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#tom holland blurb
hollandsmushroom · 18 hours 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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spidernerdsblog · 2 days ago
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Hey there! This request is based on the photo u reblogged for MMIH maybe one of Tom's enemies came to their house or office and trying to threaten him and our guy is with complete swag, thn his kids come running to him and he sends them back and is like "so where were we?" Sry if this is too specific 😅😅
This pic screams MMIH Tom. Hope you like this. Let me know what you think.
Match made in Hell (series)
He rules the city
Pairing : Mob! Tom Holland x Reader
Warnings : none
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The atmosphere in the room is tense as Tom sits on his expensive leather chair with a glass of whiskey in hand, the Rolex on his wrist glinting in the soft yellow light of the room. The very image of him reeks of triumph and power. In front of him sat one of his old enemies turned allies from his initial days in the mob, Arnold Mathews. Harrison is also present in the room sitting on the nearby couch keeping a watchful eye on Arnold and his men.
“This isn’t a fight or debate,” Tom told Arnold curtly, bringing the glass of whiskey to his lips. To be honest Tom is the one who is doing a favor here by hearing him out on the first place even though he has no desire to do so. He let go everything of his past life to start afresh and he has zero interest to fuck this up by digging up some old graves for the sake of old alliances. No way he is going to allow them to use him as a pawn in their fight with the Gambino's. The stakes would be a lot more higher this time with you and the kids and he isn’t going to risk it at all.
“We had a deal and it will benefit both of us, Tom,” he reminds him as Tom puts down the glass on the table smacking his lips while Arnold continues “you don’t have to do anything but give me that part of your territory,” Tom leans over on his elbows, his expression unreadable as he stared at him coldly making him lower his voice “only for a little while, just so we can strike first. You’re closer to the Gambino's. You don’t want your men to be involved in this, so what other choice do I have than to do it myself?” he squeaks out the last sentence intimated with the intense gaze Tom was looking at him.
“And how are you going to do that?” after a brief silence Tom asks.
“Your men are positioned between Bath and Bristol, give me that area so that I can take his men down” Arnold starts to speak terms “we’ll take them all down at the same time and any man who stands against us will be killed. It’s simple either join us or die like the rest of them”
“I’ve heard this all before,” Tom mutters. Tom had to grow up witnessing the whole rivalry with the Gambino's even though his dad ultimately won but a lot of lives were lost all in the name of greed for more power and territory.
“Just give me access to that area and the suppliers for the guns” he sounds desperate as he adds, “that’s what you agreed to before you left everything!”
Tom starts to get slightly irritated not liking the commanding tone of his voice as he starts to weigh the options of killing each and every one of his men in the room. It wouldn’t take much time moreover Harrison is here with him and he knows he could hold his own.
“You want me to back down, clear the path for your men?” he asks him.
“They’ll never see it coming if we take them from both your side and mine. We attack them on the border of your territory—” before he could finish Tom cuts him off.
“Yeah and then he’ll think it’s me who is behind all of this. When he gets the news of his men dying around the borders of my territory, he’ll come after me without a second thought!” he slams his hand on the table agitatedly “this isn’t me starting a war, it’s you!” he lashes out and just then the door busts open as everything falls silent.
“Daddy!” the room is filled with squeals and laughter as Nate and Leah come running into the office. Tom’s angry demeanor softens immediately and he turns his chair allowing both of them to climb up on his lap.
“Hello my loves, how was your day at school?” he asks with a wide smile.
“Good!” they answer together excitedly.
“That’s nice but where is your mum?”
“Mom is in the garage,” Nate replied. Well that explains their unannounced entry because you would never allow them anywhere near this room. You must have been busy parking the car when these two saw the chance and slipped out. Tom notices Nate and Leah looking at Arnold and his men with a frown on their faces. You both had decided to keep them away from all of this as much as possible though sooner or later they will come to know but for now it’s better this way.
“Well you see dad is a little busy with work right now so I’ll carry you back to your rooms and you wait for your mum ok?” he proposes.
“Ok daddy” they both nod. Tom stands up holding them in his arms and as he walks out of the room he is met with you at the staircase.
“There you are” you heaved out a sigh of relief “didn’t I tell you guys to wait for me? And—” you paused peering inside the room to see Arnold and his men “oh I’m so sorry I forgot you had a meeting. See this why I tell you not to come into this room without my permission”
“It's okay, darling. Nothing is more important to me than my little angels” he kisses them on the top of their foreheads “now go to your mum and as soon as I’m done with work we’ll build the new lego set I bought you” he promises as you take them from his arms and carry them to your room.
Tom goes back to his office, shutting the door behind him he asks “so where were we?”
“Tom, you really need to help us out” Arnold tells him with all sincerity.
“No I can’t and now you may leave” he says sternly “Harrison show them the way out”
“No, wait!” Arnold bangs his hands on the wooden table “what if... ” he swallows thickly as he stands up and clears his throat before looking Tom in the eye “once I take over the Gambino’s territory, we could split it.” Tom perks up at the proposal as he gives a small head tilt signaling him to continue “I want to start flooding the product in the market nearby the port area to keep the cops off our backs”
“I don’t see anything relevant in splitting the bloody damn thing” Tom let's out a humorless laugh.
“I only need his business, that's all. I don’t even have enough men to keep a check on the rest of his territory,” he says in a comical tone as if the problem’s already been solved.
“I’m sorry but I’m not interested in expanding anymore territory,” Tom states firmly, crushing away the last bit of hope Arnold had, “but I’d be happy to take a percentage of the profits” he adds “twenty percent of every quarter”
“Deal” Arnold agrees to it instantly, a small smile appears at the corner of Tom’s lips. To this day Tom always has his way in the end even Arnold’s own men stare at him in astonishment. They also know this whole deal is stupid and only Tom would end up profiting because an even-numbered war never ends well. They’ll need extra men to fight the Gambino’s but Tom will give him none. He only wishes they kill each other off like this he will hit two birds with one stone.
“Deal,” Tom says with a tight lipped smile as he outstretches his hand for a handshake.
Meanwhile you were in your room sitting in the middle of the bed with Nate and Leah sitting on either side of you.
“Mommy, who were the scary people?” Leah asks innocently, gripping on the sleeve of your blouse.
“Yes mommy I did not like them too” Nate tells you.
“Oh don’t worry my pumpkins they are no one, just some people daddy used to work with before” you say with a light shrug “you don’t need to be scared of anyone or anything ok? Mom and dad will always protect you from everything” they nod as you pull them closer to your chest caressing the back of their heads as a line of worry creases on your forehead. When Tom decided to leave the underworld you both knew it wouldn't be an easy job severing all the ties. There will always be someone popping up from time to time with some unfinished business. And now that the kids are growing up they also have started noticing things and asking questions out of curiosity. You don’t want the shadows of those horrible days to even touch them but the question is for how long? How long will you be able to protect them from his past, from your past?
..................................................................................
Reblogs are appreciated ❤️
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thesunlightofourpast · 7 hours ago
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can you do one of Tom liking how reader gets along with his family please🙏🏼🦋
approval || (t.h)
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word count: 1.2K
pairing: tom holland x reader
N/A:  And there you go! It's longer than what I really imagined! I hope you like it and that it meets your expectations. 
taglist: @angeliquekalampoka @harryhollandsgirlfriend @cedricdiggorysimpp @hogwartsmarvelmommy , @delightfulmuffinclamauthor @allthisfortommy @kimberlyemerys @mcushvft   if you want to be notified of all my future writings you can add yourself in my taglist : here
❀ ❀ ❀
There are little things that make a couple work: affection, the time you spend together, seeing in the same direction, laughter, teasing eachother. For Tom, it was all of these things, but the most important: to be appreciated by those close to him.
The first time he noticed that you had his family's approval was at an "official" family meal. You had only been dating Tom for a few months, but his mother had insisted that you come. As a sort of test perhaps. You had arrived early in the morning, Tom enjoying a well-deserved break to be the most with his family. As Harry chatted with Tom about an idea for a script they could put together. After all, what you yourself would expect when there is no work, Tom is working. Nikki had set out to find a document Dom had lost in the living room papers, arguing over it saying now was not really the time. You loved that they acted so naturally with you. Paddy was in his room, after all he was still a 17-year-old teenager and it seemed logical to you not to force your presence on him all day. Sam had just returned from Scotland and was happy to cook a meal for his family, without the pressure of work, just for the sake of cooking; a return to the source in a way. You stood up, kissing Tom's cheek so as not to disturb him too much. He was anyway, too caught up in his discussion with his brother. You calmly walked over to the kitchen and approached Sam.
 "What are you up to, boss?"
 The Holland brothers with multiple freckles turned to you, his hazel eyes on you. He didn't expect to have company in the kitchen as he worked on the meal. When Tom told you that his parents invited you to the family dinner, you found it touching when he also told you that Sam asked if you were allergic to any food. You felt listened to and included in the family without even having met them. The young cook smiled at you, shrugging his shoulders.
 "Not much. A simple Katsu curry."
 And as he continued chopping his onion to put it in a bowl, you turned your head around a bit, before opening a drawer next to Sam and pulling out a knife and peeler. The next second, you reproduced the same research expressions, not without having rosy cheeks by your daring.
 "What are you doing?"
"I'm looking for a cutting board"
"You don't have to ..."
"Shhh, just because you're the chef in this kitchen doesn't mean you have to do everything on your own."
"second cabinet to your left, top drawer".
 Sam rolled his eyes and you took out the utensil. You washed your hands and silently began to peel the carrots, but Sam gave you a smile. Tom finally noticed your absence and his head instantly turned around the room looking for you when he heard your laughter coming from the kitchen. Her eyes rested on your figure, cooking with her brother. He narrowed his eyes slightly as he admired you interacting with Sam for a few minutes. During the meal, as Sam placed the plate in front of Tom, the young chef slipped into Tom's ear a little "I like her", which made the actor smile with all his teeth.
  ❀
 The second time he noticed that his family liked you, it was a normal day at home. You were snuggled up on the couch, scratching between Tess' two ears, lying next to you. A replay of an episode of Love Island was playing on television. You didn't live here, you just spent the day with Tom, who was in the bathroom. Harry walked past you on his way to the kitchen, growling a few curses. You turned your head towards him with an eyebrow raised, puzzled by his bad temper.
 "What is it?"
"Something is wrong with my script"
 Harry and you got along well already, you couldn't tell you were close friends, in your mind you were just his brother's girlfriend, so you didn't impose your presence in the redhead's life. However, there is something to push you a little harder to bond with him. You tilted your head as you watched him make tea. Slowly, you got up from the couch to go out onto the patio, glancing at the laptop screen. When Harry returned he frowned when he saw you hunched over his computer.
 "What are you doing?"
"I think there is a lack of dynamism between these two dialogues. It does not go together. Maybe you should add some step-by-step to express the emotions of your female character. It would add some meaning and depth to it. this dialogue.
 You pointed to the sentence you found problematic and Harry positioned himself next to you, plunging his nose in front of the screen as he reread his dialogue. His eyes widened slightly and a smile slit across his face.
 "Yeah ... Yeah I think you're right. Thanks"
 He gave you a light hug, a small hug of thanks. Tom meanwhile, had returned from the bathroom, his gaze fell on you and his younger brother, in each other's arms. He passed the bay window on the terrace, a confused look.
 "What's going on?"
"Oh, I was just helping Harry with his script"
 You smiled as you stepped away from the curl. You moved back to the living room and Tom frowned at his brother, still confused. Usually, other than him, no one helped Harry write. Harry, meanwhile, nodded at Tom, as well as a wink and a thumbs-up signifying his approval. Once again, Tom's smile radiated across his face.
  ❀
And the last time Tom had his family's approval and saw you interacting with his loved ones was just now.
 You were leaning with your elbows on the table, leaning over the phone that Paddy had handed you, who was right next to you, a little tense and impatient. You watched the clips of the series he had recently starred in. The whole Holland family is extremely talented. But he had wanted your opinion because, you were more outside the circle, more neutral than his family. Yet when the video ended, all you did was congratulate and cheer her on this time, causing amazement and a beaming smile on the younger Holland's face. Tom was in the kitchen with his mother, brewing tea - it's amazing how many tea an Englishman, and especially a member of the Holland family, can drink in a whole day, a lifetime - Nikki was smiling as she looked at you, she leaned over to her son's ear, keeping her good humor fixed on her face. She could see the spark of love in her son's eyes, the admiration he had for you and that only reassured her and warmed her already big and warm heart.
 "We like her, you know? She's great."
"Yeah, I love her too, mom. With all my heart."
"Keep her safe, treat her well, she deserves it."
"I know mom. I think it's the right one."
 And he was right. You were the one for him.
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saturnpeter · 2 days ago
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Blurbie request? uh yea, i can't sleep bc I don't feel good so if you could do a Tom Holland fluff blurb that would be great! thx, love u bestie
this is Horrible and my brain is Mush but i wanted to post something ;-; i hope ur feeling better now, nonnie. this is from a while ago <3
and thank u loves so much for nine hundred 💖💞🌼
~~
everything was going so, amazingly well;
dinner with tom was nothing short of magical — the lights like chandeliers hanging above you, adding more twinkle to your already sparkling eyes that told of how in love you were with each other. his hand reaching across the table for yours, picking it up with such grace as he kisses your knuckles so tenderly. him doing that cliché (but so romantic) thing where he feeds you food off of his fork.
and of course, at the end, there was playful bickering about who was gonna pay — or at least the option of splitting the bill.
“tom, let me pitch in, it’s really no trouble at all!”
“darling, i took you out on this date and i wouldn’t be much of a gentleman if i let you pay even in the slightest”
you playfully pouted your lips at his statement but he made sure to kiss it away, only to have you a bashful mess when the cashier told you to have a good night.
he held the door open for you, making sure you were safe and sound in the house before stepping in himself, locking the door behind him. you took your shoes off and took place on the couch.
that’s when you started to feel off.
“tom…” saying his name to get his attention as he makes his way over to the couch. “yes, my love?” he replies in question. “i don’t feel so good” your hand coming to rest on your tummy, tom looks at you with concern. “what’s wrong, lovey?” he puts his hand over yours on your tummy. “my tummy… it feels off”
“maybe it was something you ate?”
“the pasta was delicious, and i love pasta. but for some reason, it’s not agreeing with me tonight”
tom coos at you, kissing your temple with such gentleness, taking your hand away from where you feel an ache to replace it with his own — going underneath your lavender sweater to rub his thumb with the same care; his warm hand feels nice against your cool skin.
“how ‘bout i carry you up to the bedroom ‘n’ let you get cozy while i make you some chamomile tea?” you you sigh to yourself and ever so dreamily at tom — him being such a romantic, like something out of a fairytale; your heart feels it, too. “that sounds wonderful”
without another word muttered, he scoops you into his arms with such grace it makes you feel like you’re dancing on a soft cloud. before taking the memorized steps to your bedroom, tom gives you a kiss that, if only just for a second, makes you forget about how icky you feel. your head remains in the crook of his neck until he places you down gently on the soft duvet.
“one of my hoodies and your comfy pants sound alright?” you simply nod and let out a small “mhm.” it’s the tiniest of gestures, but it’s so gentle and it’s tom; it makes your little heart bloom. he hands you said clothing items— his pink hoodie and your plaid pants —giving your hand a gentle squeeze before making his way to the kitchen. you bring his hoodie up to your nose, taking a deep breath of his scent and letting it waft up your nose to bring you such comfort; your eternal bliss.
moments pass by before chamomile tea, honey from the bear shaped bottle, and of course, all of his love poured into one mug makes its way back into your room, handled by one of earth’s kindest angels, steam dancing up into the air. he sets the mug down on your bedside table, smiling softly when he sees you all snuggled up under the covers.
“there’s your tea, m’love” tom mutters as he presses his lips to your forehead. you smile softly as your eyes flutter shut for the brief but loving kiss. “thank you, tommy. i feel a bit better already”
“wouuuuld cuddles make you feel even more relaxed?” tom asks, lips pursed as he draws little circles where he’s sat on the edge of the bed in front of you. you chuckle softly, making a small smile paint its way across his pretty freckled face. “of course they would, you dork! get in here!”
“alright, alright,” he chuckles softly. “just let me get changed first”
your evening begins with laughter as tom literally jumps into bed next to you, sipping on your freshly made tea as you listen to tom talk about anything and everything; his voice becoming your own, sweet lullaby; your favourite song on repeat. you can feel your body and mind becoming more serene with his heavenly voice and the tea that your sipping away on.
and your evening ends with tom taking your empty mug out of your loose hands, putting it back on the side table as you had already drifted off to dreams of him and how beautiful being in love— with him —was. he gets up for just a second to shut the lamp off, climbing back in slowly as to not wake you up. he puts his arm around your shoulders, bringing your head to rest gently on his. he kisses the top of your head gently and whispers,
“goodnight, princess”
~~
blurbie taglist; @parkersholland @parkers-gal @spideyspeaches @miraclesoflove @heavenlyholland @pogueslandia @millennial-teenybopper @hallecarey1 @n0eliiii @jacksnoodles @kelieah @quacksonholland @onyourgoddamnleft @yelenabelovalover @hollandswife @tanakaslastbraincell @parkerdarling
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celestialholland · 7 hours ago
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“my muse boops your muse’s nose” w tommy 🧡🌼💓🕊 woke up w feels for him <3
a/n: it’s currently two am and eye am yearning 😔
genre: fluff | warnings: none except maybe that this a tad cheesy but it’s me so :D
prompt: [𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐩] —“my muse boops your muse’s nose”
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Tom’s resting comfortably in your arms after a long day, he’s content with his current position—his head on your chest, and your arms wrapped snuggly around him like a safety blanket, his in turn banded around your torso.
“Missed this,” He mumbles against the fabric of your shirt. He tightens his grip on you and nuzzles his head between your chest. “Missed you,” He adds. He looks up at you, gazing into your eyes through his delicate lashes and flashes you his charming boyish grin, the ends of his eyes crinkling.
“Missed you more, baby, so much more,” You return. Leaning your head down you place a gentle kiss to his head which makes him smile, as a feeling of comfort washes over him—he feels at home. He cranes his head, his lips almost meeting yours, as he continues to peer at you through his bright chocolate brown orbs. “Missed your non-existent lips,” You jest and place a tender kiss to them, as Tom lets out a whine of protest in your mouth and you can’t hold back the smile that forms on your lips. “And your nose.” You add, and place your finger at the tip of his nose, tapping it with a ‘boop!’ sound—his crooked nose was one of your favourite features about him. Including the constellation of freckles that adorn the area.
A hearty laugh escapes from Tom’s chest at your gesture and your lips naturally quirk into a smile at your lover’s happy expression.
“God, I love you,” He says fondly. His eyes sparkle with endless love and adoration for you. He sees everything in you. You are his everything.
And he’ll never in a million years, get tired of hearing those three words that hold so much meaning, and depth to them, falling past your lips.
“I love you too.”
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tom-holland-parker · 4 hours ago
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Kinktober Day 16
HUMILIATION
Pairing: Mob!Tom x reader
word count: 648
Warning 18+
Kinktober masterlist// masterlist
You sat on your boyfriend's lap, placing soft kisses up his neck as he spoke to his men about what needed to be done before the new shipment came in next week. “And then we’ll have to-” Tom took a deep breath as you began to grind on his clothed cock. You smirked against his neck, waiting for him to realize you weren’t wearing underwear today.
“And then we’ll have to make sure that it all get distributed on time to the dealer, I don’t want any problems like we had last month”
You moaned in his ear, grabbing his hand to move it to your tits, “Tom I need you” you whispered, wanting his attention. He rolled his eyes, “Everyone out now”
You watched as the men left without a word, Tom grabbed your chin roughly, “what was that?”
You looked up with innocent eyes, “what?”
“You act like a needy whore in front of all those men”. You should’ve been mad at him but you couldn’t. His words made you wet, you could listen to him call you a whore for hours, “But-”
“No buts” he interrupted, “on the desk, legs spread, now”
You rolled your eyes, moving off his lap to sit on his desk. Tom shook his head when your bare cunt was inches from his face, “No panties, gosh when did my good girl become such a fucking slut”
You groaned at his words, you clit throbbing in need of his touch. “Please fuck me” You begged as his fingers moved through your wet folds but stopping before they reached you clit. “Why should I fuck you?” he mocked you, “Do you deserve to be fucked? Do you deserve my cock?”
“I’m sorry I want to be your good girl, please” You watched as he stood from his desk, unzipping his pants and pulling his hard cock out. He began to jerk himself, letting out low moans as he rubbed precum on his length.
“Lay back” He demanded, pushing your shoulders so your back rested on the papers that crowded his desk. You let out a scream as he roughly thrusted into you without warning. He worked your body like a ragdoll, using you for his pleasure, “You should be embarrassed by how desperate you are for me. Can’t go two seconds without humping my leg like a bitch in heat”
You moaned loudly as his fingers began to quickly rub your clit. You felt the pleasure build in your stomach, becoming unbearable as you began to clench around his cock, “Tom I’m gonna cum”
He chuckled, slapping your tits as he sped up, “Why should you cum? You’re being used for my pleasure, worthless girls like you don’t need to cum”
A wanted to scream as the pleasure quickly became painful. Tom continued his assault on your wet cunt, groaning every time you clenched around him. You couldn’t say anything as you let out a frustrated groan, Tom smirked, “You want to cum so badly, you need to beg like the worthless bitch you are?”
“Please please please Tom, I need to cum. I’ll do anything please just let me cum” tears fell from your eyes as he moved his hand to choke you. “Cum with me” Tom moaned as his cum filled you. 
You didn’t need to be told twice as your body began to shake from how hard you were cumming. Tom slowly worked you through your orgasm before pulling you onto his lap, “you did such a good job” He whispered in your ear as he kissed your face, his hand moving to stroke your hair. 
“Are you okay?” You nodded, unable to say any words, as you took a second to catch your breath. 
He kissed your forehead, picking you up gently as he began to carry you out the room “Come on baby, let's get you cleaned up” 
---
Tags:
@awesomebooklover17 @tomsholland2412 @mskatharinak @justiceemarieee  
@writesforholland @wildxwidow @hackerholland @nelly-belly @marvelgurl @marvelswhore69
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waitimcomingtoo · 5 months ago
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Mackie
Pairing: Tom Holland x actress!reader
Synopsis: any chance he gets, Anthony teases you and Tom about your relationship
Masterlist
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Anthony Mackie was onto you.
It all started when he realized you and Tom weren’t actually dating, like he thought you were.
“Which Avenger would you sleep with if given the chance?” The journalist asked you, Brie, and Scarlett during a junket.
“Tom Holland.” You answered immediately. “Oh, did you mean the character?”
The girls laughed at your answer as you shrunk down in your seat. Everyone else answered with Thor, making your answer stick out even more.
“Wait, did they ask the guys this?” You wondered. “And follow up, did Tom say me?”
“I can ask.” The journalist chuckled and pulled out her phone. “My friend Jack is interviewing them in the other room.”
“Oh My God.” Brie groaned. “Now I want to know.”
You held your breath in anticipation as you waited for Jack to text back. Finally, the journalist felt a buzz and checked her phone.
“Tom did in fact say your character.” She laughed as she showed you the text.
“He did?” Your eyes widened. “Oh my God. That’s it. We’re having sex tonight. I’m telling him right now.”
The cast laughed at your antics as you sent Tom and quick text and shut off your phone to pay attention to the rest of the interview. You knew it was a joke, but you forgot that Tom didn’t know the context of your text. So when he checked in phone in the room where the boys were being interviewed, he was quite confused.
“I just got a text from Y/n saying “we’re having sex tonight” in all caps.” He laughed in shock. “What is going on?”
“Damn.” Anthony stated. “She texts you in advance?”
“No.” Tom blushed. “We’re not even together.”
“What are you talking about?” Anthony asked. “I thought you were?”
“We’re not.” Tom insisted. He always hated when he was reminded of the fact that you and him were just friends and he didn’t want to stay on the topic.
Anthony, on the other hand, wasn’t as inclined to let it go. He leaned back in his chair and stared at Tom, always looking for new ways to bother his younger cast mate.
“Hm.” Anthony drawled. “Interesting.”
A few months later, Tom, Anthony, and Sebastian were invited to a comic con in Chicago. They were known as one of the more chaotic pairings of cast members, so the interview consisted of constant digs at one another. And of course, Anthony took any chance he got to tease you and Tom.
“You must spend a lot of time together when filming these movies.” The journalist said to the couch. “Do you guys hang out off set too? Are there any Avenger pool parties we don’t know about?”
“Look, Toms a little asshole.” Anthony began. “Him and his little girlfriend are absolute children on set. We can’t take them anywhere.”
“His girlfriend?” The journalist asked.
“I mean Y/n.” He corrected, making the audience cheer. “They say they’re not dating but we all know.”
“We’re not.” Tom whined into his mic. “Stop saying that. People are gonna start believing you.”
“Because it’s true!” Anthony insisted. “You should see the two of them on set. They’re always touching and hugging. And I’m pretty sure I caught them in the dressing room one time. I won’t say what they were doing, but I could hear the bed creaking.”
Tom turned bright red and covered his face. He knew Anthony was just teasing, but it still embarrassed him. He collected himself and held his microphone up again, ready to dish it back to Anthony.
“You’re just mad because she likes me more.” Tom said, eliciting cheers from the audience.
“Uh uh.” Anthony shook his head. “Shes loves me. All the ladies love me.”
“Not Y/n.” Tom shook his head. “She loves me.”
“I think we can all agree Y/n loves me the best.” Sebastian cut in smugly. “It’s fairly obvious.”
“Did someone say my name?” Your voice sounded from a microphone, making everyone scream. Tom, Anthony, and Sebastian looked at each other in confusion upon hearing your voice.
“Wait, what?” Anthony laughed into his microphone as he looked around. Suddenly, your characters theme song came on the speakers as you came out from backstage.
“Hi!” You came out onto the stage waving. The crowd stood up upon your arrival and became deafening. Tom turned around, caught sight of you, and bolted out of his seat.
“Y/n?” He asked as he ran towards you. He immediately scooped you up in a hug, lifting you off the ground to spin you around.
“Hi Tommy.” You mumbled in his ear as you squeezed him back. Tom set you down but continued hugging you, kissing the side of your face multiple times. The audience went wild at this display of affection, prompting you to kiss his cheek back. You walked back to the couch hand in hand, taking a seat next to each other.
“I didn’t know you were coming.” Tom said into his mic as he picked it back up.
“I wanted it to be a surprise.” You laughed, earning more cheers. “I’m filming something in Toronto but I wouldn’t miss a convention for the world. And I wanted to see you.”
Tom pouted and pulled you into another long hug. It had been a few weeks since you’d seen him, so you pressed a long kiss to his cheek.
“Do we all get kisses or just Tom?” Anthony asked, interrupting the moment.
“I was thinking the same thing.” Sebastian spoke up.
“Seb can have one but I’m not coming near you.” You teased as you walked over to Sebastian. You bent down to kiss his cheek before sticking your tongue out at Anthony.
“You look so pretty, darling.” Tom said once you sat back down.
“Please.” You rolled your eyes. “I’m so jet lagged.”
“I don’t look nearly this beautiful when I’m jet lagged.” Tom complimented you.
“Oh, I beg to differ.” You complimented back.
“Kiss kiss kiss kiss.” Anthony chanted into his mic while pumping his fist. The crowd roared as you and Tom rolled your eyes.
“Don’t start, Anthony.” You told him. “He does this all the time.”
“So I’ve heard.” The journalist laughed. “How was your flight, Y/n?”
You settled into Tom’s side as you talked about your flight and other random things. When the attention was off you, Tom slipped his arm around you and let it rest on the back of the couch. He felt you shiver at one point and realized you were sitting right under the air conditioning.
“Are you cold?” He asked you, making the audience laugh.
“A little.” You said sheepishly. He immediately took off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders, making the crowd go wild.
“Thanks, Tommy.” You chuckled as you slipped your arms into the sleeves. They were warm from his body heat and his cologne was lingering on the collar.
“Wow.” Anthony started up again. “You guys look like a couple.”
“A couple of besties.” You said quickly, making Tom shake his head.
“Uh huh.” Anthony said sarcastically. “If you guys aren’t dating, then why are you two always touching?”
“Because we love each other.” Tom snapped playfully. “You just don’t understand because girls don’t want to touch you.”
“Damn.” Anthony laughed. “Y/n, are you gonna let your boyfriend talk to me like that?”
“He’s not my boyfriend.” You replied. “We would make a terrible couple. I still haven’t forgiven him for the stamp act and I don’t see us getting past that.”
“Baby, it wasn’t me.” Tom played along. “It was my ancestors. I’d never tax your stamps.”
“Uh Uh.” You rolled your eyes. “That’s what they all say.”
“I’m gonna move on before I break you guys up.” The journalist teased, making you and Tom roll your eyes. “You guys have been playing these characters for a while so you must know them pretty well. What is something you have in common with your character?”
“That’s easy.” Anthony answered. “We’re both a cool black dude.”
“That’s exactly what I was going to say.” Tom joked, earning some laughs.
“Easy there, wonder bread.” Anthony laughed. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”
“What about you, Y/n?” The journalist asked. “What do you have in common with your character?”
“Something my character and I have in common is that we both fuck this man.” You smiled as you clapped Tom on the back. Everyone on the couch’s jaw dropped as the crowd became deafening. Tom looked at you incredulously as you laughed.
“I’m just kidding.” You laughed into your microphone. “Um, I don’t know. We’re both pretty passionate about what we believe in. And we both wear a lot of black.”
“What?” Sebastian laughed. “You can’t just say that. That was a total 180.”
“I’m sorry.” You whined playfully. “It was a perfect opportunity and I had to take it.”
“I am literally speechless.” Tom said into his mic before breaking down into laughter. You leaned into each other as you laughed, not caring if no one else found it funny.
“I’m sorry.” You giggled. “Can we move on? Next question, please.”
“All right. Let’s talk about this kiss between your character and Loki.” The journalist began.
“Uh oh.” Anthony stirred the pot again. “Toms not gonna like this.”
“I don’t care.” Tom shrugged, but it was obvious that he was lying. You rested your hand on his shoulder to reassure him as you turned to answer the question.
“I actually had a lot of qualms before filming that scene.” You replied.
“Qualms?”
“Yeah.” You nodded. “I’m good friends with Taylor Swift so the first time I met Hiddleston, it was as her boyfriend. So the whole thing gave me serious qualms. I felt like I was breaking girl code.”
“That’s surprising since you improvised one of the kisses.” Sebastian, also looking for drama, cut in. “I remember you were only supposed to kiss once and you went in for second.”
“Well that was after a few takes and my qualms had dispersed.” You shot back.
“You hear that?” Anthony smirked. “She had no qualms.”
“I still felt so bad but those thoughts were soon replaced by “oh my God, I’m kissing Tom Hiddleston.” My qualms didn’t stand a chance to him in that wig.” You chuckled. You felt Tom tense up under your hand so you squeezed his shoulder.
“I know.” The journalist agreed. “He’s very dreamy.”
“Exactly. We were three takes in and my pussy starts screaming, “get help! Get help!”” ,You mimicked Thor’s voice, “so I knew my qualms were gone.”
You once again had all the jaws dropped with your words. Tom buried his face in your neck as he laughed, his whole body shaking.
“That’s one way to put it.” The journalist said as he wiped tears. “I have to ask. Which Tom did you like kissing more?”
“I liked kissing Tom H the best.” You said cheekily.
“Ooo.” Anthony started again. “Are we about to witness a couples quarrel?”
“I think so.” Tom played along. He pretended to look annoyed with you so you cupped his face.
“I’m kidding.” You assured him. “It was so you.”
“It better be.” He insisted. “Remember you kissed me after we shot the swinging scene and we weren’t even filming?”
“Yeah.” You chuckled. “I was in love with you that day.”
“What happened?” The journalist wondered.
“Well, I grew up loving Spiderman.” You explained. “So spending the day swinging around in Toms arms while he was in the suit meant so much to me. The second Tom took his mask off, I just kissed him.”
“Is that when you started dating?” Sebastian asked.
“No. It is not.” Tom shoved him playfully.
The rest of the convention went by in a similar fashion, with Anthony taking every opportunity to tease you. Once you said your goodbyes to the crowd, you and Tom walked back to your dressing room with your arms around each other.
“I can’t believe Mackie still thinks we’re dating.” Tom sighed as he shut the door behind him.
“I know.” You chuckled before an idea came to you. “Wouldn’t it be funny if we actually started dating and didn’t tell him? Like, as a joke?”
“That would be hilarious.” Tom nodded too many times. “Like, I could ask you out right now and he’d have no idea. We could go on dates and make out and stuff and just not tell him. That’ll show him.”
“We should totally do that. As a joke.” You quickly followed.
“We should.” Tom nodded. “Imagine his face when he finds out we started dating and didn’t tell him? It’ll be priceless.”
“Ugh, I can’t wait.” You sighed happily. “He would lose his mind if he found out we finally started dating.”
“Did you say finally?” Tom asked with a coy smile. Your face fell when you realized you had said a little too much.
“I did.” You said softly. “Because it’s something I’ve been thinking about for a while.”
“So have I. In that case,” Tom smiled shyly, “Y/n would you like to go on a d-“
“Yes.” You cut him off before he could even finish. “I would.”
2 years later
On a rare day off, you and Tom attended a barbecue in Anthony’s backyard with a few of the other cast members. You were sat on Tom’s lap, full off food and contently listening to the ongoing conversation.
“These burgers are great.” Chris said as he patted Anthony’s back. “Thanks for barbecuing.”
“I got you, man.” Anthony nodded. “I actually got the recipe for the blend from one of the caterers on set. Remember that place that catered lunch with the really good cornbread and burgers?”
“I do remember.” Scarlett smiled to herself. “The filming schedule worked out so all got to eat together that day. That was so nice.”
“It was nice.” Anthony agreed. “Just sitting in the sun in our costumes and bibs. We had some fun conversations going on. I’m pretty sure that was the day Tom and Y/n started dating.”
“No.” Tom rolled his eyes. “We started dating after that one convention. Remember the one where Y/n surprised us on stage? We started dating that night.”
“Wait, you guys are actually dating?” Anthony sat up in his seat. “I was just playing with you.”
“We know. So we played with you right back.” You shrugged smugly. “We started dating to get back at you for all the jokes.”
The rest of the cast exchanged confused looks as you and Tom relished in your victory.
“But....” Anthony blinked in confusion, “you didn’t tell me until two years later.”
“Yeah. Because we were committed to the joke.” Tom said like it was obvious.
“Duh.” You added.
“Let me get this straight.” Antony rubbed his temples. “You started dating as a way to get back at me for teasing you?”
“Yep.”
“But you didn’t tell him you started dating.” Scarlett continued.
“Nope.”
“So you’ve been dating in secret for two years without him knowing.” Don went on.
“Yep.
“But....you see this as revenge on me?” Anthony asked with a tilted head.
“Yep.” You laughed. “In your face.”
“In my face?” Anthony raised his eyebrows. “How so?”
“Because we totally got you.” You bragged. “Look at your face right now. You had no idea we were actually together.”
“What an idiot.” Tom shook his head. “This guy, am I right?”
The cast exchanged another look as you and Tom continued not to understand why dating in private didn’t exactly count as revenge against Anthony.
“Okay.” Anthony said skeptically. “So let me ask you this. Now that I know about the joke, will you stop dating?”
You and Tom quieted down as Anthony brought up something you hadn’t thought of.
“Well, no.” Tom began as he looked at you. “We like dating each other.”
“So essentially, this had nothing to do with me.” Anthony concluded. “You two just wanted to date each other but used me as an excuse.”
You and Tom opened your mouths to defend yourselves, but shut them when you realized he was right. You looked at each other sheepishly before shrinking down in your seats from embarrassment.
Anthony Mackie may have gotten the better of you.
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tomhollandsstan · a month ago
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Boundaries
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Peter Parker x Reader
warnings: dark!peter, dub!con, sex pollen
Peter felt guilty, but only a little.
You stood a few feet away from him, and he couldn’t even bother trying to hide the way he was ogling you.
The way your nipples were poking through your shirt had his fingers twitching to pinch them.
Fuck.
He took a deep breathe, trying to calm himself. Balling his fists up at his sides.
It was cold outside the cabin the two of you were residing in for the mission you’d just completed, and apparently inside too.
“Peter, dinners almost ready” you smile sweetly at him and he bites the inside of his cheek at the way blood is already rushing to his cock.
But how could he help it? It was just so domestic, you cooking for him. You didn’t have to, you did it because you wanted to. Because you cared about him, but as a friend. Peter has to remind himself. And friends don’t cross certain boundaries.
But with the way your hair fell around your face as you fixed him a plate had him wanting to web swing right over all those god forsaken boundaries.
“I hope you like it, I’ve only made this dish a few times…” you chirp hopefully and Peter’s stomach churns with affection. You were so cute.
“I’m sure I’m gonna love it Y/N, you’re too good to me” Peter thanks you as you both sit down to eat. You blush at his kind words, you were going to make dinner for yourself. Of course you’d make some for him as well, he was one of your closest friends and favorite team mate.
“I’ll cook for you anytime Pete” you grin, taking your first bite and he follows suit. He doesn’t know what was better, how amazing the food tasted or the sound of you promising to cook for him whenever he wanted.
He groans as his mouth explodes with a mixture of delicious flavors. You find yourself blushing again at the sound of it, rumbling low in his chest.
His brown hair sitting in perfect loose curls on his head. Peter had always been attractive, but now he’s grown up. Broader shoulders, and a more muscular frame made for a way more confident man, assertive almost.
Peter took note of your red cheeks, a small smirk playing on his lips.
“Mmmph, this is amazing Y/N” he compliments you. And he wasn’t lying, you were an amazing cook.
“I’m glad you like it…” you hum. The way you were beaming at him made a feeling of guilt wash over him once again for what he was about to do.
You and Peter had done dozens of missions together, you had a mutual trust. Peter was the genius, you let him handle certain things and you others. Of course you were smart, and read the mission reports etc…but sometimes on a quick retrieval trip like the one you were on now; you didn’t always bother with all the details.
On this trip Peter had paid attention to all the details, like the fact that one of the things you had retrieved was an aphrodisiac from Asgard.
“Let me grab us some drinks” Peter offers, standing before you could even respond. He sighs, pouring you both glasses of wine and the aphrodisiac into yours.
Peter knows he’s betraying your trust by doing this. But he needs you. Every part of him yearns for you. As he sets the glasses down on the table, he prays one day you can forgive him.
“Mmm, is it a bit chilly in here or just me?” You question, taking a sip of your wine. Peter nods in agreement, heart hammering in his chest as he watches you drink.
“Yeah, it is kind of cold” he adds, playing it off and keeping his demeanor calm and collected. This is what he had to do to have you.
You drink and joke, no longer feeling the cold from outside like you did before. Actually; you were getting pretty warm.
Your eyes fall shut as a surge of heat rushes through you, quickly passing. You try to brush it off, but soon your find yourself gripping the table when something stirs deep in your belly. You stifle a moan, curling over to conceal yourself as your face contorts at the random feelings of pleasure.
“Y/N, are you okay?” Peter feigns innocence to your condition, knowing very well what was happening to you. Of course he did his research. He’d never want to hurt you. You’d just finally have that extra push into his arms that he needed.
“I’m fine“ you try to lie, lifting your head up only to be cut off by another burst of pleasure that had your jaw dropping in a gasp.
“Peter..” you whimper, eyes locking with his and he’s next to you in seconds.
“Let’s get you in bed” he suggests, and you agree. You strip down to your tank top and underwear, body still growing hotter and hotter. You couldn’t bother to feel ashamed right now.
Of course you’d been horny but you’d never felt like this before. Your core was practically clenching around nothing at this point and you were counting down the seconds until Peter left so you could shove your hand into your panties and make yourself cum. But Peter had other plans.
He takes off his own shirt, climbing into the bed next to you and pulling you too him. Your body screams in welcome at the contact from a man as handsome as him. But he was a friend; and more importantly your teammate. Sleeping with him was off limits, no matter how wet your pussy was. Or how good he felt pressed against you.
“Peter I could be contagious! What are you doing?” You try your best to scare him off, brain only working at partial capacity at this point. It was taking actual effort to keep yourself from rubbing against him.
“I’m taking care of you” he coos, hand coming up to rest on your side.
“I’m not that kind of sick, you can go I promise” you respond with words, but your body leans into his touch.
“What kind of sick are you then Y/N” he asks, hand sliding up until it sits right under your curve of your breast.
You’re sure he doesn’t realize, certain his hands have the intentions of simply making you feel better. But still your thighs grow sticky with wetness from the feel of them.
“Let me help you Y/N” he whispers, voice laced with something dangerous.
His hand goes up even further until his groping your breast and you hum at how nice his big hand feels.
“Fuck, you’re perfect” he groans, flicking your nipple through your shirt and your hips jerk at the how good it feels. Peter smirks, doing it again and you can’t help squeak.
“Peter, stop. We can’t!” You feel yourself have a moment of clarity, this was too much.
“What’s wrong? It’s supposed to feel good if someone plays with your nipples” he answers, leaning in to kiss your neck and both hands now tweaking your nipples.
Your hands go to his shoulders to push him off, but before you can his actions have you succumbing to power of the aphrodisiac again.
“Peter please…” you find yourself begging and Peter bites down on your neck before sucking a bruise into it.
“Please what, baby?” He asks, kissing down the column of your throat and making quick work of your shirt so he can bury his face in your chest.
“More” is all you can choke out as his mouth wraps around your nipple.
Your panties are next to go, his hands eager to get rid of them. He’d dreamed of this.
He runs a finger down your folds, letting his digit get coated by your wetness. He switches nipples as he pushes his first finger into you.
“Oh fuckkk” you drawl, hips bucking at the welcomed intrusion. He chuckles adding another finger, and he grunts at how tight you are.
“So fucking right; even just around my fingers” he breathes finally coming up from your tits to kiss your mouth. His lips were soft but you could feel the strength behind them. He lead and you followed.
“…be even tighter around your cock” you pull away from the kiss breathlessly and Peter takes out his fingers to gently smack your pussy.
“I can only imagine” he quips and you reach your hands up tangle in his thick hair,
“Don’t imagine it, fuck me” you tilt your face up to kiss him again. It’s all tongue and teeth as Peter kicks down his pants and boxers.
“Anything you want baby”
And then he’s pushing his hard cock into you. Your back arches, and Peters arms reach under you to pull you as close to him as possible.
He thrusts sharply, dick reaching the deepest parts of you. Your nipples rub against his bare chest, the sound of skin slapping skin echos through the room.
You can barely catch your breath at how good everything feels, and your toes curl as you feel your orgasm approaching.
“Cum for me Y/N” he hums, pressing his lips yours and you struggle to kiss him back as your high washes over you.
Your hips jerk in pleasure, walls contracting around him and bringing him to his own peak. He fills you up, grunting you name as he spills inside of you.
Peter breathes heavily, burying his face in your neck as you both come down.
So much for boundaries.
___________________________
this is the most different thing I’ve ever written, let me know if y’all want more like this 🧡 just tryna to ease my way into some darker stuff!
love uuu
gif by @fyeahspiderman !!!
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itsallyscorner · 3 months ago
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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☆
🏷 Tags:
*if there’s a line through your url, Tumblr won’t let me tag you:( *
Tom Holland Tags ↴
↪︎ @lovableparker @aprettyfleur @sunwardsss @dummiesshort @thotforcriminalminds @cuddlykoala101 @itstaskeen @whoslili @white-wolf1940 @tomsirishgirlx @roseke @kaylans-imagines @spideyspeaches @slut-for-steve-rogers
General Tags (besties) ↴
↪︎ @moonlight-onyx @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @thegirlwiththediary @agustdowney @bi-lmg @rqmanoff @sesamepancakes @stardustofreading @dracoswhore007 @alyssathesoftie @amourtentiaa @ifyouknewhowmiserylovedme @kaitieskidmore1 @6r4cie
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vendettaparker · 4 months ago
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You’re Pregnant?! [T.H]
Summary: A photo of you on Twitter leads Tom to believe that you’re pregnant.
Word Count: 871
Warnings: Swearing, one small mention of safe sex, talks of pregnancy, dumb!tom
a/n: hi guys! here’s a short blurb inspired by a dream i had. i’m going to finish writing ‘Where We Rot’, then move onto a requested oneshot for Tom that has been in my inbox for literal months (sorry!). Then i’ll probably open my requests for a bit, so look out for that! as always, comments and reblog are immensely appreciated, love you, enjoy!
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After one of the most grueling days of filming, Tom was completely and utterly exhausted. His back was sore from when he missed one of his flips and fell flat on it, his head hurt from when his co-star hit him during their fight scene, and his feet were aching from the constant running, jumping, and standing around he’d been doing. 
He couldn’t wait to go back to his trailer, take a nice steamy shower, order Chinese food, watch The Great British Bake-off, and facetime his beautiful girlfriend. 
After a much well-needed shower, Tom had Harry order them some Chinese food while he gave you a call. 
You were in Miami, filming the second season of a TV series you were on. Tom was in Georgia, so the time difference wasn’t a big deal. Most likely, he’d catch you just as you were leaving set to go back to your rented condo. 
However, once he opened his phone he saw that his Twitter feed was flooding with pictures of you on the beach, holding a small baby bump. 
“What the fuck?” He rubbed his eyes, wondering if maybe the fatigue was causing him to see things. 
His heartbeat quickened as he scrolled through more pictures, even the hashtag #mommy(Y/N) began trending on Twitter. The pictures ranged from you on the beach in a sundress holding your bump, to you chatting with your costars as they gently caressed your protruding belly. 
How long has it been since I’ve seen her?, Tom wondered. The bump looked at least 16 weeks, but he definitely saw you just a few weeks ago. Maybe the bump wasn’t noticeable then?
But why wouldn’t you tell him you were pregnant? You were in a secure relationship after all? At least he thought you were. Maybe it wasn’t his? Maybe you were planning on dumping him and going to be with the real baby daddy instead. 
Fatigue mixed with panic caused Tom’s mind to spiral. His palms grew sweaty as he tried to find your contact. Eventually, he just yelled, “FaceTime (Y/N)!” into the phone and hoped Siri would listen to his command for once. 
The phone began to ring and after the third chime, your bright eyes appeared on the other line. 
“Hi, baby!” You smiled, before taking in his disheveled look, “you okay?”
“You’re pregnant?!” Tom gasped, “why wouldn’t you tell me?”
You just stared in shock at the camera, furrowing your eyebrows at Tom’s questioning. 
“Is it even mine?” He asked, “Sorry, that was a stupid fucking question, of course it’s mine. You’d never do that to me, I trust you. I didn’t mean to accuse you of anything. Like I’m happy really, I’m just so fucking shocked. Like, why wouldn’t you just tell me? I mean, I had to find out on Twitter for fucks sake.” Tom rambled on, running his fingers through his hair. 
Curiously, you paused your side of the call and went to Twitter for yourself to see what he was on about. Once you opened the app, your timeline became flooded with photos of you on the beach with a baby bump. You chuckled slightly, now realizing where Tom’s confusion was coming from.
“I don’t know,” Tom sighed, “like I know we can support a kid, I just—It seems so sudden. And we’re always so safe. But I’m happy, I really am, like I’m ready y’know? Well, ready as I can be. But this is good for us, it’ll bring us closer, and I think you look really sexy with a baby bump.” Tom continued his rambling, not letting you get a word in. 
“Tom,” You tried, but he shushed you.
“No, no,” Tom waved his hand, “I overreacted, I’m sorry. I mean you’re carrying my baby, I should be more sympathetic. Like you might’ve wanted to surprise me or something, and here I’ve gone and ruined the surprise. God, I’m sorry darling, I’m really so thrilled. I think we’ll make amazing parents. I’ve always wanted two or three—”
“Tom!” You cut him off, “What TV show am I filming right now?”
“Heart of Stone?” Tom answered quickly, “why?”
“Mhm,” You nodded, “and what character do I play?”
“Jane?” Tom replied, skeptically.
“Correct again,” You smiled, “And what did Jane find out in the season one finale?”
“That she was… oh.” Tom’s eyes sparked with realization. “Right, I forgot about that.” He said sheepishly as he rubbed the back of his neck, “My bad.” 
You giggled at the misunderstanding, “It’s alright,” You chuckled.
“So you’re not pregnant?” 
“No,” You shook your head, “you really think I’d let you find out on Twitter of all places?”
“I don’t know,” Tom shrugged with a laugh, “I just assumed that you forgot to tell me? Or maybe you wanted it to be a surprise?”
“Aw, Tommy,” You cooed, “I really had you going there for a minute, huh?”
“Yeah,” Tom sighed, rubbing his tired eyes, “I was actually coming around to the idea.” 
“One day,” You promised. “We’ll have a little army of baby Hollands. And then you can stare at my sexy baby bump all you want.”
Tom rolled his eyes with a smile, “Sounds like a plan, love.”
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✧tags & moots✧ @ptersmj @princessofguineapigs @peterbenjiparker @cherrytholland @itsapeterthing @justapurrcat @thirstiestpotato @kelieah @iovebug  @waitimcomingtoo  @rosyparkers  @parkers-gal @allegra-writes @starktonyx  @celestialholland  @hollandcrush  @londonspidey @blissfulparker @spidernerdsblog @spidey-sophie @spideyspeaches @peterparkers-bad-youtube-apology @andilovetowrite @sinisterspidey @asonofpeter @westcoastcigar @arlo-sanders @love-peterparker @boiolay @letssee2468  @white-wolf1940 @fandom-life-12 @hollandsdream @annathesillyfriend @lovelybarnes @miseryholland @wierdteenagenerd
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blindingdutchy · a month ago
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golf groupie | t.holland
Tumblr media
{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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loveaffaire · 2 months ago
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happy 1k lovie!!!
maybe a slightly angsty blurb abt pete forgetting y/n’s bday? like he just got too caught up with spider-man biz
love you ❤️
What’s The Date Today?
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Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader
Warnings: angst & fluff
Word count: I tried to wrap it up but it still ended up at 800 words:/
A/N: honestly I would simply forgive Peter for forgetting my bday, I’m so whipped and also because I just KNOW that he would feel so guilty when that’ll happen :( anyway enjoy <3
🤍JOIN MY SLEEPOVER🤍
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You waited for him to wish you when you laid in bed together last night and the clock struck at 12 and when he woke up the next day and strolled in the kitchen but the only thing he did was remind you about calling your mother today because you somehow always forget to call her every Friday.
After a long day of online college classes, both for him and you, Peter had left for his Spider-Man duties at around 5:30. Thankfully, New York was running low on crime and that’s why, he only went out to take a check and be back home in an hour or so.
So you sat on the bed and waited for him as you heard a light knock on the bedroom window, the red and black of his suit visible as he peaked in, he swiftly opened the window and let himself inside. He flashed you a tired but toothy smile and your heart melted for a second.
“How many times have I told you to lock this window when I’m not home” he said, resting his back against the glass of the window.
“We live on the 11th floor” you said, walking up to where he was resting, you bent down to plant a quick kiss on his mouth and he only pulled you closer.
“Criminals don’t have a fear of heights” he sighed and rested his head on your shoulder, “I’m so tired”
“Hm”
“Is something wrong?” He looked up at you, his thumb gently brushed your bottom lip.
“Uh no, I’m okay” you whispered.
He doesn’t remember, he forgot my birthday, does he even love me anymore? Okay that’s being a little dramatic, Y/N, just stop it—
“Can we have pasta for dinner tonight? Really want to have that uh Alfredo Pasta you made last week”
He got out of his spandex, ruffled his hair and walked into the bathroom as you heard your heart shatter in your chest.
You swallowed the lump in your throat as you walked to the kitchen, planning to put extra salt in his pasta but quickly cancelled the thought, you weren’t that cruel.
Peter came into the kitchen after a while, hair wet from his shower, “did you call your mom today?”
That question really broke you open, he can remember reminding you to call your mother but he can’t remember your birthday?
“Yes, yes I did Peter” you snapped, aggressively stirring the white sauce in the pan.
“Woah okay I just asked about your mother, sorry” he raised his eyebrows in a questioning manner but you just ignored him.
“What’s wrong with you?” He asked, walking over to you but you shifted away.
“What’s wrong with me?” You squinted your eyes at him, now welled up with tears.
At this, Peter’s eyes widened for a second, his hands raised up to grab your arm but you had other plans on your mind.
“Please Peter—“
“Y/N, is something wrong? Baby—”
“What’s the date today?” You snapped once again, cheeks heating up in anger.
“It’s uh I don’t know, I don’t remember dates anymore, what is it—”
“So now you can’t even remember your girlfriend’s birthday!?” You asked, teeth biting your lower lip, keeping you from bursting out crying on the kitchen floor.
Peter halted in his step, mouth opening and closing like a fish, it took a minute for him to process what you’ve just said to him.
“No no, oh my god, Y/N, i'm so sorry I forgot—”
“It’s okay, Peter” you looked away from him, “it’s like 8pm, it’s not even my day anymore”
“Listen, I’m sorry, I’m really sorry, I’ve been so busy but that’s no excuse for forgetting your birthday, please let me make it up to you” he pleaded, hands grabbing on your waist to get you to look at him.
“No—”
“Look here, I’m sorry, baby” he pulled you away from the stove, “please, just look at me, I’m—”
His voice choked up which made you look up at him, his eyes red with tears as he held back from breaking down. Peter was a good boyfriend, he was definitely the best thing that has ever happened to you so forgetting your birthday hit him close and it hurt you to see him feeling so guilty.
“Peter” you whispered, hands grabbing his face as you gently kissed him, all the anger vanishing.
His cheeks were wet with tears by the time you pulled away, brows frowning as he looked in your eyes.
“I’m gonna make you a cake” he whispered, his eyes scanning your face as he sniffed.
You couldn’t help but giggle at his words, “Pete, it’s okay, it’s 8pm and you don’t know how to bake. We can just have this pasta and—”
“No, let me make it up to you” he hushed you, wiping his eyes with his sleeve, “I’ll search a recipe and I’ll make you a cake”
He picked up an apron to tie around his waist but you spoke up, “we don’t have any cocoa powder”
“Damn” he exhaled, “okay I’ll run to the store and I’ll grab some things”
“Peter—”
“I’ll make you the best goddamn cake you’ve ever had, baby”
You giggled, looking at him in awe, he rushed to the door, swinging it open and walking out, probably to make you the best goddamn cake you’ve ever had.
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This mf probably burned that cake.
Hope you liked this <33
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hollandsmushroom · 2 months ago
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OMG YAY ok so what about tom doing push ups and you are getting super horny watching him, so you ask him to stop just for you to get under him and... you know, suck his dick while he's doing push ups jgbkgbkgbkh if this is too filthy for you let me know
(Mouth)Fucking Pushups
HNNNG!!!!
Word count: 1705
Warnings: 18+ NSFW MINORS GO AWAY! blow jobs, sweat and mouth fucking.
Request/Chat with Me
“Tom!” you called out through the seemingly empty house, dropping your keys in the dish on the entryway table, the clatter sounding through the walls as you followed the faint hints of music to the basement, pushing the door open, the sounds getting louder, loud enough that you knew Tom couldn’t hear you but you still thought you would call out again.
“Tom?” you tried again but your voice was drowned out by the beat that was vibrating through the ground beneath your feet as you stepped down the carpeted steps. When you reached the bottom of the stairs you stood on the solid hardwood floor, the beat of the music even more intense against your soles. Though you normally would have been fascinated by how the feeling rose through your body, any curiosity had been replaced with a keen interest in the man in front of you. He was laid out on a yoga mat, the flesh of his belly rolling slightly as he curled his upper body up off the floor, his biceps taught against the short sleeves of his shirt, his hands gripping the opposite shoulders. His brown eyes were squeezed shut in exertion and you knew that you should make yourself known but he looked too dialectable to interrupt, you just wanted to sit and admire as a drop of sweat trickled between his pecs. You sat on the seat of the rowing machine, pressing your feet into the floor so the seat wouldn’t roll down the metal slide and watch. His knees were spread and you could see the way that his shorts had hitched up his hips, accentuating his cock through his basketball shorts, tightening on either side of his balls and it made you gulp. You felt yourself beginning to yearn for him, your mouth was salivating as you watched him, so fixated on the space between his legs and the continuing loosening and tightening of his shorts that you didn’t notice Tom sitting up, breaking open his eyes to find you sitting there watching him.
“JESUS FUCK!” He cried out when he saw you, still having thought that he was alone while he was working out. His words shocked you out of your cock lusted haze and made you jump, nearly falling off of the erg but his hand wrapped itself around yours and pulled you back to a stable position, also using you as a way to hoist himself off the floor so he stood above you, his sweaty brown curls falling in front of his quizzical orbs as he hooked a finger under your chin and brought your eyes to his, tearing your gaze from his glistening abs that were now in front of your face and you just wanted to smear your lips across them.
“Sorry for scaring you, Tommy” you utter, as his thumb brushes your cheek, your words eliciting a small chuck from Tom.
“It’s alright, love, how long were you sitting there?” he queried, wondering just how long you had been silently staring at him, well by the looks of it, admiring him, and he couldn’t help the blush that rose from his chest at the thought of you just tracing every curve of his body with your eyes without him knowing.
“Don’t actually know, but don’t let me interrupt you look like you still have things to do” he furrows his brow at your words, fully prepared to stop working out and spend time with you but you seemed pretty set on letting him continue so he didn’t argue, ducking down and stealing a kiss from your lips before returning to his mat.
His knees met the foam first then catching himself on his hands, pushing his legs back into a push-up position and dipping down. This position gave you a stunning view of his ass, how it squeezed when he bowed down to the floor, the way his grunts made it over the loud music was making your thirst for the man in front of you simply multiply. You couldn’t stop yourself, you had literally just told him to go back to work and there you were opening your mouth to ask him to stop.
“Tommy?” you called out, making him stop his actions and turn to look at you from over his shoulder, his brows scrunched with laughter.
“I thought you told me not to let you interrupt” he chuckled as he held himself in a side plank, his eyes crinkled at the corners with a smile as he watched you stand. “Whatcha doin’ love?” he asked as you laid down so your shoulder was flush with his hand.
“Giving you motivation” you insisted, pulling him pack down into a push up position by tugging on his shoulder, forcing him to fall over you.
“Was doing just fine without it” he laughed as you puckered your lips, inviting him to bow his elbows back and press down to your lips but as soon as he nearly reached them you dodged to the side, pressing a kiss under his ear, licking over the juncture very softly making him gasp. God his noises were gonna be the death of you.
“W-what was that?” he asks when he pushes back above you, elbows locking as he looks at you intently.
“A kiss” you explain, looking at him like he was dumb to cover your devilish desires, and your explanation seemed to be enough to satisfy Tom as he began to lower himself again, and this time you pressed a kiss against his collar bone, sucking lightly until he pulled away.
“Y/n” he groaned, looking down at where your head was but not it was just your hair, having scooted yourself down so you could kiss your way down his chest. His skin was salty against your lips but you didn’t mind, you cared less about his sweat and more about the fact that you could now feel Tom’s hardening cock pressing into you when he lowered down. It was pressing into your belly now as you peppered kisses down from his belly button, tracing your tongue along the waistband of his shorts.
“Y/n, what are you doing?” Tom panted but you ignored him, pulling his shorts down until they were resting part way down his thighs, beneath his ball sack, his cock springing free and hitting you in the chin. You tilted your head down so your chin rested on your chest, letting his cock between your lips and rest on your tongue. You could sense Tom’s apprehension, almost able to hear the worried whimper of your name that was building in his throat but you decided to skip that part, wrapping your arms around his waist and digging your hands into his asscheeks and pulling him down, forcing him to do a push up.
His cock brushed the back of your throat but you managed to contain the gag that it triggered, letting him pull from between his lips as he pushed back up only to have you pull him back down again, removing one hand from his ass cheek and wrapping it in a searing grip around his hardon, positioning it so he would slip eagerly in between your salivating lips.
“Fuck” you heard Tom murmur in pleasure, his ab muscles were twitchin in your view as you opened yoru jaw just a little bit more, taking him in further when his body rises and falls again, he was enraptured by your mouth, focused on the wet friction of his dick against your tongue that he forgot what his arms were doing until he felt like he couldn’t hold himself up anymore.
He sat back on his knees, his cock still nestled in your mouth as he gripped onto your scalp, pulling your head forward as he began to fuck into your mouth, bringing himself closer and closer to the edge with every jerk of his hips, his tip still brushing against the back of your throat with every stroke and it was making you gag, your throat clenching around his length, the constriction a sudden shock that was enough to send him over the edge, his cum shooting down your throat and spreading across the insides of your cheeks as you sucked harder and his cock, draining him for every ounce of cum that you could possibly manage until he couldn’t hold himself up anymore. He was moaning and whining and convulsing on top of you, unable to support himself he feel forward, catching himself on his palms as he pulled out of your mouth, a choked gargle leaving your lips as cum began to drip down your now empty throat, pushing yourself up from between his legs and letting his body fully collapse onto the mat.
“Fuck” He winced, having landed on his overly sensitive cock, crushing the spongy flesh slightly making him roll over onto his back.
You looked over your shoulder to admire your work, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand as you laid down next to him, resting your head on his chest as you looked up into his hooded and tired eyes. Your fingers traced down his accentuated abs muscles until they reached his cock, tracing very gently over the wet and tired skin earning a couple more twitches from him as you maintained eye contact.
“If I knew that was gonna happen when you watched me work out I would have made you come to every session with me” he laughs, fingers brushing your forehead as you tried to hide your face in his chest.
“Hey, none of that” he ordered, pulling you up so you were now above him, your knees on either side of his hips and lips only centimeters apart, breath hot as your eye contact made your belly erupt into little butterflies.
“I love you” he murmurs, closing the space between the both of you slowly.
“Love you too” you assure, setting your hips down onto his and feeling his cock again. “Love this cock too” you giggle, grinding down slightly, feeling it harden.
“God, you’re gonna kill me” Tom groaned, making you cease your actions and throw your head back in laughter.
Join my sleepover
♡Taglist♡
@capital-koreasofia @marvelhasmyheart235 @iluvdeja @quaksonhehe @lovehollandy12 @thollandneedy @prancerrparkerr @parkerpeter24 @hollandsour @spydeysense @harryhollandsgirlfriend
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thesunlightofourpast · 2 days ago
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Peter or tom taking care of sick overworked stressed and just generally burned out reader please
sick days and an idiot || (t.h)
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Word count: 704
pairing: actor!tom holland x publicist!readr
N/A:  okay it's short, but it's the concept of a blurb, am i right? I hope you will like it. I allowed myself to choose the reader's work and include a funny little situation. - lot of love! xx
taglist: @angeliquekalampoka @harryhollandsgirlfriend @cedricdiggorysimpp​ @hogwartsmarvelmommy​ - if you want to be notified of all my future writings you can add yourself in my taglist : here
❀ ❀ ❀
Fall was your favorite season, but it was also the time when you fell ill the fastest. The reason was simple: you were still stubbornly wearing summer clothes when the weather got cooler. And it only took a few days from the start of October for you to catch a cold. You had a sore throat, you had chills and sweats. No doubt you had a little fever, but the reckless one you were hadn't wanted to check. To top it off, the work was not easy. You had had several meetings during the day for several different clients. You have also been negotiating partnership contracts with several brands. But at the end of the afternoon, you felt exhausted, sore, livid. Your boyfriend came home from a late round of golf and you shivered as the wind blew through the front door.
"Darling, I'm home"
You didn't answer, unsure of the sound of your too hoarse voice. Your fragile health has betrayed you since you have coughed a few times. Tom just had to follow your coughing fit. You were wrapped in a fluffy plaid, cozy socks, your nose was red and your eyes were shining.
"Oh, my poor baby" he pained you.
Your boyfriend approached you to kiss your temple, not without protesting that you were sick. He couldn't get sick too, he had a press tour coming up soon.
"Stay away from me, you can’t be sick"
Tom shook his head before heading to the kitchen. He took out your favorite mug and his from the cupboard, setting them on the counter while he filled the electric kettle and took out the tea. You watched him do it with a feeling of fullness. This man was far too perfect. The brunette then leaned into the bottom cabinet to grab the heating pad you usually use during your painful period. He placed it in the microwave with a cup of water, to heat the object safely.
"How was your day, love?" Tom asked.
"Horrible. One of the brands that sponsors my client has a photoshoot scheduled without notifying us first."
"It sucks ..."
"And you'll never guess but ... I also got a call for a social media affair. One of my clients ... I wouldn't say who" you insisted your gaze on Tom, eyes piercing. "…posted on his Instagram story" you paused, giving him time to realize your words. “a picture of him in the designer room of his next BIG movie, where you can clearly see in the background ... 3 different iconic costumes of his character. "
Tom's eyes widened before swallowing hard and judging by tapping his phone. He got confused in excuse.
"We're having a press conference tomorrow. I don't have the strength to write your speech, but I'll do my best to get you out of your mess."
Tom gave you puppy eyes while still apologizing for it. He hastened to take the heating patch out of the microwave. He placed it against your stomach, kissing you on the cheek, then rushed to the counter to steep the tea in your cups and bring them to the coffee table. He settled into the couch, making you wince at having to move but you couldn't blame him since for the next few seconds you were snuggled against him in a heartwarming embrace. He stroked your head and kissed the top of your head.
"You're lucky that I love you, idiot"
"I love you too, darling."
You closed your eyes to appreciate the affection Tom was giving you. You were pretty sure he would be sick tomorrow, you were pretty sure you were going to have to spend the night writing an editorial line to save your silly boyfriend's ass. But for now, you were in the soft warmth of his arms and he was enough for you.
"How about ordering your favorite food and watching a fall movie before you have to go back to work?"
"Sounds good to me."
Tom pecked at your lips and you melted under his kisses. No, dating Tom Holland was no easy task but you were way too much in love with this man ... and he was an absolutely perfect boyfriend.
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lovewasted · a month ago
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always, i’ll care | tom holland
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request— ‘dad!tom being really freaked out that you are pregnant and he goes to harrison and he's like so i’m gonna be a dad. how did that happen. and haz is like: well when two people love each other... just to tease tom, but after he goes home and he is just super clingy cause he's gonna have a baby with the love of his life’
warnings— dadtobe!tom, haz, established relationship, language, fluff, suggestive talk, mentions of food, mate (as it can be found offensive to some, tom doubting himself, though it is something tom and his friends refer to eachother as).
notes— this instantly got my hopes up after what happened to my requests and drafts. thank you to everyone requesting it means more than you know. lmk if i should do headers more often.
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Sweatiest palms he’s likely endured.
Worse than any award show.
More disastrous than any premiere event.
Tom’s pacing is making Harrison’s hair stand up on the back of his neck. Mainly because he’s been compiling the same stance since he arrived with no reason behind it. He’s radiating the anxiousness to Harrison, and it’s enough to make the unknowns blare.
"Mate y'making the room hot. What the hell's happened?" Harrison reiterated, seeing as this was his forth time asking. He's tempted to jump in front of Tom and shake some sense into him. The beige aromatic display of Harrison's apartment, should've been calming really but Tom's bouncing off the walls. Perhaps it's denial or disbelief, either way he's clammy and has tremors.
"Haz..."
"C'mon m' a big boy. I can handle it."
Has tried to make light of the situation, patting his now positioned friend on the back. Even the leather of the couch felt as if it was baking in an oven due to Tom's exasperated breathing and heavy perspirating. His slouched manner conceded Harrison, not much could typically evoke Tom yet— this. This tops it all.
“S-she’s pregnant Haz...”
Harrison was having trouble understanding Tom’s dilemma. Since they were boys he recalled Tom having built an imaginative little family out of stick figures. It had always been bet on that out of Harrison, Tom, and Tuwaine that Tom would be the first to have a child, his response was always ‘gonna’ be a better dad than the both of you.’
“Okay?”
“Just... uh just found out yesterday.”
Harrison couldn’t help the chuckle that erupted in the back of his throat. Dumbfounded as tp what the actual matter at hand was. He was bound to be an actual uncle or God father, whilst Tom was in full panic mode.
“You’ve dreamt about a family mate?”
“S’ cold feet I guess... don’t know how it happened,” Tom’s voice was raspy. Straining from panic— he practically worshiped you. The sense of differentiating between becoming a father and navigating infatuation with you might’ve been a mission he couldn't accomplish.
Self doubt at its finest.
Though he needed to get in check timely, because the two of you can’t function without the other.
“Well, you and y/n love each other right? So when two people love each other, they make—“
“Could really do without the shitty jokes, div.”
A ton of bricks pressured Tom’s chest, biting at the insides of his cheeks. Nails digging into his flesh until crescent moons formed. Harrison itching for his childhood companion to realize his worth.
“What’s there to be worried about, bro? The baby will have a kickass mom and a dad that will be wrapped around their finger. You will quite literally have the perfect family.”
Harrison’s index finger prodded the center of Tom’s chest, his touseled curls sticking to the harshness of his forehead. Warmth sparked in the pits of his stomach— such a compliment is irrevocable to come by. Reassurance has Tom’s heart fluttering and moving past the crisis that had just occurred within his thoughts. Knowing Tom like the back of his hand, was prominent in needing to subside his worries.
Thereafter the realization, desiring to race home and relish in every minuscule part of his wife’s sculpted figure.
Solemnly figuring he’d have fallen to the gift pf a child anyway.
“Thinking Tuwaine will be the favorite uncle.”
“Ah, fuck you Holland.”
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“Lovie!”
Tom’s thick voice hallowed. Depths of it absorbing into the walls of the house. Arriving quicker than you anticipated considering he was going to Harrison. You’d assumed beers and taking shos would be in the mix. The news of pregnancy irked Tom’s established humbleness, hiding it amazingly well.
So well, you hadn’t acknowledged his misgiving in the wake of your elation. He yearned to feel the pleasure you felt, though it was there— the pleasure was drowned out by skepticism.
Coming to the conclusion, he would rather keep the miscommunication between him and Harrison. Hoping for nothing but wonderous energy for every trimester. Possibly, that’s the cause of his longing to cling to you and the child.
Skin crawling to even be sat beside his significant other.
He simply wanted to share oxygen, and get lost inside of your lungs.
“In here!”
You echoed back from the living room, phone screen stuck on images of baby clothes with a spoon full of peanut butter coating the inside of your mouth. One of the plenty cravings, seemed to be normal compared to the usual outrageous ones. That and the late period, triggered the taking of a pregnancy test.
His sock-clad feet pad toward the soft white ribbed sofa. Muscular arms enveloping your neck to meet at your color bone, easily relaxing into the familiar scent. Fresh vanilla with a hint of lavender, your lips pucker to press a tender peck to his wrist bone. Thanking him for his all-around existence and Tom receives instant relief from the small gesture.
“Hi darling, missed you.”
“Hi baby.”
“Don’t worry. Only gave Haz the ‘uncle talk’.”
“Hm, how’d it go?”
“Like shit, cause’ you weren’t there.”
His mumbles to the hair on your head were soothing—soothing enough for your eyes to want to blink shut. Fingertips tracing miscellaneous shapes on your collar bone. Something scared to have found someone dedicated to being a husband and father. Your cheeks bloom with rosiness, delighted with his movements.
Ring finger scooping beneath your chin to slightly maneuver your lips toward his position of hovering over the couch. A grin accompanied his features, the same grin that was able to make softcore possible, and the same grin that makes wholesomeness wander throughout your being. Lowering himself, he crashes his lips onto yours. Repositioning his head to gain every mold imaginable to your pair, he ailed the chase. Tingles to bury his tongue alongside yours, swirling and pressing the tips of the muscle together. Solely to end with pressing his forehead to yours, glad that you accepted his clinginess willingly because it wasn’t in his schedule anytime soon.
“Just made out with a jar of peanut butter.”
You swat at his arm, only to emit a fit of laughter from the both of you.
“Your child wanted peanut butter.”
“S’ mad that I put a baby in there.”
Your starstruck at his hand traveling down to your stomach, bump too early to be visible. Yet he’s full of luster anyhow.
“In the back of a limo.”
Only to earn a smirk from Tom at your reply— overly cheeky.
“That dress was bloody insane, had to lovie.”
Passing feverently over the womb, an ear-to-ear smile. partially at the night the couple reminisced on and mainly to the small human that’s growing inside of you. Glowing so hard he swore he wouldn’t be able to stop even if he tried.
“Can’t wait to see your belly big and round, let love. Gonna’ kiss it all over, every second.”
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poguesholland · a month 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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tom-holland-parker · 15 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
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waitimcomingtoo · a month ago
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Call It What You Want
Pairing: Tom Holland x actress!Reader
Synopsis: Tom accidentally sends you mixed signals during an interview
Masterlist
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“All right. I should get going.” Tom sighed when he saw the clock. “Early morning tomorrow.”
“Oh, really?” You said sarcastically. “I didn’t know.”
“Wow. Some people get number one on the call sheet and don’t know how to act.” Tom teased as he got off the bed.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” You chuckled as you watched him get up.
“Until tomorrow.” He said as he put a hand on your shoulder. He gently pulled you closer and kissed your forehead before getting up. He only got a few steps before he turned around with a strange look on his face.
“Sorry.” He laughed awkwardly. “I don’t know why I just did that.”
“It’s okay.” You shrugged, trying to fight back a smile.
“I just don’t normally…” He trailed off and gestured to his lips, then to your forehead.
“It’s okay.” You repeated. “I don’t know, I liked it.”
“You did?” He asked, eyes lighting up a little.
“Yeah.” You smiled shyly. “It was sweet.”
Tom smiled as well, pleased with the reaction that he got out of you. He put his hand on the back of your head and leaned down to kiss your forehead once again.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, darling.” He said. “Sleep tight.”
“Sleep tighter.” You called after him.
“Nothings tighter than you.” He said, then immediately grimaced.
“I wish I didn’t say that.” He cringed. “Goodnight.”
“Night.”
The next day was the final day of shooting for your movie together. After many months on set, you finally wrapped. The cast and crew exchanged their hugs of goodbye, but not you and Tom. You’re eye contact with Tom as you hugged the head of the makeup department and gave him a wink, letting him know that his goodbye was coming later.
After you said your last goodbyes, you changed out of your costume and went back to your trailer. You had only been in your trailer for a few minutes before you heard a knock on the door. You opened your door and found Tom with his hands behind his back.
“Oh, hi.” You greeted with a smile. “I wasn’t expecting you so soon.”
“I couldn’t wait to see you.” He said as he walked through the door. “And I got you something.”
“You got me something?” You asked as you shut the door.
“Yes, I did.” Tom smiled shyly and pulled a small black box out from behind his back. You looked at it in surprise before looking up at him.
“It’s um, it’s a wrap gift.” He said sheepishly. “For you.”
“Aw, Tommy.” You laughed softly. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”
“I know.” He shrugged. “But you made this experience really special for me. I wanted to get you something to thank you for everything. Your friendship, your talent, all of it. I’m really grateful that I got to know you.”
“Tom.” You whispered, reaching a hand up to brush his cheek with your thumb. He put his hand over yours and held the box forward with his other hand.
“Here. Open it.”
You looked at him fondly before taking the box from him. You opened it it slowly to find a small spider pendant hanging from a dainty silver chain. It had tiny crystals that covered it’s abdomen and back crystals for eyes. You stared at the necklace in awe before looking up at Tom for answers.
“It’s a spider. Because of…well you know.” He laughed timidly. “But there’s more. Turn it over.”
You carefully turned the pendant over and found a small “T” engraved into the back of the spider. You let out a small laugh and rubbed your thumb over his initial.
“T as in Troy?” You asked as you looked up at him.
“Who’s Troy?” He furrowed his eyebrows.
“Sorry.” You shook your head. “Bad joke.”
“I…I wanted you to have my initial to wear.” He continued to explain. “But not in a dog collar, possessive kind of way.”
“What kind of way, then?” You asked him.
“Um,” he blushed a deep red, “in an anywhere you go, take me with you kinda way.”
You stared at the necklace as you absorbed his words into your head. Getting you the necklace was something so simple, yet so thoughtful all at once. The gesture overwhelmed you to know that someone cared about you that much, and that brought tears to your eyes. You looked up from the necklace and stared at Tom, his eyes soft with hope that you liked his gift. Without thinking, you put your free hand on his face and pulled him into a kiss. You felt his eyes widen in surprise before fluttering shut. He leaned into you and hesitantly cupped your face, like he was scared to press to hard and crack you. You suddenly realized what you were doing and pulled away, blinking a few times to regain your composure.
“I’m sorry.” You chuckled awkwardly. “I don’t know why I just did that.”
“It’s, um, it’s okay.” Tom cleared his throat and sheepishly looked away. “I…I don’t mind.”
“I really don’t know why I did that.” You said again. “I just didn’t know how else to show you how much I love you.”
You and Tom were equally shocked by what you had said, and looked at each other in surprise. Tom could tell you felt embarrassed from over sharing, so he cleared his throat again.
“It’s all right, really. I’m just glad you like the necklace.” He smiled a little. “And um, you can kiss me anytime you like.”
You narrowed your eyes at him to see if he was serious, and he seemed to be sincere. You had entered a new territory with Tom by opening this dialogue, and you didn’t want to stop.
“I was just thinking before.” You began. “Now that we wrapped, we don’t have an excuse to kiss each other anymore.”
“I can think of a pretty good excuse.” Tom shrugged as he turned you around. “One that covers all our bases.”
“What’s that?” You asked over your shoulder while he fastened the necklace around your neck.
“If you were my girlfriend, we wouldn’t need any excuses.” He whispered in your ear before kissing your shoulder.
“Tom.” You sighed and turned around with a frown.
“What’s wrong?” His face fell.
“You’re getting on a plane in tomorrow to film in Berlin for four weeks.” You frowned and rested your hands on his chest. “As much as I want to be with you, I don’t want to start this until we’re ready.”
“I am ready.” He insisted. “I’ve been ready for you all my life.”
“But you’re leaving.” You said softly. “And as soon as you come back, I leave to film in Toronto.”
“I guess time isn’t on our side.” He smiled sadly at you.
“No, it’s not.”
Tom nodded and hung his head in shame. You knew the conversation had hurt him, and it pained you to see him so upset. You put your hands on his face and tilted it up so you could look at him.
“If we’re going to do this, I want us to do it right.” You told him. “I don’t want to jeopardize our relationship by starting off with long distance. This is too important to me to risk messing it up.”
“It’s important to me too.” He said softly.
“So we’ll wait.” You decided. “As soon as our schedules line up, I’m yours.”
“All right.” Tom sighed in relief. “You’re right. We should hold off until we can do this right. I just can’t wait for the day I can finally call you mine. I’m gonna miss you so much until I see you again.”
“Hey, we still have tonight, don’t we?” You raised your eyebrows.
“We do.” Tom followed where you were going. “We do have tonight.”
A few months later, you and Tom met up once again for the press tour of your movie. When you got the text that he had arrived at the airport, your heart skipped a beat. The minutes went by impossibly slow as your private plane touched down now that you knew he was waiting for you once you landed. As soon as you had the go ahead from the pilot, you grabbed your bags and raced off the plane. Tom was standing on the landing with a huge sigh that read “welcome home”. You teared up a little when you saw it before descending the planes steps.
“Tom!” You screamed as you ran off the plane. You didn’t stop running until you reached him and immediately threw your arms around him. You wrapped your legs around his torso and hugged him as tightly as you could. His heartbeat was palpable through his shirt as he squeezed you just as tight.
“I missed you so much. I really want to kiss you right now.” He mumbled in your ear.
“So do it.” You laughed as you pulled away. Toms eyes lit up with excitement before he pulled you into a kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him as close as possible while he did the same. When you pulled apart, you stood in comfortable silence for a minute as you rested your foreheads together.
“You look as beautiful as ever. And you’re wearing my necklace.” He grinned when he saw the spider around your neck.
“I haven’t taken it off since the day you gave it to me. So you’re with me always.” You said as you touched the pendant. “Just like you wanted.”
Tom sighed happily from hearing this before leaning down to kiss you again. He could barely kiss you from how hard he was smiling. You laughed against each other’s lips, still getting used to the foreign feeling.
“When can we talk?” He asked eagerly. “About us?”
“We’ll talk tonight.” You told him. “We have a long day of interviews to get through first.”
“Tonight, then.” He nodded happily. He went to walk away, but spun around and held up a finger.
“One more. Please.” He begged. “I’ve been so deprived.”
You shook your head at his antics and pulled him by the hand into another kiss. He reached down to pick you up so you could wrap your legs around his waist again.
“Oh my God.” He groaned against your lips. “Why didn’t we do this sooner?”
“Because we’re stupid.” You shrugged. “And technically, we haven’t done this yet. We’re waiting to talk tonight, remember? Since you can’t keep a secret, we’re not officially together until we talk tonight.”
“Okay, fine.” He rolled his eyes. “But what do we do if the journalists ask about our relationship?”
“We lie.” You decided. “I mean, technically it’s not a lie. Technically, we’re not together yet.”
“I know, I know.” He playfully rolled his eyes. “Not until tonight. That’s fine. I can lie for a few hours.”
“That’s the spirit.” You chuckled. “We’ll just lie.”
So you did. All day, every time you were asked about the nature of your relationship, you lied. Since Tom didn’t trust himself, he let you do all the talking. In interview after interview, he sat there as you denied your relationship claimed to just be friends. By the sixth time he heard you say it, he wasn’t okay with it anymore. By the tenth, it was seriously weighing him down. It really hurt his feelings to hear you call him your friend after everything that had happened between you. Each time you said you were nothing more than friends, hes shot daggers at your necklace. Even with his initial hanging from your neck, you were still reducing him to nothing but a friend.
And he was sick of it.
“Nice to meet you both.” The final journalist of the day greeted you. “I love the necklace, Y/n.”
“Thank you. It’s from Tom.” You smiled at Tom, but his mind was somewhere else. You looked over at him every now and then during the interview, and he was always looking at the ground.
“Your love story is really the backbone of this movie.” The journalist began. “Since you two play such a convincing couple, you’ve left a lot of people wondering what your relationship is like in real life. What do you have to say to all the dating rumors?”
“I find them really annoying, honestly.” Tom said, catching you by surprise. “I hate that people assume we’re together just because we’re costars. We’ve both said so many times that we’re not a couple. It’s getting quite irritating to constantly dispel the rumors.”
Your jaw dropped a little but you quickly composed yourself. There was disgust in his tone, as if he was genuinely offended by the rumors.
“Is that the craziest rumor you’ve heard about yourself?” The journalist asked.
“One of them. It’s just very annoying. I don’t know.” Tom shrugged. “Obviously I’m not dating her. I really wish people would stop saying I am. I’m not. I’m just not.”
You looked to the side as your fingertips found the pendant around your neck. The juxtaposition of hearing him to say that after hearing him beg for one more kiss earlier that day made you feel awful inside. You desperately wanted to get away from Tom and the camera and just be alone.
“And you, Y/n? How do you feel about the rumors?”
“What he said.” You said through a tight smile. Tom heard the sadness of your tone and curiously looked over at you. When he saw you looking away, it occurred to him that he had never gotten a chance to explain to you why he was upset. To you, his answer probably seemed like a senseless attack.
“So neither of you are too thrilled by the rumors, I take it.” The journalist chuckled.
“Well, it’s like Tom said.” You nodded. “I’m sure it must be incredibly irritating to have people think you’re dating me. What an ugly rumor to spread.”
Tom knew he was definitely in trouble now. You were visibly upset with how he answered the question, and he could not move on before he set things right.
“Darling-“
“All though, I’ve heard worse rumors.” You cut him off and quickly changed the subject. “I once read a headline that I was missing an arm. Not sure how that started. Anyways. Could we please move on?”
“Surely.” The journalist nodded. “So, what was your favorite costume that you got to wear?”
Just like that, you moved the conversation along. Tom stayed quiet, trying his best to make eye contact with you. You never looked his way, and Tom began to worry about just how much damage he had done.
As soon as your mic was taken off of you, you left your chair and walked out of the interview. The heavy sound of your footsteps let Tom know you were angry as he ran to catch up with you, but you slammed your dressing room door before he could get to you. He sighed and cursed himself for his stupidity before knocking on your door.
“Hey.” He smiled awkwardly when you opened it. “So, about that last interview.”
“Don’t worry about it.” You said flatly.
“Darling.” He sighed. “Please. I can tell that you’re upset.”
“I’m not upset.” You shrugged. “I’m just a little irritated.”
“I’m sorry.” He winced when you threw his words back at him. “I am. I didn’t mean what I said back there. It came out all wrong.”
“What’s the deal, Tom? When we we’re alone, you’re giving me necklaces with your initial and kissing me. But when we were on camera, you made it seem like dating me was the meanest, nastiest rumor someone could spread about you. You acted like you were offended that someone would think you were my boyfriend. You’re sending incredibly mixed signals. How do you think that makes me feel?”
“I don’t know what came over me.” He shook his head shamefully. “But hearing you say over and over again that we were “just friends” was killing me. It felt like a giant slap in the face after we finally admitted how we felt about each other. I’ve been thinking about you every single day since we last saw each other. And then I had to sit there all day and hear you call me your friend. By the time the last journalist asked me, I just snapped. It had nothing to do with you. It was all me.”
“We agreed to tell them we were just friends.” You reminded him. “We decided that together this morning. And not for nothing, we are just friends. We never said we were more.”
“But we are more.” He said quietly.
“After the way you behaved today, I’m not so sure I want to be.” You admitted. Toms face collapsed as his eyes fell to your necklace.
“But…you said you’d be mine.” He tried to process what you were saying. “Once our schedules…you said-“
“That was before I knew you could make me feel like this.” You cut him off as tears welled in your eyes. You looked down at your necklace suddenly and touched the pendant.
“I just need some time to think.” You decided. “And I think you do too. The way you acted in that interview makes me feel like you don’t want to be with me. When you figure out what you want, we can talk. But right now, I need some space.”
Tom was speechless as you reached behind your head and unclasped your necklace. You took his hand and opened it before dropping the necklace into his palm.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” You said quietly before shutting your dressing room door. Tom slowly closed his fingers around the necklace as a single tear rolled down his cheek. He had messed up, and now he had to find a way to prove to that he wouldn’t hurt you again.
The next day, you and Tom had to be up early for Good Morning America. You didn’t say a word to each other as you sat in your chairs, getting your makeup touched up. Tom knew exactly what he needed to do, he just needed an opportunity to do it.
“We’re live in 4,3,2,1….”
“Welcome to Good Morning America.” The host of the show greeted. “I’m here with Tom Holland and Y/n L/n who have a movie coming out in just a few weeks. Can we ask you some questions?”
“Of course.” You smiled.
“Before we get started, I want to remind you both that this is live. So Tom, if you spoil anything, we can’t help you out.” The host joked.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Tom laughed and tapped the side of his head.
“So, I’m sure you’ve been asking this a million times, but I have to know. Is your relationship off screen anything like the relationship we saw on screen?”
The tense topic was brought up once again, but this time, Tom was ready.
“Our relationship-“
“-is the most rewarding relationship I’ve ever had.” Tom cut you off. You looked at him in surprise, but he looked like he knew exactly what he was doing.
“I mean it. Y/n started off as my best friend and somehow, I got lucky enough to become more. I love her so much. Like seriously, so much.” He emphasized. “It hurts sometimes from how badly I want or hold her hand. I mean, even now, I’ve been keeping my knee against hers just to touch her. It’s like I always have to be touching her or near her or else I can’t think. She’s my best mate in the whole world. I’m really lucky. So, I guess it is like our relationship on screen. Except, I don’t think the way I feel for her could be put into words. You couldn’t find it in a script. It’s the most complex yet simple thing in the world. I just love her. I just do.”
When he was finished speaking, he looked over at you with a proud smile. Your jaw dropped a little, this time with admiration for what he has said.
“That was lovely, Tom.” The host smiled. “And Y/n, how do you feel?”
You reached over to hold Toms hand and gave it a squeeze, letting him know that you had forgiven him for yesterday. You shared an understanding smile before giving your answer.
“What he said.”
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tomhollandsstan · a month ago
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Stay The Night
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Tom Holland x Reader
Warnings: Smut ;)))) fwb!Tom, unprotected sex
You and Tom have been more than friends but less than lovers for a while now. You’re afraid of love but he wants you to stay the night….
You stretch next to Tom, sitting up in his bed. He had almost fallen asleep, but shifts when he feels you move. He wraps his arms around your waist and you sigh.
“Tom you know I have to leave..” you say, removing his hands from their grip on you. You move to grab your clothes but he stops you.
“No you don’t.”
He whispers grimly, and this was the part you dreaded every time you came over here. You and Tom had met long ago, friendship turning into something just a little more when the two of you began sneaking into one another’s beds. You knew Tom had feelings for you, and you wouldn’t deny that you felt for him too. But you wouldn’t let your heart get broken again.
Especially not by him. You’d never be able to escape the memory of him, seeing his face every time one of his movies came out and through all of your mutual friends. It was just too much.
“I want you to stay Y/N. So stay” he admits gently, taking your hand in his. You shake your head, why couldn’t he just let you leave.
“Tom, maybe we should stop seeing each other like this” you whisper, watching his face change at your words.
“Y/N, no. I don’t understand, don’t you want more than just sex? Because I do, I want you. All of you. I’m not ashamed to say that I care for you, and I know you care about me too. So why are you holding back from me; from us?”
You turn towards the man staring at you so intensely you almost melt under his gaze.
“Tom, I just can’t handle another heartbreak right now. And I value you so much as person and a friend. I don’t want to lose that.” You explain, even though something deep inside you was begging for you to just give him a chance.
“Babe, pain and heartbreak are a part of life. You can’t let fear prevent you from enjoying and experiencing new things...like maybe a relationship with me-“ he adds in with small chuckle and you smile.
“But Y/N I promise you, I will do everything in my power to make sure that you don’t get hurt”
“It’s not that simple” you argue and Tom pulls you down onto the bed.
“It could be..” he whispers, climbing on top of you. He uses your nakedness to his advantage, kissing the exposed skin of your chest. Your body shivers at the feeling of his lips on your skin, eyes falling shut when he takes your nipple into his mouth. His tongue rolls over the hard bud and you shiver.
“Tom...” you murmur his name and he looks up at you.
“Just let me take care of you” his voice washes over you, words twisting something deep in your core.
He slides down, breathe fanning over the most sensitive part of you.
His licks up your folds, pausing and sucking when he gets to your clit. You squeal and reach down to grab his hair, still sensitive from your previous activities.
You tug at his hair and he hums, your hips jerking at the vibration it sends through your core. Toms hands caress yours sides before gripping your wriggling hips to keeps you in place.
“Stay still and let me taste you darling” he whispers, breath fanning over your wet pussy and you can’t help but whimper.
“Be a good girl so I can put my fingers in, you gonna stay still for me?” He asks and you nod because how could you say no to anything he asked when he looked so fucking good between your legs.
He leans forward and kisses your clit when you nod, letting go of you with one of his hands. You can feel the tip of his finger at your hole and you put all your effort into being still as he slides one of his long fingers inside of you. He quickly adds another, curling the long digits as he pumps them in and out.
“Fuck, Tom!” You cry out, eyes shut in pleasure.
You feel that tug low in your belly as he works you open.
“Doing such a good job for me baby” he praises you before attaching his mouth back to your pussy. Your toes curl as your orgasm hits you, unable to stop the way your body shakes as you cum on Toms face.
Tom keeps his mouth on you through the whole thing and you have to push his head away when you finally come down.
You’re still trying to catch your breath when Tom comes up to look at you,
“I want you, more than this” Tom reminds you with a kiss, you feel drunk on him.
His soft hair tickles your forehead and his hands come up to cup your face. The weight of him on top you feels so right and everything in that moment was bliss.
You were scared of getting hurt, but if you could have more moments like this? Then you knew trying with Tom would be worth it.
“I want you too Tom…” you tell him, wrapping your arms around him “…let’s try”
“Thank you…” was all he whispered, lining himself up with your entrance.
Your head falls backwards the second he pushes into you, nails digging into his shoulders. He fucks you like he has something to prove, his sharp, deep thrusts hitting all the right spots.
“Fuck babe!” You moan out when he pushes one of your legs up and your toes curl at the new angle.
You finally gather yourself enough to look up at him, body glistening with sweat and face contorted in pleasure. You can’t help but moan at sight, boosting Toms ego.
“You look so pretty. Looking up at me while I fuck you” he grunts, pounding you even harder now. You wrap both your legs around his waist, feeling yourself grow close. The brunette reaches down to rub your clit and then your orgasm is washing over you.
“I’m gonna cum Y/N” Tom pants, and you clench your walls around him.
“Cum for me Tommy ” you hum, voice completely sexed out before licking his earlobe and he’s done for.
Toms hips stutter as he spills into you and you rock your hips against him until he’s finished.
He catches his breath, looking at you with a smile.
“Did you mean what you said?” He asks and you nod sleepily.
“I did, but can we talk about it in the morning? I’m tired” you giggle and Tom moves to get off of you but you pull him back down. He settles on top of you with a grin.
“So your staying?”
“I’m gonna stay, Tom”
_____________________________________
so much going on rn the fandoms are eating 😭 remember my inbox is always open & I love u!
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hollandcrush · 8 months ago
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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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