. It seemed slightly tense before he walked away. 
“What was that about Papa?” he brushed it off, commenting “It’s a nice night no need to ruin it. And how is my favourite daughter doing? Any suitors catch your eye?”  you laugh as he coughs a bit, clearing his throat. 
“I’m your only daughter, and not yet Papa, It is but the first night! but I promise I won’t become a spinster!” 
He laughs, before coughing more. Your mother starts coughing as well. 
Your father takes out his hanker chief, before coughing into it. 
“Well Dear, we love you, so do not make haste where it is not a need to.” your mother says. 
You loved how your mother was so encouraging of you finding whatever it was you wanted in life.
Your father excused himself to grab a lemonade and right then and there your whole life you had ever known had flashed before you. Your father started stumbling, coughing again, blood coming out of his mouth. He was there until he wasn’t.  It wasn’t until the whole ton swarmed the room, around you, William had come rushing in after your mother shrieked in horror. 
You could do all but nothing but stand in shock, staring as William pulled you and your mother away from the scene. You couldn’t even cry, or fathom what was going on, your mind wouldn’t even realize this was all happening. 
You shook off the memory, staring back into his icy blue eyes. 
“I- uh, am... an orphan,” you say almost quiet enough that he couldn’t hear. 
“I’m sorry m’lady.” you wave your hand as if it was no big deal.
“It is over now. There is no reason to fret over it. I only wish that the rest of the suitors could well, see that.”
He nods, before catching someone’s eye in the ballroom.
“Well, unfortunately, I must cut our conversation short. I have someone I must talk to urgently.”
“It was a pleasure talking to you, m’lord.” 
He almost cringes when you say that, before nodding and walking back into the chaos of the dead chickens. 
You decided to enjoy a few more moments outside, in semi solitude. 
“Y/n!” someone whisper yells to you.
you turn around to find William walking in hastily. 
“You should not be out here all alone, Y/n.” you look around to realize that you were alone at last which felt more lonely than it ever has since the passing of your parents, and you could not pinpoint out why. A presence felt missing. 
“Sorry William, I was just- well taking it all in.”
He sighs rubbing his jaw, “What am I to do with you y/n.” he jesters shaking his head covering his small smile. 
You laugh, not knowing the man you were speaking with had a tinge in his chest seeing you laughing with a man. He brushes it off before drowning himself in conversation with Zendaya. 
TAGS:
 @spideyspeaches @greenorangevioletgrass @take-me-to-ny@queenofthepouges @minejungwoo @sheranatic111​ @keithseabrook27 @lolooo22 @webmeupspiderdaddy​  @fairydustparker
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itsallyscorner · 4 months ago
Text
The Pink Shirt
Pairing: Tom Holland x reader
Summary: Based off of Tommy’s obsession with the pink shirt from Zara. Also because I bought the damn shirt for myself as well😭
Warnings: none—I lied. Filthy, dirty, kinda funny, horny smut. Tom is down bad and I need to touch some grass.
A/n: I had this idea so now I’m writing it! Wanted to do some free writing and not requests to let myself ease back into my writing mindset:) might help me get out of a writer’s funk! Hope you loves like it💕
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆
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(my best boy🥺)
✧───── ・ 。゚★: *. ☽.* :★. ─────✧
With your eyes still shut with sleep, you stretched your limbs, loosening up your muscles from the long night of slumber. Your arm reaches out to the space beside you, expecting to feel the warm body of your boyfriend. When your hand only comes to contact with the comforter, your eyes slowly peel open. Your head rises from your pillow, looking around for any sign of Tom.
His side of the bed was still fairly warm, the outline of his body slightly imprinted into the sheets. The sunlight from the windows peek into the room, causing you to squint. You plop your head back onto the bed, turning to nuzzle your face into Tom’s pillow. His familiar smell of lavender, warm spices, and hints or cedarwood enter your senses and you can’t help but snuggle deeper into his pillow.
A clang in the kitchen startles you. He’s probably getting his morning tea, you thought to yourself. As much as he hated to admit it, Tom was a morning person. He enjoyed waking up early: he got to watch the sun rise, have a morning workout, and he got the opportunity to watch you peacefully sleep. Some people might find the last part creepy, but he swears it isn’t, he just likes to stare at your face.
Deciding to get a move on for the day, you haul yourself out of bed and reach down to the floor for the first article of clothing you can find. The shirt on the floor happened to be one of Tom’s. It was a new shirt of his that he had bought from Zara while you two were out doing rounds around the city. You had suggested it to him, saying that pink complimented his skin and that he needed more color in his closet. Obviously, he bought the shirt. You hadn’t expected him to immediately wear it, but the moment he wore it, he never wanted to take it off. The infamous pink shirt became a staple in his wardrobe and he was obsessed with it.
You pull the shirt over your head and pair it with some shorts. You continue your morning routine, heading into the connected bathroom and freshening yourself up for the day. When you felt presentable, you walked out the room and headed straight to the kitchen. You heard the quiet murmurs of Tom and the sizzling on the stove. You could hear him make little comments to Tessa and return to humming Kiss Me More by Doja Cat and SZA. The song had been stuck in your head, meaning that it was played almost 24/7 wherever you went. Tom must’ve heard the song from you one too many times and it got stuck in his head as well.
You enter the kitchen, immediate being greeted by Tessa. Your voice goes a pitch higher as you bend down to snuggle her. “Good morning darling!” You say in a babyish voice, petting and pressing kisses to her head. Her tail wags in excitement, happy to have the attention on her.
Tom notices your presence, looking over his shoulder to see you with Tessa. He turns back to the eggs on the stove but quickly does a double take when he sees a flash of pink on you. On you was his favorite pink shirt. He didn’t have a problem with you wearing it, in fact he adored when you wore his clothes. They were a bit oversized on you and made you look so adorable. But something about you wearing this specific shirt did things to him.
Your eyes suddenly align with his, your lips turning up into a wide smile. He reciprocates the action and turns the stove off—his eggs were done anyway. You stand up straight and approach him, wrapping your arms around his bare figure, the only thing on him being his boxers. Your face is flush against his back, lips pressing soft kisses along his spine and shoulders.
“G’mornin sweet girl.” He hums, taking one of your arms and bringing it up to his own lips. He interlocks your fingers with his and places a kiss atop your knuckles. He keeps a hold on your hand while he plates the eggs on your plates.
“Mornin’ bubs.” You smile against his skin, hugging him tighter. Tom chuckles at your hold, he adored it when you were all cuddly so early in the morning. He lifts your hand in the air, twirling you in the process, and pulling you into his chest. You giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck and playing with the curls that brushed against it.
“You’re up early. I was gonna bring you breakfast in bed and be a really cute boyfriend.” He hums, stroking your back. His eyes drift down your body, admiring the way his pink shirt looks on you. The words “A VERY GOOD START” printed onto the shirt rested along your left breast. It definitely was a very good start to his day—seeing you in his clothes made him weak and a full on simp for you.
“You don’t need to do anything to be a cute boyfriend, you already are bubs.” You scrunch your nose at him and peck his lips. He leans into the kiss, following your lips as they pull away from his. “And I woke up alone and was wondering where you went, that’s why I’m up early.”
“I was hungry as soon as I woke up so I made us some breakfast.” He explains. His hands drift down your figure, fingers brushing against the exposed skin of your legs. He lifts you up, wrapping your legs around his waist, while his hands grasps onto your bum. A boyish grin forms on his lips as he cheekily squeezes your bum cheeks, “You don’t have to worry about being alone anymore because you found me.”
You playfully roll your eyes at him, “I’m starting to regret finding you, you horny little shit.” You tease him. It was normal for the both of you to poke fun at each other, it was your love language.
Tom licks his lips, eyes scanning your body again. The shirt was big on you, your nipples pebbled against the material, and his scent was radiating off of you. It might have been a shirt but it was his shirt with his scent on it, and it turned on his possessive side.
“But you look so fucking adorable and hot in my shirt.” He pouted, setting you on the counter and letting his fingers sneak under his shirt to touch your skin. “I just want to take you on this counter and lay you down, eat your sweet pussy out, and hear your pretty little moans.” He teasingly trails kisses along your jaw and neck. His fingers grab onto your hips, thumbs digging desperately into your skin.
Your tilt his chin up so that he’s staring up at you. Lust consumes his toffee brown eyes, turning them darker compared to their usual bright tint.
“You know what else you can take on this counter?” You ask him, a smidge of seduction in your tone. Completely enamored by you, Tom just lets out a little hum in response. You lean in closer to his ear, making sure to brush your lips against it.
“The breakfast you just cooked for us. We should eat before it gets cold.” You whisper, your breath fanning against his neck. You feel him shudder against you as goosebumps appear on his neck. He throws his head back, groaning at you.
“You little shit, you’re such a tease.” He grumpily says, pushing himself off the counter away from you. He grabs the plates he prepared for you both and sets them on the table. You laugh, hopping off the counter. You didn’t miss him adjusting himself in his boxers as he awkwardly sat on a stool. You settle beside him and pressed a kiss on his temple. He huffs cutting into his pancake.
“Tommy.” You whine, ducking to reach his lips. He was pouting and moved away from you.
“No, you’re mean.” He grumbles. “But you worked so hard to cook breakfast, I wouldn’t want it to all go cold.”
“That’s what a microwave is for.” He retorts.
“It’s better fresh.” You stab a fork into your eggs and eat it. He remains silent, chewing on his food. You began to feel bad and place your chin on his shoulder.
“I’m sorry for being a tease.” You apologize, watching him for a reaction. You continue, “I’ll let you do whatever you want later.” That catches his attention.
“When’s later?”
You shrug, “After I digest?”
“How long does it take to digest?” He questions you.
“I don’t know, thirty minutes?” You guess. He tries to stop the small smile on his lips from forming, but fails to. He nods nudging his nose against yours, “Sounds good to me.”
The day passes with ‘discreet’ teasing and ogling from Tom. The both of you couldn’t exactly do anything later because things happened during the day. First, Tom had to log onto zoom to attend a meeting for a new film. Then, you got occupied doing some last minute work for college. While you were consumed with your assignments, Tom’s eyes would drift to where you were. You were sat on the couch, legs on the cushions, as you typed away on your laptop. You wore the shirt all day, even when you turned into the bedroom to take a short nap.
The moment his meeting ended, Tom went straight to your shared bedroom. To his content, you were already awake, scrolling through your phone. The position you were in made him inwardly groan. You were on your stomach with your plump ass sticking up in the air.
“Baby.” He called as he entered the room. Tom carefully clamored over you, straddling you from behind. He ducked his head to kiss the back of your neck, his lips instantly latching onto the spot that he knew riled you up. “Baby, it’s later.” He mumbled against your neck.
“I know, was waiting for you to finish with your meeting.” You reply, turning to meet his lips. He smiles into the kiss, deepening it as he helped you lay on your back. He blindly takes your phone from your hand and puts it to the side, his fingers resuming to play with the material of his shirt. One of your hands cup his face while the other moved to thread through his curls. You pull on the strands, emitting a deep moan from Tom. He let out a sigh of relief when he was able to ground his hardening cock against your clothed core.
“Fuck—was thinking about this all day.” He choked as he bucked his hips against yours. The friction coming from between you two and the sight of you underneath him in his clothes sent waves of arousal straight to his dick.
“Well now you don’t need to think anymore, just do me.” You quickly reply in between his kisses. You weren’t even sure what came out your mouth because all you can feel was yourself being consumed by Tom.
One of his hands dip down to slip past your shorts; what Tom felt made him moan. Under your shorts—technically his boxers—was nothing but your wet cunt. Tom felt himself get harder at the thought of you wearing nothing under his boxers the entire day.
“And you don’t have any fucking panties on.” Tom bit down on your bottom lip, pulling on it a bit with his teeth, before letting it go. “You’ve been a naughty girl all day. Teasing me with the shirt, then at the kitchen this morning, and now I found out that you haven’t been wearing anything under my boxers today.”
“What are you gonna do, Tommy? Punish me?” You taunt him, your hands being pinned to the mattress by one of his own.
“You see I would, but I’m feeling generous today. You look so good in my clothes and now I wanna mark you up even more by being inside you.” He casually shared as his fingers between your legs spread your wetness on your cunt. His thumb expertly yet blindly brushes your clit, making you gasp.
Tom continues his causal conversation with you, “You’d like that won’t you? Marking you up and showing everyone that you’re mine?” Your mouth only gaps in pleasure, your body content with the way his fingers flicked between your folds. All while this is happening, his eyes remain on you. He watched as your eyes threatened to roll back, the way your mouth opened and closed, and how your brows would furrow in pleasure.
Tom tuts, moving so that you’re directly looking at you, “I need words, darling.” A breath releases shakily past your lips, “Yeah.”
“Yeah what?” Tom tilts his head at you, still flicking his fingers below you, one of his fingers teasing your entrance.
“I—I want you to—oh—mark me up.” You stutter out. Tom uses that as confirmation to shove his finger into your hole. You gasp, legs jolting to close, though Tom’s torso avoids them to do so.
Tom cheekily chuckles. “Oh, I know you do.” He responds, mocking you on your little slip up. With how wet you were getting, it wasn’t difficult for him to shove in a second finger. While his fingers pushed in and out of you, his thumb made rough circles on your clit, the perfect move to drive you towards the edge.
“Such a good girl for me.” He hums, craning his head so that he can suck hickies onto your neck. His lips attached to your skin, sucking harshly while his teeth and tongue alternated to bite and smooth the spot. When he felt one side was bruised enough, he moved to the other side of your neck, repeating his motions.
“So responsive, you’re still getting wet.” He whispered. Your toes curled and whimpers escaped your mouth at how good he was making you feel. When Tom felt your walls clenching down on his fingers, he disconnected himself from your neck, admiring the patches of hickies that littered your neck and collarbone.
“All mine.” He muttered. “You gonna cum? I can feel you squeezing down on me, baby. Come on, cum on my fingers.” He nudged your nose with his, quickening his pace. You felt the tension in you building up. When the tension relaxed, you came undone. Squeezing your eyes shut and throwing your head back, giving Tom a view of your bruised neck. He dove right back in, sucking on the part of your throat that vibrated as you released a moan.
When he felt your breathing fall back to pace, he stared at you.
“You alright?” He asked, a hand of his coming up to affectionately move strands of hair that stuck onto your face. The lust in his eyes momentarily disappeared being replaced with concern. You nodded letting out an “mhm”.
And just like that the lust returned to his eyes. He pecked your lips and wiggled his way down towards your soaked heat.
“Good ‘cause we’re just starting.” He grinned. His eyes connected with the grey Calvin Klein boxers you wore. The patch between your legs was far more darker compared to the rest of the article of clothing.
“That’s sexy.” He comments. “Your cum soaking my boxers, God.” Tom shows the slightest bit of roughness by shoving your thighs apart to make way for his head. When he was centimeters away from your cunt, his eyes shift to look up at you, that boyish grin gracing his angelic face. Though right now he was far from angelic, he was like a sin between your legs. A sin you would do over and over again.
He chuckles to himself and kisses your pussy through the boxers. You knew this was payback for you teasing him earlier in the day. You found your hips lifting from the mattress, wanting to get more contact from Tom. His response was to only slam your hips back down, keeping his hands there to pin them to the bed.
Your legs widen, allowing all of him to be flush against you. Biting down on your lip, your hands reach down to the top of Tom’s head to grasp onto his hair.
“Tom.” You whine. Tom releases a low moan, rutting his crotch against the mattress to relieve his own arousal.
“I know, I know.” His tongue swipes his lips, tasting a hint of you on them. He takes his boxers off you and tosses them to the floor. His eyes hungrily connect with your core.
The heat forming between you and Tom was overwhelming you, causing you to sweat. You move to take off your (Tom’s) shirt but it’s suddenly yanked back down. You look at Tom in shock to see his eyes on you, “Keep the fucking shirt on.” You comply, leaving the shirt alone.
Tom turns his attention back to your slit and how it glistened with your wetness. Before he can do anything, he pulls his shirt off, and throws it over his shoulder. Without any warning, he dives into your heat. You let out a high pitched moan, your thighs clenching, and your eyes rolling back.
“Shit, Tom.” You moan as his mouth suctions itself onto your center. It was wet and sloppy, all you felt was his mouth and tongue attacking your pussy. He moans in content at the sounds you made for him, the vibrations of his moan buzzed against your clit. You whine while your hands grasp onto his curls to bring him closer to you.
“Taste so good for me. You’re such a good girl for me, (y/n).” He praises you, sloppily kissing your heat. His fingers split your folds apart, a string of your arousal forming between the space. Tom flicks his tongue, teasing your hole.
“Can you give me another one, love?” He questions you, the pad of his thumb making rough circles on your clit.
“Y—yeah.” You stammered, features contorting in pleasure.
“Yeah? I know you can, baby.” He replaces his thumb with his mouth and began to suck on your clit. His fingers were back inside you, pumping in and out repeatedly. The combination of his mouth and rough fingers caused white flashes to appear in your vision. You felt like you were blanking out, drunk on the euphoric pleasure Tom was giving you. He knew every little thing that riled you up and took you apart—he was like a pro when it came to making you feel good.
“God, Tom I’m close.” You clamp down on his fingers, your legs wrapping around his waist. Tom picks up the pace of his tongue, adding a hint of his teeth to graze at your sensitive bud.
“C’mon darling, cum all over my face, give me another one.” His words vibrate against your clit again. With the help of his tongue and fingers, your back was arching off the mattress, a loud cry tumbling off your lips. Your legs tightened around him as you came all over him. Gasping, you pried him off your core, the sensations of your orgasm making you far too sensitive. Your chest heaves, trying to catch your breath after the blissful moment.
“That’s my girl.” He mumbles, easing away from your center with your cum dripping down his chin. A proud grin is on his lips. You stare at him through half shut eyes, “Don’t get cocky on me.”
Tom licks his lips and uses the back of his hand to wipe your cum from his face.
“I didn’t say anything, lovey.” He innocently retorts, allowing you to come down from your high. Tom lifts your shirt to press kisses along your hipbones and stomach.
“You had that stupid look, you cocky shit.” You knew he was proud at the fact that he was the reason to why you were so blissed out. You may have had flushed cheeks, hair sticking to your face, and sweating—but he thought you looked absolutely stunning beneath him.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He hums nonchalantly, pushing your shirt to rest above your breasts. He momentarily stares at your erected nipples, almost boyishly. That glint of playfulness shining in his eyes.
“Come to daddy.” He says before ducking to suck on one of your nipples. You scrunch your face at him prying him off you. Tom objects, shooting you a look.
“You did not just fucking say that.”
“I did, now let me suck on them titties.” He snickers, can’t taking himself serious. You burst out laughing, “You’re killing the mood.”
He shakes his head, bouncing a bit, “Fine, sorry, sorry.” He pecks your lips and goes back to flicking his tongue on each of your nipples. You feel his hard on bumping against you, making your cunt squeeze down on thin air.
“Tom, you’re so hard.” Your hand rubs him through his boxers, helping him relieve himself of some tension. The action only causes Tom to jut his hips onto your hand.
“Thank you, baby.” He groans, pressing his forehead in between your breasts. You continue to rub him, finding the head of his cock and running your thumb past his tip. He suddenly snatches your hand from him, startling you.
“What?”
He kisses your wrist, “Nothing, sorry. I just won’t last long if you keep doing that. I need to be in you.” You nod, spreading your legs wider for him to get comfortable. Tom shimmies out his boxers, pulling out his length. It was quite long, with the veins almost popping out, and his tip red hot. Tom hissed when the air met his hard on.
You took some of your slick, gathering it on your hand, and used it as lube for Tom’s dick. He lines himself with your entrance and looks at you.
“You’re on the pill right?”
“Yup, I am.” You confirm, squeezing his bicep. Tom nods, interlocking one of your hands with his. The both of you sigh in relief once he enters you. The veins of his cock brush against your walls, his length completely filling you up.
“So fucking tight.” Tom breathes out, stilling so you can get used to him. You kiss his jaw, giving him the ‘ok’ to move. He pulls out then snaps his hips back into yours, knocking the breath right out of you.
He grabs one of your hands and rests his forehead against yours as his thrusts begin to grow harder and faster. “Yeah—won’t last long.”
“It’s ok, keep going Tommy.” You coax him, your free hand scratching at his back, spurring him on. Tom stills, leaning back to rest on his haunches. His hands grab onto your ankles, pushing your legs back until your knees touch your stomach.
“Keep these open for me, yeah?” He realigns himself with your entrance again. This time when he enters, he reaches deeper into you, hitting that spot that pushes you closer to becoming wrecked. Your moans are now bouncing off the walls; if Harry were home, the poor boy would have been mortified.
Tom smirks down at you, “That feels good doesn’t it, lovey?” As he says this his hand gently cradles your jaw, forcing you to look at him.
“You make me feel so good, Tommy.” You whimper, turning your head to kiss his palm. “Only you.”
Tom’s thumb glides past your lip before slipping it into your mouth. Your tongue swirls around his digit, getting it wet. He takes his thumb from your mouth and brings it back to your clit. His touch makes you jolt, your sensitive bud already overstimulated from your previous orgasms.
“I’m close, baby.” He warns you, his thrusts becoming erratic. His hips were moving sloppily, but he was still hitting your spot. You decide to help him out and replace his hand with yours on your clit.
“I fucking love you, fuck.” You groan. Tom connects his lips with yours, wanting to be as close to you as possible. With both his hands free, he angled his hips a certain way and began to rail into you, fucking you into the mattress.
“Baby, I’m cumming.” He whimpers against your lips. “Me too, Tommy. Cum in me.” You urge him, trailing wet kisses along the side of his face. The both of you come undone at the same time, entangled with each other’s limbs. Strings of white releases from Tom and coats your walls while mixing with your release. Tom’s face is nuzzled into your neck, while yours rests above his curls. He leans his weight onto you, your chests heaving and bodies twitching from the aftershocks.
Tom was the first to move, coming out from the crevice of your neck. He kisses you multiple times with whispers of “I love you’s”.
“I think you look really good in my clothes.” He whispers, the softest smile forming on his features, his eyes gazing at you.
You snort, motioning to the sticky mess between the two of you, “Really? I didn’t notice.” The two of your burst out laughing, stuck in your cozy little bubble.
The moment was interrupted by heavy knocking coming from the door, “WILL ONE OF YOU PLEASE TAKE ME TO CHURCH? MY EARS HAVE BEEN SINNED UPON.”
Tom groaned, “HARRY FUCK OFF!”
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆
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blindingdutchy · a month 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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hollandsour · 3 months ago
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Secret Lover
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I am really proud of this, lol
Request: I have a request, please! If you could do one about Y/N who is fairly famous (singer or actress whatever doesn't matter lol) and Tom who have been secretly dating for a while both come on to the Graham Norton show and they have awesome banter and give each other f*ck me eyes the whole time so social media blows up about it so they come out that they are dating. Thank you!
Warnings: Swearing, Fluff
WC: 1.9k
A/n: HI, so I used the Graham Norton episode w tom, Jake, Tom hanks, and Gwyneth as a reference, BUT I AM CHANGING STUFF ABT IT, DONT COME AT ME PLS. Only instead of Gwyneth, its reader!!! Also Ik the request is kind of different, but I wanted to add some stuff.
This is how the story will work. It's a little different from the structure of my other stories. So, I will describe a part of the interview and then I will go in-depth on it. That made no sense but as you read it you'll understand.
⚠️MOST OF THE STORY IS DIALOGUE⚠️
༻✿༺
Masterlist
¨His the oscar-nominated actor for Brokeback Mountain, Nightcrawler, and Donnie Darko. Please welcome Jake Gyllenhaal¨ Graham begins and the crowd goes wild as soon as he comes out. Jake is the first one to sit on the red couch.
¨His your friendly neighborhood Spiderman, it's Mr. Tom Holland¨ Graham continues, Tom coming out from backstage, seating next to Jake. The crowd still going wild.
¨She´s an oscar-winning actress and a top ten billboard musician, please welcome Y/N Y/L/N¨ it's your turn to walk on stage, you hug Graham and take a seat next to your boyfriend. Secret boyfriend.
¨She is also an oscar-winning actress and the creator of GOOP, Please welcome Gwyneth Paltrow¨ The crowd whistled.
¨And back as Sheriff Woody in Toy Story 4, he is Hollywood great and a double-oscar winner. Please welcome, Tom Hanks!¨ Graham welcome the last guest.
The crowd started to calm down, and the show began. It was the first time you did an interview with Tom, so both of you were trying hard not to be touchy with each other. Of course, Tom blew it in the first 5 minutes:
¨So Tom¨ Graham Started ¨Fame is obviously kinda new to you..¨
¨Mjm¨ Tom nodded, listening to the question.
¨Are the Holland clan keeping your feet on the ground?¨ Graham asked
¨Yeah, they do a good job too¨ Tom started, but he didn't realize when he started talking, he placed his hand on your thigh. You stuck in a breath, and he felt it. He soon realized what he had just done and removed his hand. Luckily, no one on the stage seems to notice. The fans sure did. Tom continued talking like nothing had happened, sounding very convincing.
A few minutes after, Graham started talking about Toy Story 4. He asked a random question to Tom Hanks that almost blew your cover with Tom. Again:
¨ I started recording Woody in 1991¨ Tom Hanks spoke.
¨Guess who wasn't born by then?¨ Graham laughed
¨Am going to say half-¨ The crowd laughed ¨ Everybody to my left was not yet concived¨ He signaled to move his arm, and both you and Tom raised your hands.
¨I was having good sex in 1991. You don't find that any more¨ Gwyenth said laughing.
¨Boy! That's true, the good old times¨ Tom H said.
¨Well, no actually, you can still find pretty good sex¨ You said, smirking devilishly at your boyfriend while the crowd whistled. This time, Graham caught the smirk.
¨Talking about anyone specific y/N?¨ He asked, playing with his cards.
¨Oh no, just saying¨ You shrugged, and Tom grinned.
¨Well we've painted a picture now, thank you¨ Graham joked, making everyone on the set laugh.
Next, Tom Hanks gave both of you a task. He was explaining to everyone how young actors are often asked to make repetition. Of course, you and Tom were the two youngest actors in the room, so he picked you guys. The exercise consisted of you asking Tom ´would you like more coffee?.´ He had to reply with ´coffee, coffee, boy! Do I need more coffee? Tom got a little bit carried away:
¨Okey so y/n, you will ask Tom that same question over and over again, ok?¨ Tom Hanks instructed.
¨Sure, let's do this!¨ You said with anticipation.
¨Tom, you will be saying, Coffee, coffee boy do I need more coffee in every conceivable way you can¨
¨Okey, am ready¨ Your boyfriend spoke, and you repositioned yourself to face him properly.
¨Would you like some more coffee?¨ You began, smiling at him.
¨Coffe, coffee, boy do I need more coffee.¨ He recalled, turning on his English accent to the fullest.
¨Would you like some more coffee?¨ You asked again.
¨Coffee, coffee, boy do I need more coffee.¨ He repeated himself, a little less enthusiastic this time.
¨Come on, Tom, can you try it with a little more something to it, man?¨ The crowd laughed, and he nodded.
¨Yes, Y/N, I can¨ He smiled, fixing his suit.
¨Okey, Would you like some more coffee?¨ You started again
¨Coffee, coffee, please y/n, I need some more coffee¨ He said, stronger this time.
¨Good, Would you like some more coffee?¨
¨Coffee, coffee, please Mis, I need some more coffe¨ His voice cracking this time.
¨Would you want some more coffee¨ You continued, staring at his beautiful eyes.
¨Coffee, coffee, come on y/n, I need some more coffee¨ He opened his hands and cocked his head to the side.
¨Would you like some more coffee¨ You asked one last time.
¨Coffee, please Babe, I need some more coffee. Please Y/N Y/N/L, give me some coffee¨ Tom said in a desperate manner. He didn't realize what he said. You sure did, as well as Gwyneth, who gave you a look, and you brushed it off. What both of you didn't know, was the internet, was freaking out about all the little easter eggs they have been giving.
Now, it was Gwyneth´s time to talk about GOOP. Graham welcomed the topic about her famous, Vaginal steaming. Tom just had to comment on it:
¨...And Vagaina steaming, we had never heard of that¨ Graham laughed. ¨Now a day, who doesn't steam their Vagaina?¨ Graham told
¨You are sitting on a steam right now¨ Gwyneth announced.
¨mmmm¨ Graham wiggled around in his chair, pretending to be in a vaginal steamer. Tom looked at you and laughed.
¨The whole point of this steamer was to provide health and freshness to a woman¨ Gwyneth explained.
¨Y/N, you tried this famous vaginal steamer yourself. Is that right?¨ Graham asked you, and you nodded. ¨You posted this picture in your Instagram story after you tried it.¨ The photo was shown.
¨Yes, I tried it and it's super relaxing and comfortable. It does really work! you confessed.
¨Oh believe me, it does work really well.¨ Tom fixed his hair and the crowd laughed.
¨Have you tried them before, Tom?¨ Tom Hanks asked surprised.
¨Well I sure have mate, just not in the way you'd expect¨ You hit Tom with your elbow, knowing exactly what he's talking about. Jake noticed what Tom said, kicking his feet to shut him up.
¨I hear there's an Ancient practice where you drink your own urine¨ Jake tried to change the subject.
¨Oh yeah, we do that¨ Tom said pointing at you and him, and the crowd burst out laughing. You weren't happy. Tom knew what he was doing. He had wanted to make your relationship public for a while now. He was definitely convincing people about the idea.
¨We drink each others¨ You followed along
¨I think Jake wasn't informed you were going to share that information¨ Graham joked again. You all laughed at Jake's funny face.
Graham complimented how young you looked, he asked you if you had any similar issues as what Tom Hanks had just said. He said he had issued being served in bars. Graham asked if you had experienced anything like that, and well :
¨How old are you y/n?¨ He asked
¨I am 22¨ You smiled
¨Beacuse you do look awfully young, do you have the same issue as Tom Hanks over here?¨
¨Well, I do have a similar storie¨ You began ¨Recenlty, I went to the bar with my boyfriend and his mom¨
¨Oh, she's taken, everyone. Staff! be ready to pass the tissues.¨ Graham and his jokes. The crowd laughed once again.
¨Haha, yeah¨ You turned to Tom. He winked at you. The camera definitely caught that. ¨So as I was saying, they didn't want to let To-my boyfriend mom in, because she didn't have an ID. ¨
¨What?!¨ Tom Hanks laughed.
¨Yeah and my boyfriend was all like ´I came out of my mum 25 years ago you fucking idiot´¨ You pretended to talk in a British accent, making fans wonder.
¨Toy Story was in cinemas!¨ Graham replied, and you laughed.
¨That was a really smooth accent y/n¨ Tom rolled his eyes
¨Yes, y/n you know his delicate about the accent¨ Jake joked.
¨So your boyfriend is British?¨ Graham asked, cocking his head to the side. Tom turned around to look at you.
¨Ye-yeah, he is british¨ Fuck, you blew too much away.
¨Mmm, she definitely had good taste¨ Graham joked.
The last blow of that night was the biggest. Stormzy had just finished performing on stage. He was from England and lived in Tom's neighborhood. Stormzy exposed a little too much:
¨Stormzy, you actually know Tom well don't you?¨ Graham shuffled his cards.
¨Yeah, my parent's house is in the neighborhood. Sometimes I see you and y/n walking your dog. I am sorry but your dog's walk is so cute¨ Stormzy replied to Graham, meaning to cause no harm. You and Tom shared a look, knowing everything was out. Graham wanted to ask about that, but time was on your side that day.
¨That was all for today everyone. Thank you!¨ Graham ended the show.
༻✿༺
The next day after the interview, the media was out of its mind. You woke up to the sound of your phone buzzing. You turned around to see your boyfriend already awake, looking at his phone.
¨Oh we fucked up¨ He said, looking down at his phone.
¨Good morning to you too, baby¨ you scoffed. He kissed your head.
¨Morning love, happy? Now, look at your phone.¨
¨Ugh¨ you looked at your phone and saw all the headlines and posts. There were videos, ship accounts, pictures, messages, all types of stuff.
¨I am surprised am not being threatened by any of your fourteen-year-olds, babe¨ You joked
¨Shut up. They are all lovely¨
¨12 year difference Tom¨ You reminded him.
¨What!? That I love my fourteen-year-olds, doesn't mean ama marry them¨ He pled ¨I will marry you¨ He touched your nose, and you smiled.
¨We should just make it public¨ You shrugged.
¨You sure?¨
¨Yeah¨
Tom posted a picture on his Instagram. It was a picture of both of you in bed cuddling. He captioned it ¨youp, she is my secret lover¨.
Both of you shut your phones off and decided to watch your interview from the day before, cuddling in bed
¨Man, I was giving you fuck eyes the whole time¨ Tom mumbled, you laughed.
Request something/talk to me :) 👈
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cindysilk · 29 days ago
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something holy
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synopsis: tom hasn’t been in your life for months... until you run into him unexpectedly at a party.
pairing: uni!tom x reader
genre: uni au, angst, smut, exes to lovers, could be frat!tom if you wish
warnings: explicit content, smut, alcohol, drugs, slight dom!tom, protected sex, oral sex (f receiving), lots of angst lol
word count: 4.5k
a/n: bro this hurt to write. did i come up w this story by daydreaming abt my own ex? of course not. who told you that? also this isn’t necessarily inspired by something holy by alice phoebe lou but it shares the same title... give it a listen <3
The more you tried to forget, the more the memory of him swelled in your heart, though it also had the same effect as your lungs suffocating from cyanide. No, maybe that was too harsh. It’s not like Tom ruined your life. Quite frankly, every time a friend of yours had asked about him in the past year, you never had much to say other than that your attachment styles maybe clashed. He was busy all the time anyway. Of course he was moving on well, never stealing a glance at you during lecture hall whereas you felt like you were performing for him, just in case he was gazing at you. Just in case he was watching you and missed what he saw. It didn’t matter. He stopped sitting with you which was a given, though you thought that it would’ve been okay considered he “still wanted to be friends.” Does anyone ever follow through with that? You hate yourself for how much you crave even just Tom’s acquaintanceship. It makes you feel pathetic.
You haven’t seen him in weeks, you realize, since the new semester had started. What a blessing. Now, you were roaming sweaty bodies in a house far too big for it to remain unscathed by the morning. Alice was nowhere to be found — your roommate was probably eating Harrison’s face off. Luckily they had been seeing each other only casually, seeing him on the weekends eating cereal in your kitchen after their hookups with simple greetings in between. You have to physically fight the urge to ask about Tom every time.
“Incoming!” barks a sophomore towards you. Your head turns like whiplash before a ping pong wall flies right into your face, causing an eruption of laughter from the crew at the beer pong table. You wince and look back at them, grimacing.
“Cheer up, pretty girl! Wanna be on my team?” another boy yells.
“No thanks,” you yell back, your smile dripping with venom as you flip them off.
You wonder how it’s possible to feel so out of it, dopey from the joint you had just smoked mixed with the wine in your hands, while also feeling like your heart is about to beat out of your chest. It’s like your body is taking a screenshot — the downers mixing with the uppers. The uppers being, well, your physical anxiety manifesting in the prison of this house party. You retreat upstairs to wander around the large house — you realize you don’t even know who lives there. Friend of Harrison’s or something. You stumble past bare rooms with dirty laundry on the floors, couples making out and shutting the door abruptly behind them as you walk by. You make your way into the bathroom to check your reflection and maybe splash some cold water on the back of your neck. You don’t necessarily recognize the face in front of you. It’s like seeing a ghost, you think. Sighing, you take a gulp of your wine, raising an eyebrow at an opened, half-full bottle of rosé that someone had left on the windowsill next to the toilet. Shrugging, you take it, tucking it under your arm as you leave.
It’s right then when you notice a drawing in one of the rooms. It’s messy and abstract, with red lines swooping together to make out flowers and butterflies. It’s your drawing. Looking around the room, there isn’t much evidence to what the owner of the bedroom could be like. You don’t recognize the bedsheets and the room is eerily clean, save a couple of stray socks scattered next to the bed. All there is on the walls are your drawing and a Bob Dylan poster. You frown, too lost in your wandering brain to remember when you made that drawing, so you look out the window instead to watch everyone else at the party make fools of themselves. The party below is full of life and everyone looks like little ants.
“Uh, hey stalker,” a voice murmurs from behind you. The room is dark except for the weak string lights. The warm light of the hallway backlist the figure in front of you as you squint, then widening your eyes. Just my fucking luck.
“Tom?” you call out. Your anxiety spikes just a bit, though your eyes soften as your gaze splays out onto the moonlight chiseling the freckled boy’s features. He looks tougher, somehow. Maybe it’s the thin black t-shirt that shows off his arms or how his curls have grown about a bit to make him look both more boyish and more… refined. You can’t tell if his jaw has gotten sharper or if he’s simply clenching it at the sight of you. Your stomach sinks.
“Like my interior decorating skills? Or are you trying to find the body in here?” he raises an eyebrow.
You chuckle sheepishly. “Ha ha, very funny. As if you have the balls to kill someone and hide it.”
“That’s the thing, babe, you’re next.” His lips are in a thin white line as he stares at you. A beat passes before his mouth turns up into a smile. You remember to breathe suddenly, exhaling a laugh. You missed this… the weird banter. You two had a good repertoire of always knowing how to retaliate in your shared arguments and bits. It was never a dull moment between the two of you. Even when you’re six feet apart and practically strangers.
You rub the back of your neck. It’s hot now compared to the coolness from the bathroom water from moments ago. “Um, sorry. Didn’t know you lived here. I can leave if you want some privacy,” you mumble.
“You’re fine. Just came here to smoke. Seems like we invited way too many annoying fucking people to this party. I don’t even recognize half of these faces. ’S like a fucking riot down there.”
“Aren’t you, like, concerned your shit’s gonna get broken?”
“House was basically furnished when I moved in, so, not my problem. As long as no one pukes in my room.” Tom peers towards you as he grinds the weed. “You not gonna throw up any time soon, yeah?”
“I’m good,” you smile shyly. You can’t help but watches his hands as he prepares a joint. His fingers are long and slender, so neat-looking despite the pinkish flesh of his knuckles. You notice he’s still sporting the rings he got that one time you took him thrift shopping. There’s even the band that looks like a crown. You had picked it out for him.
“Good girl.” He nods. Something in your stomach churns. Was the rosé in your hand too sweet? Did you even remember to eat before you went to the party?
Biting your lip, your eyes flit between his fingers and the moon. You feel like you’re staring, so you look beyond his window instead. It feels like the air in the room has gotten thicker as he moves from his desk to sit across from you on the seat of his bay windows.
“You want?” he raises his eyebrows in question, holding the joint out for you. You probably shouldn’t considering you were still a bit high from before, not to mention to you were a third down from the bottle of wine in your hand and you had two cups of red right when you arrived. You had always taken your alcohol well, even when it was too much. Your mind flashes to when Tom would have to lug you home, forcing you into an Uber when things got too intense. You wonder briefly if he’d take care of you now.
You nod slightly, taking the joint in your mouth and lighting it. You inhale a bit too quickly, causing a small coughing fit. It goes to your brain immediately, making you feel lightheaded. A breathy chuckle leaves your mouth as you hand the joint back, which is now littered with a print from your dark lipstick.
“You good?” Tom laughs.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m great.”
Tom doesn’t know what to do with himself. He’s been in a bad mood since around 10 pm when someone had broken two wine glasses at once, not to mention the freshman that spilled her vodka cranberry on him in an attempt to hit on him. He doesn’t know what he’s feeling right now, because having you in his room is a new sight, yet the way the moon creates a halo around your hair is all too familiar. It reminds him of how the moonlight shone on your cheeks while you were asleep, and he would play with your hair and count strands the way a child would count sheep. His heart flutters when he watches you take another hit. He shoves these feelings deeper into his body and thinks he just must be really, really, really high.
“I haven’t— I haven’t seen you in a while. How are you?” you ask, coughing lightly.
“Um, fine. I guess. My workload is bigger now so I have less free time. Shit’s pretty boring around here, I guess. How’s your, um, art and stuff?”
“Great! I have a studio now,” you grin. Your eyes wander towards the wall where your drawing is pinned. “You still kept that.”
Tom turns around to see where you’re looking. Maybe it’s too dark to tell, but a blush creeps over his face. “Oh, yeah. I mean, I just had it and my walls were fucking bare, so. I still really like it.” You are beaming on the inside, but you can’t show that. You hesitate from showing any kind of emotional vulnerability ever since he ended things with you. It wasn’t like Tom said it out loud, but he was just so tired. Tired of you, tired of expecting to answer every question. Apparently, it was too much work for him to communicate his feelings, which left you in the dark at every turn. The space between you continued to grow like a swelled up balloon.
“I’m sorry I haven’t texted or called.”
Maybe you’re too crossfaded to remember social cues at this point, because at that statement, you scoff.
“It’s no problem. Just wished you kind of, acknowledged my existence every once in a while,” you replied.
Tom’s brows furrow. “Really? Whenever I’m around you it’s like I have the plague or something.”
“What effort have you made in the past eight months to get close to me, Tom? Serious question,” you roll your eyes and take the joint straight from his lips and put it to your own, causing Tom to smirk at the action. You hike up your legs and put your knees to your chest. “No, actually, I could ask that for the entire last half of our relationship.”
“I don’t want to fight with you right now,” Tom sighs. He doesn’t want to tell you that he doesn’t know how to act when you’re around him. Of course, that’s obvious in his own behavior, but you always take it as an awkward post-breakup lovers-to-strangers thing. What you don’t know is that he does steal glances at you, hovers over your contact name when he’s drunk on the weekends, writes your name down a hundred times to reconcile what he feels about you until the feelings are gone for good. Those damn complicated feelings. If you knew even remotely what he was thinking you probably would’ve done witchcraft about it by now. But in the past year, you decided to suffer in silence and leave him alone.
“We’re not fighting, we’re talking. We’re having a very adult conversation now, Thomas,” you slur, punching him lightly in the shoulder. Oh, now you’re definitely too high to care, because at this point your eyes are wide looking at him and putting a hand behind his ear to stroke his soft brown hair. It feels like an automatic gesture. It feels as easy as blinking. You feel his warm pulse beneath your cold fingertips, then you swallow and pull your hand away like it’s been burnt once you realize what you just did, and now his mouth is slightly ajar.
“I’m really sorry, y/n,” Tom whispers. The way he says your name almost feels like a prayer.
You can’t recollect exactly how it happens, but suddenly Tom’s mouth is on yours. You jump at the gesture — you haven’t been touched in months. You hover back over his lips, eyelashes so close to fluttering right where his cheekbones are. You bridge the gap to kiss him back properly this time, slowly, and he licks at your top lip and your teeth and he tastes the slight mint flavor from the weed and the taste of sweet wine. Sometimes when Tom is high or drunk enough, he feels as though his body splits with each half gliding through different ends of a spectrum. With his mouth on yours, he feels himself stretch back into place again. Something whole, something holy.
He pretends that you didn’t just hear him mumble “missed you” in between your kisses, choosing to distract you by working down your neck. You’d always loved that, he has you memorized, and his stomach aches when he bites into your flesh ever so slightly and you whine. God, he can’t help himself. Tom knows this is a bad idea and that he should stop, but it’s like his mouth was made to be on your skin.
Your breath hitches and suddenly you’re on Tom’s lap, mouth fixed to his and your hands pulling at his chestnut locks. He lets a small groan that drives you certifiably insane. You’re a little too eager to grind slowly in his lap which makes the grip he has on your hips tighter. He breaks away from this only to stumble over to the door to close it, nearly tripping over himself in the process and startling you because it slams rather loudly. This makes you chuckle.
“C’mere,” Tom rasps, back to the front of you and pulling on your sleeve like a little kid towards the foot of his bed. He grabs your waist again and you’re pushed on top of him, grinding once again on his growing length. You switch places quickly once he grabs ahold of your ass and flips you over. His hands roam your body but mostly around your neck and your love handles, fingers groping just underneath your bra as if he’s silently asking your permission to touch your breasts. You bring his hand there himself and kneads your breast as he attacks your neck. “Tell me… what… you want…” he breathes heavily into the space between your neck and jaw.
You whine in response. “You know how to use your words, pretty girl. C’mon.”
Your eyes are shut because your heart is probably beating faster than the speed of light, but it’s like a spell is put over you. You’re staring right at him and his eyes are full of hunger — a sight you had only been dreaming about night after night in the past few months. From your head high, it felt like you were in a dream right then. “You… I-I want you,” you mumble.
“Want me where?” he raises an eyebrow, kissing down your stomach and tugging off your skirt.
“Tom, please,” you rasp in a weak voice just above a whisper. It’s a miracle he can hear you at all. Your eyes lock with his intently as he cascades down to your sweet spot, wet and begging to be touched.
“Please, what?” His mouth curls into a shit-eating smirk. He knows exactly what he does to you.
“Touch me, anywhere, please. Your… your mouth. Please?” you ask, gasping once he takes a finger to your clit and rubs generously. You try to hold back a moan but you can’t. You’re already unraveling and your body feels like it’s on fire. And yet, he’s just beginning.
“Poor baby. My poor girl. So pitiful for me right now,” he taunts, lapping at your folds with his tongue. Your eyes are wide with euphoria, the alcohol and weed in your system making you feel lighter and lighter. “Oh,” you whimper, legs shaking as Tom kisses your core sweetly and runs his tongue over your clit so slowly. Your head is on his pillow and you can smell him, the fresh scent of laundry and citrus fruits on his sheets. He uses the same body wash that you used to keep at your place. You hated (loved) how easily he could make you come undone, writhing under his touch when he was barely going down on you for more than three minutes.
You’re so close. Dangerously close. Pulling his curls and bucking your hips upward, he’s nearly drowning in your sweetness. Taking your desperation as a hint, he inserts a finger, then another, pumping with tantalizing strokes. Tom sighs into your warmth when you moan just a bit louder, your chest heaving with heat. “Fuck,” you rasp. “Fuck… I’m—“
Your walls constrict around Tom’s slender fingers until he hits your g-spot, causing you to nearly shriek. “Tommy, please…”
He lifts his mouth an inch above your pelvis and you whine in protest. Smirking, he kisses you there again and his voice is low and full of lust. “Gonna come for me? Yeah?”
“Yes… please keep going,” you reply with neediness. Seconds pass and soon you’re riding your orgasm like a wave, tenderness in the pit of your stomach that blooms like a flower. Your eyes were screwed shut so hard that when you open them the ceiling is different colors until a pair of brown eyes settle on your face. Tom is on top of you now, knee in between your legs and hands on your throat as he peppers your jaw with sloppy kisses. His hand caresses your cheek and turns your face towards him.
“So cute when you come,” he murmurs, stroking your hair. “Feel good?”
“Mhmm” comes out like a mewling sound. You’re still a writhing mess under him. You’ve probably forgotten your own name. In response, you kiss him passionately with more force than before. His eyelashes flutter in surprise and he groans once your hand hooks around the back of his neck once again. Your hand reaches down to his groin and rubs against his hardened length. “You have too many clothes on,” you say. Tom chuckles and unbuckles his belt, pulling his jeans off of him. The moan in your mouth says more, and now his bare chest is underneath your fingertips. So pretty.
Tom pauses and pulls away from you with a look of concern on his face. The first moment in the night where he genuinely looks slightly embarrassed. “You sure you want this?” You nod eagerly. He crawls over your body to his nightstand and pulls out a condom. “Off,” he whispers, fingers hooked around your red panties. Tuesday, it reads, next to a small embroidered cherry. He chuckles, taking in the sight of you looking like a kitten with longing, hair fanned out over his pillowcase. He missed this, the sight of an angel on his bed.
“So wet for me,” he coos, rubbing your clit again before stepping out of his briefs and rolling the condom down his length. You’ve already discarded your top.
“Shut up,” you mumble against his mouth, and now you’re the one pinning his arms to the bed, lowering yourself onto him. “Fuck,” Tom groans against your shoulder, biting it to suppress his voice from getting any louder. “You’re so fucking pretty, y/n.”
His hands are tangled in your hair as you ride him. He can feel you smile against his neck. You love the way your name falls out of his mouth unconsciously during this whole thing while his fingers rake your shoulder blades down to your ass. Tom flips you over and enters you again, thrusting harder while you whimper at the pressure inside you. How heavenly he feels inside of you, reaching all the right places. You can’t believe this is happening. Especially after all these months of absolutely nothing, and here he is, fucking you like you’re the only person in his world.
Your face is screwed from the impact and Tom thinks this is probably one of the best nights of his semester. Year, even, considering he hadn’t seen you in so long. Not like this. “Feels so good, fuck, yes,” you moan. You gasp when his thrusts get harder and his finger settles back to your clit. “Oh… oh, god. Tommy!”
“You’re going to make me come if you keep saying my name like that,” Tom growls into your ear. He nibbles at it, licks you in the sensitive spot that you like right behind your ear, then cascades to your neck to leave marks.
“Tommy, please,” you whimper, slight tears falling from your eyes because of what he’s doing to you — making your entire body vibrate and light up like fireworks. He shuts you up with an aggressive kiss as his hand is wrapped around your throat tightly. His thrusts get sloppier as he covers your mouth with his hand. Your eyes are lulling, half closed from the bliss. When he pulls his hand away, your lips look bruised, though neither of you can tell if it’s from your smudged lipstick or a wine stain. “So pretty like this,” he whispers, tasting your gasps in his mouth. Neither of you can speak after he lifts your legs up high to hoist around his shoulders, giving him even deeper access to your core. His mouth moves to your tits, sucking your nipples in his mouth. With a vigorous thrust he groans loudly. You can tell he’s close by the way his face is scrunched up, distracted by the feeling of you and you only, because he can’t even form a sentence. The pressure inside your pussy grows again and heat takes over the whole of your body until you reach your peak. “Fuck! I’m gonna… I…” you trail off and gasp when the orgasm hits and suddenly Tom is moaning into your mouth again, legs going slack as he comes inside of you shortly after. His body falls on top of yours as you both breathe heavily in the dark. Drenched in sweat, he gets up to remove the condom and falls back into the bed next to you. Silence falls around the room besides your labored breaths.
For some reason, shame causes Tom’s face to flush, because although he was just inside you, he doesn’t want to look at you. No, he does, he thinks he could stare at you forever until the end of time, but not right now. All he knows is that he wants you, has always wanted you, and now that he’s had you, he feels as if he had broken something very delicate. Broken an unspoken rule between the two of you. You’re quiet next to him and he peeks at you from the corner of his eye. He can’t make out your facial expression — whether you’re calm or angry or neutral. You’re just staring at his ceiling and your chest is rising and falling just in time with his breaths.
He should probably apologize. But who the fuck says ‘sorry’ after sex?
“You don’t have to tell me it was a bad idea. I already know,” your voice sounds robotic and it makes me him want to cry.
“That’s really what you think?”
You turn to him now, your face cold. “I already knew that was what you were thinking.” You sit up and pull your underwear back on, protectively crossing your arms over your chest as you step over him to get your phone from the windowsill. Before you can get it, Tom grabs your arm and you turn around to see his pleading face.
“Please, y/n, not everything has to be a conflict,” he begs.
“But it’s already there. It’s… it’s really obvious,” you reply meekly, wiping your face. You curse your vulnerability once again because here you are, starting to cry while you’re naked in Tom’s room. Your ex-boyfriend’s room. “Um, we’re both really fucked up right now, huh? It was a mistake. People get horny really easily. We’re… dumb.”
“Baby, come here, please,” Tom looks at you sadly, cradling you into his arms. “I… I’m sorry for everything that happened. I just want you next to me right now.”
You’re cold and frozen like a statue, looking up at him with tears prickling your eyes. You don’t know what to say. Let me leave you. Let me be the one who fucking leaves this time.
“I don’t regret what just happened, y/n. I… I love you.” Before you can react to his words he kisses you, this time in a way that is much more desperate than before. This isn’t supposed to be happening. He’s supposed to kick you out.
You can’t help but kiss back. I love you is the only thing echoing in your mind right now. Sure, he’s said it to you countless of times, but it feels like it’s been ages since those three words held as much weight as it does right now. Tom stops kissing you once he can feel your warm tears against your face, the saltiness hitting his mouth. He grabs your face gently and your eyes are screwed closed. “Please look at me.”
You shake your head like he’s a nightmare you’re trying to wake up from. “Please, y/n.”
This is probably the most you’ve ever heard him say please and I’m sorry.
“I love you, too,” you whisper, but it sounds more like a small croak because of your tears. “I don’t want to leave.”
“So don’t. I promise I won’t, either,” he says.
Something inside Tom snaps. His heart aches at the sight of you and suddenly the memories of all your tears from months ago flood into his brain. He realizes he never wants to see you like that again. He takes his shirt and wipes your face with it. You blow your nose into it instead, which harbors a laugh from the both of you.
You move towards his dresser and pull out the first t-shirt you can find. It’s very large, comically large even for him, and it has the Captain America symbol on it. You turn around and sneer. “You are so fucking lame.” Tom giggles.
“With that attitude, I’ll make you sleep on the floor.”
“Yeah, right. I can sleep on the floor if you want.”
“No! I need you in good shape tomorrow. I’m gonna make the best post-hangover breakfast you’ve ever seen,” Tom replies, throwing on his discarded t-shirt and combing his fingers through his unruly hair. His eyes are lit up at the sight of you in his clothes. It’s been too long.
“Am I gonna die from it?” you grin, lacing your fingers with his as he ushers you back to the bed.
“…Maybe.”
Some things never change.
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tom-holland-parker · 20 days ago
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Kinktober Day 1
OVERSTIMULATION 
pairing: Tom Holland x reader
Word count: 459
Warning: 18+
Kinktober masterlist// masterlist
Tom made it very clear when you started your relationship that there were rules for you to follow. Most were simple: Don’t forget to drink water, eat three meals a day, etc. He liked to take care of you and these rules were his way of making sure you took care of yourself when he wasn’t around. But then there were the rules you just couldn’t follow no matter what. Don’t get it wrong, you tried really hard to follow them but tonight you just couldn’t, which led you to this very moment.
Your entire body was shaking as you came for the 4th time that night, or maybe it was the 5th, 6th? 
To be honest you lost count a long time ago, tears fell from your face as your hands ran through the mess that was Tom's hair, “Please baby I can’t take it anymore”
Tom chuckled against your clit as he shook his head, the motion making your eyes roll back with pleasure, “What’s my one rule?”
You fought to catch your breath as he sucked roughly on your clit, “D-dont touch myself w-without permission” You stuttered as you felt the familiar painful pleasure build in your stomach.
“And what did you do?” His voice was mocking as he fingers thrusted roughly into you. “I-I touched myself without permission”
“You wanted to cum and that’s what I’m giving you, stop being ungrateful and take what I give you. I can easily edge you for the rest of the night, is that what you want” He roughly slapped your clit before rubbing circles around the hardened sensitive bud
“No” You cried out as you came again, your hips trying desperately to inch away from Tom. The lines between pain and pleasure blurring as the need to cum became overwhelming, “But I’ve learned my lesson, please baby I’ll be a good girl”
“Shut up and cum for me” His demanding voice made you cum on the spot, your vision went white and for a second you thought you were going to pass out.
A sigh of relief escaped your lips as he got up from his place between your legs. You laid there, numb and paralyzed, unsure if moving was an option for you. Tom smiled at how wrecked you looked as he kneeled next to you, helping you raise your head slightly as he gave you some water to sip on, “thank you” you whispered, your voice sore from the constant moaning.
Tom chuckled as he placed the water on the nightstand and returned to his place between your legs, “Don’t thank me now, we’re not finished”
You whined in defeat as you felt his lips return to your clit. You were in for a long night
---
tag: @mskatharinak
390 notes · View notes
lovewasted · a month ago
Note
Tom going to the gym with you and he's too busy making threatening every guy who stares at you to actually work out
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warnings— overprotective!tom, maybe possessive!tom, language
notes— this was shit but
blurb sleepover (closed)
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that bloody treadmill.
tom's been sat on the weight lifting bench; not lifting a weight. too busy staring at the narc that's been eyeing you on the elyptical.
can't blame him, her ass looks s'pretty in those biker shorts
shutup, that's only your ass to look at div.
he internally battled with himself. whites of his knuckles evident, whilst his palms balled into fists. he will willing to sacrifice his own work out to help you, aware of how men react to a woman with little to no clothing on. but you were adamant on doing something for yourself, in the headspace to listen to any playlist that came to mind, calories shredding off in fits of sweat.
the middle aged man observed the small of your back, and the way the firmness of your cheeks built from the pace of your jog. or the way your chest bounced from the stomps of your tennis shoes against treadmill rubber.
tom wanted to fucking slam his face into the base of the elyptical, and make the creep beg for tom to let up.
worst part, he knew you were with tom. orbs not removing themselves the moment the two of you walked into the semi-packed gym together. causing a scene was out of the question, as he's on his feet shoving the man's shoulder, few grey hairs standing straight up on the backs of his arms. peering at tom in your aligning vision, results in you pressing the pause button on both the treadmill and the music icon on your phone.
"think you could stop staring at my girlfriend?"
tom's accent is thick and the glint in his features should make the figure he's hoovering over aware that if he doesn't get up in the next few seconds, tom is bound to perform what he learned in boxing class.
"m'not looking at her, she-"
"she nothing, walk away."
he wants no trouble, and is willing to pussy out and prance to the elyptical on the other side of the gym. stopping in his tracks, he knows tom could take him. muscles prominent and jaw clenched with ease.
"alright man! sorry."
"m' sorry too! m' sorry that you can't have my girl! and-and m' sorry that her ass looks perfect enough to touch but-"
"tom!"
his curls adorning the nape of his neck are strong with your warm breath. the male maneuvering past tom, overbearing with a grit of his teeth. your voice alone was enough to make him come down from the adrenaline high and defy the enlarged grimances of the gym customers. turning on his heels he grins, your mouth still and numb.
"lovie, uh... the perv was almost foaming at the mouth over you. had to say something..."
a sloppy grin splayed on the corners of your lips. delighted with his sudden flustered emotion. you throw your pair of warm arms about his neck, a peck landing place on his sculpted nose.
"just don't almost kill someone next time."
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hollandsmushroom · 5 days ago
Note
Tom is recording reader cooking and then he shows up on screen and you can see both of your hairs are wet and his fans are all over on twitter like: THEY WERE DEFINITELY FUCKING
Wet Hair || T.H
Word Count: 691
Warnings: allusions to sex
You swayed softly to the music as you stirred the pot in front of you, the sauce bubbling and boiling as you hummed. It had been an idyllic day, you spent all of it with Tom since he had just got back from filming so there truly was no better place for you to be than in his arms. Hours passed with you intertwined with one another while doing the simplest of things, answering emails and watching TV you were tangled in affection. It took all of the energy that you had(lazing can be exhausting) to get yourself to get out of bed and make dinner, but that wasn’t before you washed away any and all of the sleep and sweat(and sins) that had accumulated on your body throughout your day, and Tom opted to join you.
He followed downstairs after you, you having already started making both of you food. The sight he found made his chest clench and his breath quicken. You looked stunning, your insync movements with the beat of the mellifluous song that floated through the speakers, the evening sunshine casting shadows across your face and highlighting you with the lambent rays of golden hour. It was picture perfect, something stolen from old literature or torn out of an aesthetics journal, and yet you were standing right in front of him with all of your glory and he needed to capture the moment. In silence he propped his phone up against the bowl on the counter and pressing record before he stepped into frame. His wet curls drooped down over his forehead and hid his bashful brown eyes that were still entirely enraptured by you.
You were so caught up in your gentle movements and the gold marble beneath your feet that you didn’t even notice Tom’s presence until he wound his muscular arms around your waist and pulled you back into his chest. The action earned a surprised squeak from you but it quickly turned into a giggle as you looked over your shoulder at his grinning face. You quickly turned the stove off and turned around in his embrace, facing him chest to chest.
“Hi” he mumbled, his eyes flicking all over your face and taking all of you in.
“Hi” you whispered back, bumping your nose against his and pressing a soft kiss to his lips before pulling back. Your foreheads pressed together the both of you swayed back and forth for the next few songs but eventually you needed to finish making dinner and you reluctantly pulled out of his arms and he begrudgingly marched over to his phone.
He watched the video back with a cheek achingly large smile on his thin lips, he was watching himself hold you and there was arguably no prettier thing that he had ever seen. He couldn’t help himself, he needed to share the moment with all of his sunflower yellow beauty, so he posted a snippet of the both of you swaying back and forth with your wet hair tangled and eyes glued. He didn’t think anything of the video until after dinner as he was washing the dishes and you came in, doing the same thing to him that he had done to you earlier in the day as you wrapped your arms around his waist.
“Everyone thinks we spent today going at it like rabbits” you mumbled nonchalantly but your words caught Tom's attention and he ceased the flow of the water before turning to look at you.
“Now why would they think that?” he wondered as he searched your face.
“That video you posted, all the comments are about our wet hair and how we are looking at each other” you explained, placing soft kisses to his jaw as you did so
“Well, they are not wrong” Tom chuckled, pulling you tight to him “But that is between you and me, and who knows, maybe we could do a couple more things that are just between you and me?”
“I think I would enjoy that greatly, Holland” you agree as you tug at his hand, pulling him towards the doorway.
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spideyyeet · 12 months ago
Text
What’s That?
Peter Parker x stark!reader
Request: Imagine peter x reader are having sex and Morgan stark is your little sister and she walks in on you 2 and starts to ask inappropriate questions and they Morgan tells your dad Tony stark and he gets mad and overprotective about reader and pepper is there as well
Warning: smuttttt, language, fluff, slight angst
Oh lord I made this so fucking dirty🤭🤭🤭
Gif not mine :)
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“Yoo chillll.” You said swatting Peter’s hands as he tried to wrap his arms around you.
“Please, I almost died.” Peter whined dramatically as you looked over the edge of the roof, the cops leaving with the robbers you and Peter caught. You pulled your mask down from your nose, turning around, Peter’s arm coming around you.
“You’re so needy all the time. Make it make sense—“ Peter cut you off with his lips. His hand going down your lower back to rest comfortably on your ass. His lips moving desperately against yours.
“Can I not love you?” Peter mumbles, his tongue running up your lips, your jaw going slack, letting Peter slip his tongue in yours.
“You’re so dramatic.” You roll your eyes making Peter let out a breathy laugh.
“Wanna take you right here. Fuck you against the roof. Wanna feel you, baby.” Peter mumbles in your ear, nibbling and sucking under. You moan softly, his words going straight to your core.
“Steve doesn’t want us out past ten.” Your voice shakes as Peter’s hand cups your clothed heat. Your suit was thick, but knowing it’s Peter’s beautiful hand pushing up makes you moan.
“But I can smell you, you’re so wet. Just know your cunt is dripping on those pretty white panties I saw you wearing earlier.” Peter’s low and husky voice making your pussy clench, leaning your head back.
“Fuck Peter.” You sighed, feeling Peter smirk against your neck, his tongue lapping at the skin.
“Want you pretty girl, see you fall apart here. Want the whole block to know you’re mine.” You whimpered, hand grasping his curls—
“L/N, Parker, you were supposed to be back thirty minutes ago.” Steve’s voice echoed through your coms, Steve overriding both your suits.
Peter huffed, dropping his head on your shoulder.
“If you both aren’t here in twenty minutes, I’ll have both your asses on the line.” Steve barks, making you roll your eyes. “Am I clear?”
“Crystal.” You and Peter grumble. You hear the static as Steve disconnects. Peter groans into your neck.
“I fucking hate Steve like this—“ Peter starts.
You hum. “This week he’s been so strict.”
Peter nods. “I think it’s cuz of last weeks mission.”
You cringe. “Okay but it’s not our fault though.”
“The truth serum was fucking real!” Peter exasperates.
You nod frantically. “They won’t believe it until they can’t lie.”
“Exactly.” Peter rolls his eyes. “We should probably get going.” Peter whispers, eyes dark, curls falling over his face, his fingers tilting your chin up, pulling your lips to connect with his. Peter opens his mouth letting his tongue slip back into yours. You moan into his mouth—
“Eighteen minutes!” Steve barks.
“Jesus!” Peter pulls away.
-
You walk into the compound. Peter following behind you, shaking his hair, mask in hand. He whispers in your ear, your cheeks flush—
“Stevie wants you in the big table room!” Morgan calls out from the couch. Her toys laying around as Pepper plays with her.
Your head falls back, groan coming out.
“He’s in a mood.” Pepper warns.
“When is he not.” You comment, before walking down the hall. Peter’s hand on your lower back, holding his mask over his crotch to cover his slight bulge.
The doors slide open, revealing Bruce, Tony and Nat sitting at the table. Steve was leaning against the wall talking to your dad.
“It’s about time.” Steve announced as he caught you and Peter walking in.
“Chill, nothing happened.” You grumbled, earning a warning glance from Nat.
“Doesn’t matter, we agreed everyone’s back from patrol by ten, unless there’s an emergency.” Steve says, crossing his arms.
“You guys agreed, I don’t remember agreeing to anything.” You said, Peter was taking a seat.
Steve pinched the bridge of his nose. Bruce decided to step in before things escalate.
“Okay, you guys weren’t that late. What’s the report?” Bruce kept a leveled voice, calming you down. Peter decided to take the lead, letting you sit down, unzipping your suit jacket, revealing your black tank top underneath.
Peter’s eyes caught your chest, his body heating up. He quickly averts his gaze, letting Steve discuss the mission for Friday.
You were playing with your fingers, unbeknownst by Peter’s stare, until you finally looked up, catching his dark eyes, instantly making your cheeks flush, stomach jittery.
Peter bit the inside of his cheek as his eyes racked over your figure again, the slight sweat drying from your chest. The way your cheeks were still flushed from both him and patrol.
“Okay you guys are excused.” Tony said, Peter instantly pulling your hand— “Wait y/n.”
“Yea, dad?” You stopped, Peter behind you, thumb rubbing the back of your hand.
“Morgan was asking about you all day, shower and change and maybe watch a movie with her or something, okay?” Tony said, skeptically looking at Peter jittery behind you.
“Yea totally.” You nodded, quickly getting pulled out by Peter.
Your cheeks were flushed, body burning as Peter’s arms wrapped around your waist as he kissed your neck down the hall.
“Still wet for me baby?” Peter mumbled into your skin, as you both drew closer to your room. You sighed in response, opening your door, just for Peter to quickly push you in, kicking the door closed as he turned you around. His hands pulling your hips against his, kissing you deeply. Your eyes closed as Peter guided your lips with his.
You moaned, opening your mouth, your hands coming around his neck as Peter bit your bottom lip, drawing a whimper from the back of your throat, a smirk pulling at his lips. His hands drifted to your ass, ushering you to jump.
Your legs wrapped around his torso. Your heart fluttered, Peter held you up with one arm under your ass as the other stroked your jaw, brushing some hair out of the way, hand holding the side of your face, his thumb trailing over your lips, pulling at your bottom lip.
Peter’s eyes were focused on you, your head lulled back, giving him perfect access to your neck. Peter licked up the column of you neck, before sucking on your skin desperately. The warmth from his lips on your skin, had your body heating up.
Your hands ran through his hair, your core pulsing as Peter groaned against your neck. He squeezed your ass making you moan and continued his kissing as he carried you to the bed, kneeling on the side before letting you fall on the bed. You bounced slightly, biting your lip as Peter’s hands were on your waist as he buried his face in the crook of your neck.
“Wanna taste your pretty fucking cunt baby. Gonna have you cum all over my face before I drive my dick ‘til your falling apart under me, yea?” The dirty words were just flowing from his lips, making you moan. “Good girl.”
“Peter.” You were putty in his hands. Peter sadly had to rip himself away from you. Standing beside the bed as he pressed the spider on his chest. You tossed your suit jacket off the bed ready to pull the rest of your suit off before Peter was holding your wrists.
“I wanna take em off. Okay?” You nod, biting your lip, watching Peter kick his suit to the side, coming back over to you with his boxers loose on his hips, your eyes trailing the v-line that dipped under pointing at the very obvious tent of his boxers. Your hands automatically reaching for him. Peter kissed you, his hand coming up to tilt your head, tongue going deeper and messier.
Your legs wrapped around his waist, lifting your core to rub against his bulge earning a deep groan from Peter. “So fucking needy. Gonna behave for me?” Peter was only ever dominant in bed when he was desperate, he loved it when you took the lead, but it made him twitch and cock leak knowing you’d do anything just to let him have his way with you.
You nodded frantically. Peter clicked his tongue. “Words baby. Cmon, tell me you’re gonna be my good girl.” Peter bit your neck, you moaned, voice shaky.
“I’ll b-behave—gonna be your good girl. Peter.” You whimpered as he sucked a nice bruise on your collarbone, his hand massaging your breast over your top.
Peter hummed in approval, before pushing your shirt over your head. Your brows furrowed when you saw Peter sit up slightly, then you felt him start tying the loose top around your wrists, securing them together. You felt a new flood rush down to your core, trying your best not to buck your hips up.
Peter came back down, noticing your chest heaving and cheeks flushed.
“Like being tied up?” He smirks smugly, his thumb grazing your lips, pulling your bottom lip down, your tongue slightly hanging before Peter ran his tongue over it, spitting on your tongue. Your thighs clenched around his waist, feeling his salvia run down your tongue before he slipped his tongue into your mouth, making you moan. “Like being all spread out for me, eh? Let me play with my babygirl?”
He trailed his wet kisses down to your breast, making you whimper. He then realized you still had a bra on, nibbling on his lip, he knew you’d get mad, but he did it anyway. He unclasped the back before snapping both of the straps and tossing it away. Surprised when you didn’t protest.
“You’re not mad?” His eyes softened, biting his bottom lip. You shook your head.
“I’m so fucking wet Peter, you can rip all my fucking clothes and I’d still do anything for you.” Peter’s cock grew at your words.
“Shit.” Peter crashed his lips back on yours, he was breathing against you, your tied hands clenched as Peter rolled his bare chest against yours, feeling your breasts.
Peter finally came back down sucking on your nipples, flicking his tongue before going to the other and tweaking at the wet one that was hardening. He sent shivers through your body as you moaned, biting your lip as you looked at the mop of curls on your chest, his eyes looking up at you as he played with the nipple in his mouth. Your mouth was agape as Peter winked, his tongue going down your abdomen, making your stomach clench in anticipation.
Peter started unbuckling the straps around the waist of your suit, he tossed the few daggers on your thighs on the nightstand, you were growing impatient.
“Peter it’s fine just take em off at the same time,” you blurt, Peter mumbling a quick sorry and okay before he was tugging your pants down, quickly pulling your shoes off as well, you chuckled lightly as you watched him struggle to get the pant leg from your feet.
“You always take it off so easily.” Peter grumbles, finally getting it off. Throwing it on the floor before getting ready to take your socks off.
“Wait keep em on.” Peter looks at you with a quirked brow. “My feet are always cold.”
Peter chuckles, mumbling an okay, before holding your waist and kissing your lower stomach. You bit your lip, Peter’s hand coming up to twist your nipple making you moan. His fingers twisting both nipples, shaking your tits, smiling at your noises.
He continued to tease you, sucking hickies on your inner thighs now. “God, you’re soaked baby.” Peter bit his lip at the prominent damp spot on your panties. You whimpered as you felt Peter press his lips on your clothed cunt.
Smirking against you, he pushed his tongue against your clit, making your hips jump. “Peter.” You moan, looking at him intently.
Peter winks, ripping your panties and tossing it. He notices you clench around nothing, his cock hard as rock, but all he could think about was burying his face in your sweet cunt.
“So fucking pretty,” Peter says spreading your lower lips open, seeing you clench. He took a bold lick up, tongue warm against your cunt. You let out a moan, chest heaving as Peter moves his tongue against your slit, before circling your clit. Peter has a huge smile on his face as his eyes lock on you. Your head thrown back and chest pushing out, hands bound over your head.
Your legs rested on his shoulders as Peter sucks on his slender fingers, making you bite your lip at the salvia trickling down his hand before he was pushing two fingers inside you, pumping at a relentless speed, you break into a loud moan, whining as Peter curls his fingers, moving his head around as he slurps at your pussy. You tug at the tank top that was tied tightly. You could control elements, but Peter is has super strength. You could burn it off, but you were to busy swimming in the pleasure of your boyfriend mercilessly eating your pussy out.
“Peter. Peter—“ you were panting his name, arms flexing as he kept going. You were whimpering and spreading your legs wider, grinding your cunt up. He was taking big breaths, panting agaisnt your pussy before diving back in as his fingers hit spots inside you that had your hips bucking and stomach curling.
“Can feel you baby—cum for me.” Peter mumbled, pushing his tongue agaisnt your clit.
“Shit Peter shit!” You were shaking as Peter swiped his tongue one last time before you were bucking your hips, body convulsing and cumming on his tongue. Peter replaces his finger with his tongue, slurping at your cunt, before kissing up your waist. His body grazes yours, bulge pushing against your sensitive pussy.
“Always taste so sweet.” Peter licks his lips swiping the excess with the back of his hand before crashing his lips on yours.
You melted in the kiss, slowly coming down from you high as Peter kicked his boxers off, your eyes grew noticing his angry cock pulse. Peter sat up on his knees between your open legs, the veins on his cock looked like they were going to burst, the tip pink and leaking, his cock twitching in the air needing to be touched.
“Fuck.” Your pussy clenches, Peter held the base of his cock spitting down on it, moving his hand spreading his salvia around. You bit your lip as you looked up at Peter’s face as he shook slightly from the pleasure of his hand, his chest rising and falling.
“Got me so fucking hard baby,” Peter groaned, hips swirling with his movements. You were moaning at the sight of your boyfriend touching himself. He finally started rubbing his cock between your wet folds. Slapping his cock on your clit a couple times, your hips bucking at the contact, Peter smirked to himself as he saw you wiggle on the bed.
“Love how responsive you always are. So desperate for my dick, eh?” You nod, your chest glistening with sweat making Peter bite his lip seeing your breasts push out with each breath you take.
Peter pushed his tip against your clit, circling it slowly making your mouth fall agape, knuckles white.
“Please Peter, fuck me.” You beg, Peter had told you to behave, but even he was desperate and couldn’t last with the teasing.
“Gladly.” His cock rammed into your cunt, your body jolting at the fullness of having his cock inside you. You moaned, chest heaving as Peter held your waist, thrusting into you, balls slapping your ass as wet noises filled the room.
“Shit—so fucking tight.” Peter groaned as he kept going, looking down at your hands wiggling as you looked up at him desperatly. Peter whimpered under your eyes as he kissed your neck. “Fuck I love you so much.”
You whine in his ear, bucking your hips trying to meet his thrusts. Peter’s mouth fell agape against your shoulder as he planted his hands beside your head picking himself up slightly, going faster.
“Peter?” Your mind was foggy.
“Yea baby?” Peter grunted, looking down at you as you moaned.
“Pleas—please let me touch you. Please Peter.” Peter noticed your hands still bound above your head. And he desperately wanted to feel your nails mark his skin and tug his hair.
Peter reached over and ripped the fabric, setting your wrists free. Your hands instantly went to his back, legs still wrapped around him, making it easier for Peter to rail into you.
Your head was thrown back as Peter’s arm fully wrapped around your back, your body hovering over the mattress slightly as Peter panted chasing his high. You tugged on his curls making Peter groan loudly.
“Like this baby, feels so fucking good, pussy drenching my dick—“ Peter slapped your ass as he pounded harder, your head thrown back—
“Y/n come on let’s watch—oops.” Your head snaps to the door seeing your toddler sister standing with her hand over her mouth, staring at you and Peter.
“Morgan!” You shriek, hitting Peter shoulder causing him to grunt looking up you, brows furrowed until he finally sensed the door and there stood Morgan, giggling.
“What’s that?” She points at Peter.
“Oh fuck!” Peter pulled out, grabbing your pillow, covering his front. His chest was flushed and heaving, both of you sweaty and panting. You covered yourself with the thin blanket of your bed as Morgan continued walking in the room, mindlessly.
“What were you guys doing?” Morgan itches her nose cluelessly.
“Nothing, just uh...playing a game.” You answer, chest heaving, whimpering slightly at how fast Peter had pulled out. Peter looked over at you concerned.
“Hi Petey.” Morgan cheers, Peter pushing a smile.
“Hey bean.” Morgan beams at the nickname.
“Why was y/n screaming? Daddy says I should scream if someone’s hurting me. Were you hurting y/n?” Morgan ranted, her little brows furrowed together.
“Wha—no, no I wasn’t hurting her. She was uh erm.. she was....happy.....screaming? You know when you get happy and start cheering.” Peter tries to explain, watching Morgan start to nod.
“Ohh yea.” She smiles again, shifting on her feet as she points to the pillow on Peter’s lap.
“Can I play with your toy Petey?” Morgan asks.
“What? The pillow?” Peter looks at Morgan confused.
“No silly, the long toy under the pillow.” Morgan chuckles, only for Peter’s brows to furrow even more, only for you to gasp beside him, hand covering your mouth.
“She’s talking about your dick Peter.” You whisper yell chuckling. Peter’s eyes go wide, face pale.
“It’s-it’s not a toy Morgan.” You try to stop the questions but Morgan just laughs shaking her head.
“Yes it is. You said you were playing a game.” Morgan says, Peter’s jaw clenches as he looks over at you, embarrassment clear on his face.
“Well it’s a big kids toy.” You said, Peter’s mouth falls agape. “Only big kids can play with it, so you’re not allowed.”
Morgan huffs, crossing her arms. “That’s not fair.”
You shrug. “Oh well, I don’t make the rules.”
“Daddy said you and Peter are always hanging out without me and it’s not fair!” You screw yours eyes shut.
“Morgan please—“ you try.
“No!” She snaps. “I’m telling Daddy you and Peter are playing games without me!”
Peter’s eyes go wide. “No Morgan don’t—“
“And Petey, you shouldn’t look at a girl when her boobies are out!” Morgan says, door slamming behind her.
You and Peter stare at the door, mouths agape.
Peter speaks first. “What in actually literal fucking fuck just happened?”
“Peter.” You rest your head on his shoulder, arms wrapping around his neck, burying your face in the crook of his neck.
Peter’s eyes soften. “I’m sorry I pulled out so rough.” Peter soothes your hair as he rests you down on the mattress, kissing your neck. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” You grasp his curls.
“I need you.” You whimper, Peter humming as he slips his hand into the blanket, cupping your dripping heat.
“What about Morgan?” Peter asks, massaging your pussy, soothing the soreness. His finger spreading your arousal, circling your clit.
“She’s just upset, she’ll just watch uhhh something with Pepper.” You said, kissing Peter’s chin, then jaw. “Please Peter.”
Peter kisses your lips, moving the pillow as he opens your blanket back up. His cock didn’t take long to harden again, pre cum dripping on your cunt before rubbing his tip on your clit—
“What the fuck!” A screech comes from the door.
“For fucks sake.” Peter groans covering you quickly as he covers himself with the pillow again. He groans into his hands as you huff.
You hold the blanket tightly. “Please dad, not now—“
“Not now?!” He shrieks, gagging, holding a hand over his mouth. Morgan pops from the corner, making your jaw clench.
“Hugging is one thing. Dating is another thing. Kissing is another-nother thing. But sex!” Tony’s face was contorted in anger, but gagging again.
You hold the blanket close to your body as you notice Peter tense beside you.
“God you should’ve knocked then—I’m really sorry dad but you really don’t have a say at all so please leave.” You speak, avoiding eye contact, causing Tony to chuckle, also avoiding eye contact with you.
“I don’t?” Tony glares at Peter.
“Dad—“
“My fucking daughter.” Tony grits, just as Pepper came running in, noticing the scene before her.
“Tony—“ Peter starts.
“It’s Mr. Stark to you.” You nibble on your lip nervously.
“Mr. Stark.” Peter swallows a lump in his throat. “I-I uh—“ Peter was scared to the bone, stuttering over his words.
“Tony, cmon.” Pepper comes to the rescue, pulling Tony’s arm.
“Pepper, Morgan fucking walked in!” Tony said, Pepper nods.
“Language, and we’ll have that conversation later , but their sex life doesn’t concern us.” Pepper states, nodding at you as you smile at her softly.
“That’s my daughter, and there’s a fucking boy spilling his horny hormones all over her and corrupting her.” Tony seethes.
“Firstly if anything, it’s y/n corrupting Peter, and they’re adults Tony. They’ve been dating for months, and you’ve known Peter for years. Stop over exaggerating and give them their space.” Pepper once again pulls Tony’s hand with hers.
“This conversation is not over.” Tony directs at Peter, who gulps.
“but the toy daddy—“ Morgan starts.
“Out Morgan.” Pepper gets both Tony and Morgan out of your room, pushing them away, before turning back to the both of you, awkwardly sitting on the bed.
“Protection always. No “I forgot” or “heat of the moment” bullshit.” Pepper points at the both of you, who nod frantically. “Lock the door.”
And with that the door shuts, you quickly press the screen above the bed, locking the door. Throwing your face into the pillow, groaning loudly.
“Y/n?—“ Peter nibbled on his bottom lip, looking over at you, laying on your stomach.
“That was so embarrassing, I don’t think I’ll ever leave this room—“ you speak, the pillow muffling your words slightly.
“Is your dad going to murder me? Do you think they saw anything?—i-i mean there was the blanket and your leg when I was—“ he itches his chest. You turn your head to the side, so you can see Peter sitting in the middle of the bed, playing with the pillow on his lap.
“They still caught us Peter—oh my god, my dad—“ you fake gag. “why couldn’t it have been Bucky or Nat or literally anyone else—“ you cover your face, your body curling, blanket slipping slightly.
Peter crawled beside you, stroking your jaw, leaning down to pepper your face with kisses. “I’m sorry.”
Your brows furrowed. “Why’re you sorry?”
“It’s my boy horny hormones that wanted to fuck my girlfriend on a dirty ass roof during patrol and didn’t stop talking until we finally did and then her little sister walked in talking about my hormonious dick, and then I still wanted to fuck you after she left and then my girlfriends dad walks in and talks about my dick and then Pepper walks in talking about my dick.” Peter drops his head under yours, face burning, hugging you desperately. “I’m sorry my dick always wants you, baby.”
You were trying your best not to laugh, but you couldn’t help it. Your hand holding Peter’s curls as you tilted his head up to meet your eyes.
“You’re forgetting that I was begging for your dick Peter, my god you’re such a baby.” Peter pouts at your words, burying his face in the crook of your neck.
“The room smells and the sheets are covered in sweat and that was probably the best sex ever and i didn’t even cum,” Peter whined, pushing his body further against yours, surprisingly his cocky was still pulsing. “God I’m so tired, and my arms are sore and my legs feel like jello.” Peter was on the verge of tears. You knew Peter well enough to know he cries out of frustration and anger. So what you’re witnessing right now, is a very sexually frustrated Peter.
“Peter.” You soothed, scratching his scalp as you carefully laid him down beside you. Peter looked up at you with big glazed eyes. “I’ll take care of you.”
You gently trailed kisses down his chest, kissing his nipples as Peter sighed. His body was jittery, and sensitive from being so close all night. So it didn’t take long for his cock to stand tall.
You slurped at the precum, tasting yourself as well, making you shake and moan. Peter’s head went back, chest heaving as you took him Ik your mouth. Your eyes looking up, moaning.
“Fuck—fuck—“ Peter’s strangled moans echoed through the room, hand balling the blanket. Arms flexing, as he held the back of your head, bucking his hips up, shaky moans slipping past his lips as his cock hit the back of your throat.
Peter moaned loudly at the sight of your flushed face, tears brimming at the corners of your eyes before slipping down your hot cheeks.
“Oh fuck—so fucking beautiful—“ Peter was groaning, not giving a fuck about how loud he is. He was trying to decide if he wanted to cum in his pretty girls mouth, or watch her ride him and see her fall apart on top of him— “baby, baby—“
You looked up at him confused, a string of salvia coming as you let go of his cock. Your pants making his cock twitch and touch your bottom lip.
“Fuck—baby, ride me please, please wanna see you on top.” Peter was pulling you up, you slipped falling on his chest, before sitting up with a small shy chuckle.
“Thought you wanted to cum—“
“I do, fuck I really do, but I wanna make you cum again, is that okay?” Peter rubbed your thighs, you hummed with a smile, Peter’s coming your heat, pumping a few fingers making you gasp.
Peter bit his lip as you took lead, grasping his cock and lining his tip with your entrance. You sighed shakingly as you sunk down, Peter’s hips bucked making you moan.
“Move baby, god, i won’t last—“ Peter watched as you rode him, your cunt hugging his cock so snug and warm. Your arousal sloshing filled the room making Peter moan, his thumb pressing at your clit.
Your nails scratched down his chest, eyes clenched shut panting.
Peter was trying his best to hold back, wanting to engrave this moment in his mind. You were beyond fucked out, you were marked with hickies on various parts of your body. Your hair a complete mess, your socks snug around your feet, your cheeks flushed and lips wet with his salvia, cum and yours. You were utterly gorgeous.
“I love you baby,” Peter moaned, sitting up to grasp the back of your neck, crashing his lips on yours, his free hand rubbing your clit viciously, instantly sending your over the edge. Your moan muffled by his lips as he bucked at a unruly speed.
“Not in me Peter,” you sighed against his chest, Peter groaned, pulling out quickly, you sat on his thighs, pushing him to lay back down as you twisted your hand a couple times before a low moan erupted from the back of his throat, his cum shooting out, hitting your face and chest, falling on his lower stomach as well.
It was a mess.
Peter’s eyes were fluttering, grinding his hips with your movements as you continued to pump his hard cock as more cum shot out, your mouth agape, as some cum coated your tongue. You swallowed his cum, Peters body curling even more, pushing more cum out, moaning loudly.
Sweat covered his chest as he whimpered. Tears dried on his cheeks, eyes glazed, squirming when you sucked on his sensitive tip, swallowing the cum still leaking.
“Y/n,” Peter whined, shaking in your hand as he watched you climb up, face covered in his cum. “Oh baby, I didn’t mean too—I’m s-so sorry,” Peter reached out for you, being met with your lips on his, tongue going into his mouth.
Peter moaned, slowly coming down from his high as you soothed his hair with your hands. “I love you too,” you mumbled into his lips, feeling Peter’s smile.
You laid on the messy bed as you both cooled down, before stumbling up to clean everything.
You avoided your dad like the plague for a week. Peter however had a lecture/yelling conversation with Tony the morning after. Morgan was confused by the whole situation, but still asks to play with Peter’s toy, which always has Peter flushing and excusing himself from the room in embarrassment.
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vendettaparker · a month 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
@ptersmj @princessofguineapigs @peterbenjiparker @cherrytholland @itsapeterthing @justapurrcat @kelieah @iovebug @celestialholland  @hollandcrush @scarletspideyy @blissfulparker @spidernerdsblog @spideyspeaches @andilovetowrite @sinisterspidey @hollandsdream @annathesillyfriend @lovelybarnes @white-wolf1940 @wierdteenagenerd @arvinsescape @super-not-naturall @allthisfortommy @selfcarecap @misshale21 @morganwilliams @loveaffaire @tomfknholland @pogueslandia @tomshufflepuff @bi-lmg07 @aayaissaa @sophiaparkerbarnes @runawaywithmyghost @micaelaf05 @hallecarey1 @a-daydreamers-day @holland-styles @cloudyfeel @peni5parker @tomsoxytocin @slut-for-steve-rogers @vavilip @kitkatt18-blog @kittkatt2015 @kitkat2015-blog @bookfrog242 @slutforfics @wildxwidow @hollandsfirstlady @hollandswife @writesforholland @hollandsrecs @theonly1outof-a-billion @thevelvetseries @moonchild-s-blog @ottitt @lmaotshollandd​ 
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blissfulparker · a month ago
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How about a mobTom x sensitive reader, where toms not used to having to be gentle and carful to people, and they get into a fight and Tom yells at her -cuz that’s what he usually does in arguments but she ends up crying and he’s just like…… ‘umm, shit’. Lol, lots of angst and fluff at the end? <3
Growing up with three brothers, a father who trained him to be stone cold with no emotion, and a mother who only showed up in parts of his life, he didn’t know how to deal with emotion. Specifically female emotion.
When you first started dating, a period came to a shock as him. He wasn’t stupid, he knew girls had it, but didn’t think they’d cry over animal shelter commercials. Dating you was a learning experience for him, dealing with so many emotions was a learning experience for he was so use to people fighting back.
Fighting back. That’s what was happening right now. Tom had an important meeting he stressed over and currently your sweet words were quite overwhelming to him. He straightened his tie as you scurried around the room trying to make sense of his meeting.
“Tom, please, it’s a dangerous part of town—“
“I’m a dangerous man darling, you knew this when you signed up for this relationship.” He groans as he grabs his cologne and sprays it on.
“No, you lied to me and told me you were an accountant and then when you knew I was in love with you you told me you were a—“ you swallow your words a the last part, not wanting to say something you’d regret.
“Say it (y/n), say it. Mobster. Killer. Whatever your pretty little brain thinks just say it. I’ve heard it all anyways.” He turns to you, your eyes big and starting to turn red. He never used your full name unless he was mad.
“I wasn’t going to say that Tom.” You whisper off. Your heart was pounding as you hated fighting with him.
“Yeah,” he lets out a fake laugh. “Right.” He adjusts his watch and turns to the mirror one last time.
“Just listen to me when I tell you—“ snd that’s when he snapped.
“Dammnit (y/n)!” His fist meets down with the vanity and the mirror shakes. Maybe it was his voice that shook the mirror as well.
He’s been better at controlling his anger since you two have been dating, Harrison calls you a saint for that. But sometimes he accidentally snapped.
But your bottom lip quivers, you blink back tears and now want him gone so you can cry in peace. You sniffle and he sees your emotion from the mirror.
“Sweetheart, fuck I’m—“ he walks over with open arms and you turn away.
“No, it’s fine. Go, I don’t want you to be late.” You hold your arms around your body as you feel a tear fall already.
“No, darling, it’s not fine. I’m sorry I yelled. I didn’t mean it.” He wraps his arms around you and that’s when you start to really cry.
Toms body goes stiff, all of this was still new but Harrison told him when a girl cries you have to comfort her, tell her how pretty and sweet she is. But of course tom fucks even that up.
“You look really pretty right now?” He tried and you pull apart confused.
“What?” You say through tears. But then you realize quicker than he does that he isn’t sure what to do.
“I love you a lot?” He tries again and you only fall back into his shoulder. He takes a deep breath, trying his words again.
“I didn’t mean to yell, I know you’re scared but I’ll be okay. I’ll have the maid send you up some tea and snacks. Just get settled in okay? Don’t wait up for me, I’ll be home late. I will come home though, I promise.” He kissed the top of your forehead and you nodded.
“Just be safe? You’re still human.” You remind him. Your words were so innocent, so small but they held so much meaning to tom. You told him that the first time he told you his life story.
“I will.” He pulls your face out of his chest. The winces as the Prada he wore was now covered in his girlfriends tears. But he still presses a kiss to your cheeks and strokes them carefully. “No more tears?” He makes sure and you nod.
You watch him leave and so what he says, the maid brings you tea and you fall asleep watching some movie you forgot the name of. When Tom came home he covered your body up with the sheets and got unready himself.
He was learning alot, there was alot to learn when it came to you and emotions but he was getting better. With each period he knew what to expect and he knew better than to yell for you yourself even once told him you liked civil conversations.
His arms wrapped around you in comfort as he kissed your forehead and fell asleep. He needed you, everyone saw it. You kept him grounded and made him a better person, the person everyone now loved was created by your love. But you loved him the most, mobster or not.
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poguesholland · 2 months ago
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No Sleep | Tom Holland
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It was one of your first times sleeping over at your boyfriends house, Tom. You can’t sleep in bras, but also don’t want to make Tom uncomfortable by taking off your bra, which Tom quickly learns.
Warnings: suggestive themes if you squint.
A/N: I realized that I do a lot of bra related imagines but that’s only because I try to write the most realistic scenarios I can imagine happening. Leave requests for me in my inbox!
“C’mon love, come into bed with me already” Tom whine as you finish your night time routine. You laugh, looking at him through the mirror in the bathroom. He lifts the covers from your side of the bed and pats the mattress as if to signal for you to come lay next to him. “I’m almost done, Tommy” you smile at the adorable man waiting in your bed for you.
You were wearing a silk pajama set from Victoria’s Secret consisting of a pink tank top with pink ruffle shorts. You untied your hair from the bun it was in and closed the bathroom lights, jumping into bed with who you swore could be the hottest man to walk the Earth.
Tom immediately wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you close into his body, spooning you. Him being the big spoon and you being the little spoon, as usual. You giggle at his eagerness, leaning into his warmth as he covers you both using the bed sheets.
Deciding to watch some Netflix, you pick a classic and put on ‘Friends’ to fall asleep to. Both of you watch the show peacefully, laughing quietly at the show even though you’ve watched it a million times before. Tom begins to drift off and after a couple of episodes, he’s fast asleep with his head in the crook of your neck.
You quickly take out your phone to open Instagram and take a picture of him, captioning it “My sleepy boy” and posting. This is was normal as you never thought twice before posting on Instagram, you thought it was there for you to enjoy and post random snippets of your life. Mostly pictures of Tom, but his fans weren’t complaining and neither were you.
Two hours go by and you still can’t fall asleep, a feeling of frustration beginning to spread through your body. You decide to just watch the show and eventually, you were going to fall asleep, right? Wrong. Hours passes by and you found yourself still struggling to fall asleep at Three in the morning.
Turning off Netflix, you begin to shift to find a comfortable position to sleep in but failed miserably. You knew why you couldn’t fall asleep but refused to give into it. You can’t sleep with a bra on. It’s impossible for you. Bra’s are way too uncomfortable, painful and just tiring. But the last thing you wanted to do was take your bra off. Why? Because you were too shy to do so around Tom.
It’s not like he would judge you but this was only your second time sleeping over at his place during the summer. In winter, you sleep in an oversized sweatshirt of his so it’s not too noticeable. But you were wearing a thin tank top, so it would be very noticeable this time. The last time you slept over, both of you fell asleep in your clothes because you were exhausted from the long day of press conferences and much more, so you found yourself struggling this time.
You continued to shift, whining in annoyance until you accidentally woke Tom up. “Darling, what’s wrong? Why aren’t you asleep?” Tom groaned sleepily, his voice sounding raspy in your ear and you knew he wouldn’t sleep until he made sure that you were okay. “Nothing Tommy, go back to sleep. Everything’s fine” You whispered to him but shifted again.
The bed creaks as Tom sits up to rub his eyes and gain some consciousness, turning on the lamp on his night stand. “Y/N, Love, it’s Three O-Clock in the morning. Did you not sleep at all?” He questions, peeking at his alarm clock, making you turn around to face him. “No I’m just not that tired” You lie, horribly. You were a terrible liar, which Tom was aware of, and the eye bags under your eyes gave it away.
His hand goes to brush your hair out of your face, “I’m not stupid, love, what’s the matter?”. Tom’s voice is laced with concern as he stares at you pleadingly. You shut your eyes in annoyance with yourself, sighing as you sit up next to the sleepy boy.
“I can’t sleep” You hesitantly admit, sighing while looking away from Tom. “You don’t say?” Tom jokes, smiling sheepishly making you blush in shyly. “Is it because of me? Was I too heavy on you?” He tries to guess, making you feel guilty that he was blaming himself. You turn to face the concerned boy, your hand caressing his cheek with a soft smile on your face, “No, Tommy. You’re fine, my love”.
“Then what is it?” Tom asks again, leaning into the palm of your hand and leaving a kiss on it. “It’s stupid” You huff, hiding your face with both of your hands. “Hey, hey, hey.” Tom leans down to your face, a hand resting on yours to slowly rub his thumb over it. “Y’know you can tell me anything, love. Don’t say it’s stupid, alright?” He coo’s softly.
“It’s just, I- The thing is- I don’t, No- I can’t sleep,” You begin to ramble and uncover your face, looking anywhere but at your boyfriend. “Breathe, darling, breathe.” Tom calms you down by cupping your face and you let out a deep breath, “Now tell me slowly, yeah?”. “I can’t sleep in a bra” You mumble under your breath and Tom furrows his eyebrows in confusion.
“Alright, Um,” He clears his throat before speaking up again, “So maybe don’t sleep in a bra?”. In all honesty Tom didn’t understand where the issue was. “I cant.” You huff and look at him, making eye contact. “Why not, darling?” Tom asks, trying to be as understanding as possible. You shift a bit in place, “Because I’m sleeping over... here”. “And that means that you have to wear a bra to bed?” Tom squints his eyes, trying his best to make sense of what you were saying. You nod like what you were saying made the most sense ever.
Tom licks his lips, “Why’s that again?”. A whine leaves your mouth, not understanding what Tom didn’t understand, “Because you’re sleeping next to me, Tom”. “Yes, and? Darling, I’m a little lost, help me out here” He edges you on. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable” You admit. “By not wearing a bra?” “Exactly”.
“Y/N, why would I be uncomfortable by you sleeping comfortably without a bra?” Tom raises an eyebrow in confusion. “I don’t know, guys usually get weird about girls not wearing bras so I just didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable, I guess” You try to reason but Tom looks at you like you’re speaking gibberish.
Tom shuffles closer to you, a hand of his moving to your waist. “Well, I don’t know what other guys you’re talking about but it doesn’t matter to me. What matters to me is that you feel comfortable, all the time, especially when you’re with me” Tom admits, speaking quietly.
You keep the eye contact, aweing at how amazing the man looking at you is. “If you don’t want to wear a bra, that doesn’t concern me. It’s up to you, my love” Tom caresses your cheek, feeling upset that you put yourself through discomfort just to make sure you don’t make him uncomfortable.
“Tom, are you sure? Because I can just suck it up and wear a bra, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable in any way-” You’re cut off by Tom placing his thumb on your bottom lip, shutting you up as he smiles at how adorable you are. “Yes, I’m a hundred percent sure, darling. Alright? But please talk to me next time, you know you can always be honest with me” and you nod immediately making a smile appear on his face.
Tom leans in to connect your lips slowly, pulling away to see you blush. “Thank you” you say shyly, almost so quiet that he wouldn’t have heard it. “I love you” Tom reassures you, your head resting on his shoulder while looking up at him. You reach your head up to leave a kiss on the corner of his mouth, “And I love you”. Tom cuddles you closer to him, before pulling away and leaving you confused.
“Just a second” He states, his hand reaches behind your back and you feel his warm hand go under the tank top. In one swift motion, he un-clips your bra with just two fingers. You gasp lightly, laughing as he pulls your bra over your arms and throws it on the chair across your room. “How did you-” You turn around to face Tom with an impressed look on your face to see him smirk playfully.
“Look at the time, we better get to bed!” Tom jokes loudly, as if he were avoiding your question. Turning off the lamp, he pulls you in by your waist and slides down the bed in a sleeping position quickly, making you squeal. Pulling the covers over both of you again, Tom leaves a kiss on your neck. “Goodnight, darling” “Goodnight Tommy”. And you swore that the guys you’ve dated before Tom were pigs, not men, after seeing how understanding he was.
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hollandcrush · 9 months ago
Note
Ok what about tom posting a picture in his bathroom and in the picture you can see the two handprints on the shower stall where you were getting absolutely railed just a few moments ago, and the fans are talking about it on twitter and stuff lmao that would be so funny
ahahha i love your mind !! i had so much fun writing this. hope you like it x (requested part two - sleeping beauty)
in love with an idiot
word count: 893
warnings: slight smut, talk of impregnation, fluff, one booty grab, cursing, and tom being a div.
“Shit, darling.” He panted, reaching his climax. His cock twitching as he unloaded every drop deep into you. Your walls clenched around him, milking him as he painted them white.
The glass was foggy, due to the heat of your bodies and the water that streamed, soothing your sore muscles. Hands were pressed against the glass, along with your chest, as you both came down from your highs.
Once your breathing calmed, and bodies relaxed, Tom pulled out, a mix of arousals seeping out of your core. The sight was pure porn, causing Tom to groan. “If you aren’t pregnant now, I don’t think you’ll ever be.” He chuckled letting the water clean his body.
Your legs were shaky as you stood up straight. Tom wrapped his arms around you, supporting you as he pulled you close to place kisses on your cheek and temple. You giggled at the softness of your boyfriend. “Tommy, what’s your obsession with getting me pregnant. I told you, gotta put a ring on it first.”
He pouted at your statement. “Darling, I’m gonna marry you, but the thought of you pregnant with my kid- fuck.” He moaned against your ear.
You rolled your eyes, quickly cleaning your body with the water. For some reason, shower sex always happened after you went through your routine, too lazy to repeat the process, water would have to do.
Finished, you quickly turned off the jets exiting the shower, Tom following close behind. You grabbed a towel, drying the excess water off your body. Tom began to hum a tune, doing the same. You loved his voice but refused to admit it as you knew he was quite self-conscious about it.
Enjoying his soft voice, you were interrupted by your phone buzzing from the bedroom. You scurried to the sound, leaving Tom to his own demise. Wrapping the towel around his waist, he took a glance in the mirror. And he liked what he saw. He had bulked for a movie and now was cutting. Abs were defined as well as his pelvic bone. Knowing his fans would go crazy, he decided to tease the fangirls and boys with a quick and harmless thirst trap.
Grabbing his phone from the countertop, he opened up the Instagram app, posing in front of the mirror before taking a quick snap. He smirked while pressing the post button. Your voice rang from the other room, talking to a friend about some drama. He quickly fixed up his appearance, drying his hair with the towel before walking to join you in the bedroom.
You bit your lip, phone held up to your ear, not paying attention to your friend anymore as you watched his naked body stroll to the dresser. Unable to resist temptation, you gave a quick grab to his ass as he picked out sweats from the drawer. “Darling!”
A quick laugh slipped from your lips at his reaction before you placed your attention back on the conversation. The only words leaving your mouth were “really”, “no way” as your friend continued her rant. Tom got comfortable on the bed, waiting for your arrival. He watched as you tucked the phone between your ear and shoulder, multitasking as you began to get dressed.
“I will see you soon! Okay. Bye, bye.” You said as you hung up the call. Letting out a huff you threw your phone onto the bed. Tom spread his body, like a starfish, welcoming you to cuddle. You accepted, jumping into his arms. “Oof.” He grunted at the collision. “Lil baby. Weakling.” You mumbled.
Just as you were getting comfortable, Toms phone rang. “Its Harry.” He announced, answering it.
“Mate, how are you?” He quirked seeing the familiar red curls appeared on his phone.
“You are a fucking div.” Harry stated at the oblivious boy. “Yeah mate, you're a proper div.” Harrison's voice added.
“What are you on about?” Tom groaned at their insults. “What did he do now?” You interjected.
“Y/N, you promised you’d babysit him!” Harry exclaimed, causing Tom to furrow his eyebrows. “Babysit me? I don’t need a babysitter. You’re annoying me now Harry.”
“Check your IG.” And with that, he hung up.
You flipped around so your back rested against his chest, to have a better view of his phone. Tom did as told opening up the app, clicking on his new post. He immediately went to the comment section.
tomhollandlover1996: TOM AGSHSJKL NO. WHO IS THE LUCKY GIRL!????
jakegyllenhaal: It hurts to find out this way :( I’ll be sending your lawyers the divorce papers.
tuwaine: someone is having fun... 
“Tom.” You growled, “What did you post?” 
“I just posted a normal picture. Look!” He explained, showing you the pic. At first, your eyes were distracted by his physique but they widened when you noticed the background, jaw instantly dropped. You were in love with an idiot.
“Tom, the glass.” Tom's eyes snapped towards the area in question. “Oh fuck.” He mumbled, his features grimaced realising his mistake, preparing for your lecture.
“You can see the handprints– my tit prints as well. I, I am speechless. How– I mean. Fuck Tom.” You huffed in frustration, annoyed at his careless antics.
He cleared his throat trying to lighten the mood. “So, I guess I should introduce you to my fans. Maybe a cute appreciation post?”
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blindingdutchy · 3 months ago
Note
No but tom fucking me while he wears a hoodie is something I have spent a LOT of time thinking about
okay okay, i couldn't see this and NOT write something so...
lazy lover | t.holland
{boyfriend!tom x fem!reader}
word count: 2,022
warnings: smut... as expected
warnings: unprotected sex (wrap it up folks), oral (f receiving)
Moments like these were your absolute favorite. Just you and Tom, cuddled up on the sofa with the soft illumination of the television solely lighting the room. It was storming outside--loud, heavy rumbles of thunder shaking the house slightly, and you could just barely make out the startling flashes of lightning over the tops of the closed drapes.
Perfect weather for snuggles and scary movies, but Tom being the softy he is absolutely refused to watch anything of the sort. So, you'd resigned to watching some romantic comedy for the millionth time. If you were honest, you hadn't watched a single moment of it; instead, you had spent the past hour just closing your eyes in bliss as you carded your fingers through your boyfriend's messy curls and smiled each time he giggled at the screen.
He was your favorite movie, by far. You wished you could see his face, but from this angle you could just barely make out the adorable crinkle of his nose each time he grinned. Tom was sprawled out on top of you, his head nestled over the middle of your chest, and his legs were all tangled up with your own as he laid between them.
It was more than a little stifling in the room as you were caught up in the heat of his body radiating through his lavender hoodie and your own, both of your sweatpants clad lower limbs wrapped up in a fluffy blanket. Somehow, in both of your minds, the storm had translated to meaning cold, when in fact that was far from the case. It was cozy, though, and that made up for the slight dampening on your hairline.
"Princess?"
"Hm?" you hummed, that all too familiar flutter in your heart buzzing out through your body at the sound of Tom's sweet voice.
He nuzzled his face further into your chest, nose buried in the space between your breasts as his hot breathe scorched you through the fabric. "Mmmf yew," he mumbled, and you chuckled at the muffled sound of his words. Picking up his head, your breathe hitched at the darkened hue of his eyes beneath heavy lashes as he repeated, "Miss you."
Cozy turned to hot in an instant. In all the time you'd been dating Tom, you'd come to know one thing--miss you was not something he ever said when you'd been apart for too long. No, miss you was only spoken whenever the two of you had been too close for too long, and he was missing a little something more.
Tom's arms wrapped tighter around your middle, his face burying back into the bunched fabric between your breasts as he lazily pressed opened mouthed kisses through the soft cotton. He left a trail of wet patches in his wake, and your fingers froze in his hair as he found your hardened nipple under your shirt and wrapped his lips around it. "Tom." you gasped.
You tugged at his hair gently, coaxing his face away from your now dampened shirt to look at you. His lips were puffy and reddened from the fabric, a few pressure marks stretching across his right cheek, and he looked so... soft. He looked warm and inviting, like a mug of hot cocoa on a cold winter evening or a crackling fire during a snow storm.
Not a word had to be said for him to know what you wanted. He scooted up the sofa and further over your body until his center was pressed into yours, his lips coming down onto your own in a lazy, slow kiss. You sighed into him, parting his lips with your own as you abandoned his hair to slip your hands under his sweatshirt and trace your fingers over his bare skin.
It was languid and sleepy, like a fire that had burned itself down to a hot, glowing ember. Tom's arms were planted on either side of your head, caging you in place as he dragged his kiss from your lips and down to your jaw. He nipped at the sensitive skin behind your ear, swiping his tongue over the flesh until you whined and he sucked hard to leave a mark of his own.
"Tom, please," you whimpered, rocking your hips up into him, "I need you."
He grinned into your neck, leaving another mark for good measure before he sat up onto his knees between your legs. There was something so beautiful about him like that; this soft, sweet man bundled up in cozy layers that heavily contrasted the dark, heady burn of his gaze. His fingers tugged at the waistband of your pants, and you lifted your hips to help him drag them from your legs--panties too, leaving you bare aside from the baggy sweatshirt that had ridden up your stomach.
Eyes glued to the warmth between your legs, Tom licked his lips, "Fuck, I've missed you so much."
You bit your lip hard, shivering as his fingers ghosted over the chilled skin of your now bare thigh. Already knowing exactly what he was thinking of, you pleaded, "Please, I just want you--"
"Hush, darling," he simpered, "I want to have a taste."
Tom climbed off of the sofa, dropping to his knees on the floor beside you as he grasped your hips in his hands. Thumbs soothing over the skin, he pulled until your legs were dangling from the edge and your core was inches from his face. His eyes truly sparkled then, glimmering at you lustfully as he smiled to himself.
He didn't waste any time teasing, and your hands fluttered helplessly around you to try and ground yourself when you felt his lips wrap mercilessly around your clit. Diving in head first, literally, Tom gripped your thighs to keep them spread apart as he licked fat stripes through your folds. Sparks shot through your entire body each time he curled his tongue around your bud, swirling and sucking around the nub tirelessly.
It was a little pathetic how easily he pulled you to the edge, your stomach all twisted up in knots as you trembled all over. What else was to be expected though, when the two of you had been together for so long? Tom knew your body like the back of his hand, an expert in all the little things that made you tick--like the way his eyes flickered up to watch you watch him make you feel good.
The sight of his brown eyes watching you like a hunter watching his prey, dark and greedy, got you every time. Squeezing your thigh, Tom teasingly kissed your clit and pulled away with a cheeky wink at your groan of frustration. The tension in the pit of your stomach ebbed away, the quivering of your legs ceasing as he patted your hip and mumbled, "Slide up, princess."
Cooing at the name you loved to hear him speak, you scooted back up the sofa until your head fell onto the armrest once more. He didn't even take his pants off when he climbed back up between your legs, arms caging in your head once more. His lips tasted of you as he kissed you, tongue slipping into your mouth as you tugged at his pants eagerly.
"Please, Tommy, I miss you."
Tom's breathe hitched at the sound of you speaking his words, and a little desperately he inched his pants down just enough to free his length from them. You moaned at the sensation of his warm skin falling against your thigh, his tip slipping across the slick mess dripping down your legs. Not wanting to wait for him to make the first move, you reached down to wrap your fingers around him.
He hissed at the contact, hips instinctively rutting into the contact as he groaned, "Fuck, princess--"
The words were lost as you dragged his tip through your folds, teasing your clit for a moment before lining him up. His eyes screwed shut as he sank into you, lips parted in a silent oath, and he crumpled down until his chest was pressed to your own. Your legs wrapped around his waist, and you clutched the fabric of his sweatshirt in tight fists as you arched off the couch in pleasure.
Giving you a moment to adjust to the stretch, Tom buried his face into your neck with a muffled moan, "Always feel so perfect, princess. So tight f'me every time."
Tom rocked into you slowly, nudging deeper and making you whimper as you clenched around him. You didn't have to say a word for him to get the message--his hips pulling back before pushing forward again deeply. It felt as if you could feel every last bit of him; every line and ridge of his length dragging along your walls perfectly as you moaned.
You were clawing at his back, fingers slipping over the cotton that was somehow far more slippery than bare skin. If you had thought it was hot in the room before, it was nothing compared to the sweltering temperature between the two of you in that moment. Your hoodie was bunching further under your breasts with each of Tom's thrusts, the fabric of his own scratching at your bare skin from multiple angles.
Sure, you'd had sex with clothes on plenty of times. Rushed and risky encounters in pub bathrooms, your dress bunched up around your hips and his trousers pulled down to his thighs, but this? Tom, suddenly so desperate for you, fully dressed in a hoodie and sweatpants on the sofa? This was new, and it was hot.
The movements were lazy and slow, his lips sleepily suckling at your neck as he panted into your skin and moaned in your ear huskily. You were a withering mess, sweating all over and trying to hold onto him in any way you could to keep from drifting away in bliss. Each sloppy thrust into your heat had you calling his name, begging for that release to finally wash over you.
"Tom, 'm close."
He leaned further onto one arm, lifting the opposite shoulder to slip his hand between the two of you. His hips never faltered as he swiped his fingers through the slick mess between your legs, swirling around your clit smoothly. "Cum for me, princess, wanna feel you." he encouraged, dark eyes blearing down at you hazily.
His cheeks were all red, and his curls were sticking to his forehead with sweat. Lips parting, you panted desperately for air as your stomach began to tighten immeasurably. It was almost too much--the look of him, the feel of his cock languidly finding its home deep within you, over and over. His fingers still rubbing slow, deep circles to your sensitive bundle.
With a sharp inhale, you cried out, "T-Tom!"
The knots in your belly exploded, stars bursting in your eyes as you clenched your entire body around him. Thighs squeezing his waist tightly, fingers clawing so harshly into his sweatshirt you finally found purchase in the skin of his back, and your walls clamped down around his length. "Oh, fuck, princess!" he heaved, eyes screwing shut and nose crinkling as he stuttered in his movements.
Tom's lips parted in a guttural cry before he dropped onto you entirely, arm pinned between you as he continued to ride you through your orgasm with his fingers. He pulsed inside of you, and after a few seconds he gave a loud sigh as a warmth spread through you. Your legs were trembling as you dropped them onto the sofa again, smoothing over the fabric of his hoodie as you finally released your grip.
But, when he moved to pull away, you pulled him back and mumbled sleepily, "Can we just stay like this for a bit?"
Smiling with heavy eyelids, Tom nodded and kissed you softly, easing back down again. You groggily brushed the curls from his forehead and grinned back, humming in appreciation when he rested his head on your shoulder again. His lips ghosted over your neck as he murmured, "I love you, darling. S'much."
"I love you, Tom."
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mrs-hollandstan · a month ago
Text
You Deserve That || Tom Holland
Tumblr media
Warnings: babies, mentions of a one night stand, language, mentions of Tom not being there, near death experience, blood, childbirth, traumatized!dad!Tom, language, fluff (genuinely cannot remember if this is it, sorry if not)
Word Count: 3,985
Author's Note: like I always do, I wanted to post something to break up the monotony of posting parts of Sucker Punch (don't worry, it's coming), so enjoy this dad!Tom fic for now :)
My Masterlist || Add yourself to one of my taglists
The last thing Tom expected was for you to show up at his apartment the day you announced your news to him. You showed up with no warning, looking more pissed than ever when he opened the door. Without even being invited in, you stormed inside, thrusting a pink paper bag his way ignoring the way it crinkled as it crushed against his chest, 
"Well come on in. Good morning." He murmurs as he closes the door. You just peer over your shoulder at him, scoffing as he follows you into the kitchen and sets the bag on the island, 
"I have every right to kill you right now Holland. You're lucky I didn't kick you in the balls when you answered the door." You bite. He scoffs, 
"And why is that?" He poses. You glance down at the bag, 
"Why don't you open that?" He looks you over before sighing, reaching for it and unfolding the top with a sigh, 
"Alright then." Reaching inside without looking away from you, and watching you lick your lips, seemingly growing nervous, his fingers fall around a thin piece of glossy material. His brows furrow as he pulls it from the bag, looking it over. Pulling the other piece out, he looks it over as well, his heart pausing in his chest, 
"This is baby A, and this is baby B," You mutter, leaning over his shoulder to look at the sonogram, a bright smile on your face, "the doctor says they're identical. I think they're girls." He glances down at you wide eyed, your vibrant Y/E/C eyes meeting his, 
"You're pregnant?" You give a proud smile, lifting your sweater up to rub over your stomach, 
"Yup, the next branch of those Holland genes are right here." You tell him with a playful giggle, looking back up at Tom and letting your sweater fall back down, 
"A-and you're sure they're mine?" He asks. You nod, looking down at the sonogram, with furrowed brows of your own, 
"Well yeah, you were the only one I was with around that time, and even at that, they're twins. You have twin brothers." You reason even though that isn’t exactly how Biology works. He still can’t argue with it. You squeal as you're lifted off your feet and spun around. He sets you on the counter. You lean back on your hands as he lifts your sweater back up, running his hands across your belly. You bite your lip and watch him, 
"You're taking this extremely well. I figured I'd have to knock your ass out." You murmur. He shakes his head, 
"Why would I be upset? These are my babies. You're pregnant... you're having my babies." He tells you, voice laced with awe. You smile again, reaching out to ruffle his hair, 
"Tom Holland, a dad. Never thought I'd see that happen so soon." Leaning in, he kisses your skin, a giggle bubbling in your throat. Looking up into your eyes, he remembers what he saw in you in the first place. The way you found the best in any situation, turned the negativity into positivity. And now here you are, in his kitchen, pregnant with his twin babies and you didn't even care that you were technically a one night stand with one date behind the two of you. Your smile widened as he stands straight, taking your fingers in his. You sigh as he pulls you from the counter, 
"Okay, and that's it, that's all. Thank you for being so okay with this, but you don't have to be there. I just thought you should know about your babies." You tell him, turning away to find your bag, Tom's heart plummeting, 
"Wait a second, what do you mean?" He asks. You turn back to him, eyes already glossy. His head is cocked and his eyebrows are knit in confusion and hurt, 
"What do you mean, what do I mean? I don't mean anything to you. So I'm having your babies, that doesn't make me anything to you except the mother of your children and that's not worth anything. I was just a one night stand for you. You remember that night just as well as I do. It meant nothing and I left the next morning without saying goodbye and neither of us texted each other after that. You never called me, hurt that I’d just left you like that. It’s obvious we don’t really care for each other the way parents of kids are supposed to." You reason. He takes hold of your arms, pulling you into his chest, 
"Don't do that. You are important to me. Like you said, you're the mother of my children and that's worth more than you'll ever know." He swears, staring down into your eyes, hands rested on your arms. You hesitantly wrap your arms around his waist, relaxing into him as he squeezes you. You look up at him, sniffling and swiping at your nose with your wrist as he pulls away, 
"Now if you'd like, I want all three of my girls to stay the night at least." He says with a smile. You let out a little chuckle and shrug, holding onto the counter as he bends down, starting to untie your shoes and slip them off, 
"You really want this?" You ask him softly. He nods, standing back up and grabbing your hips, 
"Of course. Now that you're having my babies, I want to get to know you way better." He remarks. You scoff, 
"That sounds completely horrible. Knock me up and then wanna get to know me." He tsks before crouching to hoist you over his shoulder. You squeal, holding onto his shirt, 
"TOM! PUT ME DOWN!" You yell. He chuckles, 
"I'm taking you to my room." 
"TOM!" 
--- 
Tom wakes, expecting you to be next to him in bed, only to find that you aren't and a quick roll over to your side of the bed finds it cold. He snuggles into the thick comforter heavy with your sweet scent. 
Opening his eyes, he finds you sat in the window sill, a book in hand, a mug in the other. He smiles, eyes wandering down the expanse of your torso to the perfect, round belly you adorned, one of his t-shirts clinging to it but hanging off of your shoulder. Sitting up on his elbows he sucks in a breath through his nose. You look to him, a smile crossing your face, 
"Good morning daddy. The babies have been very anxious for you to wake up." You chide, standing and setting your book and mug aside. Padding over to the bed, you climb onto it on your knees, your belly posed right in Tom's face. He smiles, looking up into your eyes before running his hand over your bump. He rolls over, moving your shirt up to kiss your bare skin a few times. Running his hand over your stomach again, he feels the flutters against his fingertips from one of the little babes, 
"Good morning babies." Kissing your skin once more, he flicks the elastic band of your underwear against your skin before dragging you down to lay in his arms. You giggle, draping an arm over his side as he squeezes you into him, lips pressing into your skin. He kisses your nose, moving onto your soft lips and rubbing his thumb over your cheek, 
"Good morning my stunning girlfriend." He murmurs, huskily, thanks to his morning voice. Your cheeks burn as you nuzzle your face in his neck, 
"Good morning baby daddy." You reply, making him smile, picking at the hair tie in your hair, pulling it out and tossing it aside. You giggled as he ruffles your locks, kissing just where your neck meets your shoulder, 
"What about Stella?" He poses. You snort, 
"Tom, we are not naming one of our daughters after your favorite beer." He smiles, running his hand over your stomach again, 
"Fair enough." He murmurs. You make a noise in your throat before looking up at him, 
"I have two names I really like. Wanna hear 'em?" You pose. He nods, moving your hair around your ears. You rest your forearm on his chest once he's rolled on his back, 
"Aspen and Alexandria." He smiles as you tell him, 
"Alex then? Once it's shortened." You nod, tracing a pattern into his skin, 
"I think it's pretty." You admit. He nods, playing with the tips of your hair, 
"They're both beautiful. I like them." He confirms. You lean in to kiss his chin, 
"And you can pick the middle names." Licking his lips, he stares up at the roof, 
"Okay, how about Alexandria... Louise, and Aspen Rose?" After a moment of thought, you nod, 
"Those are two beautiful names for two beautiful little girls," you tell him, rolling on your back, and pulling your shirt up again, rubbing over the skin, "Baby A's name is Alexandria Louise Holland, and Baby B is now Aspen Rose Holland." Tom smiles, holding your hand, his thumb rubbing over your knuckles, 
"I'm a little outnumbered now. There's a lot of girliness in this house." 
"Hey, you never know. We have to be open to letting them choose if they like girliness or if boyishness is more their speed. We have to always be open and loving. Always, if we're going to be great parents." You remind him. He nods after a moment, 
"Obviously. Of course, yeah, I forgot, but yes, definitely." He confirms. You nod, holding his fingers soundly in yours. He sighs, rolling onto his side and pressing a hand over your bare belly, 
"We'll make sure they know from the moment they're here that they have our support in anything they embark on." He promises, moving down to gently kiss your belly, your fingers threading through his hair as he rests his chin over your belly, arm draped over your hips. 
--- 
You squeeze Tom's hand as you ride out a contraction in the passenger seat of yours and Tom's car. You groan, letting your head fall back against the headrest. Tom leans forward, his eyes never leaving the road, to kiss your hand, 
"You're doing amazing baby. We're almost there." He reassures. You nod, licking your lips, 
"I know, I know. I'm scared though Tom." You admit. He tsks, 
"Don't do that. You're gonna be okay. I'm gonna be right there with you no matter what, and soon, we'll have our baby girls. And they'll be beautiful and perfect." You suck in a breath, running the hand not in his, over your stomach. Letting his hand fall from yours, he reaches over, placing his hand over your stomach and rubbing. You place your hand over his, closing your eyes again, but this time yawning. 
Just the little things you did made Tom's heart swell ten times bigger. In the beginning of your pregnancy, after you told him, he would always get a text to see when he was available to come to an ultrasound. You let him keep all of them, almost as a ransom for you to move in to "get them back". You'd both look them over and rub your belly when you came to visit. After you found out you were in fact having girls, it was non-stop buying for them. Around your fourth month of being pregnant, he moved you in, setting aside a room for the nursery. You went on dates and walks, anything to make you feel comfortable and anything to make you feel like a loved girlfriend leading up to your delivery date. You made it habit to sit in the window sill before he got up, making it your mission to read at least three books before your energy went to two drooly little girls that you knew would look just like their daddy. You got through two and a half, sitting up late one night while he scrolled through a social media feed in bed. Then your water broke and you went into a full panic, practically having a mental breakdown at your little ones making a month early appearance, especially before your scheduled induction which was only a week and a half away. 
"What if I'm not ready to be a mum?" You ask, his eyes finding yours. He shakes his head, grasping your hand again, 
"You are so ready. And let me tell you, you're going to be damn good at it. These little girls are gonna have the best mum ever." You shake your head, looking straight ahead as the hospital's twinkling lights come into sight, 
"You're just saying that. I'm seriously scared Tom." You tell him anxiously. He squeezes your hand, bringing it up to your lips again, 
"I'm on this ride with you. And let me tell you something, I'm not getting off. You and I are a team and I'll be damned to let you feel overwhelmed do you understand me?" He demands. You start to nod, only to cower in pain, tipping your head back and crying out as another contraction courses through your body. You suck in a deep breath, holding the bottom of your belly, 
"Ow ow ow, okay, yes, I get it babes, you want out and mumma wants you out." You groan out. He smiles at you, letting you squeeze his hand again. You stare straight ahead, running your hand all over your stomach. He pulls into the parking lot cautiously, yet as quickly as he can before putting the car in park and leaning over the center console to kiss your bump, 
"You guys are hurting mummy and daddy doesn't like it." He murmurs. You giggle, running your fingers through his hair briefly before taking hold of it and giving a soft tug with a sharp intake of breath, 
"Sorry... just another one." You mutter, one eye staying closed. He hums as he straightens up, 
"S'alright. I'm pretty sure that was a method used in getting those two girls in there. You're quite the hair tugger." He tells you with a cocky smirk. You smile, grimacing a moment after, 
"Can you get me inside please?" You pose. He nods, climbing from the car quickly and walking around to your side. You giggled as he wrapped an arm around you, his other holding your hand. As he walks you across the blacktop, he kisses your temple, 
"Hey, you wanna get married after all of this?" He poses. You look up, a smile crossing your face, 
"Is that your proposal?" He shrugs, looking up at the bright red letter that spell out "emergency", 
"I'll have my two little princesses, all I need is my queen." He remarks. You smile again, your eyebrows knitting together, 
"Of course I'll marry you Tom." He leans in to kiss you, reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out the small gold ring. You gasp, turning it into a giggle, 
"Savvy." Holding your hand out, he slips the ring on your finger, kissing you again. You wince yet again as Tom draws to a stop at the reception desk. Within minutes you’re being helped into a gown and laying back on a bed to get an IV put in. You pout, eyes glossing over as you drape your free hand over the bed frame, 
"Tommy." You whine. He jumps up, rushing to your side and taking hold of your hand, 
"You're okay, angel. Don't even look, just look right here at me." You wince as the nurse pushes the needle beneath the skin of your hand, mumbling a quiet apology. Tom reaches up, stroking your hair and giving a gentle smile, 
"Are you ready to finally meet our baby girls?" He poses to distract you. You nod, licking your lips nervously and looking down. He pushes hair from your face, your eyes finding his, 
"I love you." He mutters, leaning in to kiss your nose. You crinkle it, 
"I love you too." Just then, yet another contraction takes over, your eyes squeezing shut. The nurse clears her throat, 
"We're going to get you started on pitocin just to speed things up a little and then we'll get an epidural in." You nod as you stare up at him, squeezing Tom's hand, 
"Thank you." Tom rubs his thumb over your knuckles, smiling as you turn back to him, 
"Just think, when we leave here we'll have two babies." He poses, raising his eyebrows. You nod, looking down at your belly, 
"And a weird tummy." He smiles, rubbing your bump, 
"That's okay. You'll still be absolutely stunning." He reassures. You smile, wincing through yet another contraction. It only takes half an hour for every few seconds to be constant pain. You slowly bruise Tom's hand, breathing hard and attempting to do anything to relieve the pain. Tom felt hopeless, especially when you broke down in tears, sobbing when things grew to be too overwhelming and all he was doing was rubbing your back and shoulders as if it would suddenly help, 
"Tom, please don't ever do this to me again." You groan. He smiles, kissing your already sweaty forehead, 
"I won't baby, I won't." He swears. And if he thought the grip around his hand was painful when you were just going through contractions, he definitely had another thing coming. 
Because they hadn't had to induce you, they gave you the choice of c-section or natural delivery, to which you chose the latter. When you had been prepped and started pushing, Tom could feel his hand being crushed, your hair clinging to your forehead while nurses and doctors encouraged you through it all. 
And that first cry from your little Alexandria was all worth it, Tom noticing that you seemed to forget the pain once you saw your baby for the first time. You looked up at Tom, a proud yet exhausted smile written all over your perfect face. You nodded with a newfound enthusiasm as one of the midwives told you that you had just a few more pushes and you were done. Taking another deep breath while Alexandria continued to cry, with Tom's eyes glued on her, getting cleaned up in the corner, you gave three more good pushes and more cries filled the room, 
"They're beautiful Y/N/N. Absolutely stunning." Tom tells you, watching your two healthy babies from above you. You make a noise low in your throat, 
"Tom?" Looking down at you, Tom is horrified to find that all the color has been drained from your face. He rubs over the top of your head, 
"It's okay." He reassures. You shake your head, eyebrows knitting together, 
"Tom I don't feel good." 
"Sir, you need to move." A nurse rushes, coaxing Tom away from you as a shout makes its way around the room, 
"What's happening to her?" The nurse takes his arm in her hold as he tries to push forward, despite you breaking Tom's heart as you reach out for him and you're wheeled from the room, 
"She's lost a lot of blood. Her BP is dropping rapidly and if we don't get her cleaned up, she could die," the nurse warns him, shaking him as he still tries to push past her towards you, "son, you have two little girls that need you right now!" She raises her voice, finally drawing Tom's eyes to her own. He could feel the hot tears already running down his cheeks, now suddenly hearing the cries of his little girls at his back, 
"But she-" 
"Just let us do our job and be a father to those babies." The nurse assures, rubbing his arm one last time before she rushes off after you and her coworkers. 
Tom didn't know it was possible to feel pain and love all at the same time. You had voiced your fear of becoming a mother so often and he had just bypassed it. He'd brushed it aside as a way to reassure you both that you were made for this. Now he was sitting in a room, by himself with one sleeping baby tucked in one of his elbows, and another squirming, whining baby tucked in the other. The smile on the doctor's face as he came in the room to talk to Tom, lifted his spirits more than the doctor could ever know, 
"Well first off Mr. Holland, congratulations on your beautiful little girls. Y/N is fine, she's just asleep, but we got her all sewn up, and she's stable and comfortable." Tom nods, glancing down at the babies in his arms. The doctor smiles wider, patting Tom on the shoulder, 
"What do you say we wheel these sweet babes down to your fiance's room?" Tom nods before the sentence fully leaves the doctor's mouth, instantly standing and laying the girls down in their cots. Once settled, he follows the doctor, wheeling both sweet little girls along. The doctor clears his throat as they approach a room, looking at his watch, 
"She might actually be awake." He chides. And sure enough, you're awake, sipping at a juice pouch as they entered the room, your eyes still puffy with exhaustion. You set your juice aside, instantly perking up at not only the sight of Tom, but of your daughters, now asleep in their cots. You lean in further to look over the tops, your eyes darting between your girls before meeting Tom's eyes as the doctor closes the four of you in the room together, bidding all four of you farewell with a knowing smile. You nod, tears instantly clouding your eyes as Tom swoops in, choked up and wrapping his arms around you. You break down the moment you're in each other's arms, his tears staining your gown while yours soak through his t-shirt, 
"I thought I lost you." He murmurs, 
"I couldn't get to you. They pulled me away and I couldn't-" You start, but Tom nods, 
"I know, I know baby. I'm sorry I lied about being by your side at all times, I'm sorry." You sob violently, clutching onto his shirt tightly. He shakes his head, "I'm so, so sorry." Pulling away, you calm yourself quickly, to the best of your ability, your chest still heaving and tears still streaming down your cheeks, 
"C-can I see them?" You ask softly, eyes darting between his. He nods, pulling the cots closer to the side of the bed and picking the first bundle up, 
"Here's Alexandria." He croons. You lick your lips, taking the babe from him and cradling her close to your body. You look up as he picks the other one up, 
"And here's Aspen." You sniffle, and the tears return, your eyes flicking between the two babies that brought you and Tom closer than ever. You had said over and over again that they would look just like their daddy, and you were right. Dark brown locks of hair settled atop their heads and they resembled Tom's very first baby picture that Nikki had showed you in the months leading up to the birth, 
"Hi babies. Hi, I'm your mummy." You coo, looking between the cutest little ones either of you have ever seen. Tom has leaned in and started stroking your hair, leaning in further to kiss your cheek, 
"You're never doing that to me again. No more babies. That's it, I can't lose you." He says softly. You looked up to him with a pout, half joking when you tell him, 
"But I want a boy." He shakes his head as you giggle and lean into his shoulder, head rested there, comfort seeping into the room, 
"I'll adopt you a little boy." He murmurs, half joking himself.
But of course, he never would because two and a half years later, due to thorough convincing, you were back in the same hospital, delivering your cute little baby boy, Teddy. 
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celestialbarnes · 7 months ago
Text
rumors | t.h
pairing: tom holland x actress!reader
requested: hello, can i have one with tom and actress!reader where you two are secretly dating, and play the game “spill your guts or fill your guts” with james cordon, lots of cute fluff please! your fics are the literal best! thank you
word count: 1.6k
warnings: none, so much fluff! 
a/n: hello! i’m back with a tom holland fic, and it’s my first attempt at writing him, and oh god, i hope it doesn’t flop, had to rewatch james cordon and i didn’t regret it, i hope you like this fic and if you did, please let me know! love you all!
masterlist 
thank you for reading! i really appreciate it love!
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“Please welcome our next guests from Avengers, Endgame, Tom Holland and (Y/N) (L/N)” you took the invitation as a cue to walk out together with Tom, both of you waving towards the roaring crowd, a smile on your face as you took your seat beside Tom.
“So, it’s been a while you two, and since both of you are here, what can you tell us about the latest Avengers movie”. James asked and you laugh, leaning back into the posh chair.
“You’re not wasting any time, are you?” You asked jokingly causing the crowd and Tom to laugh. “Of course not, it’s the most anticipated movie of the year.” James added.
“Thank God they sent you along instead of Mark” Tom said. “He’s coming tomorrow” James says, and the audience laughs.
“Don’t listen to a word he says, it’s not true at all” you say. “What can you tell us?” James asked.
“Well there’s a lot of action packed scenes, and this is the best part, during the last fight, Spider-Man and Iron-“
Before Tom could continue, you placed a hand on his mouth. “No, you don’t” you said, and Tom sighed causing he crowd to erupt into laughter.
“Thank you,” Tom mumbles against your hand.
“I don’t wanna get fired, I really like my job,” you reply as the audience chuckles.
“Come on (Y/N)! He was just about to tell us all about it” James grumbled playfully and you pulled your hand away.
“If he does, then I’m not a very good chaperone”. You joked, and James chuckled.
“Why do you say that?”
“Well you know because Tom needs his juice box,”
“(Y/N)! Not you too” Tom groaned and you laughed.
“So, this movie will combine both new and old cast members, what do you think of that?” James asked.
“I think it’s great because it’s bringing back all the characters that the fans love” Tom said, before bringing his cup of water to his lips.
“And at the same time, it also introduces new characters” You added.
“So quick question here, are there any new relationships springing out?” James asked leaning forward looking at both you and Tom.
“Any romance in the air?” James added, his voice playful and you chuckle, shrugging.
“Not any unless you’re talking about Sebastian and Anthony, then yes there is” you said playfully, everyone laughs at that knowing that the Sebastian and Anthony was known for acting like an old married couple.
Tom glances at you, and you bite your lip to stop yourself from smiling, the thing is you and Tom had been dating for a few months now, it had all started from that one kiss scene is the movie, which then lead to a date, then a second date and it didn’t take very long for the both of you to finally kiss again under completely different circumstances, and despite the rumors that were arising rapidly due to the both of you being out together more than usual, you had to applaud you and Tom’s ability to keep it under wraps, that and the rest of the cast members too who had been more than elated when the news broke, god, you and Tom never lived it down.
“We’ll be right back with more from the Avengers!” James said as they cut to the commercial.
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“Would you two mind playing a game?” You and Tom agreed easily, and as you were both led to the table behind a curtain, you groan.
“You gotta be kidding me Cordon” you said as James chuckled as you took a seat at the table, the pungent smell of the food, if that’s what you called food, overwhelmed your senses, you swore you were this close to grabbing the pail beside you already.
You were going to play Spill Your Guts or Fill Your Guts.
“Alright and we’re back and we’re going to play a little game called Spill Your Guts or Fill Your Guts” the crowd cheered as the cameras pans over to the table, the audience going “ew” at the food that was displayed in front of the three of you.
“I feel that way too,” you say casually chuckling when the audience laughed.
“So, I will ask Tom a question, then Tom, you’ll ask (Y/n), and she’ll ask me” James said and you nodded.
“And we have to eat this?” Tom asked and James shrugs, “Only if you don’t want to answer the question” the host replies.
“What questions?”
“Ah, that’s the fun part”
“oh god,”
“We have a bird’s saliva, salmon smoothie, crickets, cow’s tongue, a bull’s penis and cod sperm which I’m still not sure how they get” James said and you laugh, and looked towards Tom who visibly gagged.
“Never thought I would throw up on live television” your co-star said as he stared at the crickets.
“Yes Tom those are very real if you’re wondering” James said and you couldn’t help but laugh when Tom leaned back into his chair, almost as if he wanted to place a good ten miles between himself and the food.
“Take a whiff” James said pointing at the fish smoothie, you bit your lip picking up the glass, immediately regretting your decision as you gagged, putting it back down.
“Alright our first question for Tom,” James looked at the card, a smile forming on his face and the crowd laughed. “You’re gonna love the bird’s saliva” James as he turned the table.
“Tom, you’re known for your role as Spider-Man in the Avengers, out of your three co-stars, rank them from your most to least favourite: Chris Evans, Anthony Mackie and Tom Hiddleston”.
“I hate this already” Tom groaned, staring straight at the cocktail. “Tom if you don’t answer this, we aren’t friends anymore” you said laughing when Tom looked at James and then back to the glass.
“I don’t just wanna be friends,” Tom adds as the crowd cheers, and you shake your head, laughing at your boyfriend’s antics.
“Most to least favourite?”
“Yes, unless you fancy some bird’s saliva” James added.
“Sorry you guys but I’m going with Chris, Anthony and Tom, only because I haven’t worked with Tom before”.
“If that’s what you say” James said causing the audience to laugh.
“It’s (Y/N)’s turn, so Tom you’ll ask her a question” You watched as your co-star picked up a card, a grin on his face. “Bull’s penis seems like a good choice” He said and you let out a dry laugh.
“Best hope it isn’t yours” you said out loud as James laughed.
“Really love?”
“(Y/N), you’ve been in a few movies and television shows” Tom said pausing to chuckle, shaking his head. “Which would you say is the worst to work on” And you groaned.
“Answer it” James said in a sing song voice. You picked up a slice of the penis, smelling it before frowning, your eyebrows furrowing as you stared at the not so foreign object dangling in front of your face.
“You can’t be serious!”
“I, I have the answer but I’m not gonna, I can’t say it” you replied, biting into it.
“I can’t watch” James said, Tom was laughing watching as you spit it out, taking a large gulp of water.
“That was disgusting,” you groan, picking up a card and looking towards James, a grin on your face.
“James, cow tongue sounds great don’t you think?” you said, spinning the table stopping it when the dreaded delicacy stopped in front of the host who groaned.
“James out of the two of us here at the table, which of us is the better actor” you asked laughing.
“Who is writing these?!”
“Don’t worry James, just pick one of us, but if you don’t pick me, we’re gonna have a problem”. Tom said with and James laughs.
“That is so unfair,”
“No it’s not darling, you know you love me more too,”
“I’ll have to go with Tom and I say that because he’s been on the show before” James said.
“I’ve been on the show before” you said, exasperated.
“Just ask the next question James” Tom says jokingly and you rolled your eyes playfully watching as he pouted.
“Come on love, you know you’ll always be my favourite” Tom says causing the crowd to go “aww” you laugh shaking your head.
“So, the last one is a bonus question for both you and (Y/N)” James said picking up a card.
“You’ll both have to eat the cricket if Holland here doesn’t answer the question” James with, spinning the table so you were both faced with the glass bowls that were filled to the brim with said crickets.
“We shall see” James chuckled as he read the question.
“There’s no way Tom’s gonna answer this” the host howled in laugher.
“I swear Tom, I’m not eating that” you said pointing toward the bowl, refusing to look directly at it.
“Oh, you will” James said with a grin.
“Thomas, there have been rumours of you dating an Avengers co-star, is that true?” James asked, huge grin on his face.
“Well,”
“Answer, answer,” James started, egging the crowd on at they encouraged Tom to answer the big question, to which the brunette simply chuckles, picking up a cricket and handing it to you.
“Cheers,” you tease bumping your cricket with his before the both of you ate it.
“Does this mean you two are dating?”
“I have no idea,” you reply laughing when James replies with a “Come on!”.
“No spoilers this time mate” Tom says, a boyish smirk on his face as he places an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close, the crowd going wild as the cameras slowly pans out.
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taglists are open! feel free to fill in the taglist form (link in bio) / drop me an ask to be tagged in my fics!
a/n: that’s the end! this is my first tom fic, i really really hope that it isn’t so bad, and if you liked it, please let me know, thank you love!
leave some feedback?
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