#tom holland fanfiction
#37 and 44 prompt with tom :))
❀ girls like you ❀￼
it’s my first time writing bartender!tom & it was a lot of fun, i hope y’all enjoy :’) i think this au is gonna be reoccurring on this blog lmao 😳 also! gif by the wonderful @cindymooons <3
prompts: (37) kitchen counter make-outs + (44) wrapping your legs around your lover’s body as they lift you
↳ bartender!tom, rich kid!y/n, secret dating au, a pretty frivolous make-out
word count: 1.4k
flufftober drabbles (requests are open!)
when the clock finally ticks 12:30 am, tom slides out from behind the bar and walks towards the large double doors leading to the hotel main lobby. it’s been a long shift; ten hours with only a half hour break in between to get off his feet and smoke a cigarette outside in the sweet, sweet silence.
customers of the four seasons bar are especially rowdy on a friday night. tom’s got a theory at least half the somewhat wealthy, married men of london go there instead of their homes, tan lines apparent on their finger where their wedding ring used to be, now shoved into the pocket of their work slacks. they drink like retired sailors and lay on the shameless flirting heavily. the former doesn’t really bother tom—after almost three years of bartending here, he’s at a point where he doesn’t really need a partner to split the workload with on busy nights.
as he slides the final lock shut, a loud throat clearing takes him by surprise, and he jumps up with his hands in a fight position. the sight of you leaning against the now open staff door behind the bar has him relaxing, but it’s too late; your arms are crossed over your chest and a very amused grin plays on your red lips at his ridiculous boxing stance.
“you scared the fuck out of me,” tom breathes, taking out the rag he slides into the belt loops of his trousers. wiping the closest table, he watches as you move to lean forward against the bar, giving him a better view of your cleavage.
“oops,” you say, tone utterly remorseless. “i’m not keeping you from work, am i?”
as if that’s ever stopped you before. tom shakes his head, pointing to the empty room. “just closing up for the day. what are you doing here, accepting an oscar?”
you snort, teasingly striking a pose. the gown you’re wearing probably costs more than his car; long, black, and shimmery. it’s sleeveless, a sweetheart neckline highlighting your chest and collarbones. “no, just a little gathering for one of daddy’s new sponsors.” you answer, shrugging casually as though it’s something everyone does once in a while. in your world, that’s the case, tom reminds himself with a bite to his inner cheek.
“had the time of your life, i gather?” he grins when you roll your eyes and mime a gun to your forehead. “nobody talks about the struggles of girls like you. poor princess.”
even several feet away from you, he notices the way your eyes darken at the pet name, and it fills his chest with pride. good, you’re not the only one who can tease.
“yeah, well, just wanted to see if you’re up to anything before i go home.” liar.
leaving the rag behind, tom walks decisively towards the bar, delighting in the way you take a step back when he’s right in front of you. “you’re sure no one saw you coming in here?” he asks, gaze flickering across your expression.
you nod, breath hitching in your throat at the intensity of his honeyed eyes. “i left out of the front door, walked to the end of the block, and entered the staff door through the alley.” you recount, like a kid reciting a memorised poem with pride.
“good girl,” voice raspy as it utters two of your favourite words, tom closes the cap between you, hands sliding around your waist. your chests press together a second before your lips do, and you skip the chaste kisses phase to get straight to open-mouthed, heavy-tongued ones.
your fingers disappear into his hair, the gel he coats it with tired after a long shift, and you work it off his curls pleasantly. moaning into your mouth, tom’s hands crawl up your bare back, drawing shivers along your smooth skin. one of your palms leaves his head, trailing up his uncovered forearms and into his blazer when tom wraps you tighter in his embrace. your heeled legs wrap around his hips as he lifts you up, holding you in place for a brief moment as you break the kiss and dive into his thick neck, before placing you on the counter.
the heat of your tongue sears his sensitive skin as you lick across tom’s adam apple, sucking on the junction of his throat and neck. breathless, his hands cup your face, mashing your unfurled mouths together in another passionate kiss. teeth clashing, tongues fighting, shaky groans floating across the charged air between you.
as thought it physically pains him to do it, tom sighs and moves a hair’s width away, putting an end to your intertwined state. he looks down to your lap, jaw clenching when he notices the slits in your gown that show your thighs and legs in your seat position, with his hips holding them apart. a slow smile curls on your lips when he places his palms on your skin, one of your hands falling on his wrist to draw figures on his strong forearm with the tips of your fingers. the other cups his cheek, raising his head up to lock your eyes.
“i missed you this week,” you whisper, honesty dripping from your words like tequila into a shot glass.
tom’s features soften at your confession, and he squeezes your thigh, bumping the tip of your nose with his. “missed you too, princess.” he mumbles back, although there’s no one around to overhear. “you’ve been busy, huh?”
“my mum’s on my ass about a charity gala we’re supposed to cohost, yet somehow all the work’s fallen into my lap.” despite the annoyance of your statement, your voice is gentle and sweet, in tune with the back and forth movement of your thumb on the apple of his cheek. “i wished i were with you every single day, though. i can’t wait until my parents fuck off to bali next week and you can have me all to yourself again.”
the grin that spreads on his face is completely shameless, like he’s swallowed a hanger, and he locks an arm around your waist, dragging you closer to the edge of the bar. “all to myself… i really like the sound of that, sweetheart.” tom mutters, taking your bottom lip between his teeth for a split second. “as much as i love quickies in the elevator, i just wanna watch a bloody film with you and go to sleep like a regular couple.”
your heart thuds a bit faster when he refers to the both of you as a couple, and you try not to show just how flustered the label’s gotten you. it’s not like you and tom haven’t been exclusive for a few months now, but your situation is so precarious—all the secrecy and running around and scheduling brief moments to meet in between the chaos of your individual lives… it’s just hard to define your arrangement. you can’t even express in words how much it means to you that tom is the one who breaks that barrier for you, and he does so casually, like you’re the only one who’s been obsessing over the seriousness of your relationship this whole time. knowing how head empty he can be, you probably are the only one who’s taken notice of this dilemma.
“i really want that too,” you giggle timidly, laying a kiss on his chin, “especially now that i know, thanks to harrison, you’ve cried while watching notting hill.”
tom throws his head back with a groan, though the corner of his lips fight to curve at the sound of your dulcet laughter. “why would he even tell you that? you’re both obsessed with me.” he jokes, rolling his eyes like a dramatic teenager.
“i’m not obsessed with you, tommy,” grinning, you take his hand into yours and bring it to your chest. “i’m just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her.”
cheeks flushing a furious pink, tom’s mouth dries at the sweet nickname you address him with, before he bites on his lip and looks at you with the most vivid adoration you’ve ever seen. “don’t worry, the boy’s well on his way to loving you.”
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summary: you brought tom as your fake date for your cousin's wedding, what happens when you develop feelings for him 4 months later
warnings: smut minors dni, fake dating (as obvious), maybe a little sadness
(not my gif credits to whoever made it)
(smut warnings: unprotected sex, handjob (f receiving) oral sex (fem receiving)
"Oh y/n who's that lovely man?" Your aunt said as she pointed at your "date". "I'm her boyfriend" Tom said smugly wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you closer to him.
You looked at him and smiled widely but fakely "yeah he is" you looked at him admiringly. "Well you got yourself a quite handsome guy" your aunt said rubbing your arm then she walked away.
"I guess your family really likes me" Tom said proudly, you rolled your eyes taking a sip from your drink "it's not like it's gonna last". "Come on y/n we both know that you really like me you just don't want to admit it" he said following you as you started walking.
You turned around and glared at him "First of all I do not like you, secondly don't you dare talk about this here we are supposed to be dating so shut up and keep acting like my lovely boyfriend." you said smiling through your teeth. He quickly nodded and looked down.
When you and Tom started dating it was all just because you didn't want your cousin to talk about you not being able to have a boyfriend while she's already younger than you and she had a husband. You knew you didn't have to prove anything to her but yet you wanted to see that jealous glint in her eyes when she saw your boyfriend Tom, at the moment you knew you made the right choice by bringing a fake date.
And choosing him as your date was nothing but a coincidence, he was a usual customer at the shop you worked in and you caught him staring at you from the outside of the window a lot of times but you shook your head out of it, later on he asked you for a coffee once and you agreed. You knew that he liked you, you knew that he definitely has something for you and sometimes you feel bad for doing this to him.
But he's the one who said yes when you told him about your plan, you could still remember the disappointment look on his face when you told him "I want you to be my fake date for my cousin's wedding" and for sure you wanted to go back in time and take back what you said, but he said yes.
And for Tom, he couldn't say anything but yes, the glint of hope he caught in your eye when you asked him, and when you bit your lips nervously waiting for his answer he simply couldn't say anything but yes. He knew you didn't feel anything for him, but yet he still had hope that one day maybe you could at least like him back.
After the wedding, you said goodbye to your family and he drove you home. The whole drive was silent, you didn't know whether to thank him or to just stay silent. And he didn't know what to say either, he badly wanted you to tell him that you like him and that you want to turn it to something real but he knew you won't.
"Thanks for the drive." you said as he opened the door for you. "anytime" he said smiling, you nodded and mumbled a good night while walking towards the door of your house.
You walking towards the door was definitely the hardest moment of his life, he was wondering whether to ask you if you like him back or not, he took a deep breath "y/n will you ever feel something for me?" he said a bit loud so you could hear it. You turned around and looked at him, you really didn't know what to say, you didn't even know what feeling you had for Tom, you didn't know if you like him as a friend or as something more and honestly you didn't want to give false hope so you simply shrugged and looked at him, you vision started being a bit blurry due to the tears that were forming in your eyes, he nodded and walked away without saying anything else.
Broken was the least word that would describe his feelings, while he was driving he realized how stupid was he for asking this question and he decided to stop thinking about you, about the person who already took his heart and never planned on giving it back.
4 months later
"Oh my god is that Tom?" your friend Gina asked while you were sitting at restaurant having dinner, after than night you called her and told her about everything from the deal between you and him till what he told you, you cried to her and she listened and comforted you, and when that night replied in your head, you knew you liked him, but you still couldn't admit it to yourself.
You looked and saw him, it was him but he wasn't alone he was with a girl, when you saw her, something started burning deep in your chest, that sight hurt you. You wanted to get up and do something about it, but what will you do? you were the one who rejected him, you were the one who broke him first, you had nothing to tell him.
Those two months were the hardest for Tom, he wanted to move on, he really wanted to forget your existence but somehow he could still see you in every girl, his friends tried and sit him up for dates, but each time he couldn't imagine but you eating the dinner with, he couldn't help but say your name to every girl. He didn't knew how he fell for you that bad or even when but he just did.
It was his second date with a girl he met a club once, he was finally moving on, he found a girl, that he liked and she was perfect, everyone told him that, but she wasn't you.
When he saw you with your friends, he couldn't help but stare at you, you didn't change a bit in those four months, and all the memories between you two started flooding into his head the good ones he remembered the time when you two went for a coffee, he said a silly joke and you laughed at it, a lot. He would never forget that scene in his whole entire life, the sound of your laugh, it was the most beautiful sound in his whole life.
The whole entire date he couldn't focus on anything but you, he caught you looking at him a few times but you immediately looked away.
After a few more minutes you went back home, you shut your eyes tightly trying not to let the tears fall, damn that hurt you thought, you went to your bedroom and buried your head in the pillow, you just wanted this feeling to disappear, that burn in your chest, that jealousy you liked Tom you finally admitted it but what now? it's too late. He found a girl, and you're here crying over someone you rejected, you had no right to be mad at him.
Suddenly your door bell rang, you thought it's your friend, you wiped your tears away and opened the door to be greeted with lips attached to yours, you immediately pushed that person away and looked at him, it was him.
"What are you doing?" you said shocked by the fact that thirty minutes ago he was with his girlfriend and now he's kissing you. "Doing something I was supposed to do a while ago." he said before crashing his lips against your again, but you didn't push him, you couldn't, the feeling of his lips against yours was addictive, his hands tightly wrapped around your waist afraid that you might slip away, your hands tangled in his hear pulling him, deepening the kiss. After a while you pulled away to catch your breath "Tom you have a girlfriend" you whispered swallowing the lump in your throat "she's not my girlfriend we weren't official plus I ended things with her when I saw you at the restaurant" you couldn't help but smile and kissed him again, this time more passionate, his tongue swiped across your bottom lip asking for permission, which you gladly accepted, his hands started going lower and lower until he reached your ass, he gave it a little squeeze and motioned for you to wrap your legs around his waist.
He carried and went to the bedroom, he threw both of you in bed and pulled away, staring at you, your face, your swollen lips, he was breathing heavily and so were you "are you sure about this?" he asked and you quickly nodded, he kissed you again and started taking off your shirt "wow" he muttered underneath his breath when he saw your cleavage, he started kissing down your neck slowly until he found you sweet spot and gave it extra attention, a moan slipped from your lips you could feel him smirk as he sucking on that spot.
He started kissing down your body slowly, your back arched when he kissed the valley between your breasts, until he reached your pants, he looked up at you for permission "yes tom please, need you" you moaned as he gladly started unbuttoning your pants he threw them away somewhere in the room but you could care less, you were aching for him, you were aching for his touch, and he saw that in you, he kissed your covered clit and looked up to see your reaction, your eyes were shut tightly enjoying the feeling he smiled at himself and removed your panties and started his assault on your pussy, sucking and licking your clit continuously, and you were a moaning mess, and that's what he loved to hear, he started teasing your hole with the tip of his finger you moaned louder "please stop teasing I need you" and he immediately thrust two fingers, "you love that babe" he said fastening his pace.
The way your back arched, the way you're moaning his names, the sounds that were formed by his fingers in your wet hole only made him extremely hard, and he couldn't wait for the moment that he would feel your walls clenching arounds and these thoughts only made him harder.
"Come on baby cum for me" he said while drawing fast circles on your clit, you moaned loudly as you came undone. He kept fingering you while riding your high.
You looked at him and saw him smiling you lazily smiled back and pulled him into a kiss while taking off his clothes, you wanted to feel him, to feel how he would fill you up to feel his chest against yours, you wanted to experience that.
He lined his cock with hole after teasing your clit with his tip a bit, he slowly fully entered you with one thrust, you both moaned at the feeling "god you're so tight" he moaned into your ear, he still didn't move giving you time to adjust, you kissed his earlobe as a sign so he could move, he slowly pulled away and thrusted back in, "god you feel so good around me" he buried his head in your neck and started again sucking on that spot.
He knew he wouldn't last much longer so he started rubbing your clit and rolling it but his fingers "oh tommy" you moaned loudly into his ears, and god that sound was music to his ears "Come on babe cum for me" he said thrusting into you faster, your legs started to shake "Cum for me i know you want to" and with his final thrust you came for the second time while wrapping your legs around his waist tighter, he kept moving in and out of you fast and he came with a loud moan.
He laid his body on top of yours catching his breath, after a while he slowly pulled out of you, you whispered at the feeling of emptiness. he laid beside you pulling you to his chest "I don't just like you y/n I am in love you" he said kissing your collar bone, you smile lazily and closed your eyes, you couldn't say anything after the moments you shared, and he respected that, he put the blanket on top of your bodies and closed your eyes.
You didn't knew what's gonna happen in the morning but one thing for sure, you're not letting him go.
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script reading — tom holland
pairing: tom holland x (actress) reader
summary: you and tom reunite after being casted in a netflix series together.
note: i need tom holland requests in my inbox, NOW.
“(y/n), welcome to the sit-down reading today. some cast members are already here so you can chat with them later.”
you nodded, while the kind staff member led you to your designated room. you had recently been casted in a new romantic-comedy series with netflix and today was the script reading with all the cast members.
the tall woman stopped in front of a white door, before turning the knob and opening the door wide enough for you to stare inside. just next to the door laid a sign that read your name.
“this is your room,” she stared down at her wrist watch, “the reading starts in an hour so you can do anything till then.” she offered a kind smile and motioned you to go inside.
“thank you” you smiled before walking and plopping down on the couch inside the room. you heard a slight click, indicating that the woman had closed the door to leave you some privacy.
you stared at the ceiling, still in disbelief. this series had casted you as the main female lead and tom as the main male lead, the thought of that making you shudder.
tom was your ex-boyfriend, so you were surprised that he even agreed to do this project. the director happened to be your best friend, hannah, and let’s just say she was the biggest shipper of the two of you together. just like hannah, your fans went crazy hearing the two of you were making this film together.
you sat up on the couch, noticing your script was already on the table in front of you. your manager lola must have left it in the room beforehand.
picking up the thick paper stack, you started to go over your lines. you had been busy with featuring in several interviews and photoshoots, so you weren’t sure how the plot of the show went.
curiously, you skimmed through the script to reach around three-fourths of the book, before starting to read the lines.
then it hit you, there was a major breakup scene involved in the show. there was the getting-back-together part of the story, but since the show needs some spice there was a breakup scene.
you read that your character has to break up with tom’s character because the two of you grew busy to make time for each other.
“hey (y/n),” someone barged into your room, catching you off guard.
“let’s go meet the other cast members.” you got up from your seat while grabbing your script.
“sure. also hannah, i don’t know how you got me to do this series. you better hope i don’t start crying in the room after seeing tom.” hannah stared at you with pity, remembering how she was there to witness you cry your eyes out after tom and you called it quits.
you still loved tom, but sometimes things don’t work out and you have to learn to accept it.
hannah coughed awkwardly, before handing you a water bottle. “everyone went to the lounge to mingle but tom’s not here yet.”
you kept the smile on your face, hearing about tom made you want to run and cry because it had been six months since the two of you separated. still, you remembered that you promised to remain as friends, and this was film was only work.
“it’s okay, i’m ready.”
hannah gave you one last look before opening the door to the lounge. many people were inside chatting or eating snacks before the reading.
“hello, you’re (y/n) (y/l/n)!” a muscular man said to you as soon as you walked inside. he let out a hand for you to shake, “i’m mark, playing the second male lead, and i’m a big fan of yours.”
you smiled before shaking his hand, “thank you, mark. it’s nice meeting you.”
hannah went off to talk to the staff members while you talked to other cast members including mark.
“this is angela, she’s playing the role of your best friend.”
“hi, i’m (y/n).”
angela let out a chuckle before waving you off, “(y/n), of course i know who you are! you’re my favorite actress and i’m so honored to be casted in the same film as you!” as angela kindly praised you, you couldn’t help but be proud to make some friends.
“i hope we all get closer during this film.” you stated while the two of them nodded in agreement.
“the reading starts soon, cast members please head to the reading room now.” hannah announced while scanning the room.
“are you excited? i’m so nervous.” angela commented while walking beside you.
you shrugged while looking down at the grey tiles, “it’s quite awkward when you’re in the same cast as your ex.”
angela gave the same look that hannah gave you earlier, “you’ve got this, don’t worry about him.”
her encouraging words made you smile and when you entered the room, you headed straight to your seat. angela and mark had their assigned seats right across from yours, so they sat down.
the chair next to you was pulled back, and someone plopped down into the seat.
“hey (y/n),” you froze, the script in your hand dropped to the table.
you coughed a little, “tom? i haven’t seen you in a while.”
you looked to him and he held a grin, “how have you been?”
he was acting like the two of you were old pals, and it hurt that he looked like he’s moved on already. your freshly painted nails tapped on the wooden table surface, a nervous habit you had.
“i’ve been fine, just been doing interviews and photoshoots. you?”
he played with his shirt collar, “i’ve been good.”
it was quiet among the two of you, unlike the rest of the cast who were chattering all around the room.
“(y/n), i wanted to tal-”
“hello, everyone! let’s start the sit down reading now.” a staff member cut off tom’s words and you stared at him in curiosity.
“what were you just saying?” you whispered but he let out a sigh, not making eye contact with you.
“it’s nothing, i can tell you later.”
your lips thinned and you nodded, slightly disappointed at his words. deciding to not worry about it, you tried to act professional for the rest of the reading.
hannah clapped as you said the final lines of the show, “that’s a wrap everyone! thank you all for being so cooperative. first day of filming is this weekend, so i’ll see you all there!”
you dropped the script that you held on the table, letting out a sigh and picking up your phone.
(y/n): the script reading just ended.
lola: good job! the car will be there in five to pick you up.
(y/n): okay. also, thanks for leaving my script in my room.
lola: what script?
a hand grabbed your wrist and stopped you from reading lola’s response. “(y/n), can you talk for a second?”
you turned around and saw tom was the one to stop you. you studied his face and felt weird inside.
“sure, here?” you looked around and saw that angela and mark were leaving the room. the room was almost cleared, people rushing to leave after such a long day.
“no, can you meet me at my house?”
your eyebrows rose in confusion, “your house?”
tom nodded, “yeah, i’ll meet you there.”
that moment, your phone received a message, indicating that your ride was here.
“okay, i might get there earli-”
“you can go inside first. you remember my house password right?”
you nodded slowly but still remained confused, why was he trusting you to go inside his house? what if you suddenly decided to rob him? you wouldn’t, but why did he trust you so much?
“okay, i’ll see you there.”
he let go of your wrist, which you didn’t even notice till now, and held a smile on his face.
“see you later.”
you put tom’s password in, it being the day he got his dog. it used to be the date that the two of you started dating but before you did date, it was the date he got his dog.
since the two of you broke up, you assumed he changed it back to this date.
“i’m here!” you announced and expectedly heard the little sound of tessa running to you.
“come here, tessa,” tom’s dog, tessa, immediately greeted you while jumping and wagging her tail.
“did you miss me? oh my, did you even eat?”
tessa started to whine, and you shook your head at tom before walking over to the kitchen. even though it wasn’t your house, you weren’t going to let tessa starve.
tessa followed behind you, constantly sticking out her tongue in excitement to see you.
“sorry, tessa. tom was probably out filming the whole day and couldn’t feed you.” you said to her while she ate the food you poured into her bowl.
“you should come to my house if you get hungry.” you joked while petting her.
“can i go over too?”
you jumped, scared because you didn’t hear tom come inside.
“tom! you scared me!” you yelled while placing a hand over your heart.
“sorry, i didn’t mean to scare you.”
he looked over to tessa eating, “you know my manager came and fed her, right?”
your mouth fell open, “but there was no food in her bowl when i arrived!”
tom laughed at you, “(y/n), did you forget that tessa eats all her food so her bowl is literally clean?”
his laugh died down as you stood there awkwardly. of course you had forgot, the last time you came here was the night that the two of you broke up; that was six months ago.
“so, what did you want to talk about?” tom started looking around his fridge so you decided to take a seat on the high chair next to the island.
“i wanted to talk about,” he paused a bit, “us?” it sounded more like a question.
you nodded, knowing this moment was going to come. this was the part where tom was going to tell you that he’s moved on and you needed to act more professional around him.
while you were in your own thoughts, you didn’t anticipate tom’s actions.
how he was trying so hard not to ask if you didn’t miss him. how he wanted to just go and hug you because he missed you. how he wanted to make you take him back because he’s still crying at night, asking himself:
‘where did everything go wrong?’
he pulled out the milk carton and started brewing you coffee.
“what about us?” you carefully asked, the atmosphere was felt serious.
tom was focused on the coffee machine, so you closed your eyes to prepare for his next words.
let’s act more profess-
“i miss you.”
your eyes opened wide. however, tom didn’t look at you because he was scared of rejection.
“what?” you croaked out, was this really happening?
“i said, i miss you.” tom finally looked up to see your reaction.
your mouth was wide open, obviously not expecting him to say that.
“but you broke up with me.” you recalled.
“you couldn’t make time for us, you were the one missing our dates,” you stood up from the chair, “you were the one who missed our anniversary.”
tom let out a sigh, both of you knew it wasn’t just his fault that you broke up. you, too, were stubborn enough to not try to fix things. the breakup was both your faults.
“i know, and i’m sorry that i didn’t try harder. but i said what i meant, i do miss you.”
you calmed down a little, taking a breath. just earlier, tom looked like he’s moved on and not to mention that he hasn’t contacted you since your breakup.
“why are you telling me this now?”
the coffee was almost done, so tom began to pour it into a tall glass cup.
he shrugged, not looking at you, “i was scared that you’ve moved on. also, i was the one who broke up with you, so why would you hear me out then?”
he had a point, he knew you would have ignored him then. but now you were better, being able to stand in the same room as him without breaking down.
there was a long silence, the only sound being made was tom pouring milk into your coffee. he finished and placed the glass in front of you, before looking up to meet your eyes.
he was waiting for your answer.
“i,” a phone rang and tom cursed under his breath, the call ruining this moment.
“go answer it, i’ll be in the living room.”
you picked up your glass and walked out of the kitchen to the living room couch, while tom picked up his call.
you were distracted when tessa walked over to you.
you placed the glass down on the table after taking a few sips, picking up tessa instead.
“hey tessa, your dad said he misses me.” tessa sticked her tongue out, not understanding anything but still happy that you were back here.
“i miss him too, but i’m scared. what if he breaks up with me again? i felt so much pain after he broke up with me,” you chuckled, pitying yourself.
“then we don’t breakup again.”
you let tessa down to the ground and stared at tom.
“i said i miss you, and i’ve realized that i love you.” tom started to approach you from the hallway.
“(y/n), i promise i won’t hurt you again. i want to get back together. i know i didn’t say this but breaking up with you was the biggest mistake i’ve ever made in my entire life. i didn’t realize it until you left me that day.”
you felt tears falling down your cheeks and tom wiped them with his thumb.
“please,” he stared at you nervously, “take me back?” he let out a small smile, hurting inside that you were crying.
“if you hurt me again, i’m going to adopt tessa.”
tom let out a laugh before hugging you tightly, “so, that’s a yes?”
“yes.” you mumbled while he pulled away slightly.
“thank you, (y/n). you’re making me the happiest man alive right now.” he picked you up and you let out a squeal.
“you’re officially my girlfriend again.”
“no, you didn’t even ask me!” you argued, while going over to pick up your coffee.
tom watched you take a sip. “fine.” he huffed like a child.
“(y/n) (y/l/n), will you be my girlfriend?” tom stood in front of you with puppy eyes and tessa stood next to him.
you laughed, the two of them looking so adorable.
“yes, now let me play with tessa.”
“no! tessa, stop taking my girlfriend’s attention.”
you rolled your eyes with a smile, watching him pick up tessa to keep her away from you.
he stopped and turned to you. “yeah?”
“i love you.”
tom genuinely smiled after six months, “i love you too.”
extra (a little after the script reading ended)
“paul! i need you to change my house password,” tom checked the time on his phone. “(y/n)’s going over soon, please.”
paul was feeding tessa when tom frantically called him.
“why? isn’t it the date that you started dating (y/n)?”
tom slapped his hand on his forehead, “that’s exactly why i need to change it! how will she react when she realizes that i never changed the password for my house from the date that we started dating, when we’ve been broken up for six months!”
paul laughed at tom from the other line, “fine, what do you want me to put it as?”
“put it as the code i just texted you. oh, and i forgot to thank you for leaving the script in (y/n)’s room. i saw her reading right before we started.”
“it’s no problem tom. call me if you need anything else.”
“thanks again, paul.”
after hearing the call end, paul looked at tessa.
“he’s never stopped loving her, huh?”
tessa barked in agreement.
written on october 22, 2021
link to my tom holland masterlist
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HALLOWEEN PROBLEMS [Tom Holland +18]
Pairing: frat!dom!Tom Holland x fem!reader
Word Count: 5.8k
Summary: Seeing your ex friends with benefits buddy at a Halloween party leads to so many things that you didn’t want but needed
Warnings: alcohol, SMUT (+18 minors dni) (sex memory, lap dance, throat fucking, degradation, praise, cumplay, slapping, vaginal penetration(unprotected), anal fingering)
A/N: This request was sent at the best time. I was trying to think of a halloween themed smut plot and this came in. So thank you anon, hope I did it justice. Alsoooo this request was sent to a few other writers too so I changed it a little and made it a long one shot. Aaaand special thanks to my friend who doesn’t want me to tag, for proofreading and helping me make it better:)))
Reblogs and comments are appreciated<33
Midterms were starting in a week and you had been worried about passing each of them nonstop for the entirety of this month. Your only wish lately was to get rid of school work so that you could finally have some time to yourself and relax a bit. Your sorority sisters however, had a very different idea than your own. And that idea included you going to a frat party.
They didn’t tell you which one it was but you knew that it was a costume party. So you got the most basic Halloween costume at the last minute. A pink playboy bunny bodysuit with the ears and the collar with a bow and of course the fishnet tights. Yes you were going to the party even though you didn’t want to at first and yes you may still be looking like a walking dead with those under eye bags but you couldn’t let people see that version of you now. You still wanted to look hot while getting drunk and probably a hangover. You let your hair down with some loose curls which you did with no care. You knew it was going to get messy from sweating and all that anyway.
You stepped into the frat house and the foremost thing on your mind was that you wouldn’t see that one person. It was his frat house so of course he was here but at least not seeing him would be good for now. You didn’t want to see his unbearably attractive face or hear his cocky comments on anything. You wanted to avoid him at all costs. It was impossible to succeed in that but you wished yourself good luck. You needed it.
The blasting music was doing a spectacular job at muffling the voices of the people in the huge living room. There were some familiar faces around the house hence your previous visits at the house. You wanted to forget about them and went to the kitchen to get something in your system. The kitchen was still loud with the music coming from inside but it was better than there. You found a bottle of vodka and soon you were cheered up already. Finally something to drink other than coffee. All you needed right now was a good time with your friends.
With your red cup filled to the brim you made your way to the living room. You started off as standing in a corner with small sips of your drink, the warm liquid burning your mouth. From horny twenty year olds to drunk dancers in the middle, the room was full of people having fun. You still haven’t stumbled upon the smug looking face since you got here and you weren’t looking forward to it any time soon.
When your drink was finished you moved to where people were dancing, ready to release some nerves on the dancefloor. The music wasn’t something you knew but you didn’t care, you looked hot and you were feeling yourself in your cheeky costume. Hell you could even get laid tonight. Your hands were in the air, slowly tracing your silhouette starting from neck to your breasts then your waist. Maybe it was the alcohol flowing in your veins that made you more confident than you actually were. A pair of hands landed just above your ass. You were happy that you got attention that fast. You just wished that one person didn’t mistake you for another girl. While dancing you turned to face him and by the time your eyes landed on the face in front of you, you were wishing those hands were someone else’s.
There he was. Standing right in front of you, hands now on your waist. He had this grinning look on his face that he always had. Eyes were low, and he looked a little tipsy. You hated that he was all over you, he even tried to kiss your neck but you pulled back. You hated that he wanted to be with you after what he’s done. You hated that you wanted him to want you after what he’s done. It was wrong but he was just too irresistible. Still though, you weren’t going to give in just yet- maybe the whole night. “Wrong girl, Holland.” you warned Tom.
“Oh no love, this is the right girl. I'd recognize that ass anywhere.” God would he stop being like this.
“What do you want, Tom? Aren’t you mistaking me for Ava? Or was it Bella?” You snapped back at him. You hated him for what he did that night on your birthday. You and Tom weren’t anything serious. Neither of you wanted a relationship so you just fucked around all the time. You decided that it was going to be a no feelings attached type of thing and it was. You fucked whenever you felt like it and it felt good to relieve stress that way. And Tom was incredible in bed even though he didn't look like it. He knew how to please a woman in bed, if only he could have shut his mouth at that moment.
It was your birthday and after the party you and Tom went back to his frat house. He was giving you the best birthday gift, pleasuring you in every way he could. His body was doing all the things you wanted. Hands on your breasts, massaging one while the other was in his mouth. His dick was pounding into you so hard that he made you come twice while he was still inside you. Right when you were about to come for the third time his high was approaching too. His thrusts became sloppier and grunts louder. “I’m coming… I’m coming… Oh my God… Ava.” You were so close and with what he said you just froze and was turned off immediately. It would be great if your name was Ava but it wasn’t. He came while you just laid there under him, staring at the ceiling with watery eyes. Of all the time you were having sex with he’s done this once but it was at the beginning of your friends with benefits situation so you didn’t care that much. But then, it has almost been eight months. You weren’t jealous or anything because both of you were doing this because of sexual needs and nothing else. The thing that bothered you was that when your friends with benefits deal was going on you decided to not to have sex with other people to prevent STIs. So you thought when he moaned that girl’s name, he was fucking some other girl and it pissed you off. And first of all it was big turn off for anyone to hear someone else’s name during sex. After that night you didn’t talk to him- or at least tried not to. So you searched sex in other people but that didn’t go well either. Instead you focused on your classes better. Having no distraction was working for you. Until now.
“Darling we both know it was a mistake and I only wanted you at that moment.” he stated his excuse for the hundredth time. You didn't buy it of course but the turn off moment was four months ago. It didn’t change the fact that you wanted to feel his body on yours again, wrapping his hands everywhere. He needed a little more time to be away from you. That's what you thought but the thing he was wearing, well not wearing, was making everything harder.
“Whatever. I thought this was a costume party and here you are dressed like yourself.” He was wearing black pants and just a tie around his neck, showing off his muscular structure. This was his daily look minus the tie and he would wear sweatpants. You couldn’t lie to yourself saying you didn’t like his body. Liking was an understatement, you worshipped that body. Not only four months ago that body was all yours to feel it. So seeing him again with his abs glowing under the led lights of the house was making you feel things again.
“Magic Mike.” A chuckle left his mouth. “And for the record I dress way better than him, love.” The smirk on his face wouldn’t fade, would it? His face was tilted to the right and his hand went up to your shoulder. His fingers traced your collarbone then the bow tie around your neck. You didn’t know why you were holding your breath but his touch made you shiver. It’s been a really long time since you felt those fingers on your body, it satisfied you in ways you couldn't express with words. “Look, you've even copied my costume.” his hand went up to your hair. He tugged at the root and your head went back a little. He got closer to you and his hot breath was on your ear. “I have a surprise for you.” He whispered and acted like none of this happened. “Enjoy the party!” he walked away and you were now standing frozen in the middle. You were left speechless after that, he had that power over you. It took you a second to get it all together, you shook your head and thought you shouldn’t give in to him even though how much you want it.
The party was going great unlike your expectations. You had a shot with your sisters and even though you haven’t drunk that much tonight, it felt like you did. You were still dancing when a familiar face approached you and he looked ridiculous. “Haz is that you?” He looked like Tom, but instead of a tie he had a long chain with a leather vest and on top of his head was a cowboy hat. He opened his arms to show his costume and nodded his head to the beat of the song. “Why is everyone naked in this party?” you questioned and Harrison gave you raised brows. “Sounds funny coming from you, bunny.” He flicked the bunny ears on your head and laughed. “Ha ha very funny.” You fake laughed.
“Anyways, I gotta show you something. Come with me.” If it wasn’t Harrison you would have left the guy alone there and moved somewhere else. The only bad thing about him was being friends with Tom. He was literally the opposite of him and you still didn’t know how they stayed friends. But you were happy Harrison didn’t get affected by Tom and did the things he did. He held your hand and led you to the front of the room where a lot of people were gathering. “Just stay here.” he told you and left.
The DJ lowered the volume of the music and a few people brought five chairs to the empty area in front of the DJ table. Tom walked onto the so-called stage with a microphone in his hand. You still didn’t know what was happening but you guessed the thing Harrison was going to show you was this. Tom. He was his best friend after all, he would do anything.
“What’s up everybody!” Tom shouted into the microphone and everyone cheered with their drinks in the air. “Hope everyone’s having a good time.” Every time he finished a sentence everyone was just shouting and jumping in their place. “But let’s have some more fun. Shall we?” With that five guys set themselves behind the chairs, two of them being Tom and Haz. All of them were dressed like the guys in Magic Mike. So this was why, the reason why the frat boys were practically naked. To put on a show.
“Hit it DJ!” Pony by Ginuwine played loud through the speakers and the five guys walked towards the crowd. So he was really going to make you jealous by giving a lap dance to other girls. This was it. You didn’t want to see any of this, you were leaving this party. Just when you turned your back a hand held your forearm. You recognized the calloused fingertips.
“We’re just getting started, darling.” Tom smiled at you. “What?” So this was his surprise. He wasn’t intended to make you jealous, he was going to do the show with you. He led you to the stage while holding your two hands and sat you down on the chair in the middle. You were in the middle of everyone’s attention. As if your costume wasn’t attention seeking already, you were now sitting at the front and Tom was going to you a lap dance you assumed. That was what they did in the movie. They got girls from the audience and gave them the best time with a lap dance and more.
When all the guys brought girls from the crowd the song got louder and every guy got in front of the girls. Tom was looking into your eyes, never breaking eye contact and there was a smug smile. His hands went to your knees and he slowly spread them apart, there was now an empty space on the chair in between your legs. You hoped you didn’t flash anyone with your bodysuit on the crotch area.
Tom put his foot on the chair, his other leg was on the outside of the chair. With the beat of the song he thrusted his hips towards you. You tried to look somewhere else but Tom didn’t allow it. He put a gentle hand on your chin and turned your face back where it was. “Don’t even try to look at something other than me.” He took your hands in his and guided them on his body. You felt his hard rock abs in the palm of your hands. He then brought them to his sides then to his hips. Your heart was beating too fast in its place, you were scared Tom would feel it from where he was standing. He was basically winning your heart back with what he was doing and it was working.
“You like what you feel, darling?” You couldn’t even answer that question and you didn’t need to anyway. He already got your answer with your eyes. Even when your mouth was shut, your eyes were telling everything. But to answer it you just nodded your head so slightly. His hips were still thrusting into the air and you could see the outline of his dick. You felt weird but good at the same time about getting wet over him after four months.
Tom placed his leg that was between your legs to the other side so he was now straddling your lap. He took a hold of both of your wrists with his one hand and with the other he held the chair. Looking down at his arms, his veins were popping out. He again thrusted his hips towards you and with every move he was making, you were getting wetter. He got to his feet after the song faded into All The Time by Jeremih and Tom licked his lips looking down at you. He shook his head like he was saying something. You looked up at him with excited eyes, you knew you wanted to make him wait a little more but with everything he was doing, Tom had you twisted around his finger.
All of a sudden Tom’s hands went under your thighs and he lifted you in his arms. Once your legs were wrapped around his waist he turned around and sat on the chair himself. His lips leaned towards your ear and he whispered as the song played. “I can fuck you all the time” You melted under his words and hands on his abs. You were breathing heavily on his lap and his dick was getting more prominent under you. This time you got closer to his ear and whispered to show that you were or at least pretending to be not impressed by him. “I think you have a problem Holland.” you smirked this time.
“You’re my only problem.” He paused for a second and squeezed your ass. “But I know how to handle my problems.” he smirked back and leaned back on the chair. He took the microphone from the ground and tapped on it to make sure it was working. “Happy Halloween everybody! Have fun.” he dropped the microphone and stood up with you on his lap. “And you’re coming with me to solve this problem, bunny.” He said to you and you knew what was coming up. You hated to admit that you were going to love it.
He walked to the nearest bathroom and closed the door with one hand while the other was still holding you up. The whole way there you couldn't help yourself to not touch his muscular shoulder blades. He pressed your back to the tiles of the bathroom. He attacked your neck as soon as you two were left alone and you were a whimpering mess just because of his kisses and bites. He was moaning into your neck as you rubbed yourself against him and that made him hundred times hotter than he already was. The vibrations from his mouth were working you up slowly.
“I’m gonna fuck the jealous out of you.” He said but you tried not to give in too much to him. “And I’m gonna fuck you right back until my name is the only one in your mouth.” You snapped back at him and you didn’t know what got into you.
“Wow little bunny is feeling brave tonight. Isn’t she?” He knew how to talk to you even after four months. He had complete control over you and you accepted it at this point. By the time he dropped you to your feet, your bodysuit was so wet between your legs you were scared it was going to be seen on the outside.
“Now on your knees, love.” He commanded and just like a puppy you listened to what he said and kneeled in front of him, lifting your ass a little. It was on display for him and with that bodysuit half your ass cheeks were out. He unzipped his pants and lowered them along with his briefs in one swift move. He was already semi-hard and with you looking up at him through your eyelashes his cock was getting harder. “Let’s shut that pretty mouth of yours, yeah?” He held your chin with one hand and swiped his thumb over your bottom lip. When he moved it into your mouth you welcomed it with such desire. You sucked on his finger like it was his dick. You were basically craving for it. It was right in front of you and yet you were still begging to have it in your mouth. “You’re such a pathetic slut, sucking my thumb like that.” He shook his head down at you, with one hand he was slowly working himself up. “Let me see your tongue, pretty girl.” He removed his finger from your mouth and you whimpered at the emptiness. But it was okay because something bigger and better was going to replace it.
He brought his cock in his hand towards your mouth and and your head instantly moved forwards as a reflex. "A little impatient, are we?" He tsked and slapped your tongue with his dick a few times. You wanted to lick and suck on it so bad he was just torturing you but you loved it. It was the first time you felt his dick on your tongue in four months. Wow. How did you even survive without him that long? Nobody was even there to replace him. Just your fingers and your dildo.
When he finally thrusted his hip you got him inch by inch. You missed that feeling so much that you were addicted to it, never wanting to leave it. You moaned into his dick and his hand went to your hair immediately. He did a ponytail with his hand and guided your head up and down on him. Your right hand went to stroke the rest of his dick that you couldn't fit in your mouth. You sucked on his dick like it was your last meal, trying to taste every part of it. You were going to pull back and lick him from root to tip but his hand was applying a force to not let you do that. His guide was getting stronger and he was fully in your mouth. You were choking on his dick and your hands moved to his balls to massage them. Eyes ready to shed the tears formed, he pulled back to let you breathe. It didn't last long to shove himself in your mouth back again. Your cheeks were hollowing with how much you were sucking on him. His dick was what you needed, it wasn't a distraction. You were trying to keep yourself distracted with other things to not think about him.
At one point you looked up at him and his head was on his shoulder, lips parted. The wet sounds your mouth was making and his grunts were the only thing you could hear. The party music faded into the background and the only sound you focused on was his. He pushed himself all the way again and held your head there. You were a mess gagging on him but you liked how he had control over you and used you as his fucktoy. After releasing his hand from your hair, he held your head still and thrust himself into your mouth. The tip of his cock was going down your throat, bruising it with every move. "You're taking me so well, pretty girl." He moaned looking at you. The view was amazing from up there. His dick disappearing and reappearing in your mouth, your ass wiggling slowly in its place out of pleasure. And your eyes. Your eyes were on him and he swore he would look at you like this forever if he could.
You couldn't help yourself and lowered your hands between your legs. Started teasing your clit over your clothes. You've become so sensitive that you were sure it was now swollen and waiting for any type of friction. Your fingertips applied more pressure and out of sensitivity you moaned more into his dick. He pulled himself completely. "Hands off yourself love, don't be a brat." You could do nothing but obey him otherwise he wasn't going to give you what you needed. Your hands went on to hold on to his thighs and he smiled at you proudly. "Yeah like that good girl. Then maybe you can get me all to yourself." You opened your mouth like a desperate whore in front of him waiting for his dick to be on your mouth again. "Have I told you how cute you look when you beg for my dick?" You whimpered after his words, he had you pooling in your clothes and all you could do was wait for him to take care of it if he wanted to.
He continued fucking your mouth and while you were holding onto his muscular thigh with one hand for stability, the other was helping you massage him when your mouth couldn't. His hips were moving at a really fast pace that his balls were slapping your chin. You were gagging and choking and crying on your knees, saliva was dripping from the corner of your lips. You felt him getting close to his orgasm when he was twitching, his thrusts were also getting sloppier. "I'm gonna fucking cum. Just like that my pretty slut." He was moaning your name and it turned you on even more. When you whimpered his voice was getting louder. He didn't give a fuck about who could hear him when it was you taking him in your mouth. In fact the whole world would know about it and he would be proud of it because it was you. You were the only one making him feel this good. "Oh my God… Yeah!!!" he came in your mouth and released his white cum down your throat and at first you swallowed what was coming. But then when you continued bobbing your head on him he released more. Now his cum was all over your mouth, leaking with saliva. You kept going even though he came down from his high. You wanted him to keep fucking your throat and tell you things that you would hate if someone else said it. His hand pulled your hair from the root and lifted your head from him. He was panting and you wished you could take a picture of him right at that moment. He looked perfect. His curly brown hair stuck to his forehead, eyes low and chest glistening with sweat.
Tom held your chin and helped you get on your feet. He looked at you like you were a masterpiece. One he painted himself. His hand came to your face and swiped your saliva and cum covered mouth with a couple slender fingers and smeared it on your cheek, an undeniable excitement in his eyes and a promisingly wicked smirk on his face. “You are so perfect like this.” He whispered. What was left on his fingers from your face was now in his mouth, cleanly licking them.
"Now look in the mirror and clean your face. We have more problems to solve." he pushed you in front of the mirror and gave a little slap to your ass. You jumped in your place with a wince and looked in the mirror. Your face was covered in his cum and it looked delicious. You knew you would look like a mess after this party but this was not what you thought of when you left the house. It wasn't bad though, you adored how he messed you up. It made you feel like your body belonged to him. You swiped your fingers over your face and brought them to your mouth to lick them. You looked at Tom through the mirror while you were sucking your cum painted fingers. He nodded his head with dark eyes.
The bathroom was not close to Tom's room so that meant you had to walk through the crowd of people in the living room. It wasn’t a big deal since most of them were drunk and wouldn’t remember even if they saw you going up Tom’s room. But your face was still covered in cum no matter how much you tried to clean it with your fingers. The only thing you could do was hoping nobody would look your way. When you opened the door for the bathroom you checked if there was anybody nearby so you could sneak out better. Guess Tom noticed your hesitation. “What? Scared of being a slut in front of people, you’re already dressed like one.” He slapped your ass and got in front of you to cover.
You held his hand and walked up the stairs as fast as you can to avoid any interaction with anyone but you were unsuccessful. “Get it Tom!” Harrison shouted from downstairs and you didn’t even think of turning back to look at him. You just face-palmed yourself while everyone cheered for Tom with the chants “Yeah!” or “Go Tom!”. Thank God Tom didn’t want to embarrass you more and gave them the middle finger.
When you finally got to Tom’s room the first thing he did was to kiss you to make up for the four months he couldn’t touch you. Neither of you had feelings for the other but the desire to have each other wasn’t something to ignore. You adored each other's body and to feel it in ways nobody did. Your hands were all over each other, trying to touch every inch of it. The kiss was messy and sloppy, and Tom could still taste himself on your lips. Muffled moans were all you could hear when you were glued against each other. Tom’s hand traveled to your back to unzip the bodysuit. He struggled to drag it down at first but when he fully unzipped it goosebumps covered you. You were literally naked other than the bodysuit, no bra or panties, just fishnet tights and the bow tie around your neck.
Tom looked at you with worshipping eyes. It has been four months since he had seen your sculpture-like body. He attached his lips around your nipples and didn’t even notice that you weren’t wearing any underwear under the fishnets. Your body was so sensitive after not having someone touch it. Every contact of his skin to yours sent shivers down your spine. His hand went to your throat while his lips were on your tits. “Let’s replace this, yeah?” He took the bow tie off and loosened the tie around his neck with one hand. He pulled himself back a little to remove the tie and put it around your neck. “Better than I imagined.” He smiled at you. He dragged the bunny ears off your head and threw them somewhere in the room. Your lips found his sweet spot under his left ear and sucked on it. The silent moans leaving his lips were what made you weak in the knees every time. You wondered how you were not dripping down your thighs at this point. His calloused hands were fondling with your ass, squeezing and spreading it apart. That was the moment he realized you weren’t wearing anything underneath.
“You really are a slut for me aren’t you?” You hummed, nodding your head, unable to speak properly. You were about to tug at the waistband of the tights but his hand on your wrist stopped you. “Leave them on, darling.” He commanded but you were confused as to how he was going to do anything with them. He started kissing you again while walking you to the bed. He stopped when he came to the foot of the bed and turned you around in one smooth move. With the heels on your ass was on perfect level with his dick. He bent you down, placing small kisses up your spine. His hand traveled in the front and he held the tie that was dangling down your neck. He turned it around to control you as he wished. He held your chin and with a force turned your face to the side. “Are you gonna be a good girl for me darling?” You nodded with obeying behaviour and he let your face free.
Tom was in complete control behind you and you were waiting for him to do something. His pants unzipped again and anytime he was going to do fuck you. But you were still confused on how he was going to do that. But that question was soon answered by a ripping sound. He was playing with your ass cheeks and all of a sudden he tugged his fingers in the holes of the fishnet and ripped them apart. “Tom!” You cried but he slapped your ass in response. “What did I tell you? Don’t be a bad girl.” He slapped again and lined his cock with your entrance.
Your core was soaking wet and he smeared the wetness along your slit with this tip. When it touched your swollen bud you bucked your hip back and Tom laughed at your neediness. “Little girl is desperate and impatient huh?” He slipped into you without a warning and both of you groaned. “Oh God I missed your tight pussy so much.” He took a hold of the tie again and pulled it to himself but not too much to bring you up. With one hand he held your ass and pounded into you. The room was filled with wet sound and your moans. Your ass was sticking to Tom’s hips with sweat and cum. You heard your name falling from his lips like poetry, over and over again. “How much do you want me?” he asked and without a hesitation you answered. “So much Tom.” He pulled out completely and shoved his cock balls deep inside you harder. He did this a few times until you begged him not to. The bed sheets under hands were now wrinkled with how much you were pulling them.
The hand on your ass moved downward. His fingers got closer to your other hole and he rubbed little circles around it. “How about this?” He asked and you were okay with it. You and Tom tried anal before so a finger wouldn’t be a problem now. He brought his thumb to your mouth again. “Get it wet so I can fuck your ass with my finger.” His thumb got around your hole and he pushed it slowly. You sucked on it while he was still thrusting into you. He took it out and pushed it into your tight hole slowly. You were crying out of pleasure, you haven’t felt this full in such a long time. Your running mascara was now painting the white bedsheets.
“Tom, I’m gonna come.” you whined. Tom dropped the tie and found your clit. He rubbed fast circles on it. “Let go for me.” he commanded and sped up his pace everywhere. Your tits were bouncing and the bed was shaking. Your orgasm hit you like an explosion. Everything was calm and not at the same time, your mind went blank for a second. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head. With your legs shaking in lust you were about to fall but Tom’s hand on your clit came to your thighs and held you. After you came down, you realized Tom’s thrusts were becoming sloppier and his thumb in your hole stayed still. He was focusing on chasing his orgasm. He pulled out both his cock and finger unexpectedly and turned you around so that you would fall onto the bed. He Took his cock in his hand and stood between your legs. His head was falling to his shoulders and eyes were closing in pleasure. He bit his lip and stroked his cock towards your chest. You opened your mouth, tongue out, hoping some of his cum would shoot to your mouth. With a few more pumps he came to your tits. Some of it luckily came to your tongue and you swallowed it gladly. After he came down from his high as well, he dropped next to you on the bed.
You turned sideways to kiss him and his hands went to your boobs then spread the cum again with his palms. “Stay the night. We’ll shower in the morning.” He mumbled into the kiss and you hummed against him.
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this is me requesting for the first time but maybe going like to a haunted house with peter like wearing a couples costume but none of you have confessed and it leads to a confession<3 i hope this made sense 😭
warnings: swearing, a little suggestiveness, and a lot of outer banks references
a/n: hehe i’m super happy with how this came out and i hope you are too!! i know i’m taking forever to get through these requests but i promise i’m working on them y’all please enjoy this one in the meantime <3
“guys, i’m fucking freezing out here,” you whine, teeth chattering and arms crossed over your chest. “i wonder why,” mj deadpans in reference to your costume.
your friend group decided to be the pogues for halloween this year, and you’re sarah cameron. in hindsight, a sleeveless crop top and skinny jeans weren’t the best choice coverage-wise.
you rub your exposed arms as you wait on line for the haunted house mj dragged everyone to. she refused to dress up unless you all did something she wanted in return, so here you are.
“you know what they say, em. go big or go home,” you defend. mj smugly adjusts the collar of her graphic tee — she’s supposed to be pope. “well, i’ll go home then. i don’t stick to the status quo.”
she saunters over to ned, currently jj, which gives peter the opportunity to steal her spot.
he comes up behind you with a squeeze at your shoulders to announce his presence. his warm palms feel nice against your cold skin, really nice.
“woah, you are freezing,” he confirms, thumbs running across your shoulder blades. “i could help with that.”
peter is grinning one of his toothy grins when you look at him, and you instantly grin back.
“please,” you laugh out and turn around to face him. “you wouldn’t mind, though?” still smiling, peter shakes his head.
he winds his arms comfortably around your waist, stepping towards you.
“as your john b, not one bit. not as your peter, either.”
did he just call himself yours?
you hum and tug on the bandana tied around peter’s neck. he draws you in so you’re chest to chest, only his is bare. how he manages to stay so toasty while wearing less than you is a mystery.
your hands innocently slide under his barely buttoned floral top. he shivers under your touch, chuckling softly.
“damn. i’m, like, elsa or some shit if i can ice you out,” you joke, pressing your hands flat against his stomach.
peter’s abs clench, and his cheeks turn so rosy that you notice even on the darkly lit street.
“no, no. you’re fine. we just…” he clears his throat, another smile painting his lips. “we’ve never been this close before.”
he’s right. you might cuddle during movie nights or hug when you’ve had bad days, but that doesn’t exactly compare to being flush against each other’s half naked bodies.
just friends is starting to feel a lot like more than friends.
“we’re next, mr and mrs,” ned informs you and peter, gesturing for you to move up in line. “huh?” peter splutters at the same time you choke out a, “what?“
“it’s almost our turn to go in,” ned reiterates obliviously.
because that’s definitely the part you were freaking about.
mj smirks and nudges you both forward, since you’re currently stuck in place. “mr and mrs, as in routledge,” she clarifies on ned’s behalf.
right, your costumes. john b. routledge and sarah cameron.
“totally,” peter scratches the back of his neck. “makes sense,” you quietly agree.
you and peter begin leading the way to the entrance of the haunted house. you’re already missing his warmth, despite the fact that you’ve barely been without it.
“two at a time,” a worker tells you as you reach the entrance. you sneak a glance at peter, who’s already gazing at you.
“uh, we have to split up,” peter relays to ned and mj. “what do you wanna do?” he’s asking everyone, although his eyes are locked with yours. you suck in a breath and boldly link your arm through his. “come with me.”
mj snickers at the exchange, doing the same to ned to mimic you.
“i guess this is fitting. we are jj and pope,” she remarks. “let’s go, leeds.” she nods at you and peter as she passes by you two to head inside, ned wiggling his eyebrows. “catch you on the flip.”
that leaves you and peter alone, and touching, and ready to admit what you haven’t had the courage to until now. the two of you walk off to the side so you can chat freely.
“why me?” peter wonders after a moment. “because you’ll keep me safe from whatever the hell is in there,” you explain lightheartedly, then add on a serious note, “you’re a protector, pete. it’s one of the many things i like about you.”
peter’s hand finds yours and tangles your fingers together, urging you to continue.
“i like everything about you, actually,” you murmur, peter holding your intertwined hands over his heart. “i could say the same, y/n,” he speaks lowly.
you giggle and crane your neck up to him, nudging your nose against his. peter’s other hand cups your cheek gingerly, his eyes practically twinkling.
ned’s shrieking from inside the haunted house interrupts the moment, you and peter bursting into a fit of laughter nevertheless. that’s your cue.
“shall we, mr. routledge?” you prompt peter. he caresses your cheek with a bite of his lip, attempting to suppress yet another smile. “we shall, mrs. routledge.”
207 notes · View notes
Hey bestie do you know any good soulmate aus (peter or tom) thank you
hey - her are some for you <3
Sleigh Ride - @ohholyfanfics
Warm, Tingly Feeling - @mendespideys
Bloom (Series) - @duskholland
Hold You Forever - @devotion
Sunset Lovers - @duskholland
Falling, With Eyes Wide Open - @hazofmyheart
My Youth Is Yours - @waitimcomingtoo
Learn To Be Lonely (Series) - @cali-holland
Soulmate (Series) - @spiderboytotherescue
Not Like This - @angelic-holland
Meant To Be - @mcumendes
* I Only Feel You - @stuckonspidey
151 notes · View notes
Bound to You: Prologue—She Will Destroy You
Summary: (Y/N) hates lace trimming, satin, sipping her tea, and the entirety of her life in the royal court. But most of all, she hates silly British boys that happen to resemble frogs.
Word Count: 7.3k
Warnings: child injury, swearing, typos, angst, character death
a/n: you guys can’t even believe how excited i am to start this series. i’ve been thinking and planning and writing for this series since june. i can wait for you to see all the twists and turns i have in store and i can’t wait to rip your hearts out >:). love you all so much and thank you so much for your never ending support and love. as always, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!
Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist
It was days like this when you truly abhorred your life. Days when the palace was bustling with gossiping maids, overbearing lords, and their whorish mistresses, hoping to get in on the royal affairs. Days when your mother would force you into the finest silks and satins, no matter how much of a scorcher the summer sun was, no matter how much the fabrics would weigh you down.
Dahlia, your sister who was two years your senior, never minded. She curbed her tongue far more than you ever could. She played her role far better than you ever dared. Because you knew that if you played into your parents’ wishes for you, then you’d never get out. You’d never find happiness away from court.
“(Y/N),” the sharp voice of your mother cut through the air, “stop pulling at the hem, dear. It’s unbecoming of a princess.”
You rolled your eyes but kept your hands stationed at your sides as you stood in the heat like dead pigs, clammy and sticky, waiting for the faint hooves of the carriage to plow in the distance.
“What will he be like?” You asked Dahlia, gripping onto her white-gloved hand. She merely shrugged and squeezed your hand in hers.
“Don’t worry, flower,” She smiled, “he’s a prince. I’m sure he’s just as charming as father.”
“Doubtful,” You scoffed, which earned you a harsh bop upside the head from your mother.
“Hush now,” She scolded, “I want you both to be on your best behavior for the king of England. This is the beginning of a new era. Scotland and England will finally find peace. Now, Dahlia, you will greet the prince with—”
“A curtsy and a ‘your grace’” Dahlia recited, “I know, mother.”
“Hm,” your mother hummed, “you’ve been spending too much time with (Y/N), you know better than to interrupt.”
“My apologies,” Dahlia murmured.
“Speak clearly now.” Your mother demanded, “now shush, I believe I hear the carriage.”
She was right, the light shuffling of hooves and the squawking of wheels was busting through the thicket of the forest around the castle. You reached for your father’s hand and grasped it. Your father looked down at you, giving you a small smile and a squeeze before letting go and returning his gaze to the castle gates.
You didn’t have to wait much longer before the guards were announcing the arrival of the English royal family. The gates opened and in came trotting three carriages pulled by the most gorgeous horses you’d ever seen. The carriages were light blue and white, trimmed with golden detailing. It was nauseatingly extravagant and looking at it for too long made your eyes hurt.
The carriages stopped in front of you and your family, and out first came the king. You’d only ever heard about him, King Dominic. The ruler of England for the past fifteen years after the death of his father. Married to Queen Nicola and together they have four sons, but their oldest was the only one already promised to another, your sister.
Thomas, the oldest, was Dahlia’s age, ten, while the two twins, Harry and Samuel, were your age, eight. The youngest, Paddison, was just a baby. You were forced to learn about the royal English line once Dahlia was promised to Thomas. Your studies switched in the past three months from learning about how to hold our teacup and sip rather than slurp to learning about a family you didn’t care for.
“Your grace,” Your mother bowed before the king. He took her hand and planted a kiss on it, “it’s an honor to have you in our court.”
“The honor is mine, Queen Guinevere,” Dominic smiled, “thank you for housing my rowdy boys, I do hope it’s no trouble.”
“Of course not, it’s a privilege.”
Dom nodded and stepped aside as Nicola came out and shook your mother’s hand as well. Your father greeted the king as though they were old friends as the young boys exited the carriage.
“Your grace,” Your sister curtsied to Queen Nicola, “thank you for blessing our court with your presence.”
“Oh please do rise, dear,” Nicola fawned over your sister, “I assure you it is a blessing to be in your presence, little princess.” She looked over to you and gave you a kind smile, “You as well, little one. My sons Sam and Harry are so excited to meet you.”
You gave her a smile and a quick curtsy, “I am excited too, your grace.”
Nicola moved on as the boys finally approached you and your sister, “Princess Dahlia,” a boy with brown hair and big ears approached your sister, “It’s a pleasure to enter your court,” he said, taking her hand and placing a kiss on it.
“Thank you, your grace,” Your sister smiled, “I do hope to make you happy one day.”
You nearly gagged at your sister’s gushing. But you didn’t have time before Thomas was reaching for your hand as well, “Princess (Y/N), you look lovely this morning.”
You simply nodded, finding the whole affair quite ridiculous, “I’m not the one you should be flattering,” You said quickly, pulling your hand away from him, turning to your mother whose face was red with fury at your comment, “May I be excused please?” You asked, tugging once more at our hem.
“Yes, please go,” Your mother gritted, before turning to Queen Nicola, “I apologize, your grace, she’s quite disturbed, I’m afraid.”
Nicola just chuckled, “It’s quite alright, dear,” she smiled, “children will be free, there’s not much you can do about that. Let’s go inside shall we, perhaps have a cup of tea?”
“Of course,” Your mother nodded. You scurried off before you could hear anymore, racing to your room to change back into your under dressings, a tattered pair of pants, and a raggedy top that belonged to the baker’s son.
“It was awful!” You exclaimed to James, the baker’s boy, “they were so, so—”
“You complain a whole awful lot,” James laughed at your rambling.
“How could I not? It was torture,” You said, digging in the dirt until your fingers finally felt the hard wood you’d buried there, “here they are!”
James knelt down beside you and began digging as well, pulling out the two wooden swords the carpenter had made for you and him.
“I told you I didn’t bury them too deep,” You smiled as you pulled one out. You stood up and shook some of the dirt off before running back to the clearing beside the castle, “now remember, don’t go easy on me. I’ll never learn if you keep babying me.”
“Forgive me for not wanting to get my head chopped off for striking royalty,” James scoffed, gripping his sword and following after you.
“You won’t get your head chopped off,” you sniggered, “they’ll just maim you. Now try to keep focused or I’ll—” You swung around the second you reached the edge of the woods and swung at James, but he was quicker and blocked you. He retaliated by swinging at your head, but you ducked.
You ran around the clearing as James chased you, laughing, you jumped and swung, with no finesse or skill. You landed a few hits on James’ arm, but he was quicker, dodging your attempts the majority of the time. In fact, he managed to bash you up pretty good, but he was holding back, you could tell. Especially when you got you in a position where he could’ve ended it, instead he held out his hand to help you up.
“Ugh,” You complained when James once again went too easy on you. You were on your back with him above you, holding his hand out to help you up, “That’s not how it’s supposed to go!” You protested, “You’d be dead if you showed mercy on the battlefield. I’ll never learn how to fight if you keep—”
“Forgive me, Princess,” James rolled his eyes, “but I don’t think you’ll ever step foot on a battlefield, let alone fight on one.”
“You don’t know anything,” You scoffed, taking James’ hand and letting him help you up, “you’re just a peasant boy, you don’t know anything about war.”
“Neither do you,” James countered, “you’re just a spoilt princess. I know enough to know that I’ll have to grow up and fight to defend my country one day.”
“I can fight if I want to, James,” You narrowed your eyes at him, “and I’m not just a little princess. I have more brains than you’ll ever have.”
In a fit of rage, James scowled and swung his sword, hitting you sharply upside the head, knocking you back to the ground. The pounding in your head was thunderous and the sharp ache persisted as you held your hand over your scalp.
“Ow!” You cried, curling up on the ground in a heap of tears, “You really hurt me, James!”
You began to sob loudly, drawing the attention of your sister, Thomas, and his two twin brothers as they were walking through the gardens.
James dropped his wooden sword and knelt beside you, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry, your grace, I didn’t mean to!”
Your sister came running when she saw you on the ground with a huge welt on your head, “James!” She scolded and she held you in her arms, “What have you done?”
“I-I’m sorry, your grace,” James cried, “I didn’t mean to, she was just—she was being so cruel—“
Thomas came beside James and pushed him to the ground, “So you decided to strike her?”
James backed away, but the figures of Harry and Sam blocked his escape. “No, your grace, it was only an accident,” James explained, “I’m sorry, I swear it.”
Thomas noticed the wooden swords lying forgotten on the ground. “Soldiers don’t hit girls,” He mocked, “My father always says you should never strike a lady, especially not a peasant like you.”
“Of course, your grace,” James sniffled, “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not the one you should be telling that to.”
You were still curled up in Dahlia’s arms, wiping your tears on her lace.
“I want to go to bed,” you sniffled. Dahlia nodded and tried to help you up, but her strength wouldn’t allow it.
“I can give you a piggyback,” Thomas offered, and in a haze from the blow, you simply nodded. Dahlia helped hoist you up onto Thomas’ back, and he swiftly carried you back into the castle.
James tried to follow but Harry and Sam pushed him back down, leaving him crying on the ground in fear.
You awoke to a doctor in black robes lifting your eyelids. You frowned and turned your head away from his intruding hand.
“Hm,” he pondered, “she doesn’t seem to have any permanent damage, though I suspect her head will be greatly sore tomorrow. Perhaps an easy day in bed will do the trick?”
“Of course,” Your mother nodded, stroking your hair back, “thank you, doctor.”
“My pleasure, your grace.” The man nodded with a bow, “I will return tomorrow at high noon to make sure the swelling has subsided. Good day.”
The second the doctor left your mother retracted her hand and frowned, “Sword fighting? Really?” She scoffed, disgusted, “Have you no decency?”
“Darling, let the poor girl sleep,” Your father chided, “she’s exhausted.”
“No, Henry,” Your mother snapped, “this has gone on long enough. She has to learn to be a lady or she’ll never make it in this world. I'm only trying to protect her.”
Your father wrapped his arms around your mother and kissed her head, “I’ve got to go. I have a meeting with Lord Hawthorne. Keep me updated, okay?”
Your mother nodded and sat beside your bed, “Send Dahlia and Thomas in please, I know they’re hovering outside the door.”
“Slow down, (Y/N)!” Dahlia yelled chasing after you in the woods, “you just got better! You’ll hurt yourself again!”
“I can’t slow down!” You yelled back, “I’ve got to show James my new book! I’m teaching him to read!”
“(Y/N)…” Dahlia stopped running to catch her breath, “James isn’t here anymore.”
“What do you mean?” You stopped and turned to her, “Where did he go?”
“Mother sent him and his father away from court. There’s a new court baker now.”
“But why?” You asked, “He didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I’m sorry, flower,” Dahlia said softly when she saw the tears beginning to spring in your eyes, “Mother asked what happened and Thomas was just telling the truth.”
“So it’s his fault,” you deduced, “he’s the reason James had to go.” You quickly wiped the tears in your eyes and ran back to the castle.
Thomas and his brothers were sitting in the garden rolling marbles and pebbles around on the ground.
“Mine went the farthest!” Harry yelled, jumping up and down, “I win!”
“Hardly,” Tom scoffed, “ours are actually tied—Ow!” Tom yelped when you slapped him upside the head.
“You stupid frog-looking boy!” You yelled, jumping on his back and pounding into him with your fists, “You got James sent away! You ugly toad!”
“(Y/N) stop!” Dahlia yelled, running into the garden after you. “Stop, you’re hurting him!”
“Good!” You cried, “Maybe that’ll teach him!”
“I didn’t do anything wrong!” Thomas yelled, trying to wiggle out of your grasp. “Help me, you guys!” He yelled to his brothers, who were staring at the scene in front of them wide-eyed.
They finally snapped out of it and began to pry you off of Thomas, “Get off of me!” You cried, “I hate you,” You spat at Thomas, “I hate you! I’ll never forgive you!”
Dahlia ran over to Thomas and made sure he was alright. He had a reddened cheek and a few scratches on his neck, but other than that seemed to be in good shape.
“I didn’t do anything!” He spat back at you, “Crazy shrew!”
That made you fight against his brothers harder, “You got James sent away! You ruined everything!”
“He struck you!” Thomas argued, “Peasants cannot strike members of the royal family!”
“I’ll strike you so hard your liver turns purple. I swear to it, you bastard!”
“(Y/N)!” the booming voice of your mother cried from the entrance of the garden, “what is the meaning of this?”
Harry and Sam immediately let you go, and your mother was right there after, snatching you up by your ear.
“Ow!” You cried, “It's not my fault, Mother!” You flailed in her grip, “It was him!” You pointed at Thomas as tears streamed down your hot cheeks, “it’s his fault.”
“We do not blame our guests for our misbehavior,” Your mother reprimanded, letting go of your ear and gripping your upper arm, “do you understand?”
“It is his fault!” You yelled, clawing at your mother’s arm, trying to break free, “He ruined everything! The moment he showed up, he ruined my life—”
Crack! Hot and quick like lightning your mother struck you on the cheek, “Don’t you dare say another word or it’ll be another!” She yelled at you. You immediately ceased your squirming. Dahlia gasped, but quickly held a hand over her mouth and bit her tongue when your mother narrowed her eyes at her.
“Martha!” Your mother called to the chambermaid that accompanied her to the garden, “take (Y/N) to her chambers. I think that’s enough fresh air for her today.”
Martha, a young girl, no older than sixteen, nodded and took your hand. You held the other one to your burning cheek, trying to suppress your sobs as they rose in your throat.
Your mother turned back to Dahlia and the boys and gave them the best smile she could muster, “Dahlia, dear. Why don’t you and the boys go to the stables? I’m sure Ser Edric would gladly take you riding.”
“Yes, Mother,” Dahlia said, taking Thomas’ hand and leading him and the boys away.
“I-I didn’t mean to get her in trouble,” Thomas whispered as they left the garden, “I didn’t know—” A look of complete shock was etched on his face.
“She’ll be fine,” Dahlia dismissed, “I’ll take her some pastries later. She’ll be okay.”
“She won’t forgive me, will she?” Thomas asks, watching through the window you were passing, Martha holding you close to her chest as you cried.
“No,” Dahlia agreed, “she won’t.”
You picked at the lace trimming on your baby blue satin gown. You wore it for the last day of your trip, and the heat in the carriage was causing the satin bodice to stick uncomfortably to your chest.
“We’ll be there in a moment,” Your sister said, not looking up from her book, “Mother said for me to not let you ruin your bodice.”
“Mother said—” You began to mock her, but she shut her book abruptly, cutting you off.
“Will you just give it rest this summer?” She asked with a pleading look in her eyes and strain in her tone. “I just want one nice summer—”
“How can it be nice when we’re forced to spend every summer with them?” You scoffed.
“Oh please,” Dahlia rolled her eyes, “I know you really mean him. I know for a fact that you’ve grown quite fond of Queen Nicola. I heard our mother and her gossiping about setting you up with Harry.”
“Over my dead body,” You gagged.
“Sam then?” Dahlia side-eyed you.
“Or perhaps a donkey?” You deadpanned, but it soon turned into a smile, “It doesn’t matter, Court isn’t my cup of tea, as Nikki would say.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that it isn’t for me—”
“No, I mean why would you say that?” Dahlia looked concerned, taking your hand in hers, “(Y/N), you must do your duty and marry another royal—”
“Nobody wants the second in line princess. I’m not as valuable as you. It wouldn’t be a loss.”
“It would to me.” Dahlia whispered, “You’re my flesh and blood. You’re my sister, you can’t just leave me here by myself.”
“You won’t be by yourself,” You argued, “You’ll have Thomas.”
“I don’t want him in place of you.”
You squeezed Dahlia’s hand and nodded, “Perhaps I am just talking to talk. I won’t worry you like this again.” You smiled.
Though there wasn’t an ounce of truth in that statement, yet you had to ease her fears. Dahlia’s life was going to change forever. She was going to be married, and then a queen, and someday a mother. She already had so much on her plate being the oldest, the one responsible for your lineage. Who were you to add another concern for her?
“Okay,” Dahlia smiled back, though she may not have been fully convinced, “I love you.”
“I love you too,” You said, before looking outside the window of the carriage, “now shush, we’ll be arriving soon and you know how Mother prefers us seen and not heard.”
The summers in England were usually spent sipping tea with Nicola, though you often referred to her as Nikki. Your father went on hunting trips with King Dominic and the other Lords, such as Lord Osterfield and Lord Barrett.
Dahlia and Thomas rarely talked if you were being honest. Your mother always tried to push them more together, but they usually just sat in silence and read their own respected books. Dahlia knew she would most likely not marry for love, but she also hoped that love would come along the way. So far that hope has been crushed.
This summer, your mother and Nikki did drop a few hints about you being paired with Harry or Sam, but you just shrugged it off. It was reckless to give such little thought to your future in court, but if you had things your way, which you intended to, you wouldn’t be forced to spend your days as a princess any longer.
“You won’t tell my dad about this will you?” Harrison, son of Lord Osterfield asked hesitantly.
“I swear I won’t,” You promised, sticking out your pinky. Harrison reluctantly took it and handed you the sword. It was a thin training sword and it resembled more of a needle than a true sword.
“This is shit,” You deadpanned, ready to hand the flimsy tool back to him.
“Woah, watch it!” Harrison scolded, “It’s still sharp. Just not as heavy. You can’t fight with a normal sword yet, you’re not strong enough—”
“Not in a bad way,” He corrected, “just as a fact. You have to build up the skill and strength first.”
“Whatever,” You grumbled, gripping the sword in your hand and positioning yourself to fight.
“Okay, so your legs are too close together,” Harrison pointed out, coming behind you and maneuvering your feet apart, “if you were heavier it wouldn’t be as much of a problem, but you’ll have to stand wider so you’ll be harder to move.”
“Okay,” You nodded, adjusting your position, “now what?”
“My father said that a good soldier is also quick and light on his feet. So many you should just try some basic moves to see how your balance is.”
You nodded and began swinging, shifting from one foot to another. Harrison observed from the side before stopping you.
“That wasn’t terrible…” He trailed off, “but it’d be easier to tell if you were going against someone.”
“Like you?’ You asked, playfully poking him in the arm.
“Ouch,” Harrison rubbed the small dot, “and no, I wouldn’t want to accidentally hurt you. I’m kind of an expert at this.” You rolled your eyes as he continued, “I’ll go get Harry or Sam. They technically are still kind of new to this.”
“Okay,” You agreed before Harrison ran off, back to the castle to track down Harry and Sam.
You sat in the patch of grass you’d been practicing in and set the sword down at your side. You laid there and waited for Harrison and the others to return and when you heard some rustle in the woods, you were surprised by how quickly they were coming back.
You smiled when you saw a body pushing through the branches, but frowned immediately when you saw who it was, “Oh,” You said, sulking in the grass, “it’s just you.”
“God,” Thomas groaned, “is no place sacred anymore?”
“Get out of here, will ya?” You ignored his comments, “I don’t feel like fighting today.”
“Really?” Thomas raised an eyebrow, “because you sure do love to pick a fight over absolutely nothing. And by the looks of the sword there, it looks like you’re ready for a fight too.”
“I mean I don’t wanna fight you,” You clarified, standing up and taking the sword in your hands, “you better be nice to me, Holland. I’m the one with the sword.”
“Please,” Thomas scoffed, “you probably don’t even know what end to use.”
“I do too!”
“Really?” Thomas questioned, before grabbing the handle from your hands and pushing you to the ground, “Wow, you’re right (Y/N), you’re such an amazing swordsman.” he said sarcastically.
“Shove off,” You spat, standing up and dusting the mud off your pants, “one day when you're happy and alone and you think you’re safe, I’ll get you back and do what I swore to do four years ago, bastard.”
Tom looked at you wide-eyed and shocked, “You can’t threaten me, I’m—”
“I just did.” You said before taking the sword back and walking off back towards the castle.
Harrison passed by you with Sam on his heels but you just handed the rinky sword back to him and stomped off with a huff.
“What’s her problem?” Sam wondered before Tom wandered out of the woods as well, “Oh, never mind, I understand now.”
“Hawthorne says there’s trouble with an uprising of peasants,” Your father said as he walked into the dining hall, holding a folded piece of parchment, “I’ll have to take a carriage back to Scotland tomorrow morning.”
“Can Hawthorne not handle it?” Your mother asked, “We’ve only just got here.”
“I’m sorry, dear, but as King, my responsibility is to the people. I must resolve this issue before it gets out of hand.”
“I can offer troops if need be,” Dominic said, raising his chalice to your father, “and I will watch over your family in your absence.”
“Thank you,” Your father nodded, “you are a true friend.”
You thought satin was terrible and sticky, but black stain, that was hell. And in the middle of summer too. Your father’s body was returned to England, along with his most trusted advisors and Lords. Your mother was too grief-stricken to make the journey back to Scotland, she didn’t want the people to see her this way.
The horrible, thick black dress dug into your shoulders and weighed you down, but it was also coupled with the morose feeling of complete dread that came with grief. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t hurt, but what were you supposed to do? Cry and hope it all went away? That’s what Dahlia and Mother did. If they were going to be the broken ones, then you had to be stronger, for them at least.
“I’m sorry for your loss, your grace,” Sam and Harry both had come up to you and said.
You shrugged them off, “It happens.” That was all you said. That was all you ever said about your father’s untimely passing. You said it to Harrison, the Lords, the Ladies, even King Dominic.
“It’s okay to be sad, little princess,” Nikki said, stroking your hair as you laid your head in her lap.
“I am sad,” You admitted, “but showing it won’t change what happened.”
“It could make you feel better.”
“I don’t think it will,” You sighed, “can we play chess now?” You asked, sitting you and changing the subject, “I think I’ve got a good strategy this time.”
Nikki looked at you with sad, kind eyes, filled with sympathy, and nodded.
Tom did his best to comfort your sister. He was her betrothed and she was hurting, so it only seemed right to be by her side in these times of need.
“I don’t even know what’s going to happen,” She wiped her tears with her baby blue handkerchief, “Who will take the throne now? I have no brothers, I have no sons, and (Y/N), she—well, it’s a fruitless hope that she’ll step up to help Scotland. She cares for our land as much as she cares for a dead rabbit.”
“She’s grieving too, I suspect,” Tom tried, but then he scoffed, “though she does seem particularly unphased.”
“She’s trying,” Dahlia defended, “she just doesn’t know what happens next and it scares her. So she ignores it.”
“She needs to let it out,” Thomas argued, “it’s no help at all if she bottles up her emotions. It’s like she’s a ghost, completely emotionless. Dull.”
You were in the garden as well, playing chess with Harrison while Sam and Harry watched on. That’s when you heard the sound of your sister crying. You wanted to go comfort her, but you were too late, Tom already had taken the space next to her.
You rolled your eyes and went back to your game. And then you heard it, the spineless comments Tom always seemed to make.
You slammed the chess piece you had down with great force, knocking some of those on the board over. Harrison tried to stop you, reaching out to grab the sleeve of your terrible black gown, but you slapped his hand away and bounded for where Tom and Dahlia were seated.
Tom saw you coming and he knew he was in for it. No tears in your eyes, just hatred. It was the way you always looked at Tom, except it seemed to be multiplied tenfold. Before he could process it you slapped him clean across the face.
Crack! Tom immediately could feel the burning in his cheek. He let go of Dahlia’s hand and held his own to his cheek.
“Don’t you dare talk about my grief!” You spat, “You know nothing, and if it weren’t for my sister’s wellbeing I’d hope the fate of my father would befall you as well. Killed by his own people. I can only pray that one day you’ll suffer such a pain as that.”
Dahlia reached out for you, probably to scold you, or hold you, or both. But you turned away too quickly, heading back to the chess game you were determined to finish.
“Hawthorne can take over as consort for now,” Dominic explained to your mother, “When Dahlia and Tom are married, while they will prioritize ruling England, we could merge the responsibility with Scotland.”
“That will probably be best,” Your mother agreed, at least until (Y/N) can marry Harry and hopefully take over. It’ll be a struggle though. Getting her there is a task I’ve always dreaded.”
“Don’t worry,” Nikki said, holding your mother’s hands, “it will all fall into place. We just need a plan for now.”
“Yes, you are right,” Your mother gave her a grateful smile, “Tom and Dahlia will be wed the summer after their eighteenth name days. (Y/N) and Harry will follow two years later, by then Tom and Dahlia should have at least one heir if the gods are good.”
“Your grace,” Lord Osterfield said, garnering the attention of the royal court, “if I may, perhaps letting Dahlia and (Y/N) spend the rest of their time here will be beneficial. Dahlia should spend more time in the land she is to rule over, and (Y/N) should spend more time with Harry.”
“As much as it pains me to leave my children, I trust you are right.” Your mother sighed, “I need to return to Scotland. Without my husband, Hawthorne can’t do it on his own.”
“Of course, we will watch over your children as if they were our own,” Nikki assured, kissing your mother on the cheek.
“Thank you, Henry was right, you are true friends.”
“You have all you need?” Harrison asked as you came to him shrouded in a black cloak.
“Yes,” You nodded, “you have the horse ready?”
“I do, your grace,” Harrison nodded.
“You don’t need to call me that anymore, though I suppose I should start calling you ‘my lord’,” you joked, situating your bags on the back of the horse.
“You’re still a princess to me, (Y/N),” Harrison smiled, helping you situate your things, “but more than that, you’re my friend.”
“You’re my friend too, Haz.” You smiled, before pulling him in for a hug, “You’ll tell Harry I’m sorry, won’t you? It’s not his fault I can’t live like this. He’ll find someone more worthy.”
“Of course,” Harrison nodded, holding you tight.
“What are you two doing?” You heard a harsh whisper that jolted you two apart.
“Tom, not now—” Harrison tried, but Tom shushed him and he quickly shut up.
“You’re running away, aren’t you?” Tom scoffed when he saw the baggage you’d put on the horse.
“Not that it’s any of your business—” You argued, but were quickly cut off.
“Not my business?” Tom nearly yelled, but Harrison shushed him, “Do you have any idea how alone this will make Dahlia feel? I’m going to be her husband, her partner, that makes what happens to her my business, this will crush her—”
“If you’re so worried about her wellbeing then go back to the castle and be with her!” You snapped, “You know as well as I that I can’t do this.”
“You’re a coward,” Tom said, gripping your arm and shaking you around, “you’d leave her to satisfy your own fucked up wants? You’re selfish. You’re disloyal.”
“I’m leaving her because I have to!” You yelled, “I love her! She is my flesh and blood, she is my sister! Don’t you dare accuse me of not loving her enough! But I won’t wither away in this court, I refused. She knows that this is what I need. She knows that and she’ll accept it in time.”
“If you knew how much this would hurt her—”
“I do know how much this will hurt her,” You admitted, “but still—she’ll survive.”
You gripped Tom’s jaw and forced him to look at you. “You be good to her,” You said sternly, “you treat her right, or I will come back, no matter how far I go, I will come back and I will destroy you.”
Tom slapped your hand away and turned to Harrison, “You will never speak of this again. As far as you’re concerned, you have no idea where the princess went.” He spoke lowly, “Understand?”
“Yes, your grace.” Harrison nodded.
Tom gave you one last forlorn look before turning and walking off. Harrison turned back to you and held out his sword, “For you,” he said, “strike hard and fast.” He instructed, “The real world is filled with terrors.”
“So is court,” You said, taking the sword in your grasp, “thank you, Harrison.”
“Where will you go?”
You pondered for a moment as you mounted your horse, “France has a lovely countryside,” You noted, “we have a chateau there currently unused. Perhaps that is where I’ll be happy.”
“I hope that is the case, your grace.” Harrison nodded.
“I do too,” You sighed, giving Harrison one last smile before kicking your foot into the horse’s side and trotting off.
The chateau in the French countryside was quaint and perfect. It was small, but had acres and acres of land, perfect for gardening, farming, and riding. The estate had been in your family for years, first belonging to your great grandfather, who used it to house his niece and her family. It was passed down generation to generation until your second cousin, Maude, lived in it with her husband. But they never bore any children and both died very young, so ever since you were a baby, the chateau had been empty and unused.
Your father still had servants that lived on and around the property, so it wasn’t as if you were entirely alone. You had a few maids and a guard, but all in all, it was just you and the blissful ignorance that came with living freely away from court.
The town just at the bottom of the hill up to the estate was also lovely. Many merchants and shops were open, always providing the best and freshest products. And that little town, that perfect little town is where you found eyes that you hadn’t realized you’d been searching for. Eye’s you hadn’t seen in years.
“Are these fresh?” You asked, pointing to the lemon tarts on the baking tray.
The baker turned around and flashed you a charming smile, “Yes, Ma’am,” he smiled, “just took them out of the oven to cool.”
“They smell divine,” You smiled, “I’ll take two please.”
“Okay, that’ll be—” The baker did a double-take after grabbing some lemon tarts and squinted his eyes at you, “have we met before?”
“I don’t believe so,” You tilted your head to the side, “I’m new in town.”
“Really? You look awfully familiar.”
“I’m not sure,” You shrugged, “maybe I just have one of those faces.”
“Perhaps.” The baker nodded, “Where are you staying? Martin’s Inn? That’s the most popular one in town.”
“No,” You shook your head, “I’m actually in the chateau on the hill,” You said, pointing to the hill in the distance.
“T-The one that belongs to the King and Queen of Scotland?” The baker asked, peering at you once more, “(Y/N)?”
“Hm?’ You snapped your attention back to him, “No, sorry, I’m sure you’re mistaken—”
“No, I’d know those eyes anywhere. Forgive me, your grace,” The baker bowed before you, “I assume you have forgotten the lowly baker’s boy you used to call ‘friend’.”
“James?” You looked at the man once more, finally realizing all the familiarities in his features. The button nose and kind, green eyes. The floppy golden hair and sun kissed cheeks. He was James, your James. “James!” You smiled, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him into a hug. “You idiot!” You scolded after pulling away, playfully slapping his arm, “no need to kneel for me anymore. And stop that ‘your grace’ foolishness.”
“What do I call you then? Your highness? M’lady?”
“(Y/N) will work just fine.” You smiled, “I haven’t seen those green eyes in so long. It’s refreshing and relieving to see a familiar face. Please, when are you free next?” You asked, taking his hands in yours, “I have room in the chateau, we can talk. I so desperately want to talk to you. I’m alone here and you know how much I love ro ramble—or complain as you so eloquently put it.”
“I’ll be done just after the sun sets,” James laughed, “is that too late?”
“No, not at all,” You shook your head, “please, come to the estate, we’ll have dinner and fine wine. And we’ll make up for lost time, okay?”
“Of course, your gra—Um, (Y/N).”
“I can’t you called the future King if England a bastard!” James’ boisterous laughter filled the room as you both drank your wine.
“I know, I know,” You giggled, “I was a bit of a spitfire.”
“You still are,” James noted, causing you to tilt your head at him curiously, “I mean leaving court? Quite the rebellious streak you have, your grace.”
“Oh shush,” You waved him off, “I had to leave. Even when I was little I knew I wouldn’t be able to live up to what was expected of me. And I've only been here a few weeks now, but this is heaven.” You said, gesturing to the estate you were on, “this is easy. I like easy.”
“Hm,” James took another sip of his wine, “I always thought you liked a challenge, if I remember correctly.”
“I like a challenge that interests me,” You corrected, “court does not interest me.”
“No, I never thought it did.” James smiled. “Not to ruin this lovely mood we've established,” he began, “but I do believe I forgot to apologize for your loss.” James, set his chalice down and took your hand, “losing your father, I know it was years ago, but that type of loss stings. I know how much you cared for him.”
“You don’t have to apologize,” You gave him a small smile, “it feels like a lifetime ago that it happened. Sometimes I try to remember his voice or what he smelled like and I can’t. It was so long ago, I don’t think it matters much anymore.”
“And your mother?”
“I haven’t seen her in years as well, though she writes frequently. Not to me anymore, since I’ve been here. But she writes to Dahlia. She’s going to England soon for the wedding.”
“Are you going to the wedding as well?”
“James,” You laughed, “I ran away, I can’t go back. Not even for her wedding. It’s not a ceremony of love anyways, it’s protocol. It’ll happen whether I’m there or not.”
“I bet she misses you though.”
“Yes, I miss her.” You admitted, “I missed you too. Years have gone by and while I may have stopped dwelling on it, I know deep in my heart that what happened to you and your father in our court was wrong.”
“(Y/N)—” James sighed but you cut him off.
“No,” You help you hand up, “you shouldn’t have been asked to leave. I should’ve stopped them.”
“I did hit you fairly hard in the head,” James tried to make light of it, “I probably deserved it.”
“You didn’t,” You promised him, “you were an angel. You didn’t deserve that and I am truly sorry. I’m even more sorry that it took me eight years to apologize.”
“Don’t worry about it,” James shrugged, “it was so long ago.”
“I do worry about it though,” You admitted, “I don’t think about it often, but when I do, it makes me sad to think about all the time we missed out on. Did you ever learn to read?”
James laughed at the question and shook his head, “I did, but I doubt I could do it as eloquently as you.”
You smiled and took his hand in yours, “I’m happy I found you again, now I can properly pay you back for hitting me upside the head,” You joked and you playfully tried to bop him upside the head. But James caught your hand before you could hit him.
“Still too slow, little princess.”
The days of summer in France were perfectly warm. The golden sun was always bright in the sky, bathing the land in its warmth. So the majority of your days were spent in light, white dress. Made from thin, breathable materials. A complete contrast to the silks and satins you used to be accustomed to. But a good contrast—a much-needed contrast.
“What is the plan today, m’love?” James asked as he came in from the garden with the fresh tomatoes. “Sword fighting? I still need you to show that one move. The one where you take the sword from your opponent? Brilliant.”
“Hm,” You pondered for a moment, “maybe after a nice ride in the meadow?” You suggested as you cut up some apples for tarts later, “there’s a nice breeze out today and I’d like to take full advantage of it before the sun comes back to burn me into the ground. Oh! And don’t forget to make these tarts. Miss Marjory is having her baby soon and I promised I’d send some to her. I’ll probably get Ida to take them, as I’m much too tired, at least, that’s the lie I’ve come up with to avoid Marjory. She’s been so crabby lately, she’s starting to remind me of my mother. Speaking of, I heard that my mother is making another trip to England soon, though I’m not sure what for. Perhaps Dahlia had an heir, though I’m sure I would’ve heard something about that as well—”
“—And it’s so strange to think that I haven’t seen her in so long, two years almost three and—wait what?” You stopped cutting the apples and looked up at James, “what’d you say?’
James came up beside you and took the knife out of your hand, “Marry me, (Y/N).”
“Why?” You squeaked out after a moment.
“Because I love you. And I’m not sure if you feel the same way, but as you were sitting here rambling, I realized that I never wanted to stop hearing your voice. I want to listen to you ramble for the rest of my life, and when you stop, I want to kiss your lips while they take a break from the incessant, beautiful rambling.”
“M’lady,” Ida, one of you maids came into the kitchen, “there is a man requesting an audience with you. He says it’s urgent.”
“R-Right, of course,” You nodded, taking off your apron and wiping your hands on it. You turned to James, “we’ll talk about this later?”
“Of course,” James agreed.
You walked to the foyer, where the entrance to the chateau was and there waiting for you was a tall man. Light blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. Friendly eyes that you knew all too well.
“Harrison,” You breathed out with a smile, before running up to hug him.
“Umpf!” Harrison grunted when your body collided with his, “Your grace, it’s an honor to see you again.”
“Stop the formalities and hug me like you mean it,” You scolded, finally feeling him squeeze back.
You pulled away and looked into his eyes, seeing the sadness that had pitted itself in them. Then you noticed it. How had you not seen it before, the all black outfit of mourning?
“What’s happened?” You asked, running a finger along the black detailing on the jacket he wore.
“It’s your sister,” Harrison spoke gently, “she’s passed, your grace.”
A/N: omg i did it! i finally did it! this took so so so long, but i had so much fun writing it, and i loved how it turned out. no poll at the end of this chapter since there is no choice to be made yet, but there will be some pretty serious choices coming up as we go along. the ages of this prologue might be confusing, so here is a little cheat sheet:
1632: (Y/N), Harry, and Sam are 8, Dahlia and Tom are 10
1636: (Y/N), Harry, and Sam are 12, Dahlia, Harrison and Tom are 14
1640: (Y/N), Harry, and Sam are 16, Dahlia, Harrison, and Tom are 18
1642: (Y/N), Harry and Sam are 18, Tom and Harrison are 20
I know they are pretty young to be going through all of this, but that’s kind of how things were at that time. you didn’t live long back then, so it was supplemented by doing things like getting married and having kids young. technically, a more realistic age of marriage would’ve been 15, but i’m following today’s standards for age of consent. sorry if there are a fuck ton of typos, i’m gonna spend the new few days rereading this and getting rid of as many typos as i can. lastly, thank you so much for your love and support, it genuinely makes me feel so good and makes writing 1000x more worth it.
✧tags & moots✧ PERM
@ptersmj @princessofguineapigs @peterbenjiparker @cherrytholland @itsapeterthing @justapurrcat @kelieah @iovebug @celestialholland @hollandcrush @scarletspideyy @blissfulparker @spidernerdsblog @spideyspeaches @andilovetowrite @sinisterspidey @hollandsdream @annathesillyfriend @lovelybarnes @white-wolf1940 @wierdteenagenerd @arvinsescape @super-not-naturall @allthisfortommy @selfcarecap @misshale21 @morganwilliams @loveaffaire @tomfknholland @pogueslandia @tomshufflepuff @aayaissaa @micaelaf05 @hallecarey1 @a-daydreamers-day @holland-styles @cloudyfeel @peni5parker @slut-for-steve-rogers @vavilip @kitkatt18-blog @kitkat2015-blog @bookfrog242 @slutforfics @wildxwidow @hollandswife @writesforholland @prancerrparkerr @petesrparker @arlo-sanders @sxuxgarplxum @peter-parkers-gf @namoreno @niallberry @iaminlovetomhollandmarvel @1-800-lov3r @bisexualdragongirl @xoxokiaraaxoxo @hollandsvogue-blog @hallecarey1 @marvelobsessed10031917 @Z3ndaya @sunflowerfive @yunho-leeknow @xxxstormyninixxx @marvelhasmyheart235 @kierstiniscrying @lowkey-holland @blahblahblah-boo @nocturnalms @happyt0exist @kpostedsum @noemiix1 @spideymix @mischieftom @sophi54 @allazay101 @spideybrina @runawaywithmyghost @rqmanoff @oxyparker @rory-cakes @parkerdarling @samaraaaaa @yuh-bitchh @freds-slut @gingerbreadgodofhyperdeath @spideymixmain @blue-4-55-readinglist @camrenrodrigoswift @brown-eyed-doe @misslady246 @tonystarksfavoritedaughter @adayasgeorgia @mn-jun @parkerflms @holland-horan @scorpiowhores @marvelxholland @hufflepuffseeker @spider-man-stiles-gubler @lost-girl24 @jjmaybanks-whore @wildholland @demirunner @tom-softie @quackquackbi @samsanchez857
✧tags & moots✧ TOM HOLLAND
@harryhollandsgirlfriend @hollandlover19 @teenwishes08 @bradtomlovesya | @worldoftom @hollandsrecs @theonly1outof-a-billion @thevelvetseries @moonchild-s-blog @ottitt @lmaotshollandd @mcu-spiderman @tomhollandlol @watermelonsponge
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Unscripted | t.h
Disclaimer: This took me sooo long to write, but t*mblr didn’t let me post this as a one-shot. Guess 36.247k words all at once are a bit too much, huh? So I decided to make a miniseries out of this. I hate that I have to do this, but I have no other choice.
And yes, I have a thing for writing titles with parenthesis/crossed out letters, but there’s a meaning to it, I promise!
Pairing: Tom Holland x actress!reader
Summary: “The situation had gotten to the point where everyone in the production had started joking about it. They would call you a couple and ask you when the wedding would take place. Sometimes you two would be chatting and someone would remind you that it was lunch break. Pretty harmless things, and you would simply laugh them off, even though, secretly, they always left you wondering where the joke ended and where the truth began.”
Warnings: English not being my first language, possible typos, self-indulgence at its finest, characters who talk a lot and probably flirt in a weird way, the holy trinity: fluff & (poorly written) smut (minors, please, DNI; also, unprotected sex, only because this is fiction and nothing bad can happen. Protect yourselves) & angst, Taylor Swift quotes, Reader is not a native English speaker: it’s addressed only a couple of times and I didn’t specify where she’s from, and it’s not even a key point in the story, so it can be easily overlooked.
“You had never left theatre, though, and this was a double-edged sword. You had been lucky enough to live your dream, while still getting to lead a private and somehow still grounded life, but your World was much smaller, much more fragile, than the one many of your colleagues – could you call them ‘colleagues’? – were well engraved in.
You were easier to break. Easier to destroy. Easier to forget.”
Part Two - Coming on 30-10-2021
“This curly-haired boy had the surprising ability to make you feel like an open book. A book he couldn’t fully comprehend yet, as he was still learning you like you learn a new language. Though at this rate, he would come to know you by heart someday. A day that you dreaded, and at the same time eagerly awaited…”
Taglist: @isory @spideyspeaches @onewithnomightypowers @wildxwidow @harryhollandsgirlfriend @omegadumb42069 @thisisparadisemylove @tom-softie @jeyramarie @mn-jun @enilemes
(Let me know if you wanna be added or removed)
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Summer of Love Masterlist
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Hey guys! I had so much fun doing the summer of love that I think I want to make it a yearly event! Because of this I’ve decided to make the event it’s own masterlist! Of course the fics will still be listed on my regular masterlist too, but this is a special section for anyone who wants to read through them all or is just trying to get into a summer or mood or whatever really. Idk I just wanted to make it so here it is. Love you guys so much! Thank you for all the support with this event, love you xx
🖤 = angst
💖 = fluff
✨ = Summer 2021
Making it Worse 💖✨ - (rich kid au!)
The AC goes out, Tom thinks he can fix it himself
Let’s Give It a Shot 💖🖤✨ - (lifeguard au!)
Tom show’s you exactly why you love him so much
Penguins and Popsicles 💖✨
You and Tom spend the day at the fair
Twister with a Twist 💖✨
Tom wants to play Twister, but he doesn't play fair
Drive Thru Wedding 💖🖤✨
You had a drive thru wedding with your best friend
On the Run 💖✨ - (college au!)
You and Peter run from the cops
Trouble Tanning 💖✨ - (college au!)
You’re trying to tan, Peter can’t keep his hands to himself
Extra Crispy 💖✨ - (camp counselor au!)
Peter takes care of your sunburn
Water Balloon War 💖✨ - (camp counselor au!)
You and Arvin prepping for the camp water balloon fight
Pool Games 💖✨
You and Harrison have fun at the pool together
Message in a Bottle 💖✨ - (summer school au!)
You tutor Harrison
Come and Get Me 💖✨
You make Harrison put in a little work for his birthday present
Not Going Anywhere 💖🖤✨- (surfer au!)
Harrison gets a little jealous of your new friend
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Tom x fem! reader where when it comes to arguments or yelling reader kinda shuts down (like her emotions just aren’t there and she’s kidna like a shell) due to a toxic relationship maybe with her parents or an ex it’s like her defense to not get hurt. So her and Tom get in a stupid fight and maybe he yells at her and that triggers the defense and Toms trying to snap her out of it and it just ends in fluff
“God, I’m so fucking sick of this Y/N!” Tom yells, running his hands through his hair in frustration. You furrow your eyebrows in disbelief. “Then just fucking leave Tom!” You shout out then stop to calm down, “Fucking go already, s’not like I’m dying to have you here all the damn time”. Tom’s facial expressions drop at your words, eyes looking at you for any sign of anger on you face.
Maybe you were just mad? Just blurting things out because you were angry? But your face said otherwise. Tom’s heart ached when he searched your eyes for regret, only to be met with a stone cold glare. “What?” Tom asks quietly, waiting for you to apologize or take it back. Breaking the eye contact between you two, you unclench your jaw and immediately switch your act.
It’s what you were used to. When you were younger and you’d fight with your parents, you learned to shut off you emotions fight after fight. Until it was an automatic reaction, almost as if any type of yelling triggered it. However, Tom didn’t know that and this was his first time to see you look so heartless, to see you look at him like he was nothing to you.
“If you wanna go, then go Tom. Dunno what you’re waiting for me to do about it” You speak in monotone, pressing play on the movie you were watching. Tom stands there, baffled at the sight in front of him. There was no way you just turned on a fucking movie in the middle of an arguement.
Tom clenches his jaw before angrily walking over to you and snatching the TV remote out of your grasp, turning off the movie. “What do you want now, God” You groan, turning to look at your boyfriend. The bewildered expression on his face doesn’t fall for a second. “What are you doing?” He let’s out, voice sounding hurt.
You don’t let it hurt you, your wall already built too high to be broken down by his tone. “Trying to watch a movie but apparently that’s not going to happen” You smart mouth but Tom wasn’t having it. “No, I mean what are you trying to do here? Are you trying to shut me out? What the hell are you doing to me right now?” Tom mumbles angrily.
No response. You huff, crossing your legs over each other before slouching on the couch, as if you were bored. What did he want from you now? “Darling, I-I don’t understand. Talk to me, why aren’t you talking to me? C’mon, let’s fix this, that’s what we do. We fight and we make up, my love.” Tom almost pleads and your eyes meet his, a look of confusion displayed on your face.
“We did talk. I told you to leave since you didn’t want to deal with this anymore. Don’t say shit you don’t mean next time if you actually wanted us to talk” You spit. “Why are you acting like this?” “Like what Tom” He shakes his head and you cross your arms against your chest.
“Stop calling me Tom! Stop acting like you don’t care!” His fist slams down against the couch and you raise your eyebrows, “I don’t care”. “Yes you do! Yes— you do, Y/N. I love you and you love me, and this isn’t how you act when you love someone. You don’t pretend not to not give two shits, you’re supposed to care and you’re supposed to be able to be vulnerable and not put this wall you’re putting up between us.” Tom almost pleads.
You look away and try to tune him out, knowing that if you listened you would break down the wall you put up. He lightly grabs your face, turning you to face and make eye contact with him. Your eyes fill with tears as you try not to let his words affect you. “Y/N?” Tom calls out weakly, the lump in his throat causing him to clear his throat.
A tear leaves your eye by accident and you try to lift your hand and wipe it, but Tom grips it. He leans in and kisses over your tear before kissing your temple, then forehead. Then he leans his forehead against yours and you know you’re close to breaking. “I know you care, and that’s okay. You shouldn’t try to hide that from me, its me, you never have to hide anything from me” He speaks softly.
And you snap out of it, blinking once then all your tears fall freely as you let out a choked sob, wrapping your arms around Tom to hide your face in his neck and just let yourself cry. Your body shakes in his arms as it pains him to see you like this. What had happened that made you like this? Made you this upset? You couldn’t believe how you upset you made Tom, how the look of hurt on his face was caused by you, by how heartless you tried to act.
“Darling” Tom murmurs into your hair, rubbing your back softly to try and calm you down. “I’m sorry, I’m so sor-sorry” You hiccup against him, Tom only holding you closer to him at the sound of your broken voice. “Just breathe love, okay? Can you calm down f’me? Please?” He soothes, and your breaths slow. Tom pulls your face away from him, wiping your tears softly.
You sniffle as Tom seats you in his lap, wrapping your legs around him. “I’m sorry” you almost whisper, not finding the strength to higher your voice. Tom shakes his head as if to say there’s no need, but there was. “It-It’s just that ever since my parents were getting divorced, I’ve learnt to- I, I don’t know, switch my feelings off during a fight? So I don’t get hurt I guess.” This was the best explanation you could give as you spoke so quietly, almost embarrassed.
Your eyes couldn’t meet Tom’s, looking down at your thumbs fiddling with each other. “Darling, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I got so angry over nothing. I didn’t know but that doesn’t justify it, I shouldn’t have yelled at you.” Tom says, voice as quiet as yours. His thumb rubs your cheek and you look up, making eye contact.
“But you have to understand that I would never hurt you, A’right? You don’t ever need to shut yourself down with me, I promise you.” You nod and Tom smiles lightly, automatically making you cheer up, which he took notice of. “Thank you Tommy” You mumbles against his chest, your cheek resting against him.
Tom leans down to press a kiss to your forehead, squeezing your waist lightly. It warmed your heart how much he cared. Of course it would be hard for you to stop a habit you’ve developed over the years but Tom made it easy. You knew how much he loved you and how much he cared for you, so slowly you realized that you feel safe around him, unlike your childhood. You can be you with him.
You reach your head up and Tom looks down to meet your gaze. Your hand goes to cup his cheek and pull him closer to you, until you connect your lips slowly. It was a gentle kiss. Almost a reminder that your love for one another will always be there to get each of you through the worst of times. And that’s exactly what Tom helped you to do.
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Request: How about something where somehow Tom ends up following the reader on IG or something bc he sees her commenting on his posts and they start DMing and become friends (and have a crush on one another) from talking.
Then eventually they end up meeting bc the reader has a graduation, or one picks the other up from the airport, or one turns up for the other’s surprise bday party or something, and it’s v fluffy and cute and a friends/crush to lovers situation.
hiiiii. you've literally inspired a three-part series. i couldn't help myself!
talk to you later | tom holland x reader (part 1)
pairing: tom holland x reader (social media x real life)
warnings: swearing I guess? not much else
@y/f/n: @y/n this is the course I was telling you about
↳ @y/n: I mean I’m looking at something but it ain’t the golf course sis
@tomholland2013 liked your comment!
Your eyes go wide as the notification pops up on your screen.
“What the fuck?” you whisper to yourself in a stunned laugh, and as if on cue your phone pings again and it’s your best friend.
main hoe <3: am i having an aneurysm, or did TOM HOLLAND just like your comment?
you: you’re not having an aneurysm
main hoe <3: wtf?! do you know him or smth?
you: you seriously think i wouldn’t tell you if i knew fucking tom holland?
main hoe <3: fair enough ye
you: it’s probably nothing. I mean I am hilarious after all, could just be that
main hoe <3: yeah you’re a bloody hoot
main hoe <3: okay lemme try smth
@y/f/n: @y/n look at him 😍
You chuckle, realising what she’s trying, and type a reply to her comment.
@y/f/n: @y/n look at him 😍
↳ @y/n: him?! sis look at that DOG 😍
You roll your eyes, knowing she’s being crazy, but after a few moments, your phone buzzes again.
@tomholland2013 liked your comment!
main hoe <3: WTFFFFFFF
you: this is some ‘you’ shit
main hoe <3: you know you’re secretly loving it
You let out a laugh, and as you’re typing a reply, another banner appears on the top of your screen, and you press on it, heart skipping a beat.
@y/f/n: look at him 😍
↳ @y/n: him?! sis nevermind him, look at that DOG 😍
↳ @tomholland2013: usually this would offend me but I see your point
main hoe <3: YOOOOO
you: what the hell is going on omg
main hoe <3: you should dm him
you: yeah right xD
main hoe <3: I’m not kidding! I mean why not?! Worst he can do is ghost you
main hoe <3: you’re used to that anyway
you: I hate you
Your thumbs hover over your screen, not sure what to write to him. After a moment, you gather every shred of courage you have, before clicking on his DM button.
You watch as the seen button appears at the bottom of the picture pretty quickly, and before you know it–
. . .typing
“What the fuck,” you say in disbelief to yourself.
@tomholland2013: hey!! 😆
@tomholland2013: I actually really didn’t like that show
@y/n: omg he’s so obsessed with her, so romantic!!! 😍what do you mean mass murderer? 🙈 💘😍😍
@y/n: just yikes
@tomholland2013: tom by the way
@y/n: yeah dude, i KNOW
@y/n: seriously, what you doing liking random comments? My best friend is literally having a stroke about it
@tomholland2013.: yikes, hope she gets through it
@tomholland2013.: I can’t like comments I think are funny? 😉
@y/n: free country I suppose
@tomholland2013: and what country would that be?
@y/n: aren’t you slick
@y/n: land of hope and glory and all that
@tomholland2013: knew it
@tomholland2013: your sense of humor is way too dry for an American
@y/n: I’m choosing to take that as a compliment
@tomholland2013: I’d say it is
@tomholland2013: okay so I told you who I am
@y/n: lmao you didn’t have to tell me
@tomholland2013: you going to do me the pleasure?
@y/n: my name is literally my username.
@tomholland2013: you’re really making me work for it huh?
@y/n: you gotta learn somehow
@y/n: I gotta say, it feels very elite to be texting your verified blue tick rn
@tomholland2013: is that all I am to you
@tomholland2013: a blue tick?
@y/n: no! don’t be ridiculous
@y/n : it’s your money and fame as well
@y/n: (I’m joking of course)
@tomholland2013: (I’m aware)
@tomholland2013: well, y/n, it was very nice to meet you
@tomholland2013: sadly I’m being called back to my life of verified blue ticks, money and fame
@y/n: enjoy selling your soul to our inherently capitalist society 🙃
@tomholland2013: I shall
@tomholland2013 followed @y/n.
@y/f/n: sis 🍑
@y/f/n: drop your squat routine
↳ @tomholland2013: fr tho
@tomholland2013: also you hypocrite pffft cApItaLiSt SoCiEty
↳ @y/n: leave me alone
↳ @y/n: I’ll sell my soul if I want to
↳ @tomholland2013: what about your dignity
@y/n: this dragging is UNNECESSARY
@y/n: that’s an evil laugh if I ever heard one
@y/n: don’t you have better things to do than stalk my Instagram
@tomholland2013: I’m on my lunch break
@y/n: then go eat your lunch
@tomholland2013: but I’m enjoying this so much more
@y/n: you sadist
@tomholland2013: *incredibly handsome and charming sadist
@y/n: a lunch break from what?
@tomholland2013: if I told you I’d have to kill you
@y/n: it’s spiderman: far from home, isn’t it?
@tomholland2013:. . . .no
@tomholland2013: I am exiting this conversation
@tomholland2013: it’s incriminating
@y/n: enjoy your lunch break
@tomholland2013: hey! Sorry I haven’t texted, been crushed by work.
@y/n: excuses, excuses
@tomholland2013: they’re not!
@y/n: I have been crippled by your absence, kind sir, for I am nothing but a vessel devoid of thoughts and emotion and destined to the servitude of men
@tomholland2013: I’m going to take a wild guess that you’re an English major
@y/n: not such a wild guess
@tomholland2013: I’m practically a detective
@tomholland2013: where do you study?
@tomholland2013: okay now I feel like a vessel devoid of thoughts
You let out a snicker at your phone, trying to muffle it best you can in the near-silent library, and your best friend gives you a look.
“What are you smiling at?” she whispers under her breath, and you try your best at a nonchalant shrug.
“Nothing,” you tell her unconvincingly, “Just a meme,”
“Liar,” she tuts, and before you can react, she’s leaned over your shoulder and her eyes scan down your phone screen. The gasp she lets out echoes through the entire library.
“Are you texting Tom Holland?” she all but shrieks, and your eyes go wide as you shush.
“Jesus, will you keep your voice down?” you hiss at her, “Shriek it to the entire library, why don’t you?”
Her eyes are wide as she regards you. “Is this a thing? Are you texting him?”
“I don’t know. . . maybe?” you tell her with a shrug, she lets out another squeal, which earns her a sharp shush from the girls sitting cross from you.
“Oh sure, as if we haven’t all been listening to your insufferable sniffling for the past hour,” your friend snaps at her, and she purses her lips, before turning back to her laptop.
“So, what?” she whispers, “Is it flirting?”
You shrug again. “I don’t really know? I’m just letting it take its course,”
“I can’t believe you’re being so calm about this,” she says, shaking her head, and you smirk.
“Honestly me either, but it’ll probably last what? Like a month? Then he’ll forgot about my common ass and we can all move on,”
“It’s already been a month since the first reaction,” your friend hums unconvincingly, “You do remember we have that party tonight, right? Or have you been too busy texting your celebrity?”
“He’s not my celebrity,” you correct her, “And yes, I do remember,”
You turn back down to your screen.
@tomholland2013: do you like it?
@y/n: sure, it’s a good study
@y/n: people are seriously pretentious
@y/n: like no, I don’t want to hear about ernest hemingway over my beer at the pub, John
@y/n: I’d ask what you do for a living but I’m pretty sure it’s established.
@tomholland2013: wrong. I’m secretly a carpenter.
@tomholland2013: it was actually almost my job
@y/n: shut up no it wasn’t
@tomholland2013: honest to god!
@tomholland2013: My mum sent me to carpentry school when she thought acting wasn’t going well
@tomholland2013: proud to say I can build a whole table
@y/n: a man of very many talents
@y/n: my talents sadly only include correcting people and beer pong
@tomholland2013: how very non-british of you
@y/n: I know, I’m a special child
@y/n: right, I’m going to get back to good old ernest
@tomholland2013: good luck!
@y/n:. . . this is straight up murder in the first degree
↳ @y/n: who gave you the RIGHT
↳ @tomholland2013: stop making me blush
@tomfan1: lmao who is this ^
↳ @y/n: love of his life. we’re eloping.
↳ @tomholland2013: 100%. wifey for lifey.
@tomholland2013: what’re you still doing up? @tomholland2013: Isn’t it like 4AM?
@y/n: I was out
@tomholland2013: nice time?
@y/n: not exactly
@y/n: had to endure the wonderful sight of my ex-boyfriend sticking his tongue down melanie jackson’s throat
@tomholland2013: who’s melanie Jackson
@y/n: not familiar with the girl code, apparently
@tomholland2013: that can’t have been nice, I’m sorry
@y/n: it’s alright
@y/n: decimating him at beer pong softened the blow
@y/n: you cannot be saying things like that to my drunk ass
@tomholland2013: someone feeling a little flustered?
@y/n: I’m pleading the fifth
@y/n: and going to sleep
@tomholland2013: sweet dreams x
a/n: let me know if ya’ll want me to start a tag list for this!
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Tom x fem! reader where when it comes to arguments or yelling reader kinda shuts down (like her emotions just aren’t there and she’s kidna like a shell) due to a toxic relationship maybe with her parents or an ex it’s like her defense to not get hurt. So her and Tom get in a stupid fight and maybe he yells at her and that triggers the defense and Toms trying to snap her out of it and it just ends in fluff
a/n: i hope you like it, i don't know if this is exactly what you wanted but i just hope you like it <3
warnings: angst (yelling, bad memories from the past, swear words) fluff at the end
it all started when you came back home from your date, everything was going fine until Tom started getting those texts and calls. When you asked him to answer them he just said "It's not that important, love" you just nodded but you knew something was wrong, Tom was never a person to ghost someone.
That also didn't mean that you thought he was cheating on you, you knew he never would. Even though you still wanted to know what's going on.
So when you got you asked him "Who was calling you at the restaurant?". "No one" he mumbled putting his keys on the table, You didn't react you just took of your heals and went to your bedroom.
The next few days, he knew something was off about you, and you knew he knew, but you didn't know what to tell him you couldn't just tell him "I am sad because you didn't tell me who you were talking to?" you were never that type of person in your relationship and the same went for Tom.
While you were eating lunch a couple of days later Tom snapped "What is wrong y/n?" he suddenly asked looking directly at your eyes "Nothing just a bit tired" you answered quietly moving the spoon on your dish "No something is wrong and I want to know what is it" he said "You've been for since we came back from the restaurant and I want to know what happened? Is it something I did? Please tell me." he begged you and you looked at his eyes, they were filled with sadness and concern, you immediately looked away.
"It's something I did right" he sighed "No Tom it's not something you did" you finally said getting up and putting your dish in the dishwasher. "Then what is it?" he asked pleading for an answer.
You sighed, finally giving up after he kept asking the same question and waiting for that answer "Remember those texts and calls you kept getting" you said slowly not wanting to see his reaction, you knew he's gonna be sad and really upset about it.
"Really" he chuckled to himself "You're sad because of some fucking calls I was getting" his voice started to raise. You stepped backwards taken aback by what he said.
"You're are too emotional" your dad said when you cried, and he was yelling at your sister.
"A FUCKING CALL" He yelled, your eyes widened and you took a deep breath "YOU WANT TO KNOW WHO WAS CALLING ME IT WAS MY FUCKING MANGER BECAUSE HE SAID THAT THEY WANT TO SHOOT THAT FILM EARLIER AND I SAID NO BECAUSE I WANTED TO SPEND TIME WITH YOU AND YOU ARE NOW SAD BECAUSE OF THAT"
"STOP DO NOT CRY" your father yelled at your face, you were sniffing, your body was shaking you wanted to stop but you couldn't. He kept yelling at you to stop tell he pushed you out of the door and shut it at your face.
Your face was blank, it showed no emotion, you just stared at him, not knowing what to do or say, a part of you wanted to cry but at the same time, you couldn't, it felt like there're no tears left in your eye.
Tom was breathing heavily, realizing what he just did fuck he thought, you told him about your father and what used to happen at your childhood, but at that moment when he snapped at you, he forgot, everything.
"Y/N I am sorry I am so sorry" he said his eyes started to tear up, he pulled you into a hug but you didn't hug back. "I am so fucking sorry I was mad and I didn't know what I was doing I know sorry isn't enough for what I just did but please forgive me, I want to spend time with you and that call was stressing me out and when you brought it up I just took my frustration out on you." He said tears streaming down his cheeks.
You slowly brought your hands up and stroked his cheeks "It's ok I am sorry for bringing it up I shouldn't have asked" you said "No it's your right to ask I am sorry for snapping like that I know I shouldn't have done it" . You smiled softly at him and collided your lips together he kissed you back tightening his arms around your waist, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled away.
"I am sorry" tom said "Stop apologizing or I swear I will kill you"
Want to be tagged in my future work?
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inspiration — tom holland
pairing: tom holland x (singer, female) reader
summary: your latest album hints to your fans about a lover
requested: no, send me tom holland requests!
note: acquaintances to lovers. this is kind of short.
“thank you, new york! tonight was my last concert for my debut album, and i’m going to miss touring like this.” you let out a breath, sweat already evident on your forehead from performing.
the crowd ‘awed’ and you were no longer bothered by the flashlights that they held to film you.
“don’t worry everyone, i’ll be back soon.” you winked to the crowd before bowing slightly, then walked off the stage while waving.
heading backstage, you couldn’t help but run to lay down on the couch in the green room. “tour is really over.” you said to yourself, not believing that the three month journey had ended.
“(y/n)! there you are!” you slightly lifted your head up to see who entered the room. it was katie, your manager.
she walked inside and handed you a water bottle, which you thankfully took to drink. katie still had a headset on her head, which she used to ‘answer business calls quickly’.
“great job out there, your tour is finally over! what do you plan on doing after this?”
you froze, putting the bottle down by your lap. you haven’t thought about that.
“maybe i’ll write another album.” you shrugged your shoulders. “i still need to find an inspiration. i want this next album to be meaningful.”
katie nodded slightly, then her phone received a call. she immediately answered, “hello? this is katie. who’s calling?”
katie covered her microphone and whispered to you, “i have the driver ready for you outside to head home.”
“thank you.” you answered while leaving the room for katie to take the important call. as you walked outside, katie’s words really hit you.
you needed to find an inspiration.
“and the award for this year’s ‘top new artist’ is, (y/n) (y/l/n)!”
you couldn’t believe what you just heard. you stood up, and taylor hugged you.
“(y/n)! congratulations. i knew you would win this!” taylor cheered on while pulling away from the hug, “now go and get that award!”
there were big cheers coming from behind you as you walked up the stairs.
“here you go.” the announcer handed over your trophy, and you couldn’t believe it.
the man handed you a microphone to say a small speech, so you accepted.
“hello.” the crowd had gone quiet and the focus was on you.
“i still cannot believe i’ve won this award. so thank you for giving this to me, billboard.” you chuckled and rose the trophy.
“i would love to thank my fans, especially the ones who were there since when i first started my career. i want to thank my parents, my manager katie, taylor, selena, and all my staff.”
you smiled, “mom, i made it!”
the crowd laughed and applauded so you headed backstage. you couldn’t believe all that hard work was paying off.
you were actually going to announce an award so you had to go backstage anyways.
a woman approached you, “(y/n), you can leave your trophy with me because you have to host an award in five minutes.”
you nodded and handed her the award, before following her to where the announcers walk out.
“your partner will be tom holland.” she quickly mentioned and your eyebrows rose.
“tom holland?” you repeated in question.
“that would be me.” a voice said. you looked next to you and saw tom holland—the tom holland— dressed in a black suit. he smiled at you and offered to shake hands.
“uh, hello. i’m (y/n), (y/n) (y/l/n).” you introduced yourself while shaking his hand. as he let go, he chuckled.
“(y/n), do you think i don’t know you? you’re so famous! i’m actually a big fan of yours.” your eyes widened. tom holland is your fan?
“you’re lying. i’m your biggest fan. i went to the spider-man premiere and watched the movie so many times.”
tom smiled, the two of you standing in front of the door. he was technically your celebrity crush, but you couldn’t tell him that.
“are you going to the after-party? i would love to buy you a drink later.”
you slowly nodded your head, trying to hide the smile that was about to form, “yes, i am going. i’ll look for you there, then.”
right on time, the woman came back to tell the two of you that it was time to walk out.
“guess it’s show time. let’s go, darling.”
“(y/n)! welcome back to the tonight show starring jimmy fallon!” a round of applause came as you took a seat in the comfortable couch.
“thanks for having me, jimmy!” you straightened up and smiled.
“so (y/n), by the time this airs your new album is releasing. can you tell us anything about it?”
you carefully thought of what you should say to the public. there were definitely going to be headlines tomorrow.
“my new album is called ‘lover’, and it’s mostly about romance.”
jimmy kept reading off his cards, “interesting. your last album wasn’t about romance. is there a reason why you chose that topic?” he paused before reading, “maybe a lover?”
your lips formed a thin line, unsure of what to say.
“maybe? i would just like to say that i’ve found my inspiration for the album. but the lyrics are very meaningful for someone.”
jimmy’s eyebrows rose. “can i have a guess in your inspiration?”
the crowd grew loud, wanting to know who the rising pop star’s possible lover could be.
“jimmy! don’t expose me!” you whined, and jimmy just laughed.
“okay, because i love (y/n), i won’t be asking anymore. let’s move on,” the crowd booed jimmy and you knew that his producers would be mad at him later on. still, you thanked him silently for not pressing on the topic so you wouldn’t expose your relationship.
your lover was obviously tom—but the two of you didn’t want to go public yet.
you think tom didn’t mind being public or not, and you didn’t too. but it didn’t feel right to reveal your relationship without him.
jimmy continued the interview by asking more questions about your career.
“i better be mailed vip tickets to your next tour.”
“hey babe, what’s up?” you answered you phone while writing a new song. you finished the interview last night and headed straight to your studio because taylor wanted your opinion for her song.
“i was your inspiration for your album?”
you rolled your eyes playfully, “that’s why you called me? not because you wanted to hangout with your girlfriend?”
you were joking, and you could feel tom smiling from the other line.
“yes, you were my inspiration.” you checked the time and it was almost 1 in the afternoon.
“now please come visit me. i miss you.” you crossed out some parts of the lyrics that you didn’t like, and wrote an alternative.
“of course, darling. i’ll be at your studio in twenty. i love you.”
“i love you too, tom.”
written on october 22, 2021
link to my tom holland masterlist
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The Stolen Moments: Chapter 4 - My City Girl
A/N - I do not know Tom or Jake, nor do I claim to: this is a work of fiction. Series masterlist. 9.7k words.
Warnings - talk of absentee parent and homelessness, Tom being a professional himbo, allusions to violence, possibly unhealthy father/daughter relationship? dad's home when they have sex, smut: oral (f rec), protected penetrative sex. 18+
Summary - With your date going swell, you can anticipate what's about to happen next, and it's high time you make those stolen moments become something more, with some small detours along the way that show Tom who you really are.
Programming the restaurant address into her phone, one earbud in to listen to every instruction, she thinks as she walks, her mind wandering away. Part of her focus is set on not twisting her ankle, though, so she’s only half in her head.
It’s safe to say every talk show for the past 20 years has been a trial and tribulation in itself, with weeks worth of basic rehearsals, yet he always somehow manages to go off the rails. He tends to just act like a crackhead, because that way she never gets brought up, despite the fact he’s always thinking about her. Now she’s older and she can go into chat shows with him, it’s becoming even more of a risk. Just thinking of the last time he did an interview and was insistently whispering, “I’ve got sourdough baking!”, that very thing being code for “I have a sleep deprived teenage daughter!” gives Y/N insane anxiety. Being front row in the Graham Norton show when her dad and Tom went on was interesting, too, because he kept looking at her whenever the camera wasn’t on him, widening his eyes by a fraction just to check she was ok at every possible chance. When he told the sickness story, she was taken right back to the days she spent sitting on the cold tiled floor, handing her dad water and antiemetics that never stayed down. Despite that unfortunate temporary ordeal, sailing around Europe and the US with her dad and then going around the world with him on press, it was a dream come true. Tom being there was just a bonus. He kissed her in every city they stopped at, documenting each kiss with a polaroid. At least this’ll be a good talking point for them if she remembers to raise it, to see if he still has those polaroids, if he ever gets them out at night and thinks about her, feeling that empty hole in her chest as he misses her with his whole being.
It was unfortunate for Y/N, when Jake was making The Devil All the Time, because every day that she was on set, it was Tom’s day off, or he was sick, or he had a stand in for back shots where his face wasn’t needed. She understood, she listened, she watched her dad at work doing everything incredible that he did even when he was producing rather than acting. A genius, she’s always seen her dad to be, and she thought that there was no one better to bring his vision to life in that film than Tom. Maybe it was a ploy on her dad's part, a desperate attempt to keep them apart just to save himself so that two relationships aren’t destroyed by two angsty youngsters trying to get together on his watch. He’s always been good, so kind when they were together, when Tom shamelessly flirts with her, that he doubts it’s the case. But it’s a real possibility, and maybe Tom will never make a proper move on her for fear that Jake will break it up. Her mouth dries up at the thought alone.
She just hopes that she doesn’t forget how to work her mouth when around Tom, having only seen him on screen for the past eighteen months. But now, she doesn’t have time to worry, because with converse on his feet, cigarette fit suit trousers and a matching blazer, and a coloured shirt—unbuttoned at the collar—is Tom, rocking on the balls of his feet as he looks all around, his eyes unable to focus on one thing or another while he waits, nervously rubbing the back of his neck.
He startles to attention, practically jumping towards her on the sidewalk.
“H— hey,” he stammers. “Y— you look… bloody hell you look gorgeous.”
“Thanks, you do too.”
He tries to fight off a smile, but with the way his cheek twitches and his eyes nervously avert her poring gaze, he fails. It’s something cute about him, endearing, the way he can switch between his Spider-Man confidence and his Peter anxieties in a split second, like he truly was born for the role. Offering his arm, he prompts her to take it, and she’s led inside.
It’s the sort of place she thought he’d go for, a sleek interior, classy while still remaining hip, mood lighting with an additional golden-white glow from generous offerings of candles, invading the place with a delicate scent of herbs and ginger in compliment of the pasta and pizza smell from deep in the restaurant. Sleek black tables with glistening silver cutlery, grand black couches lining two walls, cushioned chairs sitting across from them on the glossy wooden floor, giving it that homely look. She’s not sure whether the staple piece of the room is the intricate, rustic stone fireplace, or the windows as tall as the ceiling, detailed with swirls and rounded off with delicate drapings of net curtains, billowing. The bar is what sold Tom, though, she’s convinced. A dark wood u-shaped bar with a shiny top and dozens of dark brown leather stools surrounding it with more bottles of alcohol than the eye can see or the brain can comprehend.
“Reservation for two? Dutch?”
She swallows a chuckle, “You used Dutch instead of Holland?”
“Yeah,” he shrugs, wriggling his wry eyebrows, “valuable lesson I picked up, always use a fake name that’s so obvious they’ll never bother to think it’s fake.”
“Whatever you say,” she responds, only to realise that’s exactly what her entire life has been, under a phony fake name that no one will search behind because it’s just too obvious.
“Just over here Sir, Miss,” the waitress says, leading the two of them through to a secluded area at the back of the restaurant, handing them two menus.
“Anything to drink? Wine? Cocktail? If I recall, you did like margaritas quite a lot.”
His thin lips quirk into a smirk as a burning flush claws its way up her cheeks and heats them. That was definitely not her finest moment: Jake, Tom and Jacob practically carrying her through the hotel and into her room.
“There’s alcohol in these?!” she’d exclaimed half way through the night, unsure whether it was hilarious, confusing, or just plain awful. That decision was swiftly made for her when her head was over a toilet bowl ten minutes later. The only time she’s ever touched alcohol, the only time she ever plans to for the rest of her life. It’s where she learnt the tips for a hangover. What worse than learning those from one’s father?
“God, I can’t believe you brought that up,” she murmurs, covering her face with her hands, the heat just radiating from her, “but I’m fine with a coke, thanks, I can’t drink over here.”
“Oh shit you can’t, can you? I hadn’t thought of that, I forget you’re so young.”
“Twenty isn’t young,” she protests, thinning her eyes, scowling playfully.
“Hmm, younger than Harry? Young.”
“Cheeky swine. Still older than the other one.”
He laughs, the sweet sound she got so used to hearing, the one that not even a week ago brought that special light back into her life. If he’d let her record his laugh and set it as her alarm, she’d never get tired of waking up. Dead giveaway to Jake, though. Ok, no more thinking about her dad, she resolves. It’ll make the whole night go a whole lot smoother if she’s not fretting that he’s safe and well, because of course he is.
Tom goes to fetch the drinks, ordering them from the bar, leaning his forearms on the table as he waits. His bum looks incredible, so peachy and toned, she’s seriously fighting an impulse with clenched fists to stop her from going up and grabbing his ass. Luckily for her reputation and sanity, he returns a moment later, and hands her the cold beverage that she instantly sips at.
“How did you come about this place?”
“Oh, Jake recommended it to me.”
Possibly the fastest she’s ever failed a resolution, but there we go.
“I went to see him yesterday, did you know he has a daughter?”
“Haha, nooo, that’s crazy…” she trails off, her palms suddenly clammy. “It’s nice that you saw him, though.”
“He’s such a nice guy, I haven’t seen him since Devil. And he was proper good to you when we were out there filming. I thought you were d—”
“Don’t finish that sentence,” she warns, holding her hand outstretched, then laying it on top of his to ease the blow. “What did you do together?”
“I told him I was going on a date, he didn’t give me advice because I’m probably more successful at love than he is, and we watched a game. Oh, and we talked a lot about filming. Have you seen him recently? Or anyone?”
“No, I haven’t funnily enough, but that’s nice for you.”
He can tell her smile is forced, that’s why he’s drinking his beer so quickly. Already off to a bad start. Thankfully, in no time at all that somehow feels like hours, the waiter arrives and takes their orders, offering them some more talking ground.
“Remember that massive pizza we ordered in Venice?”
“Oh, my God yes! It was enormous.”
“I still don’t know how we managed to eat it all,” he chortles.
“How you ate it all. You lads didn’t let Zendaya or I get a bite in edgeways.”
“Hey, we were doing action shots, we needed the starch.”
“You’re just a man,” she replies, a coaxing joy twinkling in her eye. “I grew up with a single dad and his many friends, I know the difference.”
His eyes grow wide, apparently he’s forgotten that tidbit of information, or less probably, she forgot to mention it, and the most important piece of information about her entire life slipped her mind. Or Jake told her not to mention it as to not give much away, and her boarding school tales took natural precedence over the course of their time spent together.
“I never knew that, what’s it like?”
She shrugs nonchalantly, “Dirty. He never cleans, never does his laundry, never washes up. I mean just last night, he came in late, drunk, and I ended up cleaning God knows how old cups from his room, and clothes. Other than that, it’s great. I love my dad to pieces. He’d kill you, though.”
Tom’s already pale face (he clearly hasn’t been spending the past few months in sunny Italy the way he did when they were together) blanches a shade further. “W— why?”
“He doesn’t really like me dating, he usually likes to meet guys before the first date but I put him off this time, I think he’d rather have me be convicted of murder rather than know I’ve ever done what we were up to those months.”
He giggles. The man genuinely giggles. He sits there, his lips pressed together as the most delightful, playful sound floats in the air around them.
“He can’t talk, he’s had ten girlfriends in the past twenty years. Can’t blame him, single dad, had me the age I am now.”
He exhales steadily, gripping the edge of the table. “Bloody hell. You must be close then, no wonder you’re single.”
Despite how harshly his words could’ve been conveyed, he has a humorous tone, and she throws a fraction of bread at him, bouncing it straight back to her from his purely magnificent biceps.
“In all fairness he did nearly kill my only ex-boyfriend, as you do.”
She doesn’t talk about this, ever. It was just a lawsuit waiting to happen, that only didn’t happen because he realised just how weedy he’d look in court compared to Jake and his army of Harvard-grad lawyers when it could be argued as self defense, or defense of someone else. It involved a vehicle as well, it could easily have been a slip up with the handbrake. He was dangerous, so anything that happened to him would've been basically excusable, considering all evidence would’ve been made inadmissible by Y/N’s meddling to protect her dad. The terrifying thing is that, when she thinks about it, Jake could have a lot of lawsuits if he wasn’t so rich and powerful…
“No mum on the scene, then?” he asks, veering from the obvious subject and discussion of, well, murder. He’s not awkward about it all, not any more awkward than he usually is, which is probably a good thing.
“No, there never has been, but I’ve never wanted one. As you know I did the whole boarding school thing, so mom issues were dealt with there, but he saw me almost every weekend, he was both parents for me.”
“You say he’s young?”
“Yeah, he got her pregnant when he was nineteen.”
“Her? She doesn’t have a name?”
“No, her name isn’t on the birth certificate, and dad never speaks of her.”
“How does that work?”
She decided she didn’t want me too late to get an abortion, Y/N thinks with little disdain and even less sadness, she wanted to put me up for adoption, saying she was too young to cope with me. It’s the reality, her mother didn’t want her, and she was raised by a single father. She was older than Jake though, she had her life sorted, he was just trying to wade through life working while at Ivy League college, he was just a kid. But he wanted Y/N. So he got a notary and lawyers when she didn’t believe he’d take care of her. As soon as she signed those papers, she denied any care, like a surrogate really, and dad got full custody. She wasn’t allowed to search for Y/N until her eighteenth, and if she tried, Y/N neither knows nor cares. She was in Europe with them, filming. She never wanted to find her mother because she never needed a mom, not when she had the world's best dad who's done everything for her his whole life. He was a single parent while gaining a bachelor's degree and earning eighty million dollars through his own grit and hard work. That’s how good a dad he is, and even through that, she was always put first.
“It just… was. My dad had his lawyers deal with it all. Why would I want a parent who didn’t want me? Dad always did and always has, we never even fight. I’m always his priority, which I wouldn’t have been if I had a mom,” she explains, keeping the smile painted on her face.
“He sounds incredible. I’d love to meet him one day,” Tom says, but he actually means it.
“That can be arranged.”
Their food arrives then, heaped plates of pasta with parmesan cheese on top of the tomato and basil sauce. Tom’s pretty eyes go as round as saucers, practically salivating at the sight of it, while Y/N fears she might not actually finish what’s on her plate, not because she’s not hungry, but because she’d much rather be eating something else instead. The thought alone makes her blush, reaching for her glass to cool down for a minute; Tom is already eating, moaning at the food. Rightfully so, it’s damn delicious, and not all that messy, she thanks herself for choosing the right dish.
“Tell me about work. I’d love to hear more.”
She's really glad she asked as well, seeing the way his face lights up, a piece of pasta hanging out the side of his mouth like he’s a labrador. His eyes sparkle, and he speaks whenever his mouth isn’t full, running her through every upcoming project and what he’s just tied up on, even talking about his latest release like it’s his lifeline. Whether he breathes or just inhales whatever air he can while he eats, she’s not sure, but she’s surprised he’s still conscious when he’s done. His joy is contagious, and she finds herself drawn back into his constellation, not wanting to ever leave if he talks so animatedly all the time, so passionately. He’s doing what he was born to do and he’s so happy about it. Then again, actors are children who never grow up. Y/N just isn’t sure she wants to spend her adult life with someone like that. After having it her whole childhood, she knows the way things go. She inherited a lot from her father, his crackhead energy, his kindness, his good looks, but thankfully, she got some brains from somewhere, enough to know not to go headfirst into something if it’s not an attainable or sustainable circumstance. With actors, well...
“I saw that film, your most recent one. I thought you were excellent in it.”
“Y— you did?” he asks, his inflection offering a tone of surprise, cocking his head to the side. “Thank you.”
“No worries, you’re a brilliant actor though, so I wasn’t surprised.”
He looks like a bloody tomato, his cheeks giving off as much heat as his remaining pasta. Thanks to this, conversation flows freely for the rest of their main (which Y/N finishes slowly, too caught up in his words to pay attention to her meal, though it was delicious), and through just eating the chunks of bread and butter they were left, a shared heaped chocolatey dessert (which Tom ate most of), and two more rounds of drinks. Not once do they stall again, or feel the awkwardness. The ice was broken by their memories—the polaroids included, and their activities have scarcely been mentioned, and never with any regret. This is the best first date of Y/N’s life, and she doesn’t want it to be over just yet, but the restaurant is closing soon. A twenty minute walk back to her flat if she walks slowly, longer if she takes him the long way and further avoids his (albeit unlikely) surmising of the whole ordeal, so she makes a proposition.
“I’d love to go clubbing or whatever it is people do after dates, but I can’t. ID issues—”
He cuts in, his brows furrowed, “You’ve never been clubbing? Or on a date?”
“Only in Europe, and no. My ex never did anything nice like this.”
“Baby, that’s so cute and precious.”
The way he calls her ‘baby’ sets the fireworks off in her mind and the blood rushing around in her veins, the butterflies beating rapidly in her stomach. It’s giddiness, desire, appreciation, all rolled into one.
“You can come to mine for a coffee or something? I would say we can walk around the Park but it’s too far. O—only if you want to…”
“Your dad won’t be in?” Tom asks with a smirk. “He sounds scary.”
She chuckles, “No, I doubt it anyway. He goes out most weekend nights, or at least he has since I’ve been legally old enough for him not to worry. And he said he had plans to go out tonight sans the drink so that I could have fun.”
“Forgive me for asking, but why does he go out so much?”
“He's rich and young. Of course he goes out, I manage his life to ensure he gets downtime like that.”
“You manage his life?” Ah, so apparently that’s the conclusion he’s jumping straight to. “Y/N, dude, that’s weird.”
“We’re open with each other, I’m like his Harry: he wouldn’t get to work without me,” she says, a slight edge to her words. This is why she didn’t want to talk about her dad. Not tonight, not for a long time with Tom. “There’s no point about him lying to me. And besides, I’m not stupid.”
“If it works for you, love, then that’s great”
“It does, Tom. He’s the best dad anyone could wish for. He’s so accepting.”
“Let’s hope he’s accepting if he finds me drinking coffee in your house then.”
Her eyes light up, instantly straightening her neck. “You’re coming?”
“Yeah, I’d really like to.”
Y/N finds herself speechless for the first time in a long while, just smiling at him, giggling as she sips her drink through the crazy straw he fetched for her on a whim. He keeps talking, nattering her ear off, about his family and his dog and his friends and his work and all of the little anecdotes that bear no similarities to what he’s on about, and she just listens gratefully to his gorgeous, gruff voice, her eye focussed on his strong jawline that cenches between words, and the dark welcoming depths of his lively eyes, all until the waiter comes and hands the the cheque.
“I’ve got it,” he says, ferreting for his wallet in his blazer strung on the back of the chair, and then patting at his gorgeously toned thighs.
“I’ll get my half of the bill,” she replies, plucking her own wallet from her jacket pocket. “It’s only fair.”
“No, I asked you out, it’s my treat.” He has the audacity to actually wink, flexing his delectable veiny biceps as he plucks the cash from his wallet. “And hey, I get the first date, we can split the second. With your dad's approval.”
“Thank you, babe.”
“You don’t sound American,” Tom observes as they walk out of the restaurant. “Where are you from?”
The thing is, she’s very American, or rather a New Yorker, born and raised right there in the city, having it all as her home turf, the boroughs her playground, taking her first trip to Central Park merely days old. Every New York theatre show her dad’s ever done, she’s been front row on opening night and to a handful of other performances, both in the audience and in the wings. He took her to her first Broadway musical when she was five, and readily took her to whatever was on and had tickets available. It was his main financial throwaway, the main thing he indulged in for her. The tourist attractions she’d all seen by the time she was ten, she’d lived in Manhattan and out of it all the time, gone to elementary and middle school right there in the city, too. She thinks she sounds American, a slight New York twinge to her accent, but it has been muted by the elocution lessons she received while living away.
“Must be boarding school, I’m city born ‘n’ raised.”
“Really? No you’re not, I could swear you’re like Spanish or British.”
She chuckles warmly, looking at him in the street lights, pulling his blazer on around his tight fitted shirt.
“I was here until I was eleven, and every holiday, even the odd semester, but the rest of the time I was in Europe for school.” She sidles up a little closer to him, sidestepping on the sidewalk, “if anything, it’s Swedish. That’s the family, that’s where school was. But home has always been New York. I can tell you the steps from here to the Park, to the MET, to the statue, to the bridge, to the best late night kebab joint, the best weed dealer.”
“Oh, my dad smokes sometimes. Well...”
“You really are a New York kid,” Tom returns thoughtfully, “I think I’ll have to stay around a little longer, it seems there’s a lot to learn about my city girl.”
My City Girl. The way he says it causes her heart to flutter, drying up her mouth. And to make the moment better, or perhaps worse since it shuts off her entire brain from sensical response, he brushes his knuckles over hers. It’s the touch she’s been desiring for months, ever since their final kiss. It lights her on fire and makes her feel alive, desiring more, so much more. But, so as to not ruin it too soon, she lets it go, and just scrapes her fingers over his a little more. He continues the contact while they walk, his fingertips scraping over her leg or her pulsepoint (sneaky, though whether he can actually take a pulse, she’s not hopeful) or her rings, always just that fraction away from taking her hand in his. A cohorted route it is that they take, a long one, and she briefly wonders in their moments of silence whether Jake is ok, and where he is, but Tom’s steady presence beside her brings her back to the moment. She’s on a date with a handsome, talented, bloody gorgeous British actor, and nothing can stop that or dampen her mood (or foil her attempt to get some) except maybe—
“You got a dollar, ma’am?” a deep voice growls, followed by the whines of a dog, a big one at that, and it proves to be an alsatian as the street lamp sheds light.
Y/N feels her heart physically break in two. The poor thing looks so thin, so cold, and that’s just the dog. She knows her life is, and always has been, almost perfect. Raised with more money than she could ever spend, a brilliant education, a wonderful, loving and supportive family with amazing people at every turn, and the world's best dad. Her most valuable lesson through it all, though? Give back. That’s why her heart aches so deeply to see this poor homeless man on the street, and it’s like Tom isn’t there anymore, it’s just her and this man she feels a need in her bones to help. Not everyone has so much.
She tells Tom to wait, and asks him to hold out his hands, placing everything into them that was in her jacket as she removes that, and plucks her wallet out.
“Sir?” He looks up at her thoughtfully, piercing grey eyes within an untrimmed beard, his jaw dropping as he feels her press a note into his hand—a $20—and a small card. “Get yourself and your dog something warm to eat and drink, and then go to the address on the card, it’s only two blocks over. It’s a safe place, more than a shelter, and they’ll take your dog too. Tell them Y/N sent you.”
She wraps her jacket around the dear, shivering dog, and feels it’s trembling alleviate, even just slightly, at the contact, at the warmth.
The man's eyes are welling with tears as he reaches for her hand, claiming it in his spindly fingers, clad in holey gloves. “Thank you, Ma’am, thank you so much. God bless you always.”
“Sir,” she says, her voice strong, “there’s no need to thank me. Just get yourself safe and warm and fed. Okay?”
“Okay.” He nods.
Unbeknownst to her, while she’s fussing the dog and offering him some of the many treats she keeps in her pockets, Tom is standing there completely awed by her kindness. This is just another way in which she’s completely, entirely perfect. When at last she leaves, Tom sheds his own blazer almost instantly and slips it over her shoulders, her belongings already settled in the pockets, she can feel them.
“That’s such a kind thing to do, w— why did you do it?”
She shrugs, smiling at him, her face having gained a new glow from helping someone. “Dad always taught me to give back, no one deserves to live on the street, and not many people have as much as we do, so we set up a home for them, and I try to help every homeless person that I see.”
She’s right in calling it a home, but it’s more than a shelter. It’s a centre, a halfway house, a careers forum, a school, a place for people to heal, owned by herself and her dad under her fake name. A three storey house, kitchens and bedrooms and a gym and a garden. Last year, they went to a wedding of two people they once helped who met there. They have good rehab connections there for anyone struggling with substance abuse or mental health issues, health insurance, a green space for the dogs to play in, adult skills teachers from colleges who volunteer their time teaching them to not only get their GEDs if they weren’t previously attained, but to cook and wait and clean and drive: jobs like cater waiters, doormen, chauffeurs and maids never go amiss when living in the Big Apple. They give no interest loans, as well, for people to get their own place and get on their feet. During one of the first years, they had a musician stay who became a rather successful music teacher. They harness and nurture the skills everyone has or had before, and just try to help people get back on their feet after a rough patch, not asking for anything in return. They’ve been running it for 4 years now. It’s the greatest achievement of Y/N’s life to help people in such a way, even if it is her dad's endless bank accounts that fund the whole thing.
“Dad grew up privileged, he was born into essentially endless money. But more than this, he was born into a good ethos. Every Saturday they went to Synagogue, every Sunday it was Church. They did charity work growing up, they lived normal lives, and dad carried that on with me. He knows people don’t have much, that’s why we decided to help people in even just a small way, and it feels good to give back.”
“You get even more incredible with every passing second,” he breathes.
He says it like it’s as plain as day, the simplest and most blatant fact in the universe, and he savours—probably more than he should—the way she darts her tongue out to wet her lips. It takes him back, is all, to their seemingly endless days together, where he could see her and appreciate her smile and her lips every minute of every day, only for those months to be snatched so harshly from underneath him before he could tell her just how much their stolen moments meant to him. So, feeling courage in his heart, he takes her hand completely in his, knotting his fingers around hers, rubbing his thumb wherever he can reach on her knuckles, and he squeezes her palm tightly, possessively. The touch sends sparks shooting up her spine like fireworks, the touch to complete her, to seal the deal, confirm that he does care about her and he did care about their time together, so many things unsaid, that they thought were best left unspoken, being conveyed through a simple yet oh so meaningful touch. Holding hands feels so final, so romantic. Yeah, she could get used to this.
Tom is gazing up at the street signs, “Are we still in TriBeCa?”
“Yeah,” she responds, knitting her brows as she looks at him, too focussed on him to worry about the placements of her feet or the possibility of snapping an ankle. “I live in TriBeCa so you made a good choice with the restaurant.”
“Did you meet Jake here? Is that how he got you to be his PA?”
“Something like that,” she replies vaguely, squeezing his hand tighter. The velvet of the night sky looks stunning, so dark and inky, splattered with shiny drops of silver. The moon is almost full, offering them ample light over the undulating tops of the buildings, going on as far as the eye can see. “Thank you for tonight.”
“No, thank you, Y/N; you reminded me how special you are and how much fun we had on set.”
He swings his shoulder around, pulling her up to stand in front of him, at arm's length, their fingers still entwined.
“We did have lots of fun, didn’t we?”
“Would you like a refresher to remind you just how much fun?” he husks, taking a single stride closer to her, his chest against hers.
Her breathing becomes laboured, her pulse increasing, her pupils dilating: his body has the same reaction.
Needing no more prompting, he brings his other hand up to cup her jaw, tilting her head up to the right angle for him to slant his mouth over hers hotly, his lips offering the barest pressure when, at long last, they kiss. He tastes of pasta and beer and that something untraceable that always distinguished him to be Tom, something woody. It’s so familiar, the desired surge and rush of his touch returning to her in spurts, the gentle jab of his tongue at her lower lip, requesting an entrance she’s only too happy to grant. His tongue caresses hers, a silent demand for more, kissing her like his life depends on it. And frankly, she thinks it might. Knotting her fists in his shirt, she draws him closer, and feels it as his chest rumbles when he groans softly, low in his throat, bring his arms to circle around her, gathering her small, needy frame against him, tangling his limbs around her small self, his lips still fused to hers, moving fervently.
It makes her think of that passage, one of her favourite books, the one her dad endlessly read to her when she was little, so much that she knows it off by heart, and now can quote the moment that this book becomes her, a fitting way to seal what’s going on between them: ‘He knew that when he kissed this girl, and forever wed his unutterable visions to her perishable breath, his mind would never romp again like the mind of God. So he waited, listening for a moment longer to the tuning fork that had been struck upon a star. Then he kissed her. At his lips’ touch she blossomed like a flower and the incarnation was complete.’
With his strength surrounding her, his taste intoxicating her, she feels the swell of helplessness, a need to yield, the gushing tide of warmth that turns her legs to jell-o. Anything surrounding her, the buildings and the trees, the sidewalk and the pedestrians have all blurred to nothing, inconsequential. All she can feel, smell, taste is him. All she knows is him. His mouth is as familiar to search as any she’s ever known. It's like their tongues have fallen madly in love before they’ve even been able to get their heads around the concept, a binding agreement.
He devours her, his grip around her bruising, on her waist and her hips, his hands skimming her waist. She clings to him in the moonlight as his intensity increases, a burning passion, his insistent mouth sending tremors throughout her whole being, evoking sensations deep within the burning embers at the pit of her core that she’d never known she was capable of before. Y/N and Tom, there, in the streets of New York, melding together as one. The swimming giddiness that becomes her just serves to fuel her more, pressing herself up onto her tip toes as she goes for the buttons on his shirt, far too tight to aid her in any way. His grip moves down past her hips and settles at the top of her bum, his fingertips digging into the soft flesh.
“S— stop,” she mumbles against his lips, releasing her hold on him, “Not here. We’re only a block away.”
“Are you sure?”
“Mhm, and I know a shortcut.”
Now she’s high on him, her inhibitions dissipated, she’s letting the New York twang fade back into her accent, pulling at her words. She snatches his hand back up, and picks up her pace, all but dragging him through the streets and around the corners until she reaches her place. She can’t get the key in the lock fast enough, just jamming it around as Tom stands over her, his body shadowing hers.
“You’re cute when you’re flustered.”
He pushes her body up against the door, fanning his warm breath over her ear and her neck, stunting her movements even more. Eventually, she pushes the door open, and it swings open behind her, almost toppling inside, only for his arm to loop around her and save her, slamming her up against the nearest wall. Something falls off a sideboard on the way through, and she even knocks something off the wall, her shoulder blade turning the light on, only for her to hurriedly switch it off. Arms pinned above her head, he brings his mouth down onto hers.
“Tom,” she moans breathlessly.
“You’ll be screaming it later.”
As soon as he hears the door start to open, Jake hurries himself and the dogs back into his room from his run to get a cup of chai and some chips from the kitchen. He’s got everything he needs in there, a new show downloaded onto his DVR, his favourite book on his bedside table, and… lots of dirty laundry. Maybe he’ll have the chance to tidy all of that away while he’s stuck in here. Hopefully, this bloke has only come over for coffee, and he’ll be able to sit up with his daughter to ask her how her night has been, only as soon as he sees the flicker of a light in the hallway and hears a mighty crash followed by a fit of giggles, he knows he’s not so lucky. Instead, he withdraws his headphones, plugs them into his phone, and blares Mumford & Sons as loud as it’ll go, hoping that the words from there mingling with those in the pages of To Kill a Mockingbird will drown out the outside world.
He’d at least expected a text along the lines of: The date went really well, I’m coming back to the house w him. Hope you’re having fun dad, let me know when you’ll be home x
Because that’s what happened with her last boyfriend. He doesn’t blame her, of course: she thinks he’s out partying with his mates. He just needed to be more prepared for this day. One day, maybe, when she’s a little older, graduated, stable, he’ll introduce her to T
om and he’ll let her gravitate to him the way she did those months away. He’s gotta let Tom grow up a hell of a lot first though, before he lets her be hurt by his lad antics. Jake at 18 is Tom at 24, and never will Y/N be hurt by it. He’ll turn out well, one day, and Jake can’t think of a better potential future boyfriend for his little girl.
As soon as they’re in the bedroom, Tom begins to peel her dress off, deftly pulling the zip down and running the rough pads of his fingers down her spine in the dress's wake. Sparks electrify every inch of her, rising goosebumps of the most pleasurable kind on her tender skin.
“Is this okay?” he mumbles against her neck, sucking the sensitive flesh there, marking her. She groans out as he moves his place, and sucks another particularly nasty hickey just beneath her ear.
“Y— yes, more,” she pleads, barely able to gather her own thoughts.
Tom, the gentleman that he is, picks her up with one arm, holding her up by his grip on her ass alone, and wades his way through the darkness to the bed, whereupon he drops her, and begins to trail his kisses down her exposed cleavage now. She flicks on the light, and lets her hands then drift to his hair, raking through and grasping at the chestnut locks. Her attention is, however, drawn away from Tom’s ministrations at the sight of her room. When she left it was quite a state, with clothes and makeup everywhere, but Jake’s gone around and cleaned everything, putting away all of her dresses in the closet, and he made her bed, perhaps changed the sheets even, judging by the softness and lack of wrinkles on the comforter beneath them.
He pulls her dress entirely off, followed by her shoes, and begins to lace kisses up the inside of her calves, trailing his fingers up her body until he reaches the warmth at the apex of her legs. In preparation, she’s already discarded her panties: forward, he likes it. He licks his fingers wet and moves them just to where she wants them, needs them the most, where she’s been thinking about him touching her for days, just a featherlight touch on her nether lips. His Adam's apple bobs, his eyes fused on her, burning her with an intensity that their encounters before have never held. As much as she’s enjoying the contact that makes her whimper, tantalising caresses, stroking her silky cavern, stretching her, it’s just not enough.
“Baby,” she whines, her voice laden with lust, “Tommy, I need you now.”
“Wait, darling, I’ve gotta do something first,” he insists, a mischievous glimmer in his dark chocolate eyes, “the second we... I’ll finish.”
“No way dude. I’ve been waiting years for the main event, I’m not waiting a second longer.”
His shoulders shake in soundless laughter, and then, as though her words dared him, he licks a bold stripe, causing her words to die in her suddenly dry throat. Maybe she can wait a little longer. He always was incredibly good with his tongue, letting her sit on his face for half an hour at a time, if ever they could steal such a moment… or somewhere large enough for them to get into such a position.
In all fairness, Tom can’t wait either. He’s been desperate for this as long as she has, and he doesn’t want any time to pass before the main event, so he’ll make this quick. Deep plunges of his fingers bring her back around, his eyes fixed on hers despite his filthy actions on her core. He watches in amazement, every toss of her head as she writhes around, every kitten lick to her sensitive pearl pushing her closer and closer to bliss.
“Please, fuck,” she begs, her mind in a frenzy.
Her hand flies down to his head, gripping his hair, tugging, pressing his face deeper and deeper into her heat.
“So sexy,” he drawls, and delves straight back in.
Fingers and tongue working in tandem, she continues to tug on his hair, her legs wrapping around his head. It takes a single coax more and one harsh lick for her to come undone, spilling her essence into Tom’s mouth. Eagerly, he laps it up, and comes up for air with his thin lips glistening as he smirks devilishly at her.
“Condom, top drawer.”
He doesn’t wait around, instantly slamming the drawer open and feeling around for a foil packet while Y/N frantically unbuttons the rest of his shirt and his trousers, shucking them down his legs along with his boxers, taking her length in his hand, almost drooling at the weight of it before she’s even seen him. Is it possible for him to have gotten bigger during their time apart?
She breathes heavily, gazing up at him all doe-eyed.
“Baby, don’t look at me that way, you know I can’t have you looking all innocent when I’m wrecking your pretty pussy.”
His words raise a moan in her throat that won’t make it past, she won’t let it, it’s far too obscene to allow it out into the open air, and it only seems to build while watching Tom roll the condom on, stroking himself once, twice, holding her cheek with his other hand. Instinctively, her legs open wider in response.
“Are you sure you want this?”
“Yes,” she consents, nodding fervently, “please. Do you?”
She shifts up the bed, her eyes imploring, her arms welcoming, prompting him to sheath himself within her all the while keeping her close. Contact is what she desires, his touch, his whole being surrounding her. He breathes in her gasp, swallowing it as he enters her, causing her core to shake, but he's all too glad to be encased in her quivering warmth, smiling into the kiss while he keeps himself steady, holding himself above her. Even when he begins to move, she’s so lost in his eyes, in the beautiful grunts that escape his lips, parted just above hers. That is until his thrusts pair with hers in imperfect harmony, and he brushes that spot inside her that crumbles any remaining resolve, just driving her to find one thing.
“So pretty baby,” he exhales, keeping his movements as even as he can, his curls falling into his eyeline.
His thrusts are harsh, passionate, and yet so filled with love and purpose: pleasure. She finds herself brushing a lock of hair away from his face as her chest moves with the force of his body on hers, drawing him in for another kiss, tender despite their moment of lust. Limbs woven together in a tangle, waves of pleasure ebbing and flowing around them in an ever constant current, basking in the worldly pleasures only they can provide each other. Her moans are a stark contrast to his curses, but they all boil down to the same thing. Bliss just on the horizon, verging on the edge, she claws at his back, lifting herself from the mattress, clutching to him like he’s her only hope.
“There, Tommy,” she pleads like a prayer.
He rolls his hips and ensures his cock hits deep within her just that same way until she’s crying out his name, release washing over her, and him not a moment later, holding her close. Pressed together, moonlight dappling their sweaty skin, their chests rise and fall together, and only then does she realise she still has her bra on.
Mustering all of her remaining energy, she quips, “Scared of bra hooks are we, Spider-Man?”
He chuckles softly, lathering kisses on her exposed collarbones. “You could say that. Bathroom?”
“Down the hall, to the left.”
He plants his lips on hers for a final kiss before exiting. She watches his butt and his thighs clench while he pulls on his boxers, and how he tries not to make much noise, prancing down the hallway as silently as he can, even though she’s already told him her dad isn’t in.
She’s gone directly against her dad's few ground rules for her, the first time she’s ever dared do such a thing. She feels so dirty, so disrespectful. He lets her do whatever she likes, essentially, and she couldn’t even do one thing for him like abstain from sleeping with a playboy for one night? What an awful daughter she feels.
Sheltering her face with her hands, she groans into the pillow, and plucks a new pair of underwear from her drawer, tugging them up her legs, cautioning herself as she stands. Two glasses of water from the kitchen, she brings them back and puts them on her bed stand, following Tom into the bathroom once he’s done. She thinks perhaps brushing her teeth will help her feel better, cleaner, but it doesn’t help all that much. She doesn’t regret Tom, of course not, she’s completely besotted with him and if he got down on one knee tonight, she’d unequivocally, recklessly scream yes with all her might. And besides, the sex was mind-blowing, causing all of those little fireworks and constellations to erupt behind her eyelids as he pleasured her. But that’s not the point.
“Hey sweetheart, are you okay? Was I too rough?”
“No, Tom, you were great,” she responds, a half smile playing on her lips, “I’m just tired.”
“Ok, well, I can go if you want—”
“No,” she hastens, pressing a hand to his exquisitely firm bicep, his skin warm and slightly clammy, “stay.”
Why, she’s not sure, that is until he wraps his arms around her and draws her small frame into his larger one beneath the sheets, cradling her, holding her, supporting her head with his beefy shoulder, curling around her waist with his veiny arms.
“Thank you.” She kisses his lips tenderly.
“Anytime, my city girl; you’ll have to let me take you out more often.”
Tom falls asleep shortly after this, soft snores escaping his lips while his grip on her remains strong. Y/N, however, doesn't have such an easy time. Tom’s heartbeat steady beneath her ear, her head buried in his bare chest, it’s a sweet solace, as is his steady breathing, and the faint twitches of his fingertips sparking her skin every so often. When he strains, she can see the veins protruding in his neck the way they did when he was above her not so long ago. It’s comfortable to lie here with him, comforting, and she feels safe, like the world can’t hurt her here.
Only her own mind can.
Breakups are the topic that come to mind strangely, and even more bizarrely, the first thought she has is that she hopes she’ll never go through another. Sure, most people think that, but to have such a profound realisation while curled up with a guy? That doesn’t happen every day. Tom can’t be her endgame, no matter how much she’d love for him to be. Even so, she feels that, should she break up with the man holding her tightly, right here in her bed, ensuring her everlasting protection, it’ll hurt a hell of a lot more than the last break up she had, and yet it was also her first. Tom will break her heart, she knows this, he has the full power to do such a thing. He owns her heart, he has since the day their eyes met, which is why she doesn’t think she’ll just be able to let him go.
Her first breakup, even though she didn’t love the guy, was a significantly dark period of her life, and she spent a solid week just curled up in her dad's king sized bed, eating ice cream out of the tub with a giant spoon, crying into her dad's shoulder. He nursed her through it all more than willingly, said he remembered his heartbreak when his heart was first broken and then again when his girlfriend left him and didn’t even want to discuss the possibility of them sharing a baby together. Not that he told her the latter part, he never discusses her unless explicitly asked to: why should he have to? Y/N’s mother is nothing more than a surrogate. But he recounted all of his breakups briefly to her, and told her that the pain got a little less every time because he knew they weren’t the one he was waiting for, so love's cruel sting didn’t feel so bad no more.
Every one from the time she was born, most of the breakups she could remember, when he’d just go out and get pissed one night, go on a health craze for a week while letting her eat whatever she wanted with no structured meals, he’d have a good cry on day five while cuddling the dogs on the couch, and then he’d throw himself into a new role.
Y/N, however, spent the whole time listening to the ultimate breakup playlist, headed by the international breakup anthem, coincidentally written about Jake, and he just sat there and listened to it time and time again.
That was an interesting period in both of their lives. She was just starting boarding school, he was dating an international superstar singer. Of course it wasn’t going to go well.
Their relationship was essentially detailed word for word in Taylor’s song, and he wasn’t as good towards her, he surrendered, as he could’ve been. They did break up multiple times, he did say he needed space because his daughter was going through a lot (a daughter no girlfriend knew about until at least six months in—that’s why it didn’t work with many of them) and then when things were more settled, he realised he missed Taylor, so he called her up and requested they give it another shot. After that, it was pretty on and off due to turbulent times for them both, and he wasn’t strictly to blame. He picked as many fights as she did, but always let her win, let her know she was right. But she was right in the fact that he’d hide away to find his ‘peace of mind’. Meaning he’d hop on a plane to pay his daughter a visit, and they’d listen to a new song one of his friends had released, with no animosity towards Taylor. As she was writing the song, he wanted to apologise, explain, make things right—even just as friends—but she wouldn’t have any of it, and proceeded to write the anthem (not that he blamed her one bit, he conceded pretty early on that he was a huge dick) despite the fact that he actually did love her, he had grown to love her dearly, and was about to tell her about Y/N. Then the song came out.
He had to get Taylor over to explain, to just give her some way of understanding the situation: Even though the song was overly dramatized (as songs have to be) it was taking it to the extreme…
So he threatened her with a lawyer.
Not his finest moment, and Y/N did advise him against it. He also didn’t even research if what he was claiming, ‘unrightful exposition’, was even a real thing. Nonetheless, she agreed to come over for coffee, and was met with a twelve year old Y/N at the door.
“I’m sorry dear, I must have the wrong flat. Do you know where Jake lives?”
“Oh no, he lives here Miss Swift, you’re just in time,” she said, putting on her best polite accent before she bellowed, “Dad! She’s here!” and Jake appeared.
Taylor, naturally, was instantly extremely flustered, and spent a solid minute just looking and pointing between the two, palms clammy, brows furrowed, completely and utterly bewildered. When, at last, she spoke, she merely hissed, “You have a daughter?!” As if it wasn’t evident enough.
Jake pulled his guitar out and began to play her song right back to her, only with his rebuttal woven into each line, undermining every word she’d written.
Then, Taylor Swift almost fainted on their doorstep. Once Jake finished with his parody, he helped her into the living room and got her some water, once she couldn’t string a sentence together. Not that anyone could blame her, it’s a lot to take in for anyone.
“Oh, my God. Jake, I’m so sorry.” She took a hefty gulp of water, turning her whole body to face him, sitting on the opposite sofa, his arm around Y/N, curled up and scribbling away at some homework. “I had no idea, why didn’t you tell me?”
He shrugged. “She’s a secret, hardly anyone knows and I’d like to keep it that way, she’s my little girl and her life is private, the media don’t know she exists. I only reveal her to someone if I think there’s a future, for her own protection.”
“I’m right here, dad. And twelve, not four.”
Though Jake was completely seething, he was convinced by Y/N (a very enthusiastic Swiftie) to forgive her, leading the pair to have been secret friends ever since. Taylor’s apologies were profuse, but they both knew that they’d never have been able to get the song revoked or understood without revealing far too much, so they left it at that, but Y/N and Taylor have always kept in touch too, and real Taylor helped Y/N through her first break up as well. Jake has just had to grow to accept, over the years, that his daughter is friends with his ex, though he supposes it could happen that he remains friends with one of her future exes if she ever goes out with someone like Tom.
Little does he know who she’s curled up with right now, inhaling his natural woody scent while he sleeps. She’s able to think back to it, that pained expression on Jake’s face that he was unable to hide every time she went shopping with Taylor. She’s always been there, since that reconciliation, and took Y/N under her wing, so Y/N never saw any reason why she and Jake shouldn’t get back together, because a spark was always there. But if she can see that spark, then perhaps Jake could see the spark between her and Tom those months away with their not-so-subtly stolen moments. Maybe, just maybe. And even then, what would it mean?
He didn’t seem to care when they’d have dancing competitions and land in a pile of tangled limbs on the floor of set, not dissimilar to the way they are right now, even if they’d be told off by the directors and laughed at horridiously by Harry and Jacob… and then proven that they really can’t dance by Zendaya.
Jake always encouraged Y/N to dance, to perform, to express herself through whatever artistic medium she so chose, and that led to years and years of dance lessons. All that experience, and her links to Taylor, led to her being one of Taylor’s backup dancers at the AMAs, even if her dad wasn’t too impressed by the fact, he was incredibly proud that she’d had such an experience on stage, though it only served to deepen her resolve that she didn’t want to be in the spotlight or follow in his life. Despite the rush, the sensation of being on stage that so overwhelmed her, the simply joyous thing, as soon as the dance was finished and she was backstage again, she knew that this isn’t the life she wants, no matter how much she loves to dance. But what does that mean for her and Tom? Does that mean even more of a breakup when she chooses a life away from the spotlight, away from his world? A private, secret life? Hopefully it doesn't make a difference, but one day he’ll have to find out who she is.
Maybe he’ll grow to accept it, maybe not; maybe her dad will be the problem, maybe not. Either way, as Tom turns away from her and erases his warmth despite his lingering touch caressing her skin, she just prays it all falls back into place, and her life can be as simple and blissful as their months in Europe.
26 notes · View notes
Pairing: Tom Holland x Famous!Reader
Synopsis: you call Tom out on his most jealous moments
warning: adult humor 👀
“Darling, what was the name of your high school boyfriend?” Tom asked as you walked into the room. “I think he just followed me on Twitter.”
“I’m not telling you.” You shook your head. “You get crazy jealous over things like that. I don’t need you “accidentally” tagging me on your crotch again so your followers know we’re together.”
“I don’t get jealous.” Tom snorted. “And that was a very clever accident.”
“Yes you do.” You laughed at his statement. “You get crazy jealous and you overreact.”
“When have I ever over reacted?” He playfully scoffed.
“That time with the interviewer.” You raised an eyebrow at him. Tom quieted down as he recalled exactly what you were talking about.
~that time with the interviewer~
“Nice to meet you both.” Your interviewer smiled as he sat down. “I’ll be asking you a few questions today. I’m Jonah.”
“Nice to see you mate.” Tom nodded.
“Hi Jonah.” You greeted. “Thanks for having us.”
“It’s my pleasure.” Jonahs eyes lingered on you a little too long. “Y/n, you look amazing as always.”
“Oh, thank you.” You smiled politely.
“She does, doesn’t she? I think this is my favorite outfit you’ve worn so far on the press tour.” Tom commented as he tugged on the hem on your dress.
“Aw. Thank you, honey.” You pressed your palm to his cheek and beamed at him.
“Wow. I didn’t get that reaction when I complimented you.” Jonah joked, making yours smiles fall.
“Because I don’t know you.” You said simply.
“You could get to know me, if you’d like.” Jonah shrugged, making Tom narrow his eyes at the man. You exchanged a knowing look with him before clearing your throat.
“How?” You humored him. “Do you want me to interview you? Because I think that’s your job.”
“Let me take you out to dinner.” Jonah smirked. “We can get to know each other then.”
Before you could even respond, you felt Tom’s arm wrap around the back of your chair. He sucked in a shark breath, wordlessly alerting you that he was getting annoying.
“Hahah.” You faked a laugh. “I don’t think so.”
“Oh, I get it.” Jonah rolled his eyes. “You have a boyfriend, don’t you?”
You and Tom exchanged another look before quickly looking away. You hadn’t let the world know you were together yet, and Jonah was really testing Tom’s ability to keep a secret. As much as he wanted to tell Jonah to stop flirting with his girlfriend, he couldn’t.
“No.” You lied. “I don’t.”
“Come on. You’re so pretty.” He insisted. “You must have a boyfriend.”
“I never really liked when people said that.” You smiled awkwardly. “It always felt like they were saying that having a boyfriend was some privilege that you earn if you’re considered conventionally attractive. And who knows? Maybe I don’t even like boys.”
“Thats even hotter.” Jonah winked at you.
“Woah there.” Tom narrowed his eyes at the guy. “Watch yourself.”
“Sorry.” Jonah held up his hands. “Just trying to give a compliment.”
“Why don’t you just stick to what it says on your sheet?” Tom tilted his head. “Because I was told this was an interview, but I don’t believe we’ve been asked a single question. Aren’t interviewers supposed to, you know, interview?”
“Sure.” Jonah gave Tom an annoyed glance. “So, you guys play a couple in the movies. That left a lot of fans wondering if you we’re together in real life.”
“Was that a question?” Tom mumbled. You patted his thigh to tell him to stand down and answered Jonah’s question.
“I think we like to keep that part of our lives private and separate from all of this.” You tried to keep the conversation civil. “Once you open that door, it’s impossible to close it, so we’d prefer to keep that to ourselves.”
“That makes sense. But if I was dating you, I would not keep that to myself. I’d make sure everyone in the world knew.” Jonah said without ever taking his eyes off of you.
“I bet you would, Jonah.” Tom said through a condescending smile.
“Tom.” You looked at him with a forced smile. “Down boy.”
“Seriously, if I was your boyfriend-“
“Well, you’re not.” Tom cut him off immediately and stood up. “And you’re not gonna be her interviewer either because we’re done with this conversation.”
You covered your mouth to laugh as Tom took your hand and helped you stand up. He went over to Jonah and patted his back once he knew the cameras were off.
“Try getting better at your job because right now, you’re pretty shit at it. I suggest learning how to ask actually questions instead of just making your female quests uncomfortable. Have a nice day, Jonah.” Tom said before giving Jonah a friendly wave.
“That was hardly overreacting.” Tom scoffed when he finished recalling the memory. “He was all over you. In fact, I think I under reacted.”
“Okay, fine.” You shrugged. “Then what about that time with the other interviewer?”
Tom’s face fell as the memory came flooding back to him, a memory he had chosen to suppress.
~the other time with the interviewer~
“How’s the dating scene in Hollywood?” The journalist asked you during a press junket. “Are you guys on tinder at all?”
“No.” You chuckled. “I don’t even know how it works.”
“Is that the one where you swipe right or left?” Tom asked you.
“That’s the one.” The journalist cut in. “I have it.”
“I don’t have it.” You shrugged. “But I feel like I mentally swipe right or left on people when I meet them.”
“Which way did you swipe for me?” Tom joked.
“Right, obviously.” You played along.
“What about me, Y/n? Would you swipe right on me?” The journalist asked, reminding you and Tom that he was there.
“Haha, no. That app is pretty appearance based, and you’re not my type.” You smiled to lighten the tone.
“Aw, what? I think we’d look good together.” He laughed to hide his pain. Tom folded his lips in and looked at you, the jealously he was feeling evident on his face. You gave him an apologetic smile and reached over to brush your thumb on his cheek.
“You’d look even better if you stuck to asking us questions about the movie.” Tom said through a big fake smile.
“What about the premier?” The journalist ignored Tom’s comment. “Do you need a date to that? Because I’ve been told I’m great company.”
“Hm.” Tom leaned forward and tried to look at the question sheet. “Is that question on your sheet or are you just free styling?”
“Just free styling.” The journalist cut his eyes at Tom. “I have to admit, I did geek out a little when I was told I’d be interviewing my celebrity crush.”
“Aw. You hear that Tom? He has a crush on you.” You teased Tom to try and calm the storm you knew was brewing. Tom looked at you with a tight jaw and placed his hand on your knee.
“I meant you, Y/n.” He didn’t get the joke. “Seriously, I don’t think there is anyone in this world as beautiful as you.”
“Oh, haha.” Tom faked a loud laugh. “Are you here to interview us or find a girlfriend?”
“Hopefully both.” The journalist shrugged before sending you a wink. You looked at the camera before looked over at Tom. Just as you suspected, he had finally lost it.
“Well, as she stated, you’re not her type.” Tom scrunched his nose at the guy to keep him in his lane.
“So what is your type?” The journalist asked you.
“I mean.” You chuckled and gestured to Tom. “You’re looking at him.”
“Aw.” The journalist shot daggers at Tom. “So I don’t stand a chance?”
“Do you do this in all your interviews or did you specifically chose today to be unprofessional?” Tom asked in a genuine tone. “Because I think Y/n made it pretty clear she isn’t interested. I’m just gonna have to assume you haven’t seen the signs because you don’t know how to read. That’s probably why all the questions on that quaint little sheet of yours have gone unasked. And while we’re at it-“
Tom cut himself off when he realized you were staring at him with wide eyes. The journalist looked just as baffled, but ultimately decided he needed to back off of you.
“Sorry.” Tom grimaced. “I’ll stop.”
“And I did stop.” Tom insisted as the memory ended. “I didn’t overreact that time either.”
“Don’t you remember the conversation after?” You looked at him skeptically.
~the conversation after~
“Can you believe that guy? That was so unprofessional.” Tom grumbled as you walked out of the interview.
“I know. But it’s fine.” You sighed. “It’s over and we never have to see him again.”
“He should be fired.” Tom continued. “He was supposed to be interviewing us, not flirting with you for ten minutes. What a dick.”
“Don’t get too worked up about it.” You chuckled and rubbed his arm. “We have another interview in fifteen minutes.”
“If this next journalist flirts with you, I’m gonna smite him.” Tom promised.
“Tom, you are not smiting anyone.”
“Yes I am.” He insisted. “And if I ever see that last guy again, I’m gonna smite him too. On sight. It’s gonna be an on sight smite.”
“No one is smiting anyone.”
“I have to. It has to be done.” Tom said simply. “There’s no other way.”
“I think you might be overreacting a little bit.” You giggled as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “Just a tad, though.”
“How so?” He pretended to be confused. You let out a laugh before leaning into kiss him.
“You’re cute when you’re jealous.” You mumbled against his lips.
“I’m not jealous.” He pouted.
“Hm.” You smirked. “Okay.”
“I didn’t overreact.” Tom insisted when the memory ended. “I was just defending you when that baboon of a man made you uncomfortable.”
“You threatened to smite a man, Tom.” You reminded him. “Smite.”
“And I stand by that threat.” Tom said. “And if I see him in the street, it’s on sight.”
“It’s not going to be on-“
“It’s on sight!” He shouted over you.
“Okay, fine.” You gave up. “Maybe that’s not overreacting. But do you remember what you did when we were answering questions from fans?”
“Oh no.” He knew exactly what you were referring to. “Not the Twitter handles.”
“Yes, Tom.” You nodded. “I am talking about the Twitter handles.”
~the Twitter handle incident~
“I have some questions here sent in by fans.” A journalist told you as she pulled out a list.
“Fire away.” Tom smiled.
“Oh my God.” You covered your mouth and laughed when you heard the Twitter handle. You could sense Tom tensing you beside you at the mention of your ex boyfriend.
“Sorry. That’s my ex’s name.” You said weakly. “They must still be a fan.”
“We can move on.” The journalist offered and moved to the next question. “milkandcookiesfor1 asks, what was your favorite scene to film?”
“Wow.” You laughed awkwardly. “That is also a reference to my last relationship.”
“Is it really?” Tom asked asked through a fake smile.
“He and I used to call each other - you know what?” You stopped yourself. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Interesting.” Tom narrowed his eyes.
“I’m sorry.” The journalist looked at you sympathetically.
“It’s fine.” You assured her. “Don’t worry about it.”
“It’s fine. I’m fine.” Tom hummed. You knew he was two seconds from exploding, so you put a comforting hand on his shoulder.
“I can go to a different one.” She suggested. “Um, let’s see. @itsabradandy/nthing asks-“
“Oh my God.” Tom faked a laugh. “Where did you get these questions? The Y/n and Brad fan club?”
“Tom.” You said calmly. “It’s not her fault. Settle down. Settle down.”
“What’s the question?” Tom asked. “What does Y/n and Brad forever so desperately want to know?”
“Um, they asked if Y/n thinks Brad watches the marvel movies.” The journalist said weakly.
“I can answer that.” You piped up. “The answer is, who knows? Since we don’t keep in contact. So no one has anything to worry about.”
“I’m gonna give milk and cookies something to worry about.” Tom grumbled to himself.
“You were threatening those accounts left and right. They were probably like, 12.” You reminded him when you stopped thinking of the incident.
“Okay. So they’re old enough to know better than to continue to ship two people who haven’t been together for years.” He shot back. “I’m just saying.”
“Well don’t.” You put your hands on your hips. “Don’t say anything.”
He was quiet for a moment and you thought he had dropped the topic before you heard a faint,
“Milk and cookies is a stupid nickname.”
“Tom.” You warned.
“I’m sorry.” He held up his hands. “It had to be said.”
“It didn’t.” You tried not to laugh at his antics. “And we didn’t call each other milk and cookies. He was milk and I was cookies.”
“Well that’s even worse.” He exclaimed.
“Do you see what I mean?” You gestured to him. “You’re overreacting.”
“That’s literally one example.” He defended.
“Oh, really?” You raised an eyebrow. “Two words. Dryer incident.”
~the dryer incident~
“Someone left these in the dryer.” Harry announced as he held up a black thong. “Yours, Tom?”
“Shut up. Don’t touch those.” Tom grumbled as he snatched the thong from his brother.
“What do those even cover?” Sam snorted as he watched the interaction.
“Not much but she doesn’t wear them for long anyway.” Tom shot back.
“Tom.” You choked on your drink when you heard what your boyfriend had said.
“What?” He asked. “You don’t.”
“How was that bad?” Tom scoffed, back in the present now. “All I said was the truth.”
“Your parents were in the room.” You reminded him. “You talked about my panties in front of your parents to get back at your brother.”
“Well he was being an ass.” Tom shrugged.
“And you were being inappropriate.” You pointed at him. “And oh my God, how could I forget? The ring light incident.”
~the ring light incident~
“Are we ready?” You asked the boys as you turned on your camera.
“Yeah.” Harry answered. “It’s about time you had me on your YouTube channel.”
“Shoot. I forgot the ring light in the other room.” You realized and stood up to grab it. As you walked past the boys, all their heads turned to watch you in your tiny shorts.
“Hey.” Tom angrily snapped to get his friends attention.
“What?” Harrison asked. “We can’t look?”
“No.” Tom snapped. “Unless you want to die.”
“That ass is worth it.” Harrison nudged Harry. “You’re gonna have to kill me, because I’m gonna look when she comes back in the-“
“I’ll kill you.” Tom threatened before lunging at his friend.
“That wasn’t my fault.” Tom insisted, cutting the memory short. “I was provoked. I reacted how anyone would react.”
“Tom, when I got back into the room, you were sitting on his head while yelling “is this ass worth it?” No one else would react like that.” You laughed.
“Well maybe I’m just unique.” Tom said quietly.
“Yeah.” You folded your arms. “You were really unique that one time with Zendaya.”
“That’s was a misunderstanding.” He whined as he recalled the memory.
~that one time with Zendaya~
“Do you have any…” Zendaya trailed off and gestured something with her hands after pulling you aside.
“Yeah.” You knew was she needed. “Let’s go.”
Tom watched the two of you curiously as you took her hand and lead her out of the room. The two of you were gone for a while before you came back giggling with you rubbing Zendaya’s back.
“I can’t believe we’re synced. I feel so close to you.” She laughed as she rejoined the group. You sat down first and she sat in your lap as you absentmindedly rubbed her stomach. Tom watched the whole interaction with jealousy until he got a chance to ask you about it later.
“Do you think we’re synced?” He asked you once you were alone.
“You and me.” He explained. “Are we in sync like you and Daya?”
“Oh.” You laughed. “No. We’re not.”
“You don’t think so?” Tom frowned as he filled with jealousy.
“Obviously not.” You said. “We could never be synced.”
“Because it’s impossible.” You shrugged. “Why would you even ask that?”
“I don’t know.” He looked down sadly. “I always thought you and I were the closest in the friend group.”
“We are.” You told him.
“But you just said we’ll never be in sync.” He pouted. “Like you and Daya are.”
“Because you don’t menstrate, Tom.” You looked at him skeptically.
“What does that have to do with anything?” He asked.
“I said Daya and I were synced.” You reminded him. “As in our menstral cycles are synced up.”
“Wait, what?” Tom did a double take. “You were talking about your period this whole time?”
“Yeah. It happens sometimes when women are close to each other. Their periods sync up. But I don’t know. Maybe you’re on your period too because you look like you’re about to cry.” You chuckled when you noticed his frown.
“I’m not. I’m just feeling very emotional right now.” He said as he fanned his eyes.
“Oh God.” You laughed at him as he pretended to wipe his eyes.
“Could you get me some tea please?” His voice cracked.
“Sure.” You snorted. “You want a tampon too?”
“You got so upset and we weren’t even dating.” You laughed at the memory. “And over a period! You don’t even get a period!”
“Fine. Maybe I was in the wrong that time.” He admitted. “But I wasn’t when we were at that coffee shop.”
~the coffee shop incident~
“Oh no.” You gulped as you slid into the booth at the coffee shop.
“What?” Tom asked.
“He wrote his number in the cup.” You cringed and turned the paper cup around. The change in Tom’s mood was instant as his eyes read over the number the barista had written on your coffee cup. You noticed the way his knuckles turned white as his hand clenched around his own coffee cup.
“Tom.” You warned.
“Give me the cup. I’m gonna pour it on his head.” He grumbled as he took your cup.
“No.” You took the cup back. “It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine.” He insisted. “Did he just not see me? We were holding hands when we walked in. I’m obviously your boyfriend. Wait, I have an idea.”
“What?” You wondered.
“Let’s go to the bathroom and have really loud sex so he hears.” Tom proudly told you his plan.
“That’s a great idea!” You smiled. “And then we can get arrested and go to prison!”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Tom held up his hands in defense. “Sorry I’m not a fountain of good ideas.”
“You wanted us to commit a felony because someone wrote their number on my coffee cup.” You emphasized.
“Okay maybe. Maybe that was overreacting.” He admitted when the memory ended. “But I still think you’re wrong. I don’t get jealous. And I definitely don’t overreact.”
“Okay.” You rolled your eyes and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Whatever you say.”
“If it truly bothers you, I’ll work on it.” He said quietly as he rubbed your back.
“Nah, it doesn’t bother me.” You chuckled before leaning in for a kiss. “I think it’s cute how jealous you get. As long as you don’t start getting crazy possessive, I’ll be okay.”
“I’ll keep it in check.” He mumbled before kissing you again. You tangled your fingers in his hair as he wrapped his arms around your waist, silently telling you to jump. You obliged and jumped up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carried you to the couch. He laid you down and continued to kiss you as he fingers found the button of your jeans. Just as he slipped your pants off, the doorbell rang.
“Ugh.” You whined and pulled away. “Who’s that?”
“Ignore it.” Tom shook his head before pulling off his shirt. He leaned down to kiss you again, but the doorbell interrupted you once more.
“Oh my God.” You groaned and got off the couch. “I’m gonna tell them to go away. Stay here.”
You left Tom on the couch and opened the door, forgetting your pants had been discarded somewhere on the floor.
“Package delivery for - Woah.” The mailman paused as he unapologetically checked you out. “Do you always answer the door like this?”
“Ha, no.” You shut the door a little to cover yourself. “I just wasn’t expected anyone.”
“That’s a shame.” He clicked his tongue. “If this is what I got to see every time I came to your house, I’d get a job at every place within a ten mile radius that delivers.”
Before you could respond, Tom appeared behind your shoulder and placed a protective arm around your body.
“What’s going on here?” Tom furrow his eyebrows at the mailman.
With a man present, the mailman immediately recoiled and cleared his throat. His posture lost its confidence and he was no longer looking at you like you were his next meal. You couldn’t help but audibly scoff at the difference in his behavior.
“Oh.” He gulped as Tom stared him down. “I didn’t realize you had company.”
“Yeah.” Tom smirked. “She does.”
“Bummer.” The mailman mumbled.
“Did you need us to sign for that?” Tom pointed to the package as his other arm tightened around you.
“Um, yeah sorry. But I’ll need her signature.” The mailman weakly pointed to you. You took the package from him and took the pen out of his pocket to sign for it. As you were writing down your name, the man seemed to get a new surge of confidence.
“You know, you’re a lucky guy.” He said to Tom. “But I’d be a little more careful if I were you. You gotta keep a tighter grip on the leash.”
“Excuse me?” You asked as you clicked the pen. You felt Tom’s body tense against you and you knew that comment wasn’t going to sit well with him.
“I’m just saying, you should keep an eye on her if she walks around dressed like that.” The mailman nodded towards you. You went to tell him off, but Tom beat you to it.
“She’s dressed like that because I was in the middle of fucking her before you interrupted.” Tom smiled brightly as he handed the pen back to the guy. “Have a nice day!”
After slamming the door in the mans face, Tom turned to you with a proud expression. His smile immediately faded when he saw you staring back at him with folded arms. He sheepishly looked down at the ground before nodding admitting,
“I can see in that situation how I might have overreacted.”
Tag List 🏷
@awesomebooklover17 @thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling @serendipitous-amor
@foreverxholland @lavender-writer @michaela072796 @whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101 @waiting-to-be-myself @letsloveimagines @peterparkoure @a-villain-vying-for-attention @justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr @tiny-friggin-human @mara-twins @iamaunicorn4704 @maryjanee23 @geeksareunique @emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland @flixndchill @sovereignparker @thisisthebiplace @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @caelestii-e @eridanuswave @itscaminow @fiantomartell @solarxmoonchild @canyouevencauseicant @illwritetomorrow @thehappygrungelife @saysomethingspiderman @smilexcaptainx @quaksonhehe @kelieah @kickingn-ames @seasidecrowbar @lovelessdagger @electraheart-3174 @unbelievableholland @yourtypicalhotmess @spideyanakin @horanxholland @thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx @heyheycharlatte @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie @tomshufflepuff
@maybemona @alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom @xo-spidey @big-galaxy-chaos @pandaxnienke @theincredibledeadlyviper @thestylestour @officialsimppage @mrvelscaptains @peterbenjiparker @itsemohours @okkulta @parkerlovebot @jungkxxkk @olixerwxxd @starkbrain @creatorofthegalaxy @ilovefrogs1000 @itstaskeen @wrendermeuseless @amazinggracy @iprobablyshipit91 @magicalxdaydream @whereismytelephone @theonly1outof-a-billion @leilanixx @namoreno @bi-lmg @dracoswhore007 @tomhollandloml @avengers-hamiltrash @sunshinepeterparkr @gh0stgurl @so-very-asleep @veryholland @white-wolf1940 @spideycheles @firwproof-blog
@nowayhomeparker @willowestelle @imobsessedzs @spideyspeaches @bookfrog242 @hihiweezing @mathletemadison @mackenziejanine @dhtomholland @peterstommy @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @prancerrparkerr @aayaissaa @loudthoughts-softspoken @starknik22 @hallecarey1 @tom-holland-is-bae @adayasgeorgia @sam-hollandsgirl @blackwidowisthebest @imawhoreforu @noimaginationforblognames @ricksmorty @mrs-brekker15 @celestialholland @ciarahollands @nellabellaa @cottoncandyholland @supermouse1234world @boogywoogywoogy @freakofmusic25 @elizabethraymond @same-panic-different-disco
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can you create a list of fights with tom? <3
Conflict - @dlwritings
First Fight - @calif0rnia-lovers
Hurricane - @naturallytom
Like To Be You - @sunshinehollandd
Give Me A Minute To Hold My Girl - @waitimcomingtoo
Worst Travel Day Ever - @trashinaglass
Against The World - @spideyyposts
Talking - @tom-softie
Torn Leaves, Broken Hearts - @t-lostinworlds
3 Hearts Broken - @wizkiddx
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tic-tac-toe | mcu
marvel cast x actress!reader
warnings: one swear, fluff, no plot
summary: you play aphrodite in the MCU and it's time for the press conference for infinity war. based off of this press conference
"Tom Hiddleston!" Jeff Goldblum introduced the man who was sitting on your right.
Everyone applauded before Jeff moved onto you, "Y/N Y/L/N!" more applause rang through the room.
"Sebastian Stan!" you looked to your left where Sebastian waved to the crowd as you clapped with everyone else.
After Jeff finished with the introductions, he explained how the panel would work. He would pull a ping pong ball out of a container and it would either have a name or category. The audience would be able to ask a question to that person or a person in that category after Jeff called on them.
As he pulled RDJ's name out of the container, Tom leaned over towards you.
"Does your water taste funny, too?" he whispered making you stifle a laugh.
You nodded, "Kind of like lemon, right?"
He shook his head, "Mine tastes like mint. Can I taste yours?" he held his hand out as you passed him your water bottle. He took a sip and spent a moment analyzing the taste, "Yours does taste like lemon! Why does mine taste different? Here." he passed you his water.
You took a sip and were hit with a strong mint flavour, "Woah. I think they're trying to drug you." you joked making him laugh.
"As I am answering this question, Tom Hiddleston and Y/N Y/L/N are discussing the flavours of the water behind me." Robert exposed you and Tom to the audience making the room burst out into laughter.
"They have fancy water. Mint and lemon." Tom spoke into a mic drawing more laughs. "Sorry. Carry on!"
As Jeff pulled the next name, you adjusted your dress. A white, long sleeve, blazer dress with gold buttons down the middle, the dress ended mid-thigh. The v-neck cut showcased your subtle gold necklace. Black stiletto heels covered your feet.
You unconsciously began bouncing your leg up and down in a fast motion. Sebastian placed a hand on your thigh, stopping your movements, "You're gonna drill a hole through the floor, Y/L/N." he chuckled.
"Sorry." you laughed quietly.
Sebastian pulled out a notepad and pen, "You need a distraction. Tic-tac-toe?" he offered.
You smiled with a nod before making your move.
"You absolutely suck at this." you chuckled as you won the third game in a row.
Sebastian scoffed, "You can't suck at tic-tac-toe."
"And yet, you do." you smirked.
He rolled his eyes playfully before you continued playing.
After two more rounds, your attention was back on Jeff as he pulled a new ping pong ball. "Ooh! You can ask a God or Goddess." Jeff announced, "So, Tom Hiddleston, Chris Hemsworth or Y/N Y/L/N." he reminded the crowd, "Okay, yes, you!" he picked a woman in the front row.
"Hi, I'm Alexis with Forbes. My question is for Y/N." the room applauded as Jeff tossed the ping pong ball at you and you caught it with one hand.
"See, Robert! It's not that hard!" Jeff exclaimed making everyone laugh.
"Screw off, Goldblum! You chucked that shit at my head." Robert joked back. "Sorry, Alexis, go ahead."
"Um, I wanted to ask about Aphrodite's powers. We all know that she is the Goddess of Love and can seduce anyone with her beauty. We see in the trailer a small clip of her seducing men. How many people did you seduce in the film and were there any funny moments filming those scenes that you can share?"
Her question drew a mix of reactions from the cast. Some laughed, some furrowed their eyebrows and others were just confused. You took in the question before opening your mouth to reply, until you remembered that you weren't wearing a body mic. The cast laughed again before Sebastian passed you a mic.
"Sorry. Um, how many people did I seduce in the film? None." you stated drawing more laughs, "How many people did Aphrodite seduce? All of them." you chuckled, "I'm kidding. Although, I'm not sure what I can share because I don't know what's in the trailer." you confessed, "Kevin, Joe, Anthony, what's in the trailer?" you asked them making everyone laugh again.
Kevin picked up a mic, "I believe it's you seducing Spider-Man, Starlord, Drax and Iron Man."
You nodded, "I do have a funny moment that I'm sure Mister Holland will kill me for sharing, but it's too good to not tell." you smiled thinking of the memory.
Tom immediately grabbed a mic, "You wouldn't!" he exclaimed making the audience and cast laugh.
"I would," you retorted, "We were shooting that scene and, as you know, they have to act like they are falling in love with me. Like I'm putting them in a trance. Well, Tom took that a bit too seriously." you paused at the laughter that your sentence caused, "They're all on their knees in front of me, looking at me as if I'm their queen, because I am." you joked, "And then Anthony calls 'cut' and Dave, Chris and RDJ all get up and start chatting, but as I'm turning away, Tom doesn't move. Still on his knees, looking at me as if I hold the world in my hands." the room filled with amused laughs and chuckles as Tom covered his face with his hands.
"No, it was so bad because I just looked like a creep that couldn't stop staring at her!" Tom laughed at himself.
Robert grabbed a mic, "Very true. I was watching and it honestly had me convinced that Y/N had real powers."
"I have to say, I understand the kid's reaction. Y/N's costume for Aphrodite and the way they transform her only enhances how gorgeous she already is." Anthony Mackie spoke up causing the crowd to gush and clap, "I'm pretty sure we all had the same reaction when we first saw her while filming Civil War." he looked around as the cast nodded.
Scarlett picked up a mic, "Yeah. I remember her walking on set in this stunning white dress which made me extremely jealous," she confessed, "Because, one, it's so gorgeous and she looks absolutely amazing in it," the crowd and cast applauded again, "And two, it's made of the softest silk while my suit is leather and spandex!" everyone laughed at her comment.
Benedict picked up his mic, "Although, it wasn't Tom's first time seeing Y/N as Aphrodite. He was in Civil War and still could not contain himself." he teased making the audience and cast laugh again.
Robert spoke again, "Yeah, he did that during the filming of Civil War, too." the room hollered with laughs.
Tom's face was bright red, "I'm just a very committed actor. I really give all of myself to my work." his comment drew more laughs.
"That's why Sebastian despises Tom. It all started when Tom couldn't take his eyes off of Y/N." Chris Hemsworth added making everyone double over in laughter.
"I feel so loved," you held a hand to your heart as the room chuckled, "These are genuinely the best people in the world and I guess you could say I seduced one person during filming." you joked as the crowd continued to laugh, "Sorry, Tom. I'll buy you some juice, don't be mad." Anthony and Benedict laughed loudly. "Thank you for your question!" you thanked the lady as the cast clapped before Jeff picked out the next ping pong ball.
Next was Scarlett. You sat back and silently judged the man who asked about fashion. Scoffing with Sebastian at his question and laughing at Scarlett's sarcastic and witty responses.
Sebastian leaned over again, "I have to piss."
You stifled a laugh at his abrupt confession, "Go to the washroom, then." you nodded your head towards the exit.
"We're not allowed to leave." he frowned.
You chuckled and reached over, patting his thigh with your hand, "Don't piss yourself."
He rolled his eyes playfully before Jeff called out the next name.
"Hi, I'm Tiffany with Times Magazine. With such a star studded cast, do you find it difficult or any obstacles in developing your character with all theses amazing stories being told and struggling for screen time? Like, are there any obstacles or special difficulties or is it all just amazing?"
Before Anthony could answer, Joe Russo picked up his mic, "Are you asking Anthony Mackie if he has a hard time getting attention?" his comment caused the whole room to erupt in laughs.
Anthony nodded slowly as the laughter died down, "Touché, touché. Uh, well, Tiffany, a wise man once said that some men need an hour to make their presence felt and some need thirty seconds." there was an uproar of laughter and hollering at his comment as he dramatically dropped the mic on the table.
"Who are we asking next?" Jeff squinted at the ping pong ball, "Ooh! Back to the Goddess of Love herself, Y/N Y/L/N!" the room applauded for you as Jeff threw the ball to you.
Sebastian intercepted the toss and caught the ball himself with a smug smirk. You rolled your eyes, but smiled as Jeff picked a lady out of the dozens who had raised their hand.
"Hi, I'm Amy with Esquire and I wanted to ask about the relationship between Bucky and Aphrodite. We see in the previous films their awkward tension from their past history. They have a very special romance and their love story is a fan favourite in the Marvel fandom. What was it like building that bond and relationship on screen? And what do you think of the choice to match the two characters together, how did you react when you found out? Did the pairing of the two help build your bond off screen?"
Jeff spoke again, "I said 'one question', that was at least twenty." he teased the lady drawing laughs from the room.
You chuckled and nodded slowly as the laughter died down, "Excellent questions. Umm, I honestly really like the pairing of the two. I think it gives a great dynamic to both characters and reveals sides of them that we never would've seen without their relationship. It's a very 'good girl falling for the bad guy' trope. And if I'm being honest, I've always wanted that." you confessed causing the room to chuckle, "Their relationship is, without a doubt, one of the most complicated ones in the MCU, but I think that's what makes it so loved by the fans since there's not a dull moment between the two. It's nice to see Bucky have a sentimental side, in his own awkward way of course. And you get to see Aphrodite fall for someone who's not a God or a Titan." you turned to Sebastian, "What do you think?"
You offered him the mic, but he didn't take it, letting you hold it up for him, "Yeah, I agree. I never thought Bucky would have a love interest, if I'm being honest. But I'm glad he does because Aphrodite brings out the soft side in him and he brings out the fighter in her. They really balance each other out and Y/N portrays the character in such a unique way, it really brings a whole new fresh persona to Aphrodite and it's amazing having her as a partner on screen." the audience applauded at his words, "When I first found out about Bucky having her as his love interest—"
"—He called me screaming about how hyped he was." Anthony Mackie cut him off making the room laugh. "Anthony! Anthony! Bucky is gonna be with Aphrodite! That's gonna be sick!" Anthony mocked his voice as you were hunched over with laughter.
Sebastian nodded with a smile, "I did. Won't lie, I did. It's a really refreshing relationship and I'm glad that the fans love it as much as I love playing it. Back to you, you haven't talked about the development and our bond." he gave you a lopsided grin.
You chuckled, "I feel like I'm rambling, but yeah. Their development is definitely," you paused, trying to find the right words, "A development?" you settled on drawing more laughter. "Well, as I said, it's very complicated, but awkwardly adorable at times. Since Seb complimented me, I feel obligated to say something nice about him," you joked making them laugh again, "Kidding. He really does play Bucky with such passion and commitment, it's truly inspiring. And working with someone who loves what they do as much as Seb, it definitely motivates you tremendously and yeah. Um, I won't lie, I honestly was dreading working with Seb," you confessed drawing laughs and a gasp from Sebastian.
"Why?!" he exclaimed making you laugh.
You sighed, "Not because I think you're a bad person or anything, but you come off as very intimidating to people who don't know you very well. And I knew nothing about you before filming other than the films you'd already done, so you scared me." your confession caused everyone to laugh loudly.
Sebastian smirked jokingly, "I am extremely frightening. I understand." he shrugged.
You scoffed with a laugh, "I caught you sleeping with a stuffed turtle and whale noises playing." the room roared with laughter again, "That's when I knew you were a big softy."
Sebastian rolled his eyes playfully, "She's joking. I am the toughest man alive." he deepened his voice.
You shook your head with a chuckle, "Sure. Thank you for your questions." the room clapped for you as you set the mic down and relaxed back into your seat.
"Nailed it." Sebastian held a hand out for a high five and you chuckled before hitting your hand against his.
For the rest of the press conference, you sat back and listened to your friends answer questions. Laughed at jokes made and clapped when appropriate. Small tic-tac-toe games went on between you and Sebastian. Your attention was fully on your nails when Tom Hiddleston got called on.
"Hi, I'm Samantha with Daily Mail and I was wondering, since Loki is a very closed off and mysterious character, we never explore the aspect of him having a love interest. So, if you could choose anyone from the MCU for Loki to end up with, who would it be and why?"
You turned to look at Tom as he pondered on the question, crossing his arms and rubbing his chin, "Very good question. Umm, who would I choose for Loki? Let's see," he paused again and looked around the room until his eyes landed on you, "Ah, I'd steal Aphrodite from Bucky." he answered making the room laugh and Sebastian chuckled with a nod.
"Why Aphrodite?" Jeff asked.
Tom chuckled again, "Well, it's Aphrodite." he simply answered drawing more laughs, "They are so different yet similar in so many ways. Loki is never fully evil nor fully good, but I think Aphrodite has the best chance of turning him good. And who wouldn't want to end up with the Goddess of Love?"
The cast nodded understandingly before Chris Pratt grabbed a mic, "If you were to ask any person on this stage that same question, I guarantee the answer would be Aphrodite." the whole cast nodded.
"They're all trying to steal Sebastian's woman." Jeff teased.
Sebastian scoffed jokingly, "They're all jealous." he wrapped an arm around your shoulder.
You chuckled with a shake of your head before Robert spoke up, "Adding onto the conversation. Miss Y/L/N, who would you want Aphrodite to end up with?" his question drew excited reactions from the crowd.
You let out a bark of laughter before looking from Tom to Sebastian, "Hmm, excellent question, Mister Downey." you rubbed your chin, "Stop doing that, Holland." you chuckled as you saw Tom point at himself in the corner of your eye.
He raised his hands in surrender before Anthony Mackie spoke up, "Spidey is five years old, kid." everyone laughed at that.
"I'd have to stick with Bucky. He is her true love." you shrugged as the crowd cheered.
Sebastian smirked from beside you as the men of the cast faked disappointment.
As the panel came to a close, you looked around at the family you were surrounded by. Friends you love more than anything. Hundreds of memories with the most amazing people you'd ever met. Your home.
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Unscripted | t.h
Pairing: Tom Holland x actress!reader
Summary: “You had never left theatre, though, and this was a double-edged sword. You had been lucky enough to live your dream, while still getting to lead a private and somehow still grounded life, but your World was much smaller, much more fragile, than the one many of your colleagues – could you call them ‘colleagues’? – were well engraved in.
You were easier to break. Easier to destroy. Easier to forget.”
Word count: 3.585k
Chapter Warnings: English not being my first language, possible typos
A/n: And here we are. After months, Unscripted is finally done... I never thought I would post it as a miniseries, but hey, at least it gave me the excuse to create a moodboard… To those who waited, thank you for your patience 💜 To my new readers, welcome 💜 I hope you all will enjoy this! See you at the end of the post!
You stood there in front of the door, nervously pulling at your clothes, trying to look busy. Like you were actually there for a good reason. The best part of it was that you were. The worst part was that maybe you just needed a bit more time to convince yourself about it.
When your manager Cindy first broke the news to you, it didn’t feel real. You could still remember every single detail of that exact moment like it just happened a few seconds ago.
The way she burst into your room as soon as you opened the door, scaring Lady Yuna to death, and gaining a loud hiss of protest from what was possibly the most peaceful and quiet cat in the whole World. How she had to help you get up from the floor before she could tell you what was going on. The look of excitement on her face and the fact that you just couldn’t believe that the sentences coming out of her mouth were correct and true, and that it wasn’t only your mind playing tricks on you.
But it was real.
A new play, a completely original one, and a role waiting just for you to be brought to life for the very first time. In eighteen years of treading the boards, you’d had the occasion to play many different roles on many different stages all over the Country. Some bigger, some smaller. Some quite important, some barely known.
However, even after all those years, even after literally growing up in that universe, the excitement, the sense of wonder, were still there with you, as strong as they had been on that very first day. That was the reason why this was total dream come true.
That, and the fact that you had the chance to forever link your name to a new character, taking the responsibility to lead the way for many other future actresses, maybe even becoming their reference point.
… assuming things went in the best of ways, of course.
Sure, being associated with a success is a huge responsibility… but success doesn’t hold a candle to failure. Especially when your name is not a big one.
It wasn’t like no one knew who you were – after being in the business for so long, it was objectively impossible –, in fact, you had discovered that you had a quite strong and adorable fan base, and you couldn’t have been more grateful for that.
You had never left theatre, though, and this was a double-edged sword. You had been lucky enough to live your dream, while still getting to lead a private and somehow still grounded life, but your World was much smaller, much more fragile, than the one many of your colleagues – could you call them ‘colleagues’? – were well engraved in.
You were easier to break. Easier to destroy. Easier to forget.
And if I fail, if I’m not good enough, it’ll be entirely my fault…
“You okay?”, a voice, accompanied by a snap of fingers, finally dared to interrupt your train of thoughts.
Your head turned towards Cindy, who was standing right next to you.
She was tall. Like, Taylor Swift tall. Much taller than you. Always had been, ever since you could remember. Yes, you loved her, but at the same time you kinda hated her for those gorgeous long legs. Despite the fact that you were both wearing heels – very high heels, in your case –, you still didn’t even reach her cheekbones. Those beautifully high cheekbones, caressed by those incredibly long lashes.
Remind me again who’s the actress and who’s the manager…
Knowing you like the back of her hand, she wasn’t offended by your answer. Or rather, lack of. “Daydreaming again?”, she simply asked.
“I feel like a fraud”, you blurted out, your voice threatening to break on the last word.
Cindy arched an eyebrow, a sceptical look in her eyes. “Doesn’t sound like daydreaming to me.”
You shook your head, ignoring her teasing. “It’s not too late”, you tried again, your fingers wrapping themselves around her wrist. “We can still leave.”
“Stop it.” She freed her arm with a roll of her eyes. “They’re gonna love you.”
“Or maybe they’re gonna take a look at me, see that I look like a child wearing adult clothes, and kick me out faster than the speed of light as soon as I open my mouth”, you deadpanned, staring down at your restless hands, but quickly raising your head – and voice – when you felt a light pinch on your arm.
“Ouch!” You rubbed the skin through the fabric. “What was that for?”
“First of all”, Cindy began, pointing a finger at you. “You’re twenty-four and that dress looks great on you.” She lowered her hand and narrowed her eyes, a knowing smirk appearing on her face. “Second of all, it would be their loss, not yours.”
You were grateful for her words. But no matter how nice they were, your doubts remained stronger. “I mean it, Cin…”, you replied. “I’m not sure I’m the right person for this.”
“What makes you say that?”
“What makes you notsay that?”, you countered, frustration and insecurity palpable behind your apparently calm and relaxed tone. “I don’t even know what the script is about”, you started listing, your fingers keeping the count, but your gaze getting more and more lost with every passing word. “I don’t know how many characters the play has. Or the name of the main characters. Are there even main characters? Or is it a one-person-show? Or–”
Cindy simply cut you off with what had become her usual answer. “It’s top secret. They told me I couldn’t tell you anything.”
“Yeah. I know”, you huffed, biting the inside of your cheek. “Because they want to be the ones to introduce me to the story. I get it.”
You knew all too well that there was no point in trying to get any sort of information from her. Cindy was the type of person you could trust to keep a secret even under torture. By no doubt, an amazing and loyal friend. And an absolute nightmare of a manager when you were the one she had to keep things from.
She leaned her head towards yours a bit, as her voice was reduced to a whisper. “If it makes you feel better, I know a couple of things.”
“Please”, you scoffed. “Every time you say that, it means you already know life, death and miracles of every single character that’s gonna appear in the story.”
That sentence caused her to chuckle. “And that is why you should trust me when I tell you that this role is already yours”, she said, matter-of-factly, making it clear that nothing you could say or do would change her mind. “So, stop questioning my abilities.”
“I’m not questioning your abilities, Cin”, you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. You hated this. To sound like an ungrateful, untrusting brat was the last thing you wanted, and yet, there you were, doing just that because, hey, God forbid you might actually formulate some positive thoughts about you and your situation…
This time, you didn’t receive a pinch on your arm, but a gentle, yet firm squeeze on your elbow. “Just trust me, kid.”
“Don’t call me ‘kid’.”
“Don’t call me ‘baby’.”
Of course. She knew exactly where and how to hit.
“Don’t you dare use Taylor against me.” You stopped your lips from curling up into a smile, and instead forced them into a pout, pretending to look offended.
Cindy let go of your elbow, not even attempting to mask her satisfaction. “Then stop being a pain in the ass and be the actress I know you are.”
You were about to reply when you heard noises coming from the other side of the door. Your heart jumped into your throat, but you managed to stay still and to keep your face neutral. To an outside eye, you would’ve looked like someone with no worries, who was simply waiting to be received. Yes, you were dying on the inside, but you were an actress, after all.
And Cindy was right, it was the moment to show it.
Then, a sudden feeling appeared inside of you. One that you knew very well. It started in your chest, buzzing like a swarm of bees, getting stronger by the second, spreading from your stomach to your toes, from your knees to the back of your head. It was the same feeling you got every time you were about to hold a script in your hands, every time you were about to get into character, every time you were about to walk on stage.
And, just like that, fear vanished, getting lost like a distant memory, completely replaced by thatexcitement. That sense of wonder.
“There you are”, Cindy smirked, immediately sensing the change in you.
You raised your chin and straightened your back, definitely putting an end to your nervous fidgeting as you watched the door open.
Easier to break. Easier to destroy. Easier to forget.
Well, y/n l/n, do your absolute best to make sure none of that happens.
“What did I tell you?” Cindy pointed a finger at you. “They bloody loved youuuu!” She was singing those words to the rhythm of the chorus of 22, which was now playing in the background. “Everything went alright! Just like I told youuuu!”
Cindy had many talents, but if there was one thing that she really couldn’t do, it was sing: she would constantly complain about how tone-deaf she was and categorically refused to even hum a melody in front of anyone.
Anyone but you. In fact, she used to say that singing with you actually improved her performance – something to do with you having an actual singer in your family –, so you were some sort of a lucky charm for her. Those moments, when she would just let go, were simply the best ever. You both would sing on top of your lungs like kids, without giving a shit about off-key notes or wrong words.
Laughing, you pretended to prostrate yourself, careful not to spill your drink. “I humbly ask to be forgiven.”
“Mmh.” Cindy tilted her head to the side, eyes narrowing like she was seriously considering it, while swirling the wine around in her glass. “Granted”, she came to a decision, downing it in one go. “But only because I’m in a good mood.”
You suppressed a giggle and played along, bowing your head and thanking her silently.
“Here’s to you, Miss I’m not sure I’m the right person for this”, she added, pouring herself another glass and then raising it towards you, and you were quick to mimic her. “… or should I start calling you ‘Anaïs’?”
You had “met” her and fell in love with her right away. As soon as you began reading the script, everything fell into place and you just knewthat she was yours. Truly yours.
To say that things were going well was an understatement.
The meeting turned out to be an actual audition, a test that you passed with flying colours. The director, Thecla, had explained to you the plot and, most importantly, who the character was and what her journey would be, then proceeded to read several scenes with you. Every time, she would give you an exhaustive explanation of what her original idea was, but one thing she had made specifically clear from the very beginning, was that, during the months of rehearsal, you would have a say in that matter, too.
She liked the idea of having actors involved in the process of developing and evolving a character and, when she had seen how brilliant you could do after just a simple explanation, she was left with no doubt and straightaway gave you the part.
It was a play written for only two actors, but you still didn’t know who your co-star would be. In any other circumstance, all this secrecy would’ve worried you, but this time it wasn’t the case. You had never trusted a director that rapidly and that blindly, but you and Thecla had clicked instantly: even after a simple conversation, it was evident how much she cared for her story and how important it was for her to bring it to life in the best way possible. There was no way in the World that she could make the wrong choice.
Which means I’m a good choice, too…
That thought almost brought tears of joy to your eyes. “Oh God, I still can’t believe it…”, you murmured, mostly to yourself. You knew that there was a very stupid smile on your face, but you just couldn’t care less. “What about you, Lady Yuna?”
The soft ball of fur was curled up on your crossed legs, but promptly raised her head when she heard her name, blinking at you a few times with her big blue and green eyes.
“Can you believe it, kiddo?”, you cooed, giving her a light scratch under her chin and causing her to purr happily. “Are you happy for your mommy?”
Cindy watched the scene unfold, her gaze travelling back and forth between you and your cat. “Can’t decide if that look means that she’s proud of you…”, she began, but stopped to take another sip of wine. “… or that she just wants some more treats.”
“Well, I’m gonna give her more treats anyway”, you decided, already setting your glass down, trading it for a little flower-shaped box an opening it. Lady Yuna wasted no time, sitting with her ears pointing up. “Because she is proud of me.”
Plus it was a special night: it was only fair that all the ladies in the house got their chance to celebrate. You were drinking wine, which was an extremely rare – if not unique – exception for you, therefore Lady Yuna could definitely get some extra treats.
“Your logic is flawless.”
For a while, Taylor kept singing and so did you. Once Lady Yuna had finished her treats, she got off your lap to get to her favourite napping spot, right next to the one you were occupying. You petted her a bit more, then returned your attention to your manager and friend, who was now singing Exile, trying to play both Taylor and Bon Iver at the same time.
You paused and bit your lip, trying to find the right words. In the end, you settled for simple ones. You already knew what they meant: they didn’t need to be grand, just true. “I wanted to thank you.”
“You already have, y/n”, Cindy pointed out with a giggle. “More than a hundred times, I think… not quite sure, though, I might’ve lost the count.”
You shook your head. “No, I mean…”, straightening your back, you sat up and looked her right in the eye, “… thank you thank you”, you clarified. “I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you. I’m not even sure I would actually be doing what I’m doing if it wasn’t for you.”
“Please, let me finish.” You cleared your throat and inhaled deeply. “I don’t know how I got so lucky to have you in my life. Not only as a manager, but also as a friend. Especially as a friend. You’re…” For a moment, you were tempted to take her hand in yours, but decided against it: she wasn’t too keen on touching, and neither were you. Just another reason why the two of you got along so well.
“You’re so important, and I always feel like I don’t tell you that enough”, you confessed with a coy smile. “Thank you for being in my life, Cindy Lai.”
She stared at you for a while, as if she was taking you in for the very first time, an unreadable look in her eyes and her hand practically gripping the stem of her glass so tightly that, in case she broke it, you wouldn’t have been surprised.
What actually surprised you were her next words. “… shit, y/n!”, Cindy gritted, looking up, blinking repeatedly and using her free hand to aggressively fan herself. “You can’t be this adorable just like that!”, she whined, and maybe it was just your imagination, but you could’ve sworn you heard a few sniffs coming from her. “I have Yves Saint Laurent stuff on my eyes!”
You had to hold back your laugh, her complaint turning your initial shock into amusement. “I’m sorry, do you want me to get you a tissue or…?”
“Oh, shut up and give me a hug before I change my mind!”, she cut you off, opening her arms and motioning for you to come closer.
You did as she told you, but it felt weird at first: you didn’t exactly know how tight you were supposed to hold her. Your doubts were short-lived, since she literally knocked the wind right out of your lungs with a strength you had no idea she could own.
After that, hugging her back with the same energy was the only natural consequence.
“I bet it’s just payback for not telling you anything”, she muttered, voice still shaken by light sobs. “And for that Taylor joke.”
“A bit, yes”, you admitted, rubbing her back. “But it’s mostly love and good intentions.”
“… and cat fur on your shirt.”
“Okay! That’s a little too much.” She pulled away as if she had just been scorched, almost spilling her wine in the process, and worriedly started checking her blouse, its crimson colour perfectly matching the shade of her lipstick.
“I can already tell Tom’s certainly not gonna be impressed by that.”
That name caught your attention and your smile dropped. “Tom?”
“Your co-star.” Her nonchalance hit you like a punch in the face: she said it like it was the most obvious thing ever. Like you were supposed to know what she was talking about.
“Cindy…” You furrowed your brows, the gears in your brain working like crazy. “This is the first time I’m hearing that name in… the whole day.”
Cindy froze at your last words, hand still on her shoulder as she slowly raised her head to look at you, eyes widened in what you could’ve only described as pure dread. “Oh…”, was her only comment.
But it wasn’t enough for you. “They do know who my co-star is going to be?”, you inquired even though it didn’t sound like you were really asking it.
Narrowing your eyes at her, you realized you had her cornered. And by the look she was giving you, you weren’t the only one to think that. “And so do you.”
“Tell me”, you demanded.
“I can’t”, Cindy gulped, shaking her head. “I couldn’t even tell you that I knew it!”
It felt like a few days ago all over again, with you being about to start a war you had no chance win. That alone was enough to convince you to give up. But then your gaze fell on her blouse, and more specifically on the white hair she hadn’t been able to remove, and an idea popped up in your mind.
“I’m gonna unleash Lady Yuna on you.”
Colour drained from the poor girl’s cheeks at your declaration, and she instinctively leaned back. “No…”
“And she’s super cuddly, tonight.” By sheer coincidence, your cat stretched out her paw to tough your thigh, meowing to get attention and unexpectedly backing you up.
That’s right, kiddo. Team up with your mother.
“Please, don’t”, Cindy attempted to reason with you. She didn’t sound like herself, the weak, trembling voice and submissive behaviour being completely off with her. “They told me I had to wait…”
Deaf to your friend’s plea, you gave her a wicked smirk, picking up Lady Yuna, and holding her in the same way you would’ve held a rifle. You even closed one eye, pretending to aim to make your threat appear more realistic.
“I…” Cindy pressed her lips together, eyes bouncing wildly between your face, your cat and her shirt. “Oh, fuck, alright!”, she whined, head sinking between her shoulders and defeat painting itself all over her features. “Alright…”, she repeated in a murmur.
As pride filled your chest, you raised you chin and let go of your cat, opting for letting her settle on your lap – like the poor creature had originally planned before she became your weapon. “Who knew Lady Yuna was the secret to break you all along…”, you pondered with a grin. “Interesting.”
She rolled her eyes and gave you a fake laugh. “Very funny.”
“So?”, you prompted her, tilting your head to the side and raising an eyebrow.
Cindy pointed a finger at you. “You didn’t hear this from me”, she warned you, now somehow more similar to her usual self. “Better yet, you didn’t hear this at all. Got it?”
“Got it”, you nodded solemnly. “Cross my heart, won’t tell no other.”
That caused her to roll her eyes again, but she didn’t comment on it. “Okay then…” Chin resting on her clasped hands, Cindy took a long deep breath. “Brace yourself, girl”, she warned you one last time, eyes boring into yours.
“Tom Holland’s gonna be your partner.”
That night, the one who scared Lady Yuna to death was you. Seriously, that poor cat really couldn’t catch a break.
A/n: ... yeah, no Tom for now... but fear not, we’ll meet him very soon! Thank you so much for reading this, let me know what you think, if you like 💜 se y'all on next chapter!
Taglist: @isory @spideyspeaches @onewithnomightypowers @wildxwidow @harryhollandsgirlfriend @omegadumb42069 @thisisparadisemylove @tom-softie @jeyramarie @mn-jun @enilemes
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Kinktober Day 23
Pairing: Frat!Tom x reader
Word Count: 416
Kinktober masterlist// masterlist
It was probably a bad idea to come here but you couldn’t care less, you were sad, lonely and horny. What a better way to get those feelings out of your system than hooking up with someone at a frat party. You just didn’t expect to be hooking up with the Frat President. Tom Holland, just dumped by his girlfriend of a year and a half and looking for someone to bury his feelings in or maybe bury his dick in.
Your kisses were sloppy and you both entered his room, not caring about anything other than getting each other naked. You pulled off Tom’s shirt, quickly throwing it across the room as you kissed down his body, starting at his neck trailing down to his chest and ending just above the buttons of his jeans. You fiddled with the belt buckle attempting to pull down, Tom grabbed your wrist, “As fun as that sounds I need to be inside you or I’m gonna explode”
You chuckled, getting up from your knees. Tom unzipped your dress mindlessly throwing it across the room. You climbed on his bed, spreading your legs as you watched him put on a condom.
Tom smiled at you as he stood between your legs, “ready?”
You nodded with a smile as you grabbed his shoulders, pulling him down for a kiss. “Fuck me,” You whispered as he slowly entered you, enjoying the way your walls tightened around him.
His thrust sped up, the sound of skin slapping each other was drowned out by the loud music from the party downstairs, “Oh fuck you feel so good” Tom groaned as he leaned down to kiss your neck.
A loud moan escaped your mouth as your fingers trailed down to rub your clit. The sex was sloppy and messy but you couldn’t care less, you were both just glad to fuck the sadness you had.
“Fuck I’m gonna cum” You whined as Tom spend up inside you. You came at the same time as him, you watched as he threw his head back in pleasure, a sight that would play on repeat in your mind.
As you both came down from your orgasm the room became quiet, “so that was fun” Tom said awkwardly You sighed, getting off the bed to quickly get dressed, “Yeah it was we should do it again sometime’ You smiled, walking towards the door. You waved goodbye as you walked out the room, leaving Tom breathless in the bed.
@awesomebooklover17 @tomsholland2412 @mskatharinak @justiceemarieee
@writesforholland @wildxwidow @hackerholland @nelly-belly @marvelgurl @marvelswhore69 @crybabyddl @wildholland
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can i request one where reader falls asleep on peters lap after a mission and peter carrys her into the tower and just takes care of her? just a whole bunch of soft!boyfriend peter:)
warnings: a few little suggestive jokes
a/n: y’all know how i feel about this concept ugh i love peter to pieces :,)
“rough night?” happy muses as you and peter hop into his suv.
the two of you are fresh off a day of crime fighting, and he’s your ride home. although you’re grateful you didn’t have to go beyond the city limits this time, it doesn’t mean the workload was any less. your little dynamic duo took on quite the opponent — one with claws, lasers, all sorts of freaky gadgets.
it’s remarkable that such a specimen was tucked away in queens.
“if you think we look bad, you should see the other guy,” you lightheartedly retort to happy. peter waits for you climb in first, then plops down beside you. “you really should,” he agrees. “y/n had him on his knees by the end… it was awesome.”
happy shoots you a look via the front mirror, peter snaking a comforting arm around your shoulders. his lips pepper your hair in kisses.
“proud of you, baby. you were so good out there,” peter praises you quietly. you hug his torso with your head now resting against his strong arm. “couldn’t have done it without you, though,” you insist, now snuggled up to your loving boyfriend.
the material of his suit scratches your cheek, but you’re too tired to care.
“congrats on the mission, kids. i take it you two are gonna get all lovey-dovey on each other, so…” happy prefaces. “i’ll shut up and drive.”
he pushes a button that brings up the divider between your seats and his, which offers some much needed privacy for you to relax and unwind.
“thanks, happy,” peter chuckles back, feeling your weight on his arm become heavier. his fingers run up and down your shoulder knowingly. “you okay? must be exhausted,” he answers his own question. your response is a long hum, eyelids beginning to droop.
peter pats his thigh with a small smile. “we got a bit of a drive… you should lie down for a while.” you’re not opposed to that. you gaze up at him through squinted eyes. “hm… on you?” leaving a kiss to the side of your head, peter lets his smile grow. “where else?”
“good point,” you murmur and shift away from his arm. “no offense to tony, but leather seats aren’t very inviting.”
happy shouts an i heard that from the driver’s seat, to which you and peter lightly giggle at.
peter watches you settle on his leg, your head in his lap and body curled into itself to fit. either of his hands go to your back and your hair. his gloved fingers carefully begin to stroke your locks at the roots. you grin to yourself, cheek squished against peter’s thigh and arms wrapped around his knee.
he leans forward to give your exposed cheek a tender kiss. “get some rest, sweetheart. you earned it.” “so… so did you,” you almost inaudibly reply. you’re ready to pass out any second, further hiding your face in peter’s leg. “sleep, y/n/n,” peter encourages you once more.
you finally allow your eyes to close, the combination of peter rubbing your back and playing with your hair enough to lull you off to dreamland.
“here we are, home sweet home,” happy announces as you three pull up to avengers tower. he puts the car in park and rolls down the divider to see how you and peter are doing.
you’ve completely crashed, clinging to peter’s leg with your mouth slightly agape and eyebrows furrowed. peter tucks a strand of your hair back and grins at your peaceful form. he never let go of you the whole drive.
happy glances at peter over his shoulder. “she’s out cold, huh?” a smirk pulls at his lips. “let’s get her inside. boss is expecting a full report for the evening.”
peter honestly isn’t in the mood to deal with tony’s obscure and endless questions, and you definitely aren’t either.
“nah, i don’t wanna wake her,” peter decides, keeping his voice low. he brushes the pad of his thumb across your jawline. “could you tell mr. stark we’ll do it in the morning?”
“he’s not gonna like that,” happy warns peter and shrugs a shoulder. “but, what the hell? it’s late. i’ll take the heat for you, say we encountered some traffic.”
peter purses his lips in pleasant surprise. “aw, really? that would be perfect. thank you so much, happy.” happy tuts, spinning back around. “i’m doing it for y/n. come on, off to bed you go.” he pushes open his car door, peter taking the opportunity to roll his eyes.
peter gently eases you to sit up. one of his arms stays around your back, the other now under your thighs so he can carry you into the tower. happy heads over and opens up peter’s door, since both his hands are already full.
following behind happy inside, peter carries you bridal-style to the elevator. happy does the honors of hitting the buttons while peter holds you close.
he finds peter’s attentiveness to you kind of endearing, but he’ll never admit it.
most of the team has already turned in for the night when you reach the main floor. sam and bucky fell asleep watching the cheetah girls, steve is fixing himself a midnight protein shake, and natasha is finishing her weekly catch-up with yelena over facetime.
she yawns practically every other word.
“i got her from here,” peter informs happy, tightening his arms around you for emphasis. the two of them step out of the elevator. “alright. be up bright and early for your debriefing, or we’re all screwed,” happy reminds him and points a finger at your sleeping body.
peter waits until happy is gone to make his official exit. he carries you past the quadruplet of insomniacs and down the hall to your room, where he’ll try his best to help you into bed without disturbing your slumber.
that will be the hard part.
he opens up your door, letting out a sigh of relief that it doesn’t creak, and brings you to your thankfully plushy bed. gently, peter moves a hand up to support your head so he can lay you down.
you unconsciously cuddle your pillow once peter sets your head on it. peter clutches a hand over his heart at the sight.
“so freaking cute,” he whispers to himself, giving you a moment to adjust before he gets you changed.
you’re still in your suit, which happens to be made of skin-tight latex. there’s no way peter is letting you sleep in that.
he doesn’t want to undress you without your consent, so he’ll have to do what he was hoping to avoid and wake you up. you won’t be particularly thrilled.
“y/n?” peter calls your name softly, kneeling next to you on the floor. “y/n, i need you for a sec. c’mon, baby.”
he traces a finger across your eyebrows that stayed knitted together. your lips form a pout.
“i know, i know. it’ll only be for a minute, then you can go right back to sleep,” peter coos and pecks your cheek once again. “gimme one minute.” “no,” you whine, rolling onto your side so you aren’t facing peter. “‘m so tired… leave me alone.”
your arm drapes over your eyes to cover them. peter bites back a smile and sets a hand on your waist.
“i’m just gonna get you in pajamas really quick. is that okay?” he explains, moving you onto your back. you crack open an eye and look up at him in the darkness. “whatever. time starts now.”
peter squeezes your waist affirmatively before making his way to your dresser, where he digs through your pajama drawer with speed. he retrieves an oversized tee and sleep shorts because you can never go wrong with those. padding back over to your bed, peter places the clothes down by the edge.
“you wanna change into these, or do you want me to do it for you?” he checks, already having his guess on what you’re going to say. “you do it, pete,” you confirm and shut your eyes.
with your permission, peter starts to search for a zipper on your suit. he trails a hand along your side and back, but can’t find one. he frowns in confusion.
“how do you take this thing off?” peter wonders. you were about to knock out again, then he spoke. “button,” you say shortly. that only adds to his confusion. “button? what button? you never told me you have a-“
annoyed, you grab peter’s hand and bring it to your stomach. “here! right here.” it’s located on the special symbol your suit dons. peter always wondered what that was doing there.
“like true stark tech,” he remarks, pressing the button to release you from the constricting material.
you shimmy around to get yourself out of the suit, mostly to no avail. your efforts at least earn a laugh from peter. “hang on, baby. let me.”
he tugs the suit where it starts to pool, slowly but surely peeling it off your body at last. seeing it more convenient to sleep commando, you beam at peter and lay back on your pillow.
“mm, goodnight,” you mumble, peter seizing your shoulders to stop you. “wait, wait, wait…” he crouches next to you a second time. “don’t you want your jammies?”
“don’t say jammies,” you playfully chastise, forcing yourself to look at peter. “but, yes. i guess i want them.” “super,” peter nods and reaches for your pajamas. his fingers twist in one of your bra straps.
“can i take this off?” he asks you. you’d make a comment about how much of a gentleman he is, if you had the energy. “be my guest,” you comply. peter easily unhooks your bra and slides the straps down your arms. after you toss it aside, you lift your arms for your shirt.
“impressive,” you tease his skills, unable to resist. “don’t act so surprised,” peter quips, shaking the t-shirt over your head. your hair is a mess when your head emerges from the hole, prompting him to ruffle your disheveled coils.
“we’re almost done, i promise,” peter assures you and goes to gather your shorts. no strategic ways to get them on you come to his mind. “um, you might have to stand up for this.”
you swat them out of his hands instead. “forget the shorts, peter,” you reprimand. “i wanna sleep, and i want you to hold me.” peter stands up, offering you a lopsided smile. “ok, ok. fine. how could i say no?” “you can’t,” you deadpan, laying down for the last and final time. “not to me.”
you pull back the covers for you both to get under, peter slipping out of his suit. he joins you in his boxers and nothing else. you’re never mad about that.
“did so amazing today, y/n/n. ‘m so lucky you’re my partner in crime,” peter hums, you nuzzling your face against his bare chest. his arms hug your waist, lips meeting the top of your head and spreading into a wide grin. you loop your own arms around his middle.
“i feel the same, pete. you’re my better half.”
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