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#tom holland fic
erule · a day ago
The Halloween party | t.h.
Pairing: Tom Holland x fem!reader
Summary: Tom wants you to go to a Halloween party with him, but you don’t dress up as the MJ to his Spider-Man.
Warnings: crack, fluff, a tiny spoiler from Wandavision, implied smut at the end (just a lil reference, nothing more!), reader and Tom are 18+ ofc
Word count: 271
A/N: Hello! Since yesterday I posted an angsty fic, today I wanted to write something cute for you. It’s spooky season, y’all!! 🎃👻 Let me know if you liked it. Enjoy! 🌙
Tags: @imawhoreforu​
Main Masterlist 
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[credit to whoever made the gif!]
“We’re not doing this”.
“Oh, we’re totally doing this, darling,” Tom says with a grin.
“You’re an idiot, Tom”.
“You still love me, though”.
“It’s not something I would bet on, if you force me to do this”.
“You still owe me. Remember that prank with Harry? Some parts of my body are still covered in paint. You’re doing this, whether you like it or not,” he says.
“Fine, but I’m not gonna dress up as MJ in front of Zendaya. I’m gonna surprise you”.
“Alright, darling, As long as you dress up, every character is fine by me” he says, giving you a kiss on your cheek. “See you tonight at the party. We’re gonna have fun”.
You smile at him while he’s going out, caressing the open door. I’m gonna have so much fun for sure, Tom.
When you arrive to the party, everybody turns to look at you, including Tom. He throws off his Spider-Man mask in order to look at you, astonished. You flicker your fingers, using a magic trick to show them some little red sparks on your fingertips. Jacob is shocked, while Tom, dressed up as Spider-Man, of course, still can’t believe it. You wink at him, then you come closer to him, while everybody’s dancing again.
“Do you like my costume?” You ask, certain that he couldn’t resist to Wanda’s red dress.
“Like? I fucking love your costume, darling. Damn!” He says, then he captures you in a passionate kiss. His voice sounds husky, when he whispers to your ear: “Can’t wait to rip this off you”.
Suddenly, Halloween has become your favourite festivity.
209 notes · View notes
tomhollandfics · 2 days ago
Meddle About - @lovewasted
perhaps tom doesn’t adore his family as much as he says he does
Stages Of Fatherhood - @lovewasted
you and tom are expecting your first child and he is super overprotective of you
All For Her - @screamholland
a single-dad bartender, a supportive best friend and their continuous, unrequited love noticed by his optimistic daughter - is it possible to break a heart they never knew they had?
You Deserve That - @mrs-hollandstan
the birth of your two little girls isn't as smooth sailings as one would hope
Baby Bump Chats - @wizkiddx
the story of your pregnancy through toms eyes
Mother's Day Sweetness - @reawritesthings
tom had another way to say thanks for bringing his children into the world
Misunderstanding - @heytherejulia
your daughter misses her dad but infinity war isn't the best idea to cheer her up
How Old Are You? - @erule
you and your son bump into your ex, the famous movie star tom holland - he finds out soon enough that he has got a son
Staying Right Here - @earthlyholland
family isn’t just blood - your first father’s day with tom proves that
Always & Forever - @dahliaspidey
a little fight spirals into a much bigger snowball
Birthday Boy - @hollandsosterfield
tom took a few days off between the filming of two movies to be home for your eldest son’s birthday
Mornings - @petersholland
what makes a great family? a great husband, two adorable girls, and one sweet little fella - what more could you ask for?
Help - @starboyholland
tom is finally back home with you and the baby, while you know your husband needs to rest up, you can’t parent a new born by yourself for much longer
Every Step Of The Way - @sunshinehollandd
you and tom are best friends, and you have been for as long as you can remember - after one night, everything changes, but, tom is by your side every step of the way
We Need Help - @sunshinehollandd
you and tom need help with your new baby and call nikki for help
Best Day - @thollands
tom spoils you the most as he could, including a homemade gift that him and his daughter both made
Family Portrait - @marvelousell
tom being proud of his daughter’s first drawing
Barbecue Night - @mysticalrambling
tom and you are invited to a barbecue night at his family’s house - the whole night is spent with jokes and fun, you all tease each other a lot and you love every moment spent with them
Dad Duties - @mysticalrambling
you are sick so tom takes care of you and the twins, harry and gemma - he spends the whole day with the kids and when you feel better, you both watch a movie with the kids and tessa
Arrival - @scarletspideyy
you go into labour with your ex-boyfriend by your side
I can't See It - @peterbenjiparker
tom and you go to your first check up after you found out you were pregnant
Sleepy Babies - @watchmegetobsessed
waking in the middle of the night you find your husband sleeping with your daughter in his arms
Family Of Four - @watchmegetobsessed
the first time tessa meets your and tom’s baby
Baby Pink - @fratboievans
tom teaches your daughter some dance skills before her first ballet class
June Twenty-First - @petersholland
it’s tom’s first time celebrating father’s day - only, he doesn’t even know he gets to celebrate it
Little Ballerina - @iguessweallcrazyithinktho
tom has been away for a 2 months and he wanted to surprise his baby - he decided to surprise her while she was in ballet class
Big Sister - @blissfulparker
tom telling his daughter that she’s gonna have a baby brother
Operation Valentines - @blissfulparker
when your daughter makes tom set up the perfect valentine day morning
Somewhat Breakfast In Bed - @spiderboytotherescue
you're pregnant - tom and your two children spend the morning making you breakfast in bed...somewhat
That's The One - @magical-canoe
you and tom publicly announce your pregnancy, with harry’s help
The Delivery - @soulspideys
while in atlanta for shooting, y/n is heavily pregnant with tom’s baby - pretty easy to guess what happens next
Baby - @kelieah
tom adores you feeding the beautiful child you two made
Beautiful - @kelieah
after receiving backlash about your post-pregnancy body, spider-man saves the day
An Unexpected Gift - @kelieah
tom gets an unforgettable and a long-awaited birthday gift
My Everything - @sailingintothenight
a sleepless night after your baby is born
His Little Girl - @farfromharry
tom’s not ready to let his little girl grow up - so he’s definitely not happy to be meeting her boyfriend
Sure, Mummy - @spacebarnes
you weren't ready for that word, but you loved every letter of it
Delicate - @justcallmehitgirl
you’re six months pregnant, and tom is your best friend who wants to help raise your baby after your ex left you - oh, and tom happens to be in love with you
Obsessed - @tomholland-fics
tom finds a way to be there for you and your newborn when you need him
Don't Be Stressed - @tomholland-fics
tom and his wife can’t decide on a name for their baby girl
Pregnancy Series - @mendespideys
as a youtuber, you always document your life, both good and bad. this, of course, includes the new chapter of your life that you are about to embark on with your husband tom
Hey, Kid - @midnightmorales
y/n goes to her first doctor’s appointment while tom is off filming
281 notes · View notes
luvhollands · a day ago
imagining bratty spoiled reader with older-rich tom? (short story)
includes: pet calling // daddy kink // 
Being Tom Holland’s wife was the best decision ever, although getting drunk and him finding you; flashing his diamond watch and expressining all the luxury he’ll shower you in if you became his, it sounded amazing at the time. That night he brought you back to his penthouse and fucked you all night, he made you quit your job, slid a fat ass rock on your finger and took his last night. It all happened suddenly but it didn’t take long for you to catch up on your new life, while he was at work making millions you went on many shoppings sprees - coming home with bags that practically dragged you along the floor, your nails and hair were done on the regular since Tom always took you to the fanciests of restruants. He was the best husband ever, did you ever mention his age? A little over forty. It honestly didn’t bother you - he didn’t change one bit, sure his hair had a few grey strands but that never made you love him any less. 
You had a yacht party planned for the night and all your dresses you had either was worn too much or just didn’t fit the theme, you were frustrated and needed to go shopping immediately. Tom was downstairs finishing up with clients and although he’d told you on many occassains not to bother him while he worked, you didn’t have much of any option. So you stomped all the way down the spiral stairs until your feet made contact with the two glass doors, you saw Tom sitting on his desk on the phone, his back turned towards the door. Without knocking your barged him; your husband glared at you, “I need a few outfit for my party tonight! I can’t wear this shit!” You threw the chanel dress on the floor, letting out a dramatic huff - crossing your arms. Tom raised a perfectly arched bow before hanging up the phone. “Princess? You know not to bother Daddy while he worked, yeah?” His accent was rich and a lot deeper, it made your thighs quiver. “No! You said we’d go out shopping! I need new heels and a few dresses!” Tom bit his bottom lip as he looked down at you, your throat went dry.
“You spoiled little brat!” You let out a brutal scream, begging your husband to slow down as he fucked you from behind, pounding into your guts as he degraded you for being so impaitent. “You just couldn’t wait, yeah? Bet you didn’t even w-want anything - just wanted my cock.” You whimpered, pushing back into his harsh movements; loving every way his dick split you open, “Look at me when I speak to you doll.” He gripped your chin - forcing your head back as you let out pathetic moans. “Such a mess you make.”
After you came atleast three times, he came inside you. Pulling his dress pants back up. “Now. As I was saying, go back to the room and cancel the yacht party. After I’m done with work I’ll come back to fuck you more.” He left you to get yourself cleaned up as you limped all the upstairs.
[i might be a little rusty but i’ve been busy, i appreciate all of you guys.]
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lsholland · 23 hours ago
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐈 - "𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠"
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Word count: 3.9k
Chapter I // Read this chapter on Wattpad.
tw: addictions (alcohol, drugs), swearing, disease, murder... (probably not suitable for minors)
genre: psychological thriller / suspense / drama
Synopsis: Tom Holland is Hollywood's #1 celebrity and is adored all around the world. But this rise to fame hasn't been easy for him. With fame comes his own demons: addiction issues, a relationship that's about to end and...he doesn't know it yet, but he's about to kill an innocent woman. How is he going to get through it?
A/n: Honestly I could have written 10k on this chapter. And whatever you think is going to happen next isn't. Trust me! I love this story so much and it's only the beginning. Pls let me know what you think of it!
Reblogs and comments are appreciated :)
Tom and his brother sit in the dark on his dirty sofa – the curtains are preventing the sun from coming in. They’re both embarrassed about the situation, they’ve never had this conversation before, but they can’t keep avoiding it anymore.
Tom curls his fingers together in quick movements, looking down at his shaky legs. His brother is looking at him in the eyes, trying to pierce the barrier he’s constructed over the years that pushes him away. Tom keeps his head down. He’s always considered Harry, and he’s ashamed not to be a role model anymore; his sibling now understands something in him is off, and it terrifies him. The room is so quiet Tom can only hear his lungs struggling to catch the small quantity of air he’s able to inhale.
Harry peers down at his sibling’s burnt arm and raises his right brow. Tom immediately notices and positions it behind his back to hide it.
“Will you tell me what happened?” Harry asks, breaking the dense and ponderous silence. “I don’t care about this GQ interview – you’re my brother, I can’t let you be like this” he adds forcing himself to remain calm. But his nerves are fragile, he’s on edge. He can’t keep watching his brother acting with such a self-destructive behaviour. It’s only been a couple of years he’s lived on his own, out of the family house, and he’s lost so much weight. His dull skin emphasises his hollow cheeks and dark circles; he’s even aging with prematurity, and the wrinkles around his eyes are one example.
Makeup displays another reality during the day, a false image. And his tendency to wear oversized clothes is a proof he’s aware of his physical deterioration. But if it really was a problem, people would notice, right?
Harry is worried for his brother but has never said anything so far. He’s always thought it was just a phase and that he’d get through it in just a matter of time. He now comes to the realisation it might be too late. It doesn’t just happen to other people.
“Fuck, Tom!” he bursts out in anger and gets up, walks towards him, and falls on his knees. “Will you tell me what the fuck’s happened to you?”
Tom keeps avoiding his gaze and turns his head to the side. His lips are sealed, shaking; he wants to tell him the truth but he’s apprehensive of his possible reactions. His tired eyes are blinking, and tears are streaming down his face. He wipes them off as soon as he feels the wet pearls of sad feelings caressing his dry skin.
Harry’s crying as well, in silence. He’s crying for help; he wants his brother to be healthy again. He wants to see him laughing and smiling and singing all the time like he used to; it’s been months since it last happened.
The Tom he used to know is disappearing and is being replaced by a soulless body. A body that’s ravaged by trivial matters, draining his life out.
“I . . . I fucked up” Tom’s voice quavers with pain. He finally glances at his brother and loses control. His face dramatically shifts. As the tears are flooding, he brings his hands to his temples and envelops his face with his crippled fingers. “I really did!” And he heavily falls on the floor. He grabs both his legs in a foetal position and sobs, eaten up with guilt. Harry takes his sadness in stride and strokes his brother’s hair with patience waiting for him to give details about the situation.
“I nearly killed a woman last night” Tom whimpers. “I wanted to go to Pryzm, and she came out of nowhere, she crashed against my car . . . I didn’t know what to do!”
“God, Tom—where is she?!”
Tom doesn’t reply. He is too afflicted by his traumatic experience. The tiredness, the pressure, the shame, and the depression will get the last of him.
“Let’s go to the hospital” Harry says as he gets up and reaches out to Tom to help him stand on his feet.
Tom nods and stays on the ground. He’d rather cry to death than face what he’s done to her.
“You didn’t leave her dead, did you?”
“I—I had no other choice—”
“YOU ALWAYS HAVE THE CHOICE!” Harry angrily shouts at Tom. He clenches his fist with rage and groans his exasperation out. His boiling blood is turning his face red, and his eyes darken as they meet Tom’s.
He’s never seen his brother this angry before and it’s horrifying.
A soft chill freezes his bones making it impossible for him to grab Harry’s arm as he walks away. As if Tom wasn’t alone in his body, as if he couldn’t control his actions anymore, as if he was just a passenger forced to watch the horrendous show his life had just become.
Harry reaches the front door and silently pivots. He glances at his brother lying on the floor, shivering, and sobbing, and so miserable in his gutlessness. And as he exits the house, he slams the door shut behind him.
The loud thud releases Tom from the grip of his own fears, like an unleashed dog. And it feels like a freefall from the top of a skyscraper. He can’t feel his body; he is so light, almost like a bird, but if he doesn’t react immediately, he’ll crash to the ground.
But what should he do now? He can’t let his brother leave to discover the harm he’s caused to this woman. He softly counts to ten to make his final decision; a trick his father taught him when he was younger to unlock his brain when he must make tough choices.
1, 2, 3 . . . If his brother goes there on his own, Tom will never be forgiven. 4, 5, 6 . . . But watching the result of his actions terrifies him. 7, 8, 9 . . . Now that Harry is involved, he can’t pretend this nightmare will just vanish. 10.
He needs to go with him.
Tom stands up and trips, his exhausted body can’t handle his weight anymore. He falls but his numb arms can’t protect his face that smashes against the wooden floor. He ignores the sharp pain, the blood streaming down his nose, the blurred vision; he stands up, struggling, and keeps going towards the front door. He faintly grabs the handle and puts his last bit of energy to pull it, as if his life depended on it.
“Harry!!!” his cracking voice shouts and echoes in his ears until he loses balance and falls against the wall.
Harry who’s already within a good walking distance hears his brother and turns around. He sees him with blood all over his shirt. Blood that wasn’t there when he left a minute ago. He peers around, luckily no one’s here to see the mess. He runs back to the front door and kneels to align with his sibling’s puffy face.
“I’ll come with you . . .” Tom whispers with half-shut eyes. “I want to right my wrong.”
Harry shows a soft grin and lifts his brother up in a gentle manner. He walks him towards the house with small slow steps. He needs a hot shower, a decent meal and strong emotional support to survive today.
Tom’s arm is curled around Harry’s shoulders, his feet dragging, and blood dripping on the floor, making a murderous path on the front garden. Tom intensely watches his brother and gives a soft smile; he’s feeling hopeful for the first time in months. He is going to get better after all . . .
Or maybe not.
The sound of a cracking leaf coming through Harry’s ears makes him startle. He abruptly pivots towards that noise around and sees a man with a camera in his hands.
“Shit!” he hisses. “Fuck off!” he shouts at the paparazzi and accelerates his pace despite Tom’s pain.
The man approaches and tries to take more pictures, but Harry makes sure to hide Tom’s face with his body. The blood on the floor however doesn’t lie, and he’s aware of it. Although the clicking sound of the camera is far away behind them, Harry knows the guy has been able to capture Tom’s bloody face.
When they finally get in the house, Harry locks the door behind him and stares into space. His mind is elsewhere, imagining all the possible consequences of these pictures being published. He must find ways to stop them from being revealed to the public. But his concerns are now with Tom who’s using the wall to support his weak body. He’s so pathetic it’s difficult not to feel pity.
“Let me see your nose” says Harry inspecting his brother’s face. He grabs a towel on the kitchen shelf and uses it to soak up the blood. “Yeah, it’s definitely broken.”
“Not sure GQ will appreciate that” Tom answers with a grin on his face.
Harry smiles back. The situation is so disastrous and embarrassing it’s become funny for them both. They need to let go of their nervousness even if it means laughing about the heart-breaking situation. What could possibly be worse?
It takes about half an hour for Tom to take a shower and dress up. Harry is cooking lunch for him whilst he’s getting ready. He’s never been that good a cook but it’s a way for him to be busy and not to overthink the situation. He’s trying to help his brother out, and Tom surely doesn’t need any additional stress. But he has so many questions . . . So many uncertainties; so many scenarios playing in his head and he can’t differentiate what’s real from what’s not.
Tom gets down the stairs wearing a black hoodie, blue jeans, and his favourite trainers. The long sleeves hide well his burnt forearm, but his nose is still too visible. Harry decides to ignore it for a minute and gives him his food.
“Eat before it’s cold”
Tom avoids looking at his sibling and grabs a spoon to eat the rice. It would be expected of him to gulp down his food, but he doesn’t. He’s not hungry. He only eats because he needs it to survive. Or because his brother is here watching him. He glances at the fridge and unintentionally shakes his spoon trying to think of something else. There is no beer in the fridge, he finished them last night. Last night when he almost killed that innocent soul. Last night when it was the one glass too many.
Harry notices his obsessive behaviour – his urge to swallow a sip of liquor. He can almost picture the intrusive thoughts going in Tom’s head and hauling him down to the dark abyss. The whispers of these undesirable voices are causing him distress. It’s tearing Harry’s heart apart to see his addict brother act this way. But what got him so broken? It can’t be the fame; it can’t be his notoriety that destroyed him. He’s supposed to be the happiest person on earth instead . . .
“Before we leave, we’ve gotta do something about this” Harry says pointing at Tom’s face. He grabs his baseball cap and hands it to him. “Better keep a low profile.”
Tom presses his lips together and places it on his head. “Thanks.”
“Let’s go see if she—you know . . .” Harry stutters.
He scans the exterior through the curtains to check if the paparazzi is still around. The street is so quiet he can hear the leaves scratching the ground as they fall from their tree. Harry steps back and pulls the car keys out of his jeans’ front pocket.
The drive to the hospital is made in silence. The tension is so heavy it electrifies everything around them like a lightning bolt when it’s about to hit the surface, and seconds appear to be minutes. A simple glance would jolt them. The radio is turned off, they can barely hear the tyres rubbing against the asphalt; it’s leaving them with their thoughts as the only sound in their head, and it’s particularly difficult for Tom. As he observes the steering wheel, hidden voices describe horrible scenarios that could happen in the hospital. And these voices are so soft, so mesmerising that anyone would believe them. Their charisma is based on psychological aggression and constant fear, and Tom lets them pave their way in his brain. Because he’s just a man.
He’s quickly emerged out of his universe when Harry opens the door and leaves the car. Tom is much slower than his brother and makes sure to take all the time he needs before exiting the parking lot. His pace is slow, he walks with short, light steps, almost looking like a phantom. Harry waits for him in front of the lift but doesn’t bother looking at him. He’s too anxious about the fate of this unknown woman, and the potential consequences on his family – because not only Tom would suffer from his mistake, but his whole family would go down with him too.
When they enter the lift, Tom scrutinises his face in the mirror and notices his purple, swollen nose and the several scratches on his jaws. He grabs the bill of his grey cap and pulls it down in a poor attempt to be undercover.
The doors open and a brouhaha blows Tom away. His brother walks out of the lift, but he can’t move. He’s paralysed, contemplating the nurses walking around in white uniforms, the doctors delivering news to a patient’s family. And he squints his eyes as the white lights burn his retina. It is so bright he feels wobbly and struggles to breathe. His chest is oppressing his lungs, and his throat tightens, allowing less and less air to travel. He coughs with his right hand pressing against the wall to give him balance, and the other one assisting his chest. He’s going to die here and now. His vision gets blurry and—
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Harry whispers grabbing his brother’s shoulder.
Tom looks at him in distress, eyes wide open, and not able to pronounce a word. He’s having a panic attack.
“Come ‘ere,” Harry says pointing to the waiting area. “Have a seat, I’ll be right back.”
He makes sure his brother finds a seat before joining the main counter. All Tom can see is a blurred silhouette talking, and waiving, and walking in circles, presumably angry. And it lasts for a couple of minutes. All he hears is a tinnitus that envelops him away from the rest of the world until Harry comes back.
“Please, stay here Tom” Harry whispers. “I had to pretend I was her brother—I can’t believe no one came for her yet!”
And within the snap of a finger, he’s back to reality.
“No!” Tom grips Harry’s hand as soon as he steps back. “Don’t leave me here alone, please don’t do that.”
Harry sighs and swivels towards the nurse holding her pager, waiting for him. He runs his hand through his hair while approaching her.
“It’s my cousin, he knows her too. Could he please come with me? It’s not gonna take long I promise”
The nurse squints at Tom, she keeps looking at him until he meets her eyes. And she frowns her eyebrows in return.
“Is he alright?” she asks Harry.
“Is he—Oh yeah, he . . . He loves her and when he heard about it, he—he fell.”
Harry closes his eyes and sighs releasing his irritation. How could he be so bad at lying? He’s always been the cold headed one, and for the first time ever, when the stakes are so high, he’s unable to perform an act.
The nurse smirks and nods a yes. He can come too.
Harry’s just about to call Tom but discovers him surrounded by two young girls who seem to look at him like an alien. And Tom tries to hide his face with his cap, he’s sitting there petrified like a kid who’s lost his parents in a park.
“Oh my God, you’re Tom Holland, aren’t you?” says one of the girls. She has a bright smile on her face but waits for him to confirm. Because he looks so different from the pictures.
Tom doesn’t move, he doesn’t even acknowledge them. He prays for them to leave when they’ll be tired of him ignoring them. But they keep watching him.
Harry comes rescuing his brother by gripping his arm. They’re walking towards the nurse, but the fans start yelling in their back.
“Yeah, I told you it’s definitely them! Oh my God!” answers the other one.
Tom turns his face and looks at them before flying away with Harry and the nurse. They’re taking videos with their phones. And now it’s clear for him; he hates them so much. He hates his fame, his celebrity, his exposure to the entire world. What he thought would be amazing, to be known and renowned, is now a burden.
For a minute, he makes a wish; he prays God (and he didn’t know he believed in any God-figure until today) and begs Him for mercy. He places the palm of his hands facing the ceiling hoping he’ll be given strength. By the time he’s done, he’s in front of the room 403. Her room.
“You have 10 minutes, be concise” says the nurse before leaving.
Harry grabs Tom’s hand and helps him get in the room. For Tom, it feels like venturing into the devil’s lair. His body is screaming ‘get me out of here’ but Harry’s gentle hand forces him to enter the room without a word.
And there she is. Lying on her hospital bed, eyes closed, with a pale face, a broken nose, and cuts on her lips. Half of her face is covered with bruises. She has long black curly hair and a tattoo on her left forearm. Tom and Harry stand next to the door and observe her, speechless. She looks bad.
“At least she’s alive” Harry breaks the silence. “Maybe we should let her rest and come back when she wakes up”
“Can you give me 5 minutes with her?” Tom asks.
“Yeah, sure” Harry says and opens the door to leave.
“Harry, wait!” Tom adds. “Thank you for this. I know you don’t have to . . . It really means a lot.”
“You’re my family” he answers with a soft grin.
“But still. I owe you an apology”
“That’s where you’re wrong. We’re always a family. I will always come for you no matter the cost”
These words bring Tom strong emotions. It’s difficult for him to understand what it exactly is. It is warm, intense, and particularly pleasing. As his breathing picks up, he gives Harry a tight-lipped smile and enfolds him in his arms.
“I love you” the eldest says.
Harry shyly smiles and breaks the hug, then sneaks out of the room. Tom walks towards the bed and stands in front of the injured woman, wondering what she might be dreaming about. Or if it’s all black in her mind.
He takes off his cap and places it on the bed, next to her arm. He catches a glimpse of something written on her hospital bracelet. He grabs it and pulls her wrist closer to his face to read the label.
“Lauren Avery Pearson . . .” he whispers with a soft smile. A pure and delicate smile that shapes his face like the one of a kid seeing snow for the first time.
But he cries. He cries without a sound, still holding her wrist and taking her hand and curling his fingers around hers. He doesn’t know her, but he wishes he did. He wishes she could’ve been spared. He pulls her hand to his mouth and kisses it and then places it on his chest, close to his heart. He is so sorry for what he’s done to her. Remorse is a terrible feeling to have.
“I wish I could have stopped you, Lauren. Stopped you from driving so fast, stopped you from being around me at this time . . . I wish I had known, Lauren. I wish I could go back in time and change this. All of this. I wish I could be happier. And maybe meet you another way. I’m sure you’re an amazing person” he pauses to sob.
His face is just above hers; he scans her features hoping for her to wake up. But she doesn’t.
“I bet you have many talents. You must be a good cook, or a great singer, or maybe even an amazing football player. But not better than I am, because I’m very good, you know. I’m sure you wouldn’t let me beat you though. You’d fight until it’s a tie. And I’d let you win because you’re amazing.”
He wipes his tears off.
“And—And I know you love your husband. And I’m so sorry for him, and for you, I’m so sorry. I wish you could forgive me.”
He releases her hand and places it on the bed. He makes sure to be gentle, so she won’t feel any pain.
“I wish it could be me instead of you” he adds before getting his cap back and leaving the room.
The emotions are too strong for him to cope with them. He can’t handle such a thing. He can’t handle having so much remorse, shame, and sadness at once.
Harry joins him and they both silently walk out of the hospital. They’re headed home.
He drops Tom off in front of his house and looks at him in pain. He wants to say something, but he knows his brother is on the edge. If he adds anything, he might break down and he doesn’t want to see this.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, take care brother.” Harry says when Tom opens the car door.
And he drags his feet on the front garden and sees drops of his blood on the ground, cruel reminders of his past actions. He closes the door behind him and falls on his settee. He can only think about two things: the biggest mistake of his life and quenching his thirst.
He clenches his fists and tries to resist to the urge of drinking. This visceral need that shakes his entire body and poisons his mind. He squeezes his eyes as if it would help him not to think about the refreshing taste of a shot of vodka. As if it would make him forget about all the muscles cramping in his body. He’s agitated, can’t stay still; he could run 15 miles just to grab a bottle. He’s feverish and has a terrible headache.
He’s showing early signs of withdrawal, but he can’t expect to beat his demons on his own. Especially not in a situation like this.
He opens his food delivery app and orders from the closest liquor store in just a few clicks. He only realises he’s done something bad when the delivery guy knocks. He grabs the bottle and shuts the door. He feels discomfort and indignity, but this bottle of Absolut vodka will help him wipe everything away until he is happy again.
Thank you for reading! I hope you liked the chapter.
So, what do you think of it? What's your take on Tom's mental health?
Please reblog and follow me to show your support, I would really appreciate it.
Next chapter will be posted soon...what do you think's going to happen?
♡ taglist: @hollandvibesss @nrvousxo @aaralynrae @slut-for-steve-rogers @jamesyrobin @themwordsblog @zacky-way (please like this post to be in the tag list)
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t-lostinworlds · 3 months ago
Torn Leaves, Broken Hearts (Tom Holland)
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A/N: did anyone order some heartache? no? oh, well...anyways. i genuinely did think this idea would be a quick snap and go it is 24 days later lol. i felt quite emotional writing this but i’m a bit unsure if it will be as heartbreaking for others as it was for me a.k.a if i successfully managed to translate the hurt i actually felt into words. lmao is it obvious i’m not too sure about this fic?? anyhow, i hope you guys still enjoy! ++ trying a slightly new format! is the small text difficult to read?? pls lemme know! <3
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》 PAIRING: tom holland x female!reader 》 TROPE/GENRE: established relationship; fluff; angst 》 SUMMARY: most couples fight, you and Tom weren't an exception. It started out as an argument, but when Tom lost control of his temper, he just took it a leap too far. 》 WARNINGS: starts very fluffy, loads of plants & planting, few sexual innuendos, soft!supportive!boyfriend!tom, heated make out (very brief), glimpse of carpenter!tom, argument/fight, angry!tom (not in a hot way), temper tantrum (not in a cute way), talks of golf, use of golf club (not in a good way) [i’m sorry in advance, i love golf!tom i promise], emotional/mental breakdown, heartbreaking angst (will vary per person aha), happy/emotional/resolved ending. 》 WORD COUNT: 18.3k+ (at least 5k she said ha what a lie)
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⊱ ─────.⋅♚ *。・゚.★. *。・゚✫*.
"Darling, I'm home!" Tom announced, placing his golf equipment down by the door to then toeing off his shoes. Treading deeper into the house in his sock-clad feet, his brows furrowed, wondering if you, yourself had arrived from work. "Love, you home?"
Tom found you exactly where you said you were, but he was more surprised with the pop of various colors littered on the countertop. He took in the scent that greeted his nostrils, the whole kitchen smelling sweet, a bit citrusy, but all-around fruity.
"Whatcha doin, beautiful?" Tom murmured as he slotted himself behind you, arms snaking around your waist as he placed a tender kiss on your cheek.
You turned your head to look at him with an adorable pout, making Tom chuckle. Gladly obliging to your request, he leaned in for a kiss with a satisfied hum, heart softening, smile widening at the newfound flavor present on your lips.
You tasted like apples.
After relishing it for a couple of seconds more—pecking your lips playfully until he was satisfied with the giggles you were emitting—Tom pulled away. He rested his chin on your shoulder, loosening his hold around you a little so you could move freely. He gave your waist a light squeeze, signaling you to resume what you were doing before he interrupted.
Tom observed as you cut up an apple carefully, taking out the seeds and placing them in a bowl filled with water right beside the cutting board.
"I stumbled on this video the other day about how it's quite easy to grow plants from the seeds of a fruit, even when it's from the supermarket," you explained, proceeding to remove the apple seeds that were floating above the water. "And I don't know, I guess I just wanted to try it out and see if I could do it, too."
"So that's why you've got the whole fruit section in our kitchen," Tom teased, eyes scanning the few fruits that were present, some already cut up while some were still whole.
There were oranges, lemons, mangoes, avocados, apples, and a huge watermelon. The oranges were already cut in wedges, same with the lemons, too. Their respective seeds were placed in a bowl with a piece of paper underneath, your writing scribbled onto it to indicate which seed was what. It was quite adorable how you had everything organized.
"Shut up. It's just a couple of fruits," you scoffed with a roll of your eyes, playfully nudging his stomach with your elbow. He only laughed in response. After a few seconds of silence, you asked, "How was your day?"
"Pretty great, actually," Tom hummed, placing soft kisses on the side of your neck before he added, "Even better with some apples."
You laughed, nodding as you offered him a slice. Tom took the fruit from your fingers with his lips, never letting his hands go anywhere else but on the warm skin of your stomach as he slipped them under your shirt.
"Had a great round?" you wondered, bringing the same fingers up to your mouth before you suckled off the apple juice that's coated your fingertips. Tom had no clue if you were doing it on purpose, or if you were completely oblivious to the fact that the simple action could turn him on in more ways than he anticipated.
"Yup," Tom said with his mouth full, shifting in his place, swallowing the fruit before he added, "Got a hole in one, too. Wish you were there to see it, though."
Despite not knowing much about golf, never did you fail to show him support with his love for it throughout. Besides that, you were interested in the sport enough to come along whenever you could, Tom teaching you a thing or two every time you're in the course with him. But sometimes, your schedules simply don't coincide given that he does have more free time than you when he's back home.
"I don't need to see to know that you were amazing. Especially with that hole in one," you hummed. You were still focused on your task at hand, but the playfulness was obvious in your tone when you added, "You do have great accuracy, can't deny that."
"Are we still talking about golf?" he murmured, smirk in full play and he didn't need to see it to know that you were rolling your eyes at him. "But, whichever you meant, thank you, darling."
"Love getting your ego stroked sometimes, don't you?"
"No, no, no." Tom shook his head in slight denial. "I do love getting something else stroked though. Especially with those lovely fingers," he drawled against your ear, tracing his fingers up and down your waist in long, slow motions.
"Tom!" you gasped, turning to look at him with a rather stern, almost chastising face when you added, "Are you serious? Right in front of my fruit salad?"
"You're unbelievable," Tom grumbled with a pointed eye-roll at your somewhat, quotation of that meme. You erupted in heaps of laughter in response, the lovely sound tugging the corner of his lips upwards. "Now, what can I do to help? Or would you rather me distract you more with...other things," he hummed, dipping his head to place open-mouth kisses on the exposed skin of your neck. Voice lowering a few octaves, he added, "Because I really do want to distract you with other things."
You giggled softly, your fingers finding their way into his hair as you tilted your head to the side to give him more access. "Well, since you offered," you trailed off, your honey-toned voice making Tom's skin tingle, making him excited. That until you escaped his grasp, pulled a knife from one of the drawers, and pushed the green, striped fruit towards him with a wide smile. "Cut this watermelon up, please? And be careful not to cut too many seeds in half."
Taking the knife from your hands with a shake of his head, Tom sighed in pure amusement, "Yes, ma'am."
Just as he was about to begin cutting the fruit, you made your way behind him. He followed your movements carefully through his peripheral, a low hum escaping his lips when your fingers ran up his chest, your front pressed against his back.
You gave his clothed shoulder a feather-like kiss, moving even closer as you purred, "And then after, I'd like to know more about these other things you were going to distract me with."
"Oh—" Tom's breath hitched, your warm lips finding their way on that specific spot just below his ear, suckling on it gently, earning a low groan from him. "Yes, ma'am."
As the weeks went by, you had been persistent in making sure you were taking great care of the seeds that you stored in various places.
You had the avocado seeds suspended with the use of toothpicks in plastic cups. It was filled with water that covered half the seed, all of them situated by the kitchen backdoor because, 'They need sunlight, but not too harsh sunlight,' was your words.
The others were placed in damp paper towels, stored in respective Ziploc bags which can be found around the kitchen. The watermelon, mango, orange, and lemon seeds were in this cupboard near the oven while the apples were in the fridge. As you explained, some of the seeds like it warm while some like it a bit cooler.
It was genuinely endearing the way you made sure that each seeds' needs were rightfully met. Not to mention, the way you thoroughly kept an eye on them for you not to miss if the water of the avocados were needed changing, or if the paper towels had gotten slightly dry.
Tom could see that you were truly passionate about this newfound hobby of yours, and he was deeply hoping that results would show sooner. He really didn't want to see the heartbreak and disappointment that would cover your face if it was otherwise.
"Tom! Tom!"
"What, what," he rushed, making his way into the kitchen to find you squatted down in front of the apple box—the one he found for you a couple of days ago—where the avocados were now perched, an upgrade from their previous place on the floor.
"Look!" You stood up to your full height, one plastic cup held carefully in your hand as you brought it in his line of sight. "The avocados have cracked!"
"That's amazing, love," Tom hummed, eyes cast on the little split on the avocado for only a second as his gaze quickly landed on that beautiful smile playing on your lips.
"Wait let me check the—'' You rushed to place the avocado back before checking your other group of seeds, a gasp followed by that sweet laugh—one he absolutely loves hearing—echoing around the kitchen as you went over all of them. "Look at their tiny little roots!" you exclaimed as Tom walked over to you, showing him the inside of the Ziploc bag which held a couple of seeds that already had short white roots emerging out of them.
Tom felt his heart melt ten times over, simply seeing that bright, excited smile that adorned your face. Added with the utter joy laced in your tone, it was more than enough to make him be absolutely smitten with you as if he wasn't smitten enough already.
You placed the seeds back to their rightful places, turning to Tom with that smile that never did waver, even in the slightest.
Tom matched your grin, walking closer to you until he was able to wrap his arms around your waist. "You're so adorable you know that?" he gushed, nudging the tip of his nose with yours which made your grin grow shyer but glow brighter. "I love seeing that gorgeous smile of yours."
"I'm just really glad it actually worked," you sighed, leaning closer for a tender yet sweet kiss. Your happiness was exuding out of you, your smile obvious against his lips and his heart could only soar. Tom could feel it wash over him with such warmth that he couldn't stop his own grin from widening by a mile.
"I know, and I'm glad it did too," he hummed, pulling away a few seconds later. Tom cupped your face tenderly with both hands, thumbs running over the corners of your lips that were both upturned. "It makes my heart flutter every time I see you happy, my love."
Tom was sure he had a love-struck smirk on his face the whole time he pushed the cart. He was following you around as you trod down the whole gardening section in the supermarket.
It was quite a lovely sight to see you read each label thoroughly, making sure that you were picking out the right garden soil and pots for your two-month-old seeds. Tom swore he felt his heart leap out of his chest when he saw you be so excited the moment you found those mini shovels you were quick to fall in love with.
Now, you had a little crinkle between your brows, lips pursed as you softly mumbled out the ingredients and nutrients of this compost you were getting. You had your phone in one hand, checking twice if what was written on this sack was good for your newly grown plants.
It was so damn adorable, and he wanted nothing more than to pull you in his arms and kiss the living daylights out of you. He would've already but he didn't want to disturb your cute state, so he decided to just stay back and admire. It wasn't until you spoke did Tom realize that you had already caught him staring.
He blinked before his smile turned softer, head tilted to the side as he breathed out, "Nothing."
"You're bored aren't you?" you asked, a small frown appearing on your lips as you walked over to him with the bag of compost in your hand and placing it in the cart. "Am I taking so long?"
"Of course not, I'm quite enjoying myself actually. I've got a very gorgeous and adorable view," he admitted shamelessly, but your little frown didn't go anywhere. Tom sighed. He took your hand in his, squeezing it reassuringly as he added. "And no, take as much time as you need, love. I adore seeing you be so meticulous when it comes to your plants."
"Really? Is it not too much?" you asked, voice turning shy as you tilted your head at him.
Tom saw the slight insecurity that appeared in your eyes, his brows furrowing at your sudden change in demeanor. "Never, darling," he said with utmost honesty. "Being passionate about something, no matter how mundane it may seem, is never too much. That includes your love for your little plants."
You smiled softly without another word. Instead, your fingers found their way onto his cheek, his touch soft as you leaned closer to press your lips against his.
Tom hummed in satisfaction, grin widening as his heart swelled. He didn't need any more words. He could feel it in your kiss that you were grateful for him. And that itself will always fill him up with joy without fail.
After lunch, you immediately made your way to the yard to get moving with your agenda for the rest of the day: transferring your seeds to their respective pots of soil.
Tom had just gotten off an important call when he decided to take a peek at his girlfriend. Arms crossed over his chest, a smirk plastered all over his face, he leaned against the door frame of the backdoor, eyes trained on the beautiful woman that he's so goddamn lucky he gets to call his.
The sun was high and bright on the clear blue sky, the air warm, tiptoeing to being somewhat hot. It was the perfect time to do a bit of gardening, and of course, you seized the moment at its best. So here you were in the backyard, sitting on this small chair under the blaring sun, a blue bandana on your head in an attempt to keep your hair back.
Tom couldn't stop his grin from growing as he ogled at you for a moment.
You were adorable and hot, not either-or, but both at the same time. You simply wore a dark blue tank top and some denim shorts, skin glistening under the afternoon rays in a way that Tom craved to litter it with kisses laced with praise because damn, you were gorgeous.
But then he caught a glimpse of the pink, flower-printed gardening gloves that covered both your hands, the mini shovel curled in your fingers as you gradually filled up each pot with soil. That cute furrow in your brows was present as you carefully placed the seed in one by one. And his heart could do nothing more but swell at how endearing the image was.
You were making him feel a plethora of emotions, different from one second to the next, and honestly, Tom couldn't complain. It was a whiplash he welcomed wholeheartedly.
With a deep exhale, you brought your forearms to your forehead, wiping away the sweat that coated your skin. It was when Tom decided that he at least had to lend a helping hand rather than just stare at you the whole time. And best believe he could do the latter with no problems at all.
Retreating inside, he took a clean, cotton towel from the closet drawers, moving to the kitchen after to get you a cold glass of water before venturing out into the yard to where you were sitting.
Your head lifted at the sound of his footsteps growing nearer, your smile widening as you locked eyes with him.
"Hey there, gorgeous," Tom hummed, crouching down to be level with you, giving you a quick peck on the lips before handing you the water. After you took a drink, he placed his fingers under your chin, bringing the towel up with his other hand and dabbing away the sweat that kissed your face.
"Thank you," you giggled, scrunching up your nose to which Tom couldn't resist and place a soft kiss there as well. You resumed what you were doing as you gave him back the glass of water. He stood back up his full height, squinting as he looked up at the sky before they landed back on you with a subtle frown on his lips.
"It's not good to stay far too long under the sun, darling," Tom said, moving in his place to use his body as a shield from the bright glare, giving your eyes a break from squinting up at him. You'd been out here for over an hour now. While some sun won't hurt, having too much of it can be quite harmful, same with everything else.
"I'm fine, bub, it's only for today," you said, smile still present and not at all bothered by the scorching rays.
He pursed his lips, tilting his head at you before an idea came to his mind. "You know what, I'll go grab a chair and sit here with an umbrella."
"Too late," he quipped, placing the glass beside you before rushing back inside to find a stool. He then took one of those deep black umbrellas that were kept by the door. He came back out with a grin, situating himself beside you. He opened up the umbrella, angling it rightly to give you some much-needed shade. He draped the towel over his lap, taking the water back in his hands and sat there proudly. You merely flashed him a pout. Tom chuckled, "I enjoy watching you work. So, I'll be your gardening assistant for today, ma'am."
You looked at him with a frown, eyes holding that same insecurity again, the one that glowed briefly back in the supermarket.
"Thank you for putting up with me," you breathed out, gesturing towards your pots before adding, "And this."
"Nothing to thank me for since I'm not putting up with anything," Tom said, thumb reaching over to wipe away the speckle of dirt on your cheek and the tip of your nose. His palm then cupped your face, eyes locked with yours for you to see his sincerity. "Trust me when I say, seeing you be so excited over something you're passionate about and seeing you be so happy, it's greatly rewarding on my part, too."
And Tom meant every word, even when sometimes you almost gave him a heart attack...
The sharp shrill of your voice had Tom up on his feet in no time. He rushed out to the backyard, sheer worry written on his face until he found you standing in front of your plants, completely and utterly fine.
"A tiny sprout just came out," you said with a wide grin, pointing at the pot that was right in front of you.
"Fucking hell—you need to stop screaming so suddenly, love," he breathed out, his palm right over his heart as he shook his head at you. "I thought you had an accident or something," he explained, walking closer to where you were standing.
"I'm sorry," you said sheepishly, reaching for him with an open palm to which he gladly slipped his hand in. "There's a little sprout on the pot," you repeated, this time, in a whisper which made him shake his head with a chuckle. Giving you a quick peck on the lips, he cast his eyes on the pot you were pointing at.
"Wow, would you look at that," he said, catching sight of the littlest sprout that emerged out of the soil. Tom pulled you in his embrace, love-filled eyes locking with yours. "You're amazing, you know that? And I'm so proud of you, darling."
...or even when it interrupted the mood for a bit.
Tom groaned lowly as you pressed yourself down, legs on either side of him as you sat on his lap, grinding on him slowly but lusciously. His hands gripped your waist tightly, his hips meeting your movements as he rested his head against the back of the couch, giving your fervent lips more access to leave as many marks as you pleased over his stretched-out neck.
He pushed his hands upwards, your shirt bunching around his wrist as he teasingly ran his thumbs just below the swell of your bare breast. You let out a soft whine, Tom responding with a low chuckle at your utmost neediness.
Just as he was about to pull the shirt over your head, the sky rumbled, the harsh pitter-patter of heavy raindrops hitting the roof following soon after.
You immediately pulled away from him with wide eyes, not giving Tom even a second to recollect himself when you so suddenly got off him, ran towards the backdoor, and made your way out.
"Love, wait!" He attempted to follow until you held up a palm to stop him. You continued your way down the backyard to where your plants were located. Running a hand through his hair, Tom called out, "You should've brought an umbrella, darling!"
"It's okay! You stay there! I've got this!" you yelled over the heavy rain. Your body was getting soaked with each ticking second as you hurriedly yet carefully pulled the tarp you had at the ready—in case something like this happened—over your rows of seedlings.
He shook his head with a sigh, running to your shared bedroom to get you some towels. When he got back, you were already by the open door, teeth chattering, arms wrapped around your body in a poor attempt to keep yourself warm.
Tom looked at you disapprovingly, wrapping one towel around your shaking form before pulling you back inside.
"T-They we're g-going to drown if I left them o-out too long u-under the r-rain," you reasoned, merely flashing him a cute but guilty pout.
"I honestly don't know if I should scold you right now, or kiss the living daylights out of that adorable face," he grumbled, putting another towel over your wet hair. "Come on. Let's get you dried up before you catch a cold."
"I think I need to take a hot shower," you said, pecking his lips as a form of 'thank you' before you trod down the hall. Before you could disappear, you stopped and looked at him over your shoulder, a sly smile appearing on your lips as you added, "You can join, if you want."
Tom grinned at that. "Don't mind if I do," he drawled, your squeals and laughs bouncing off the walls as he ran after you.
You weren't sure if the bright glare of the morning sun was what woke you up, or if it was the constant hammer banging on wood, which you assumed was coming from your backyard.
A sigh escaped you, matched with an eye roll as your gaze landed on the unclosed curtain by Tom's side of the room. Your man had always been unable to close the curtains without a bit of a reminder, so if you so happened to forget to do so, best believe it stays open.
It's an ongoing habit of his, one that's partly annoying, partly endearing. Annoying because most of the time, you find yourself waking up a little too early than you're supposed to. Endearing because, well, solely because of the cute pout and puppy eyes you're met the second you stir awake and turn to Tom with a knowing look.
Speaking of, you checked the time on your phone, you furrowed your brows at the empty spot beside you. It merely just reached 8 AM, yet your man was already nowhere to be found. It made you a little concerned. That until the hammering continued again, and if you weren't sure before, you were now. It definitely was coming from your backyard.
Curious, you went downstairs to see what the commotion was about, and you were more than glad to catch him right on the act, doing this thing he did on a rarity whenever he had some free time.
Tom was shirtless, let's start there. He had his white t-shirt tucked in the waistband of basketball shorts, the fabric swishing behind him with each movement he made. Said shorts were hanging a little too low at his hips, but you weren't at all complaining. It was giving you a nice glimpse of his V-line, one you'll never get used to seeing no matter what. A cap put on backwards sat atop his head, hiding those unruly curls you've grown to adore and more. There was a pencil placed between his lips, his brows furrowed in concentration as he hammered down the nail into the wooden board, biceps flexing with purpose every time he did so.
Oh, what a sight for sore eyes seeing your man in action. It was one gorgeous view to see first thing this fine morning. You love seeing Tom put his carpentry skills to use, it's quite endearing and hot at the same time.
"I was wondering where you went this early," you said as you walked over to him. Tom so suddenly scrambled to his feet, a look of pure surprise crossing his face which only made you furrow your brows at him. Not thinking much of it, you asked, "Have you eaten yet, bub?"
"Yeah, I had cereal. And I started early because well..." Tom trailed off, pout in full play as he moved to the side. "I wanted to surprise you."
"With what?" You looked behind him. Too busy ogling at your man—honestly, you couldn't blame yourself—you finally caught sight of what he was busy with. As realization slowly filled your brain, your heart stopped. "Is that—"
"Mhmm, your state-of-the-art, very original, made with love of the highest quality, plant rack or plant display, whatever you want to call it," Tom answered proudly, hand out for you to take to which you gladly did.
"I—how, why?" you stammered, looking at him, then at his project, and then back at him with nothing but utter amazement on your face.
Tom shrugged with a chuckle, him kissing the tip of your nose before he hummed, "I wanted to build them a proper place of their own."
He pulled you closer to his side, wrapping an arm around your waist as he gestured around his project with the hammer he had on his other hand. "I made it staircase-style so that you can see each plant on display, and that nothing gets overshadowed when their leaves start to grow bigger." When he gestured to the side, you caught sight of more wood along with what seemed to be a clear roof. "The guy at the hardware store suggested I get this transparent roof so that they're still getting some sun but it won't be too much whenever it gets hot out," Tom confirmed your thoughts.
You felt your heart burst at the seams, tears prickling in your eyes as you looked at Tom with nothing but utmost gratitude and adoration all over your features.
"Aww, darling, don't cry," he cooed, carefully dropping the hammer before he pulled you into his embrace, kissing your temple softly. You wrapped your arms around his waist with a shaky breath, nuzzling your face on the crook of his neck as you basked in his warmth.
There had been a lingering thought in the back of your head that maybe he'd find it silly and stupid the way you were fussing about plants now. Even you, yourself had your doubts, thinking that maybe it was mundane and maybe it was best to find "better" stuff to do. But his constant show of support, his never-ending encouragement and praise were quick to shut those thoughts down.
And he's right, no matter how mundane planting may seem, you love and enjoy it, you're passionate about it, and that's the most important thing to remember, the only thing you need to keep it going.
Still, seeing Tom put in the effort so he could show you the best of his support filled your heart with gratitude, melted every fiber of your being into a puddle of wonderful emotions from love, gratification, and joy.
"You know you didn't have to," you said once you pulled away, pouting at him as you tried your best to keep your tears at bay.
"I know, but I wanted to," he hummed, pecking your lips swiftly before flashing you a bright grin. "At least your little plants have their own little home, and so next time, you don't have to worry when it suddenly rains or if they’re getting too harsh sun."
"No more running out into the rain, gotcha," you teased with a giggle.
"Still a little mad with you about that by the way, missy," Tom scolded playfully with a raise of his brow. You only flashed him an innocent smile, kissing his lips a couple of times until he was grinning widely. And oh how much you love seeing that handsome face glow. Squeezing your waist, he added, "Also, this is temporary until the greenhouse kit I ordered will arrive in the next few months. They were out of stock so I decided on the next best thing."
You swear your heart couldn't grow any bigger, but it did.
"Have I told you how much of an amazing boyfriend you are?" you marveled, cupping his face delicately, thumb stroking the sun-kissed skin of his cheek in pure adoration.
"Would like to hear it more often though," he joked, turning his head to kiss your palm before he leaned into your touch like an adorable puppy. "Or you could kiss me more to drill it in my brain."
You couldn't help but roll your eyes, but gave in to his request anyway. A soft chuckle escaped him as you pressed your lips against his, your arms finding their way on his broad shoulders to pull him close.
"Thank you," you whispered between the kiss, nothing but sheer appreciation laced in your tone.
"Of course, love, anything for my girl," Tom hummed, leaving a couple more loving pecks before pulling away. Glancing at his ongoing project, he added, "It's not quite done yet though."
"Oh, go on then. Don't let me hold you off," you said, smile widening with much enthusiasm. "I'll go grab some breakfast, sit here and ogle at you, Mr. Carpenter," you purred with no shame at all, sliding your hands down his biceps and giving it an admiring squeeze.
Tom chuckled, shaking his head at you with a playful eye roll. Yet he squeezed your waist pointedly, eyeing you with a certain glow in his brown orbs that were now faintly a shade darker. It made you wonder if it was a warning to not be such a distraction or an invitation to add more distractions. Before he could make another move though, your stomach grumbled, his laugh ringing in the air once he heard. With that, you pulled away from his grasp, pecking the corner of his lips one more time before you retreated into the house.
"Can you get me some water please, darling? Thank you!" he called out, you throwing a thumbs up in the air in response. Right as you slid open the backdoor, he spoke again, and you could just hear his smug smirk when he added, "Oh, and grab some tissues for your drool!"
"Don't get too cocky, Holland!
You were watering the plants this late afternoon, just coming down from work when you suddenly felt strong arms snaking around your waist, making you jump with a small squeak.
"Goodness, Tom," you breathed out once that familiar scent of his cologne hit your nostrils, your head turning to shoot him a small glare.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he chuckled, placing tender kisses on your cheek and shoulder. "Shouldn't have sneaked in on you like that."
You turned to look at him, inviting his soft lips against yours. A kiss, a silent way of welcoming him home after a whole day filled with busy escapades. You turned back to your task at hand a few moments after.
"I didn't hear you arrive," you said.
Tom snuggled closer, his warmth engulfing you in an instant, never failing to make the butterflies in your stomach flutter. "Yeah, because you've been very busy taking care of your little plant-lings," he murmured against your shoulder. "Look how big they've grown, love. You should be proud of yourself. You did that!" Tom gushed, squeezing you with much enthusiasm, and when you met his eyes, the very same emotion glowed in his brown orbs, grin wide with pride. Your heart could do nothing more but melt at the seams.
"Not just me," you started, turning the hose off before facing Tom fully, wrapping your arms around him with utmost fondness in your eyes. "You helped."
"I just built their little house. Maybe became your assistant and muscle for a bit," he chuckled, hands resting on the small of your back as he nudged the tip of his nose with yours. "But your love and care are what made them grow."
You pouted at his words before closing the distance between you two, your lips on his as a way to tell him how much you appreciate him, in more ways than he could begin to understand. Tom smiled during the kiss, and it was your way of knowing that he did understand, that he felt what you were trying to say but the words couldn't seem to justify.
Once you pulled away, you settled into his embrace, cheek pressed on his chest as you let out a soft breath. Your eyes scanned the display in front of you, a smile tugging at your lips at the wonderful teamwork that you and Tom had managed to conjure. A simple yet beautiful thing, it was. Everything looked complete, like it belonged, his work with their house—which he chose to refer—and your ever-growing plants, a perfect match.
The seedlings were about three months old now, and you couldn't be any prouder of how great things turned out. To see them gradually grow taller with the passing days, with each leaf that would bloom, it was nothing short of rewarding, a certain warmth spreading in your chest, and as Tom had said, the love and care.
"It feels like they're my babies," you muttered. Catching yourself, you pulled away from his chest, looking at him with slight apprehension. "Is that stupid?"
"Never stupid, because in a way, they are," Tom hummed, thumb coming up to smooth over the crease between your brows before his palm cupped your cheek sweetly. "You did bring, or rather, grow them into this world."
There was a moment of silence that hung over you both, just staring at each other with much comfort and love. But you could see that the gears in Tom's head were turning as if he was contemplating something. Yet before you could get the chance to ask him about it, he spoke again,
"You know, watching you through the whole process, to see all the thought and precision you put in making sure that you're taking care of them well and that all their needs a rightly met, the love and care that you poured into your seeds, to then see how big they've grown now, healthy—and dare I say it—happy, it makes me wonder..." Tom trailed off, the smile on his lips gradually turning brighter as he held your gaze. It was faint, but you saw the slight nervousness in his touch as he wrapped both his arms around you securely.
"About what?" you asked.
"About how you'd be the greatest mother to our children someday," he answered, voice soft but honest, eyes set deep into your own as he gave your waist a gentle, loving squeeze.
"Stop," you whined as you quickly hid your face on the crook of his neck, the warmth starting from your cheeks and spreading across the whole expanse of your heart.
In the two and a half years you've been together, the idea was never brought up. There were the teasing jokes from friends, but you and Tom had never sat down and actually spoken about anything regarding the years to come. Yet to hear him say it now, a confirmation that he had been thinking about a future with you in it, it was filling you up with all sorts of emotions.
"What?" Tom chuckled softly, almost shyly before he pried you off of him gently. You met his gaze, swiftly turning teary-eyed when you saw it clear in his brown orbs, how he wasn't at all playing with his words. "I mean it, love. You'd take great care of our babies in our future," he gushed, nothing but sincerity glowing in his eyes. You tilted your head at him with a pout, tears already threatening to spill as you admired the man before you, your man.
The already soft blush on his cheeks grew deeper as Tom nudged his nose against yours. A shy smile played on his lips as he asked, "If you'd want to, of course, you know, with me?"
You couldn't stop the giggle from escaping you. "I do want to, with you, of course," you confirmed, palm cupping his face as you ran your thumb over the red-stained apples of his cheeks. "All of it, in our future," you clarified, the words rolling off your tongue so nicely that it made you want to say it over and over again.
Tom laughed at that, the beautiful, hearty sound stringing along with the breeze as he nodded. You knew he understood completely what you meant. It was written all over his face. With a soft breath, he rested his forehead against yours with a loving glow in his eyes. Your heart skipped a few beats as he leaned in for another kiss, soft, sweet, and one that was interwoven with a sense of promise. It was somewhat a silent way for you both to seal the deal.
You kissed him back with the same intention, with as much undying passion to let him know that you mean it too, a future with him.
These little yet sweet moments with Tom are ones you'll always cherish, the ones that are kept in these rolls of film inside your head. The sweet, mundane memories you can easily put on repeat, easy to tap into. A growing collection, with more being added as your love for him continues to flourish.
But with any normal relationship, it isn't always sunshine and blue skies.
Other times it's rainy, cloudy and gray, storms sometimes inescapable, unpredictable. Just how there are sweet, wholesome, wonderful days, there are also the aching bad days.
This time, nothing could've ever prepared you for the worst.
You and Tom have this little thing where you spend the whole night together every Friday if he's home. It's your way of winding down after a busy week. There are certain exceptions of course, when there are more pressing matters at hand. But if that is the case, the one with another agenda will always make sure to give the other a heads up.
But tonight, you received nothing but radio silence from him the whole day.
This week had been one of the worst, and you'd just been trying to make it day by day up to the weekend. You were looking forward to tonight, to finally spend some much-needed time with Tom since he'd been quite busy this week as well. Your time together had been limited to crashing into bed the second the other gets home to hurried kisses in the morning when you slept in for too long.
Now that you were given the opportunity to have each other all to yourselves, but to have him gone for the whole day, all the while hearing absolutely nothing as to where he was, it was adding more to your already heavy heart.
You were sitting on the couch crossed-legged, a blanket covering your lower half as you hugged one of the pillows, gaze set blankly on the TV screen. Tears were already brimming in your eyes when you heard the front door open and then close rather loudly. You took in a shaky breath, blinking rapidly in a poor attempt to compose yourself.
It wasn't full-on dread, but you had no idea how this night was going to end. And with the way Tom dropped his things with such harshness, it could only make your anxiety grow.
"Where were you?" you asked as softly as you could. Yet the shakiness was obvious in your tone and you cursed yourself silently for it.
Barely even glancing your way, Tom went straight towards the kitchen. He came back to the living room with a bottle of beer on hand. His hair was in disarray, face slightly flustered with the deep crease present in between his brows, all signs pointing towards the fact that he wasn't in the best of moods.
"Sorry. I had to go for another round because I needed to be decent in at least one," he casually apologized yet there was no ounce of remorse in his voice whatsoever. That was when you knew he had no clue as to what he missed or how heavy your heart was getting.
His reason stung more than you'd expected it to. You would've been more understanding if he was caught up in something out of his control. But finding out that it was his choice to be gone for the day, it wasn't exactly the best feeling altogether. You know it was far from the truth, but it was making you feel less important to him. And your self-deprecating thoughts after this week had been outright unforgiving.
"Well, you missed it," you breathed out, gesturing towards the screen where the end credit of some classic rom-com was already rolling.
It was a channel you and him found long ago, and they show classic films at the same time every Friday. It became a part of your little thing, just you and him cuddling on the couch, watching the movie with whatever takeaway you were in the mood for that night.
It was still the same now, except, it was only you with the pizza, alone, cold, and untouched.
"Shit, what day is it today?" Tom grumbled, rubbing his palm over his face before finally sparing you a glance. Tiredness was obvious in his eyes, but you couldn't hold his gaze for much longer without the hurt clawing deeper into your chest.
He could always pretend to care, but you know him. With one look in his eyes, you could see how much he wasn't bothered by this as much as you were. It was something forgettable to him, and when it meant a lot to you, especially after one hell of a week, his carelessness was hurting you more than your already beaten heart could handle.
"Friday," you croaked, hugging the pillow tighter before clearing your throat. "Since you like to turn your phone off while playing, I guess you didn't read any of my messages asking if you'd make it or not."
Maybe it was the awful days that'd been piled up on your shoulders, or the tone of absolute disregard in his voice, but you felt your resolve slowly diminish. You were going to give him the benefit of the doubt, understand him and maybe, give into his reason. But the way he was acting with an attitude fully uncalled for, that option now seemed unattainable.
"I really needed this, I really needed you," you whispered, fingernails digging into the cushion as you gripped it tighter. It was helping in keeping yourself together in a way, but barely. "It's been a horrible week—"
"And I've had a horrible day, what makes you special?" he scoffed, emptying his bottle of beer before placing it with a loud clunk on the coffee table.
More tears gathered in your eyes as you stared at him in shock. Tom saw this, but what hurt most was the immediate way he brushed it off.
He pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes screwed shut before letting out a harsh breath. "Alright, fine. I'll just make it up to you next Friday," he said offhandedly, throwing out an empty promise for the sake of it.
"You really don't see it, do you?" you said, voice strained with hurt.
Tom missing this Friday night wasn't the biggest deal anymore, it was the way he was acting so insolent about the whole situation. It was painful how easily he was disregarding his snide comments as if they weren't hurtful. Add that to him acting like tonight was an easy solution by throwing some option of making it up to you, an option that he wasn't even sincere about, it could only add to the already growing pile that was tying—no, dragging you down.
Tom's nonchalant attitude about the whole thing was making you feel ridiculous about every emotion that was bubbling inside you. As if they weren't valid, as if you weren't drowning and in need of a gasp of air, as if you weren't hanging onto the ledge of the cliff, scared to fall into your demise. And right now with how he was acting, it felt like Tom was simply watching your fingers slip off, slowly, dreadfully, one by one.
"I can't be bothered to do this right now," he grumbled, palm rubbing over his face harshly as he turned to walk away.
You sighed in exasperation, "Do what exactly?"
"I'm so fucking tired. So please just save being a pain in the ass tomorrow," he all but sneered, glare sharp as he cast it in your direction.
Your heart stung, but you willed yourself to keep it together, lips pressed tightly into a thin line to stop them from trembling. With a sharp breath, you stood up to your full height, arms crossed over your chest. You had enough self-respect left to not let him walk all over you when he felt like it, even when he was angry.
"You know what, you're hearing it," you started, gaze holding his steadily in an attempt to stand your ground. "You have no right to treat me like this when I've done nothing to you."
"What do you fucking want from me?" Tom snarled.
No matter how simple, his words were coated with such vulgarity that you couldn't stop the tear that managed to slip. The smallest ounce of strength that remained in you diminished at the spite that poisoned his tone.
You found yourself shrinking under his gaze, voice starting to tremble as you spoke, "Is it too much for me to ask just a bit of support from you when I need it most?" Sniffling, you took a deep breath, knowing that the words probably wouldn't make much sense to him without context. And judging by the way he quickly shut you down when you barely even started to explain, you weren't going to get stomped the second time around. "Or maybe stop acting so cruel and try to understand where I'm coming from with this?"
"I said I was sorry," he retorted as if his apology was anywhere near sincere.
"But you're not, Tom," you breathed out. "You're just saying that to avoid confrontation."
"Oh shit! You caught me!" he laughed sarcastically. "Yes, I just want this to be over with so I can go to sleep, so I'm fucking sorry," he mocked, bowing down tauntingly as if his words didn't bring enough hurt already.
You'd seen Tom frustrated before, extremely angry even, but most of the time, you weren't the reason nor was it aimed at you. If it was, it was never like this, not with too much hatred as if you'd done something so awful that warrants this kind of treatment.
As far as you're concerned, you did absolutely nothing to cause him to suddenly act like this.
"Why are you being such an asshole?" you croaked, bottom lip trembling as your tears ran down your cheeks, one replacing the other quickly with each passing second. You hugged yourself tightly, fingernails digging into your skin but you welcomed it. The sharpness helped ground you in reality, stopping you from succumbing to the damaging thoughts that were making everything much worse.
You feel awful with the sinister twists your head was making, forcedly pointing the arrow towards your direction. It was making it seem that you were in the wrong, that this was your fault, and that you deserved this. It was a fight you were slowly but frightfully losing. But you were at a point of only wishing that Tom would stop since words didn't suffice anymore. It was probably obvious in your eyes, much more all over your face, a look of utter desperation for him to cease fire before more harm can be done.
But he kept going.
"I'm not in the mood right now so get off my fucking back, yeah?" Tom reasoned blatantly, hand running through his hair before glaring at your direction. "Take a hint?"
"Because that excuses your behavior?" you asked, somewhat, pleading for any sort of reason to make it make sense, just something to make you understand why he was acting so hostile towards you.
But Tom merely rolled his eyes with a loud scoff as he started to walk away again.
You didn't know if it was the frustration that was boiling within, or the mere desperation to make him see that his actions weren't easily inexcusable because he was 'not in the mood,' but with a tired, trembling voice, you called out,
"It's not fair for you to treat me like shit just because you lost some stupid game!"
Something in him snapped. You saw it when he immediately stopped in his tracks, his hands balling into fists at his sides as his chest heaved. He turned around swiftly, eyes set on you with a different glow this time. It made your stomach churn, but not in a good way.
"Stupid game?" Tom growled, taking strides until he was close enough that you could practically feel the heat that radiated off of him. "What, am I not allowed to be upset because I lost some stupid game?"
You know that Tom would never lay a hand on you, but with the intense anger that covered his eyes, one that tainted those brown orbs that made him look like he wasn't himself, you found yourself taking a few steps back.
"I didn't say that," you stressed, brows deeply furrowed, palms wiping away your tears harshly before you wrapped your arms around yourself. You were unsure if it was to keep yourself together, or an instinctive attempt of shielding. "What I meant was that it's not fair for you to act like this and aim your anger at me when I've done nothing wrong to you."
"Of course you don't get it," he scoffed, throwing his hands up before he started to pace, and it was obvious in his movements that he was way past the point of listening. "You don't fucking care about golf as much as I do. Fuck! Even calling it a game? A game when it's a fucking sport? You're not even trying to hide just how much you will never fucking understand why I'm upset right now," he snarled, sharply jabbing a finger towards your direction.
"Stop putting words in my mouth, Tom," you said in utter frustration, nails digging into your palms as you held your arms at your sides.
Of course, you understood. You know how passionate he gets with golf, and when things don't turn out in the way that he hoped, he has every right to be upset. It wasn't the first time he came home after an awful round and he was always a bit gloomy whenever he did. But never like this, and never at you.
That was what you didn't understand, him aiming his anger at you when you had nothing to do with his loss. What you didn't understand was what could have possibly made him think that he had the right to take out his frustration on you in such a demeaning way.
But no matter how much you tried to get an explanation, you knew it was already a lost cause. Because when Tom gets hot-headed, it's even more difficult to get through to him.
"I'm just telling you what I'm hearing, Y/N," he fumed through gritted teeth, his face flushed as he shot you a glare. "You're saying it's stupid for me to be upset over a game."
"When did I ever say that Tom?" you tried again anyway, pleading that he would snap out of it for just a second so he could see how much he was hurting you right now. But no, you only saw his eyes grow darker with fury, and before you could even begin to comprehend what was about to happen, Tom turned on his heel as he seethed,
"You know what? I'll make you understand just how it feels to lose something you care about."
"What do you—" you stopped yourself as watched him stomp towards the front door and practically yank his golf club out of his bag. You felt your heartbeat quicken, hands shaking. He didn't even bother giving you a second look as he went straight towards the backdoor.
"Tom!" You followed him as quickly as your trembling feet could muster, vision blurring, lungs gasping. You saw his figure reach your plants and you swore your heart stopped, your head already drawing an atrocious conclusion as to what he was about to do. You begged for your mind to be wrong, desperately hoped for it to be something else, but denial can do nothing more but prolong an imminent pain.
"T-Tom, stop, please!" you cried out and no matter how hard you tried to get your feet to move faster, to get in front of him to stop him, it was all but a second too late the moment he drew his club back. "Tom, no!"
The very first crack that hit your ears made that last finger slip as you fell off the ledge.
Falling deeper and deeper into a dark, bottomless pit, or may it be only your soul as your body remained, standing frozen, unmoving, somewhat lifeless. You were unable to make a single sound as you merely watched in horror as everything got destroyed right before your eyes.
In that moment, you lost hold of yourself.
Yet for Tom, all his sensible thoughts were thrown out the window the second he felt his club collide against something with a piercing crack.
Most of what he heard was the constant ringing in his ears, other sounds turning muffled as he took one swing, after another, and another. He was kicking at everything he could, hitting, screaming, his frustration exploding into chaos after a whole day of bottling it in.
Don't take your anger out on the course.
It was faint, but he could hear the sound of something breaking, one after the other. A part of him was saying this wasn't right, that he needed to stop. But it was merely a hushed whisper, overpowered by the angry voice screaming to keep going because it felt good. Tom felt better as the boiling rage inside him flowed through his club and then releasing into a puff of smoke with each swing, each blow he took. His emotions were overriding his judgment that he was unable to even take a breath, take a second to question his actions.
At that moment, Tom simply let that harsh side of him take the reins.
"Now these are stupid!" he barked, swinging with all his strength as he hit one that went toppling over. "What's the fucking point?!"
He stomped at the ground, the feeling of something getting crushed under his shoes somewhat cathartic in a wicked way. "Bloody idiot!" he yelled as he took another swing, club going straight through something fragile, an easy hit with a soft whoosh, but he felt better, lighter once it did so. "Can't aim in the right fucking direction," he growled.
Maybe it was a minute, maybe even five, but Tom wasn't conscious as to how long he'd been trashing the scene. All he recognized was the burning sensation on his skin, heart pumping at a pace that his lungs were having a difficult time keeping up.
"Fucking wind! Just had to land in the bloody sand!"
One, two, four more swings, a slight sting seeping into his palm at how tight he was holding the grip. He could feel the line of sweat that was forming on his crown, the deep crease between his brows never smoothing out, the scowl he wore unwavering.
"Fucking stupid!" Tom screamed at the top of his lungs, swinging one last time, the sound of his club hitting wood echoing into the air.
Then everything stopped, the cold night filled with eerie silence aside from his heavy breathing. He gripped his hair as he screwed his eyes shut. His whole body shook as he took a deep breath. Just as he let out a long sigh, a voice spoke. It was faint that the wind would've easily carried it away, but Tom was aware enough for him to recognize it. Only this time, it was trembling, broken.
"You killed them."
The second Tom opened his eyes and looked at the direction of the voice, he saw nothing but utter betrayal and hurt, drawn with pain-filled tears over your once joyful features.
He felt his anger leave him in a snap, his eyes catching sight of the absolute havoc he caused.
Everything was destroyed.
A mess that it was close to impossible to know which stem, root, or leaves were once together. It was difficult to decipher now which plant was what, the little banners you created now thrown elsewhere, scattered around the floor, on the grass, on the wood, your precious handwriting now covered in dirt. Pots were everywhere, in pieces, halves, broken. Patches to sprinkles of soil now tainted the once fresh grass, more of it covering parts of the wood where the plants used to stand.
Some stems were split in half, others desperately trying to stay in one piece. Most were on the ground with the leaves crushed, a faint indent of the sole of Tom's shoes present in some of them. A few pots remained on the display yet were now toppled over, dirt spilling out, plants completely dismantled, the roots gripping at some of the soil as if they were hanging onto the little bit of life they had left. The whole scene was littered with green leaves, all shredded, torn to pieces.
Tom's gaze fell on his hands. His driver was slightly bent, head covered in dirt, the club lodged tightly into his hold and that was the only and enough indication that this was all his doing.
"Fuck, what have I done?" he breathed out, stumbling back in utter shock. He looked up to search for your eyes only to find you already sprinting back inside the house at full speed. "Y/N, wait!"
He followed you as quickly as he could, dread creeping into his skin as the image of pain, the utter anguish, and grief—on your features, in your eyes—burned itself on his brain. Tom reached your shared bedroom only to find you on the floor, knees to your chest as your heart-wrenching sobs filled his ears.
"Darling," Tom whispered, trying to move closer, but the second you heard his single step, you scrambled back with a broken whimper.
"N-No, no p-lease, s-stop," you trembled, palms pressing over your ears as you shook your head hastily, eyes screwed shut with the endless tears tainting your cheeks. Tom wanted to hold you, to apologize profusely and desperately try to take your pain away as much as he could. But when he took another step, it was like you were hyperaware of his presence since you immediately pushed yourself farther from him, your back hitting the foot of the bed hard as you let out an excruciating sob. "Get away from me! Please, I d-don't want to get hurt anymore, p-please, stop!"
Tom felt his heart shatter at the sound of your frightened voice, his head pounding once he saw the scene before him.
He still had his driver in his hand, his body looming over your trembling form, desperate and broken cries escaping your lips as you hugged yourself as if you were trying to protect yourself. And fuck, you looked absolutely terrified.
Terrified of him.
The golf club tumbled on the floor as Tom fell to his knees with an unsteady breath. He stared at his hands, his mind running at a fast pace just as his heart was.
What have I done?
His gaze landed on you, and to see you in agonizing distress, body shaking in fear, Tom crumbled. Tears blurred his vision, a lump caught in his throat as he struggled to catch his breath.
"D-Darling, I would never—" he croaked, hands limply falling to his sides as he stared at you desperately. "I would never hurt you."
You frantically shook your head as a whimper escaped your lips. He probably wouldn't have heard it if his attention wasn't solely focused on you. Yet he did, he heard it loud and clear, the sound of betrayal, the heartbreak, the absolute pain in your voice,
"But you just did."
Tom felt a tear slip past his eyes because there was nothing but the truth in the words that you spoke.
He hurt you.
He hurt you in one of the most painful ways possible, by hitting where it would leave a dark bruise, one that would take time to truly heal. He hurt you where it would harshly sting, where it would cause so much damage by destroying something you love.
"Y/N, I—"
"P-Please go a-away," you pleaded. Tom felt sharp claws grab his heart in a vice grip, his bottom lip caught between his teeth to stop the sob from escaping him. He didn't want to leave you, he wanted to pull you in his arms and prove to you he meant no harm. But when Tom didn't budge, you didn't miss a second to try again, still trembling, scared, "I just w-want to be left alone, p-please."
Defeated, Tom nodded as he pushed himself off the floor with a shaky breath.
The club felt heavier in his hand when he took it back. It felt familiar, but at the same time, quite foreign. Before it was something that filled him with pride, made him reminisce all the best shots he'd taken with it. But was stained, an object that filled him with dread, a weapon used to cause such heartbreaking destruction.
He turned to you once he stood in his full height, mouth parting to try again but decided against it when he saw you hug yourself tighter. Tom walked out of the room with a deflated sigh, feet dragging against the hardwood floor as he ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. He didn't even notice that you stood up as well, not until the door slammed shut behind him, the sudden sound, making Tom wince. A sharp breath escaped him when he heard the click of the lock, turning around with a deep frown only to be met by the white-painted wood.
"Darling, I'm sorry," Tom croaked, pressing his forehead against the surface in a desperate hope that you'd be able to hear him, voice trembling despite trying his best to seize control of his emotions. But who was he kidding, he'd been god-awful with that the whole night. "I'm so so sorry."
He was met by profound silence, one that he knew was unchanging, and one that Tom rightfully deserved to receive. Uttered apologies after his whole perfidious act were inadequate, no matter how sincere. Tonight, his words were merely speckles of dust compared to his actions beforehand, actions that were huge boulders that already made damaging, lasting indents.
Reaching a standstill, mind blank as to what more he could do, Tom sat on the floor, right beside the doorway. He let go of the club with a shaky breath, head falling in his hands in nothing but shame.
Everything of tonight replayed before his eyelids, but this time, without the anger fogging up his lenses.
That was when Tom saw just how much he fucked things up.
The pained looks you gave him, the utter desperation in your eyes, the pure hurt that strained your voice, they were now starting to haunt Tom as he recalled little by little the unpleasant things he'd done. You were silently begging him to stop, it was so clear in your eyes now that he was watching the rerun. But it was too late because, during the moment, he failed to see past his clouded vision and kept going.
All you did was ask him to understand—hell, you were simply just asking him to be there for you because you needed him. The fact that he wasn't able to give it to you was bad enough, but then he responded with nothing more but snide and horrible comments, actions hostile because what? He had awful rounds? That he was in a bad mood, one that you had absolutely nothing to do with?
What kind of bullshit excuse is that?
"You fucking idiot, Tom," he growled as he threw his head back against the wall, palm running over his face harshly as he tried to keep his tears at a minimum. He felt like he had no right to cry, how dare he cry when he was the one who caused this in the first place?
He'd never seen you so terrified before, so broken, so lost, and the mere fact that it was all because of him, Tom was all the more disgusted to be in his own skin. He felt blatantly ashamed for failing to control his anger, particularly, for aiming his anger at you. He felt mortified to have acted so recklessly, so aggressively all because he let his emotions take the reins. It made him wonder how much worse things could've turned out, how much more damage he could've inflicted if he didn't stop.
Tom felt like a monster, one that could possibly do horrors if left untamed.
He didn't know how long he'd been sitting on the floor, wallowing in regret and his own self-pity, but the next thing he knew, he was scrambling to his feet once he heard the door open again. Yet his whole body ran cold when he saw you wheel out your suitcase.
"Wait, love, let's talk about this," he begged, hands out to reach until you flinched at the sight of him getting near. It hurt, so much, having you fear his touch when you used to have the need to constantly feel it, his lips on yours, his skin warm against your own. Yet now, you wanted nothing to do with, treating him like the plague. But Tom couldn't say he didn't deserve it. Then he noticed how your eyes remained elsewhere, on the floor, on your hands, only going as far as looking at his feet but never directly at him. "Y/N," he called as softly as he could, but to no avail when you only screwed your eyes shut all while taking a few steps back.
"Darling, why won't you look at me?" Tom choked out, the sharp claws digging deeper and deeper into the expanse of his heart, never letting up its grip even in the slightest. His chest tightened and tightened with each grueling second you avoided his eyes. His question was stupid because he already knew exactly why. Hell, he couldn't even look at himself the same after what he'd done, what more in your perspective?
"I-I can't," you sniffled, shaking your head as you kept your gaze cast on the floor, words merely confirming the thoughts he already had in his head. "Not right now, just—I need space."
It was expected, but that didn't mean it hurt any less.
"Are you leaving?" It was another stupid question, Tom mentally cursing himself as if your suitcase wasn't enough proof that you were. But maybe it was him in denial, hoping for it to not be the case despite it being blatantly obvious because he honestly couldn't bear the thought of you leaving without fully collapsing. "For good?" Tom clarified, voice breaking at the end, dread consuming him wholly at the mere thought that he might have just lost the best thing that's ever happened to him.
You shook your head solemnly. "No, I—" you paused, blinking up at the ceiling before you cast your eyes on the ground again, grip on your suitcase tightening. "I just need to take a breather. I'll be back after a week or, or...I-I don't know."
Tom felt a tinge of relief touch his skin, simply at the fact that it wasn't all in jeopardy. But it was only feather-like, an extremely short euphoria compared to the utmost remorse and ache that curled in his bones.
Every time you're stressed, you always remove yourself from the situation, distance yourself from what's causing you trouble. Then you'll go to a place of comfort, one that would bring you calmness after the chaos. It helps you recharge somewhat, because one can only endure so much distress, and it's never good to endure it unceasingly.
It used to be him, your comfort in midst of all the unease, the arms you'd run to when you needed to be held, your sense of calmness after one hectic day, your safe place.
But what now if he was the one you were running away from? What now if he was the one causing you uneasiness? Tom knew that the only option you had left was to find a new place, somewhere without him in the picture. Because if it wasn't already obvious, you didn't feel safe around him anymore, he ruined that by a long shot.
You needed to get away from him.
It hurt to admit, truly, devastatingly, but he'd be blatant lying to himself if he thought otherwise.
There was no point for him in trying to overturn your decision. He'd only cause you more trouble if he did. So, Tom nodded grimly, voice merely above a whisper when he said,
"I'll be right here waiting for you to come home."
With that, Tom stepped aside. It took everything in him to stay upright when you pressed yourself against the opposite wall, making sure that even the smallest of hair that was attached to your skins wouldn't brush against each other. It was as if you were scared that you'd get fatally burnt if you were close enough.
The sound of the wheels moving over the hardwood floor was deafening, and what was ironic was the farther away it got, the more piercing it was in Tom's ears. But nothing could compare to the front door slamming shut, followed by the silence that ringed in the air.
He screwed his eyes shut with a silent whimper, knuckles cracking as his hands tightened into fists. He wanted to run after you, to beg on his knees for you to stay, for the two of you to work things out without putting the painful distance between you both.
But who was he to deny you of finding solace when he already caused you so much distraught?
Tom found himself walking towards the backyard instead, moving sluggishly with his gaze trained on his shoes. It was only when he noticed that they were now dirty, traces of soil found from the sole to the laces. He felt the sharpness in his chest grow, even more so once he finally stood before the disaster he caused.
For the first time tonight, Tom fully let it go.
Sobs racked his body as he fell to the ground, sitting in shame and utmost regret.
It hurt to be reminded of all the things you went through just to get your seeds to grow into the plants you were proud of. It pained Tom to recall the determination you had in making sure they got what they truly needed and more, the glow that you once held when you saw the first sprout that emerged from the soil. It hurt because now, the very plants you cared for had been horribly ruined. Your joyful laughs and giggles, the proud smile you wore were now all distant memories, almost faded, replaced by the grief, the betrayal, and pain that covered your features.
He could only imagine what was going through your head right now. Tom knew you were thinking of the moments where he tried his best to show you all his support, to ease out your worries and doubts in pursuing your newfound hobby. For him to suddenly do a complete 180, it wasn't a reach to assume that you were now struggling to believe which side of him was real. Hell, you heard him call it stupid. He basically confirmed at the top of his lungs what the nagging voices in your head were saying.
You spent months tending them, months of showering them with love, to see them grow wonderfully in a way that filled you with pride, and Tom destroyed it all in a matter of minutes.
All your hard work, all the heart and soul you poured into your plants, the sense of fulfillment you felt as you watched them grow, the utmost pride that filled your bones, the absolute delight, the pure happiness at the mere fact that you were able to grow something, something living—
Tom stole all of that away from you with a simple swing of his golf club.
"Fuck!" he cursed at the night sky, tears streaming down his cheeks only for them to be brashly wiped away with his palm rubbing over his face. Still, they kept coming endlessly. He was frustrated, angry at himself, the guilt eating him whole, his heart aching for what he'd done to you. And there was no other way he could let all his emotions out in the most harmless way possible by crying on the ground until he couldn't.
It was a couple of moments more when Tom finally found himself taking in calm breaths. His eyes stung, chest still tight, but it couldn't even compare to the amount of hurt he caused you so he didn't dare complain.
With a trembling hand, he reached towards the ground, taking what remained of the leaves on his palm, and it was like he was staring right at the replica of your heart.
The only difference?
He was able to hold the torn leaves in his hands, but Tom didn't know if he could ever do the same with your broken heart ever again.
He turned around at the sound of his name, balancing the sack of garden soil on his shoulders so he could see properly.
"Harry, hey," Tom breathed out, nodding curtly at his brother before he continued his way down the path towards the backyard gate by the side of the house.
"Oh, I got it." Harry quickly moved in front of him to open the door.
"Thanks," Tom muttered, already knowing that he was getting an earful once—
"What happened?" Harry asked as he followed him deeper into the backyard, the confusion obvious in his tone once he saw the absolute mess before him. With the sun being at its highest this crisp afternoon, no detail was left out as every single thing was made visible by the glaring rays. "Did a fox come around or something?"
Oh how simple if that was the case.
"No," Tom sighed, crouching down to place the sack on the ground, right beside the new pots he bought, too. He sat on the tiny stool you frequently used, an ache inching in his heart at the memories of you in this very place, smile once bright and proud. He kept his gaze low, scanning over the aftermath of last night before he admitted,
"I destroyed it."
There was silence, one that lasted for a couple of seconds before Harry muttered in utter shock, "You what?"
Everyone was aware of your plants, how proud you were of them, and how it truly brought you such joy. When the twins or any of the lads came over and asked about it—since Tom couldn't stop gushing about how adorable you are with them—you had looked at them in shock for a moment before you brought them out back to show it to them, a shy but excited smile on your face as you explained the process and what each plant needed for them to grow healthy.
All of them were thoroughly impressed, and all of them could feel just how much your plants meant to you. Not to mention, how the happiness and enthusiasm you were exuding was quick to rub off on them that they'd start to feel giddy, too. The most wholesome part was that each of the lads had taken into your footsteps, little by little. Tom couldn't stop his laughter when he saw the few avocado seeds that sat by the twins' kitchen window, and somewhere around in Harrison's and Tuwaine's flat when he came to visit just a couple of days ago.
So if there was anyone else who'd roughly understand how you feel with everything being destroyed, it was them, including Harry.
Tom nodded grimly, lips pressed tightly into a thin line as he ran his fingers through his unruly, unwashed hair. "Yesterday morning—"
"You had an awful round," Harry finished, Tom nodding again as he spared him a glance. The crease on the young lad's brows only deepened and Tom could see the gears turning in his head, because there was no one else who knew better about Tom's short fuse more than his brother. The redhead had seen it in action plenty of times, and a handful of those, he was getting the heat. Tom knew Harry wouldn't take long in putting two and two together, especially when—
"So I went again after lunch," Tom said. Surely enough when he looked at Harry again, there was the look of disappointment and then slowly, the anger inching its way across his face.
"Are you fucking kidding me? You know that doesn't make it anything better, Tom." Harry shook his head at him disapprovingly. "Two rounds in one day?" he repeated, grimace on his face as if it was something so scandalous.
Tom sighed dejectedly, "I know, and I was even more frustrated after because I played even worse than I did in the morning."
On every occasion Tom played a second round, especially with so little leeway in between, nothing ever good came out of it. He'd done it a couple of times, and the only thing he'd gain were missing balls, sore muscles, utmost fatigue, a poorer performance, a shitty mood and a bitter, bitchy attitude. He honestly had no idea why he hadn't learned his lesson yet. It had to take something drastic to happen as a result of his bad habit for him to get the hint by the looks of it.
"You bloody idiot." Harry was full-on pissed now, arms crossed over his chest with a scowl on his face. "You lost your temper on her didn't you?"
Tom nodded in pure shame, trembling fingers coming up in a poor attempt to settle down his hair. "When I got home, she was—fuck, she looked so tired and broken the second I got home and I don't know what came over me but I guess it dampened my mood even more."
Whenever Tom would come home after a bad day, you had always been there so give him some comfort. You'd shower him in love and affection, gently easing off the fire that was raging in him. You'd be so gentle and patient with him, so warm and welcoming, like the calmness after the raging storm.
So when he was met by something else, something of the opposite sense, he reacted bitterly. It was like the negativity and the tension that polluted the atmosphere only fuelled his anger. It was like he was met by a gas over the flame instead of the fire extinguisher he'd always been used to.
That itself just made everything much worse, made him feel that much more of an asshole because you don't owe him anything. You're under no obligation to console him every time he's in a bad mood. And it's fucking unfair for him to expect that every time he comes home all gloomy, even more, if he starts acting like a dickhead.
"I treated her like shit and it escalated into an argument and I just—" Tom breathed deeply as he tried to keep his emotions at the minimum. But he'd been a mess the second he woke up to a cold, quiet, empty house. Even more so when he caught sight of the ramifications of his actions last night, but made clearer by the morning sun. "I lost control. I felt so angry that I needed to let it out, and somehow, I took it out on her plants and fuck," he sobbed much to his control, eyes screwed shut as he pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to ease the throbbing headache that was slowly creeping back on him.
"And she witnessed the whole thing?" Harry wondered with a sense of dread coating his tone. Tom merely responded with a nod. Harry breathed out sharply, and the older lad didn't need to see for him to know that his brother was glaring right at him. "Fucking hell, Tom—"
"I know, I'm a fucking asshole," Tom croaked, utter grief and regret joining his tears as he met Harry's gaze.
"You are," Harry sighed, taking in slow, steady breaths. Tom could see that the frustration was dwindling off of him, but the disappointment was pretty much still there. "And Y/N?"
After attempting to even out his breathing as much as he could, Tom explained, "She's staying at her parents' place for the meantime...said she needed a breather."
Harry nodded with a small frown. "Understandable."
"She was having a tough week as well and this was just the last straw." Tom rubbed his face with his palm in frustration before he met his brother's eyes again. "She got so scared of me, Harry. Every time I got near she'd flinch and it fucking hurt. I would never ever lay a single finger on her, not even when you catch me dead. But she looked at me like I was some monster—and she's right, I am a monster because I destroyed the things she was proud of. I took away what made her so happy, I hurt her so badly," Tom whimpered, harshly wiping away his tears with the back of his hand.
"Hey, none of that," Harry sighed before squatting down beside him, hand on his shoulder and squeezing it reassuringly. "I think she knows you'd never hurt her—" Tom winced, Harry quick to notice as he immediately added, "Physically, I meant. Maybe it was just the initial shock. That's why she reacted the way she did."
Tom nodded solemnly. "I really hope so," he muttered.
"At least now you're aware of how wrong you were for exploding on her and well, this," Harry exhaled as he gestured around the mess. "All the more reason for you to get a hold of that bloody fuse of yours before anything worse happens," he added bluntly as he looked at Tom, nothing but firmness in his tone which was transparently reflected on his face. It may have been a tad harsh but Harry knew that it was what Tom needed to hear rather than letting this slip so easily, which could possibly lead to him never learning his lesson. Tom was grateful for that.
"I'd say you just give her some space for now. Don't try to crowd her and give her time to process things because there's no doubt she's going to be in shock for a while. As for you, take some time for yourself, too. Try to manage your anger and figure out a way for you to do better." Harry shot him a knowing look. "But also remember that Y/N loves you just as much as you love her, I don't think she's going to let this one instance ruin this beautiful thing that you two have. Just don't be an asshole next time, yeah?" he concluded with a soft smile.
"Thanks, Harry. And yeah, I won't be." Tom mirrored his brother's grin—a smaller one, at that, his heart feeling a little lighter at the redhead's words of advice.
"I was going to ask the both of you if you were free to hang out with Sam, Paddy, and I since it's been a while. We were thinking you know, minigolf—"
Tom nodded with a tight-lipped smile, his heart warming up at the wholesome memories with regards to minigolf. It was when you would grow even a deeper bond with his brothers. Friendly competitions erupting to banter, a bet which always resulted in someone getting embarrassed in public, missed shots to then blaming it on the alcohol, and a couple of sabotages to getting revenge. Sometimes it was team ups—usually, it was you and Harry, then Tom and Sam, Paddy serving as the judge to make sure no one cheats, because there had definitely been petty ones that occurred.
No matter what, the day always ends in the winners rubbing it in on the losers' faces, all lovingly of course. Tom had been at the receiving end of it more times than he'd like to admit.
He might be better at golf on the actual course, but when it comes to minigolf, somehow, in some twist of the universe, you always hand his ass right to him. God, the little dance you'd do whenever you get a better score than him made Tom want to lose every single time if it meant he gets to see that, get to see the joy in your eyes.
Tom didn't think you'd see it the same after what happened. Hell, he couldn't even look at his clubs without wincing.
You'd been so supportive and understanding with his love for it, but then he went around accusing you of things that were all lies. Fuck, you probably even think how the sport is more important to him than your well-being, which isn't true, at all.
But then again, he couldn't blame you for believing it. After all, he forgot about your Friday routine because he chose to go for another round instead. Tom put his selfish wants and desperate need to preserve his ego first and being there for you second. It was made even worse by the fact that it was a time when you needed him most.
"—But I'm guessing you really want to fix this right away," the young lad finished, a sympathetic smile on his lips as he squeezed Tom's shoulder again.
"Yeah, I really need to," Tom breathed out, eyes scanning the scene before him. "I can't have them looking like this any longer."
"We can help—"
"No, it's alright." Tom placed his hand over Harry's, flashing him a grateful smile. "I made this mess, it's only right for me to take care of it myself."
Tom stirred once the bright glare of the sun coated the entire bedroom, a low groan escaping him as he once again forgot to close the curtains the night before. After a stretch, he laid on his back, eyes cast on the ceiling before they landed on the space beside him.
He wished it wasn't empty.
Routinely, he reached for his phone, a small smile playing on his lips as he stared at the photo of you and him. With a soft breath, he entered his code and opened up the first app he'd grown to use every morning now.
Message to The Love of My Life <3:
Good morning, darling.
Forgot to close the curtains...again. I know, I deserve that eye roll. But you're the one who keeps reminding me about it every night before I cuddle with you in bed and well, I could use a little bit of reminding again. I'm kidding, I'll break the habit soon, don't worry. Miss waking up to your beautiful face...but I hope you had a goodnight’s sleep, love. Have a nice breakfast and great meals for today, stay hydrated, treat yourself well, and wish you nothing but the best on the day ahead. And...I'm sorry. I'm sorry for what I've done, for hurting you, for...everything. If I could undo it, I would in a heartbeat. I know it simply doesn't cut it but I'm not going to stop apologising. It's only right. But please, please don't forget that you mean the world to me and that I love much. Looking forward to having you in my arms again, my love.
Your dork, Tom x
It'd been like this these past few weeks, him merely sending you a letter-like text to greet you good morning, giving you a little update on his part, wishing you well, apologizing as much as he could to then reminding you just how much he loves you. Sometimes you responded, sometimes you didn't, but Tom had grown to not expect anything more nor did he try to send another text for the remainder of the day. He didn't want to pester you and invade your sense of peace.
He didn't bother to try calling again after the first few times you'd deliberately declined it. He figured you just didn't want to hear his voice, not yet at least. He understood, especially after all the hurtful things he'd yelled at you, no matter how long ago it may seem.
But oh how much Tom missed hearing your voice, to seeing your lovely smile painted across your beautiful face. He missed the feeling of your touch, tender and slow, hurried and hot, he didn't care which of which, he missed it. He missed being so close to you, your warm skin on his, the taste of your lips lingering on his own, all that is you tangled in everything that is him.
Nevertheless, Tom knew he'd have to be patient, it was the least he could do. After all, there was nobody else to blame for his current predicament other than him.
The last two weeks had been slow for him, stuck in the same old boring routine since he had nothing else better going on.
He'd wake up, have some light breakfast before going for his early run, and then take a hot shower to get rid of his sweat. The rest of the morning consisted of nothing more but him responding to emails, simply keeping busy with work in general. By noon, he'd order lunch—take out most likely—and sit in the living room with the TV playing some random show, just to fill up the silence. After that, if the rain hadn't graced London, he'd go out into the yard to do what was necessary to care for your plants...well, what was left of it.
Sometimes there were weeds that needed to be plucked out, other times he needed to remove the unwanted bugs that were crawling about. Just last week he'd given them some compost to add some nutrition to their newly-changed soil, him finding out that it only needed to be done yearly once he researched to make sure he wasn't overdoing it. Most of the time, they didn’t need anything more but a nice drizzle of water.
Either way, Tom had grown fond of this part of his routine, all the while, deepening the ache in his chest since it made him understand even more. He'd be downright devastated if something bad happened to the plants, even if it had only been a few weeks of him being with their company. What more if it was longer? Let's say, months longer just like how you did?
Tom was about to finish watering for the day when he heard the backdoor slide open. He was expecting it to be Harry, the young lad frequently visiting just to check up on him and whatnot. Sometimes Sam would tag along with a homecooked meal after they'd seen the countless take-out boxes piling up in the bin.
But when he turned around, he immediately froze, blinking rapidly to make sure if what he was seeing was real. He wanted to a hundred percent that his eyes weren't playing tricks on him as a result of the constant yearning his heart was throbbing for, showing him an image of what, or rather who, he was longing for.
Which was you, Tom saw you.
"H-Hey," he stammered, fumbling with the hose to turn off the water. He cleared out his throat as he kept his gaze steady on your figure that was standing by the door. "You're home."
Tom stood still in his spot in surprise and...hesitation. He carefully weighed his next set of actions because as much as he wanted to sprint and pull you into his embrace, he didn't want to scare you away.
He wouldn't dare risk it, especially now that you were back after weeks.
The images of that night were still quite fresh, the way you feared even the slightest sign of him being near. Tom believed that that was still the case, that you were still skeptical about him being near. So imagine his shock when you walked over to him, closer and closer, with no ounce of uncertainty in your movements whatsoever, not even when you were standing right in front of him.
Tom's heart stopped when your arms snaked around his waist, your face buried on the crook of his neck as you let out a soft, satisfied sigh.
He didn't even get a chance to stop the sob that escaped his lips as he oh so gently wrapped his arms around you, turning his head just slightly so that he was able to press a tender kiss on your temple. Tears ran down his cheeks next, body starting to shake as he relished in your warmth, relished in the feeling of you being back in his arms.
Tom missed you, so fucking much.
"Hey," you whispered, slowly pulling away as you met his eyes. A small smile played on your lips, orbs a little glossy as your thumbs reached up to wipe the tears off his cheeks.
God, you're too good to him.
Tom's hand took home on your waist as you turned to the side. There was a faint falter in your breath as your gaze landed on the unbroken pots sitting in the display. "You—" you trailed off, merely gesturing at the plants.
It was the tiniest one, but he knew you caught sight of the one leaf that had just started to grow back. A yellow-green little thing emerging from the short stem that was left. Tom couldn't exactly pinpoint which plant it was, unable to determine it fully until the leaves had grown a bit bigger.
But it was progress, to say the least.
"I tried to salvage what I could," Tom started, trying to keep his voice even as much as he could. But it was difficult now that you were right here. Granted, he'd been away from you longer, and it had always been difficult, but he'd been able to talk to you then. Without hearing your voice, barely even seeing your face, your absence had taken a toll, and Tom couldn't stop himself from getting emotional at the sight of you.
"And from what I've researched, it said that they're going to be alright as long as the roots are good and healthy. It's just going to take a while for them to grow back like how they used to be," he finished as he kept his eyes on you.
Tom did his best and repotted everything. Unfortunately, some weren't salvageable so he ended up throwing them away. His heart broke when he did so, the sight of them in the bin compared to their state before he--it was a hard sight to see. As for the few that he did manage to save, it will still take a while for them to heal and grow fully to how big and healthy they once were.
You simply nodded, gaze lingering on the plants for a few more seconds before you met his eyes again. There were so many emotions swimming in them, and Tom admired the way you held— controlled them. If only he could say the same with himself.
With a small smile, you softly said, "I brought some brownies, made them yesterday." You offered out a hand for him to take, Tom delicately intertwining your fingers together as he looked at you expectantly. "I'll make you some tea to go with it," you added as you guided him back towards the house.
But Tom hesitated, knowing that there were so many words that needed to be said. He squeezed your hand lightly which made you stop in your tracks, your eyes on him curiously with the glint of concern coating them.
"Darling, we should—"
"I know," you cut him off, your free hand cupping his face as you squeezed his hand with the other. "Let's just try and ease into it okay? There's no need to rush. I'm here now."
If Tom had a little bit of control left, he certainly lost it at that.
"I don't deserve you," he whimpered, his body growing weak as he hung his head low, bottom lip caught in between his teeth to stop himself from turning into a bawling mess.
You let out a soft sigh, hand cupping his cheek and silently urging him to look at you. "But you do, Tom," you hummed once he met your eyes again. Your touch was gentle, loving as you wiped away the fresh tears that stained his cheeks. "One bad incident doesn't negate all the good and the best things you've done for me."
All Tom could do was nod, his lips pressed tightly into a thin line to prevent them from trembling. He screwed his eyes shut to stop the tears from falling even more as he rested his forehead against yours.
The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, you being the sweetest angel who'd ever graced this earth as you patiently stood with him. You whispered over and over that it was okay, all the while never failing to wipe away his tears, but also, letting him know that he didn't have to hold it in.
Once Tom had managed to make his shaky breaths into tiny sniffles, you smiled at him sweetly.
"Now, let's get back inside."
The tea helped Tom calm down in a way that he managed to get a hold of himself instead of becoming a blubbering mess every few seconds. The lovely brownies you made added to the comfort as well, soft and sweet. Although he wasn't sure if it was entirely the warmth and comfort of the food or yours.
Maybe it was the simple fact that you were sitting right beside him on the living room couch, your head on his shoulder as you watched a rerun of The Great British Bake Off.
His eyes never left you, not even the minute you stepped inside, not even in the kitchen, and not even when you sat down on the couch with him. Tom was simply scared that the second he'd look'd be gone, swiftly taken away from him because things just seemed too good to be true. After all, we aren't meant to keep the things we don't deserve.
"What's wrong?"
He didn't even realize that you noticed him staring, your voice easing him out of his daze. Tom breathed deeply, taking your fingers in his and fiddling with them nervously as he met your concerned eyes.
"I am so sorry," he finally said, in person this time, nothing but utmost sincerity laced in his voice. He held your eyes, never stopping to let you see how much he meant his words. "I know that doesn't even cut a pinch to what I've done, but I'm really, really sorry, Y/N."
You stared at him for a moment, as if you were contemplating the words you wanted to say. Tom waited, never rushing, even if it took you a couple more seconds to say anything at all.
"It's okay," you breathed out, a small but genuine smile on your lips. "They're just plants, it's a bit stupid to be hung up over them."
Tom felt his heart break at your words. It was painful hearing you say that and what hurt most was the fact that you meant it. You didn't say it to be petty nor to douse him in more guilt; you truly believed your own words. And he could only be the most awful person by turning something you loved and adored, something you'd grown to be fond and proud of into something that had been devalued into a mere...just plants.
"No, no, no, it's not stupid," he rushed, shifting in his seat until he was fully facing you. He squeezed your hands, lifting them up to place gentle kisses on your knuckles before he met your eyes. "You and your own hands grew your wonderful plants. You'd grown life with your hands, darling. You worked tirelessly to make them as healthy as possible. You spent months taking care of them, you created your own memories with each leaf that you'd seen sprout," Tom paused when he saw the tears that welled up in your orbs, hands letting go of yours so he could cup your face. "They're a part of you just as how you're a part of them, and I destroyed that. I destroyed what made you happy. I destroyed the things you deeply cared about. You had every single right to be hurt
"What was stupid was me losing my temper over something so small and creating a bigger problem. What was stupid was me taking out my frustration on you when you did absolutely nothing wrong," he continued, his thumb catching the tears that slipped past your eyes. "What was stupid was me hurting you," Tom's voice broke at the end of his sentence, eyes glossing up in both guilt. and the mere fact that you looked at him with sadness and hurt glittering in your orbs in the form of tears.
"Doesn't matter if I had a bad round, or that I was already in a bad mood. I had no right to take it out on you like that, take it out on you in a way that hurt you so much,"
"I shouldn't have pushed you. I should've just kept quiet and let you be," you whispered, bottom lip trembling and Tom's heart ached even more at the sight.
He shook his head. "No, it was only right for you to voice out what you were feeling. You had every right to call me out with the way I acted." There was a slight doubt that flickered in your eyes, so he took your hand in his again, squeezing it reassuringly as he said, "Darling, I mean this, don't you ever stay quiet and let me step all over you just because I'm angry."
"I just don't want to create a bigger mess," you admitted, voice shaking in the slightest bit with how close you were, Tom noticed, along with the hint of doubt.
"But you didn't make it bigger, I did. Looking back on it now, you weren't even screaming back at me," he said sincerely. But Tom saw it, the flicker of fear in your eyes, and it made his stomach drop, made his heart break because it could only mean that you were skeptical about standing your ground now. Fearful to even be near the fire after being burnt badly with the previous encounter. He saw that you'd rather be quiet and get stepped on than choose to stand up for yourself and risk getting caught in the line of fire.
"Y/N...are you scared of me?" Tom asked, dread in his tone with utmost pain and worry in his eyes. "The truth, please."
You hastily shook your head, taking in a deep breath as your eyes fell on your entangled fingers. "No, no, it was just a whole lot of things piling up that week. I was just hanging in there and when you—when it happened, it was a sudden shock. And I was spiraling and everything was happening so fast, and you weren't stopping and I didn't know what to do—" you cut yourself off with a broken whimper. Tom squeezed your hand, a kiss landing on your temple but he stayed quiet, simply waiting for you to finish your part.
"I've never seen you that angry before and I—I guess, maybe a little scared that something like this will happen again, or something even worse," you concluded, finally meeting his eyes with guilt in your own orbs as if you were scared that your words would make him feel worse or cause a negative reaction from him.
But everything you said was part of the consequences of his actions. He wasn't at all expecting things to suddenly go back to how they were after that night. Moving forward, Tom knew he had a lot of work to do. That included earning your trust back, to make you feel at the least bit safe around him again. It was definitely much easier said than done, but Tom will stop at nothing to fix all the things he'd manage to destroy.
"This is not going to happen again," Tom stated firmly, eyes never leaving yours so you could see how he was taking his words seriously. "I promise you, I'll work my hardest to never, ever let something like this happen again."
You tilted your head at him and stayed quiet, squeezing his hand to let him know you heard him. It was a few more seconds when you leaned closer and kissed him instead, always the first thing you do whenever you couldn't find the right words to say.
Tom sobbed softly at the feeling, a warmth spreading in his chest at the familiar taste, one that he'd been deprived of for far too long. His hand landed on the back of your head to keep you steady, close, never wanting to let go. His lungs be damned, he didn't want to pull away. Tom only wanted to relish at the feeling of your lips moving in sync, tender, unhurried, but filled with passion. He wanted to bask in the gratitude, the reassurance, the appreciation, and the utmost love you poured into the kiss.
Unfortunately, you two were merely humans, incapable of going too long without taking a breath.
Once you pulled away, you kept still in your place, remaining close in each other's warmth. Tom was already satisfied with everything, your calm breath fanning over his lips, tips of your noses touching so sweetly. But when you spoke again, his heart grew bigger, softer, and it made him ask what he possibly could've done to deserve someone like you in his life.
"And I'll meet you halfway," you whispered against his lips, fingers delicate against his cheeks as you stared right into his eyes. "Always."
It will take some time for your relationship to heal. Quite possibly, it will never go back to how things were, because gluing together the broken pieces will never bring things back to their original, untainted state.
But at least it will be the turn of a new leaf.
It will need much tender love and care, ample amounts of patience, a constant watering of effort to do better for that new leaf to grow into one that's much stronger, healthier than the last. There will be some rainy days, hopefully, lesser storms, days where the sun isn't shining, covered by dark clouds, so the growth won't be easy.
But Tom will gladly take up the challenge, knowing that in the end, it will bear healthier, beautiful, wonderful fruits in the form of fond moments and a strengthened relationship, all rooted with the ever-growing love that you two have.
And with one look at the beautiful woman he'd been so damn lucky to even have the chance to have her grace his life, there was no doubt in Tom's bones that it will be more than worth it.
All the work and effort, all the tests to measure his patience, when it's you with him, happier at the end of it, all will be worth it.
.✫*゚・゚。.★.*。・゚♛ *.
thank you for reading, sweets! like, comment, reblog if you enjoyed and lemme know your thoughts! x
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wazzupmrstark · 3 months ago
desperate || th x reader
Summary: the first time tom fucks you raw (sponsored by irresponsible decisions)
Warnings: swearing, smut (18+) additional warnings under the cut
Word Count: 2.6k
A/N: 1/4 of my 4k celebration fics, inspired by this ask and those pics of monaco
additional warnings: oral (m receiving), choking, unprotected sex, semi-public sex (bathroom), creampies
“Baby,” Tom groaned against your neck in an attempt to get your attention, but if you’d heard him you were choosing to ignore him as you continued to grind down onto his lap with your head buried in his shoulder. “Baby,” he tried again, “I don’t have a condom.”
He was still desperately rifling through his wallet with one hand and digging through the pockets in his jeans with the other in the hollow hope that maybe he’d find one.
He always carried condoms with him, he had since before you had started dating. How the hell was he missing one now- then it dawned on him. Last month, at that bar back in London when you had been wearing nothing under your tight black skirt and he just had to have you... god damn it, Tom, he thought to himself. He had used the last one then, when he fucked you in the bathroom that night. But now you were the needy one and he couldn’t even take the edge off for you.
Despite the circumstances at hand, Tom’s body was reacting accordingly to your actions. His cock was straining against his jeans and he was almost positive you could feel his erection against your thigh. And if your moans were any indication, he was right.
He sighed into your shoulder, and used his hands to still your hips. Your bottom lip jutted out in a pout momentarily before you began pressing languid kisses to his neck, sucking hickeys right underneath his jaw.
“Y/n, I-I don’t have a condom,” Tom stuttered out again and pushed on your shoulders to make sure you heard him this time.
“I don’t care,” you whined, slumping forward onto your boyfriend in defeat. “I want you so bad.”
“I know, darling,” he said in a hushed whisper, trying to ignore the way your hips were still rocking instinctively on top of his.
If you were at home it wouldn’t be such a big deal. Tom could just pop out to the shops and be back within the hour with enough condoms to go as many rounds as you wanted. But you were all the way in Monaco at the F1 Grand Prix- it wasn’t like you could just come and go as you pleased, once your ticket was scanned at the beginning of the day you were stuck there because the no re-entry policy was strictly enforced at all exits. You’d learned that the hard way on the first day.
When asked later, your friends would claim not to know where you and Tom had run off to. But everyone knew. You were a bit infamous for bathroom quickies, hence that night at the bar last month, and you had been before Tom was in the picture. Bars, restaurants, movie theaters, clubs, and department stores were all fair game to you. Today was no different. Tom was sitting on the counter with his back pressed against the mirror in one of the racetrack’s tiny, one-person facilities and you were straddling his lap.
Everything had been going routinely when Tom broke the news and you felt your heart (or rather, your pussy) shatter into a million pieces. He just looked so goddamn good in that pink shirt with his hair slicked back like that... fuck. And the way he’d been acting this weekend, so casually confident with his friends and the racers, it brought out something primal in you.
“You want my fingers?” Tom offered, holding up the middle and ring fingers on his left hand.
You shook your head. “Just want you.”
He chuckled lightly and brushed your hair out of your eyes. You knew you were being a brat, but you were too desperate to care.
“I know, but I already told you-”
“I don’t care that you don’t have a condom,” you sighed. “Just go without.”
Tom blinked at you in surprise. “Wha- are you sure?”
In all the time that you had been dating, you and Tom had never had sex without protection. It wasn’t that you were opposed to the idea, you were on the pill, but you had always been overly cautious and you and Tom had never really... talked about it before.
“Y/n?” You had fallen silent.
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
You could only nod at first before you could verbalize.
“I need to hear you say it,” he murmured, voice an octave lower than it had been a second ago.
“I’m sure,” you managed, “please, Tom.”
He smirked, biting his lip. “Of course, baby.”
You pushed yourself off of him and watched as he unfastened his belt. Your mouth watered as he pulled at the button and zipper on his jeans and you thought for a brief moment about how pathetic you were.
But as soon as Tom had freed himself from his pants you found yourself not caring anymore. The humiliation burning in your cheeks melted back into want and you felt the temperature in your whole body rise a degree or two.
Tom pushed his jeans down to where they sat bunched around his thighs and looked at you expectantly.
“Ready, angel?” he asked, dark eyes giving you a onceover.
It wasn’t often that you were the one fully clothed and Tom was the one exposed to you, but on the rare occasion it did happen you liked to take advantage of it.
“Wait, can I?” Your gaze fell to his lap and he cursed.
You smiled and licked your lips as you bent over to take him into your mouth. Tom wasn’t the biggest you’d ever had, but his cock was still able to hit the back of your throat, which you loved. You suppressed your gag reflex as best you could while you sucked him off, feeling the arousal simmering in your stomach multiply tenfold just because of how full your mouth was. He brought a fist to his lips and bit down on his hand to stifle his moans, tangling his other hand in your hair.
He twirled your hair around his fingers into a makeshift ponytail and tugged gently. You moaned around his cock and took him even deeper so that the tip of your nose was pressed against his pelvis.
“God, y/n,” Tom groaned, bucking his hips upwards into your mouth. “Sorry,” he grunted.
“S’okay,” you said with a smile, still somehow managing to keep your pace.
“So desperate for my cock, you’d take it any way you can get it, huh?”
You whined in response and nodded your head. You heard him laugh, then choke when you pulled off of him. He scowled at you as you licked a stripe from the base of his cock, along the vein, to the head, before taking him fully in your mouth again, making him throw his head back in pleasure.
“Stop, stop, I’m close,” he warned and pulled you off his cock by your hair.
If you weren’t so intent on having him inside you you would’ve finished him off there. He looked so hot like that- jaw clenched with restraint, stomach taught and firm, even under his shirt. And the way he looked down at you while you sucked his dick, fuck.
You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and leaned in to kiss your boyfriend on the lips. He met you halfway and pressed his lips to yours, smiling into the kiss. The taste of champagne lingered on his lips.
“C’mon, baby,” Tom grunted and motioned for you to climb on top of him.
You did just that and hiked your skirt higher up on your thighs, pushing your panties to the side so that he could have easy access to you.
You reached for him and used your knees to brace yourself on the counter before he held out a hand to stop you.
“Wait,” he said breathlessly, “let me taste you first.”
You watched as reached a hand under your skirt and used two of his fingers to collect your arousal before bringing them to his lips and sucking it off. When he was satisfied with his work he offered the same two fingers to you.
“Open,” he instructed.
You sucked his fingers into your mouth as he’d asked and moaned around them, which might have been a little over the top, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. Tom retracted his fingers after a couple seconds and kissed you again, cupping your face with both of his hands. He slipped his tongue into your mouth, groaning when you whimpered. You could taste yourselves on each other’s lips, but as you continued to make out they became indiscernible, a mix of both of you. All you knew was that you couldn’t get enough.
Tom struggled to pop the first few buttons on your shirt, but eventually got the hang of it, and unbuttoned the rest with ease, exposing your chest to the cold air.
“Fuck, I’ll never get tired of your tits,” he whispered, mostly to himself.
You rolled your eyes and pushed his shoulder lightly. “Tom, stop teasing me,” you begged.
Your entire body ached. You were clenching around nothing at this point and it was torture. You needed something inside of you right that minute and if Tom wouldn’t give it to you your own fingers would have to suffice.
“I’m not teasing you,” he insisted earnestly.
“Then fuck me already!”
He smirked for what felt like the millionth time and raised an eyebrow.
“You’re going to have to keep your voice down if you don’t want us to get caught, darling. Do you think you can do that?”
You nodded fervently, knowing it was a boldfaced lie. Tom knew it too- you had literally just been yelling at him to fuck you seconds earlier, but you were already this far and he’d made you wait so long already.
“C’mere,” he said lowly and put a hand on the small of your back to pull you closer. “Spit,” he commanded and held out his hand for you. You spat into his palm and watched as he used his hand to pump his cock a couple of times, ensuring that it was lubricated enough for you to take comfortably.
He then lined himself up with you and held back a groan as you sank down onto his cock. You sighed in relief at the feeling and wrapped your arms around his neck to steady yourself. You stayed there like that for a minute or so, not moving, just enjoying how full you felt.
Tom always felt good inside of you, but like this... without discomfort of the condom, without the resistance of the rubber or the texture of the latex, without anything in between you... it was indescribable. You could feel every vein, every curve of Tom’s cock. You could feel his pulse in your pussy and the sensation was enough to make you forget how to speak.
“G-god,” you gasped.
“You’re so fucking tight,” Tom muttered through clenched teeth.
“Feels so good,” you mumbled.
Tom managed a smile and brushed your hair out of your face. His smile faltered when you began to ride him without warning and he choked out your name along with a string of profanities.
You rocked your hips forward to meet Tom’s over and over again, moaning quietly every time the head of his cock brushed your g-spot. It wasn’t long before Tom was doing most of the work, slamming into you like his life depended on it. It was actually impressive, how hard he was fucking you in the position he was in. He was sitting upright with all of your weight on top of him and was still railing you like it was nothing.
“Is this what you wanted?” Tom asked, voice low and gravelly. “For me to fuck you like a slut?” You could only nod. “Answer me,” he demanded. “Are you such a desperate fucking cockslut that you couldn’t wait a few more hours like a good girl?”
“Yes!” you cried.
Tom brought a hand to your throat and wrapped his fingers around it, rubbing his thumb along your pulsepoint. He squeezed lightly, smiling darkly when your eyes rolled back in pleasure.
“Do you think you deserve to cum?” he asked, knowing you were close.
“Yes,” you whimpered.
“Do you think you can be quiet?”
“Yes. Please, Tommy-”
“Please what?”
“Please can I cum? I-I need to cum, fuck!”
You fell over the edge before your boyfriend could respond, not even allowing him the chance to get a word in before your entire body was overcome by waves of pleasure. Your vision went white as you rode out your orgasm and Tom held onto you tightly the whole time, whispering praises in your ear as you came down even though you knew you were in for it later.
Your thighs were still trembling when the aftershocks had finally subsided and you gave Tom a sheepish smile.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, baby,” he assured you. “I made you wait long enough.”
“You were teasing me! I knew it!”
Tom kissed you chastely on the lips and winked. “Couldn’t resist. You’re so fucking hot when you’re desperate.”
“Fuck you.”
“You already did.”
“And if I remember correctly, you haven’t come yet. I could always leave you hanging-”
“No! No, I’m sorry,” he apologized hastily.
You laughed and pushed his curls out of his face as you began to ride him again, ignoring your own arousal still burning in your stomach. Tom cursed, letting you know that he was right there on the edge.
“Where do you want me to cum? Your mouth? Your chest?” You didn’t answer and leaned down to kiss his neck instead. “Baby, I can’t,” he rasped, “I’m gonna cum if you keep doing that.”
“I want you to,” you whispered.
“I want you to cum inside me, Tom. Want you to fill me up-” your pleas were cut off with a moan as Tom came and you felt him tense underneath you as spurt after spurt of cum filled your cunt. If you thought you had felt full before-
You threw your head back at the feeling and helped your boyfriend ride out his high. It wasn’t enough to make you cum a second time, but the way his cock throbbed inside of you, the way he clenched his jaw and bit his lip as he came... it certainly... sparked something within you.
Tom was out of breath by the time he could open his eyes again and when he did he smiled at you from underneath messy curls and hooded eyelids, completely blissed out. He pulled out of you slowly, watching his cum drip out of you and onto the counter.
He turned around and snatched a few paper towels from the dispenser on the opposite wall and handed half the stack to you while he used the other half to wipe down the counter.
“What a gentleman,” you said sarcastically as you used the towels to clean yourself off. You knew when you stood up there would likely be more dripping down your legs, and that was if you could stand, but you would have to cross that bridge when you got to it.
“And they say romance is dead,” he quipped back cheekily, holding his hand out for your half of the used paper towels.
“Can’t imagine why.”
You watched from the counter as he threw them away and washed his hands. He pulled a couple more paper towels from the dispenser and wet them in the sink before making his way back over to you and just tossing them between your open legs.
“I know, right?”
i was super inspired to write this over the last few days which almost never happens to me but lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!
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spidey-sophie · 4 months ago
Red Light || Tom Holland Smut
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Pairing: Mob!Tom x Stripper!Reader (p.s. If mob!Tom isn’t your thing, you can still read this. It is never explicitly confirmed that he is a mob/criminal. Only implied once/speculated. He can be any kind of millionaire!Tom you want to imagine!)
Summary:  Every night there are a variety of customers. But this night is different. As you’re doing your usual dance routine, you notice the hottest guy you’ve seen in a while, and he is looking back at you, his eyes are burning your skin way more than the blaring stage lights. Who is this man and why do you feel this way? It’s almost like you’re doing this dance for him and his eyes only.
Word count: 12.2k
Warnings: drinking, smoking, smut, soft!dom!tom, guided female masturbation, edging/one little orgasm denial, oral (female + male receiving), fingering, spanking, ring kink (is there even such a thing?), multiple orgasms, squirting, slight choking, mirror sex, exhibitionism, cum play + swallowing. She also sucks on his fingers a lot, but it's me, so is that even a surprise? Explicit smut - minors dni.
Notes: This is the longest and dirtiest fic I ever wrote! After a loooong break it is finally here! I had so much fun writing this story and I hope you will enjoy reading it. I feel like I talked to so many people about this fic and I want to thank everyone for supporting me! First of all, thanks to everyone who liked and reached out to me after I sent that ask to @duskholland. I had no intention of writing it, but after all the feedback, I had to do it! Biggest thank you ever goes to miss impulsive gemini aka @sinisterspidey for editing this and beta reading it! You're a boss, chlo! Another big one goes to my bday girl @worldoftom who helped me with editing and HYPED me up to finally post this. Also, lovely @hypnotized-so-mesmerized and @nowayhomeparker for jumping in with a few ideas. I hope you'll enjoy reading it! Please let me know what you think, I am vvvv excited to read your comments! 
♡ Ily and happy reading ♡
“Are you nervous?” Your friend and coworker Natalie asks. You’re sitting in front of the large vanity mirror, LED lights showering you with brightness. This is probably your favorite part of the night - putting your makeup on in the right places, transforming into someone else for an evening. But, no matter how much you love doing this, going up on that stage makes your heartbeat rampant. You just smile at her, trying to hide the fact that indeed you are nervous.
“You’re going to be amazing.” She tightens her arms around you, leaving a trace of her glitter on your body. You watch her as she starts removing her wig, humming to the barely audible music from the stage. You’re the newest addition to the current setup, so everyone is being especially nice to you, always asking you if everything’s okay, offering help whenever you need it.
You don’t exactly hate your job.
Sure, it isn’t something that you ever thought you’d do, but here you are, trying to smear the right amount of highlighter over your chest and shoulders. Since backstage was a bit too crowded, you put on your headphones and play the song you’re about to dance to help you relax in the process. After six months, you still get a little nervous before going on that stage. Even though your coworkers often say there’s no reason for it, customers are either too drunk or too thrilled to see you and enjoy your talent. Still, you can’t control your nerves and you need music to stay calm. And sometimes you like to go through the dance routine again before going on stage.
Yes, your dream has always been to be a dancer. You've been showing talent since you were little. Some would say that you first started dancing, and then began walking. However, when you finally started dancing professionally, you never believed that you would do it without clothes. On the pole. In a strip club.
The salary is good. Customers are mostly decent. When, in rare cases, they aren’t, you can always count on the help of the security. You see this job as something temporary, until a better opportunity arises.
The club you work in is extremely popular. The owner made quite a reputation for himself and his club, so people from all parts of London often come to visit the famous “Cherry on Top”. All of the dancers have their own ‘thing’. You’re all shiny, oily, and sexy, and yet every one of you have your own flair. Ruby, who you’re the closest with, is on stage at the moment. She’s best known for her impressive pole skills. You witness her muscular arms holding her entire body on the pole, swinging and swaying. She was the first one who accepted you into the club and offered to give you some tips about pole dancing and flirting with customers.
Once she’s done with her routine, it’s up to you. You watch her collect the money from the floor, thanking the audience and running backstage.
As she passes by you, she whispers, “show them what they came for”, before running off with a wink.
Being the only professionally-trained dancer in the current setup, you made a name for yourself fairly quickly. Everyone already knows that they can expect a great show from you. You don’t only display your body, but also your talent. Or at least that's what you tell yourself. The owner of the club recognized your talent and enthusiasm and made you his main star.
You try to always put on a great show for your audience. Every Thursday night is your night - it’s the night when you do your routine for the first time. And then, you do the same the following Friday and Saturday nights. This time, you picked a rather unconventional outfit for a strip club.
You decide to start dancing wearing a suit. Under your loose-fitted black suit, you’re wearing the tiniest pair of lingerie, with jewels and matching pasties for your breasts. Getting naked in front of an audience was a bit odd at first, but you’re used to it by now. The owner of the club has strict rules and lots of security so you and the girls always feel safe. If someone is causing trouble or tries something that you aren’t comfortable with, all you need to do is to give a quick nod to the security and that guy will be out of the club in the next few seconds.
As you’re finally getting ready to get on the stage, you wink at Tuwaine, the security guy working today. He stands next to the stage, watching carefully over all of the customers, making sure everything is right and stays right throughout the night. You walk slowly up the few stairs until you’re finally on the stage. Just a few seconds ago, Tuwaine set up a chair in the middle of the stage. It’s not unusual for you to use props while dancing, but you’ve been excited for this routine for the entire week. You spot Ruby and Natalie at the bar, giving you thumbs up and cheering for you. They never miss your performances.
The lights are off and once you hear the first beat of the song, you take your place on stage and wait for the lights to come back. You stand in the center of the stage, keeping both hands raised above your head. The chair stands next to you with one of your legs on it, while you stand firmly on the floor with the other.
With the first ray of pink and purple lights you start moving, seductively swaying your hips, but only lightly at first. At the same time, you slowly move your right hand across your left one all the way down to your shoulders. 
As soon as the lights are completely on, your movements become more noticeable, stronger and more precise. You drag your right hand over the entire length of the leg that is on the chair. You finally move and strut provocatively behind the chair and caress the back of it with your hands while checking the crowd.
The first piece of clothing you throw away is your hat and you throw it at a table where several young men are, one of them obviously having a bachelor party. You wink at him and turn back to the center of the podium.
You get out of your suit jacket and since your eyes are now finally used to the bright lights you take a moment to look a bit through the crowd. You’re so used to doing this every week, so that you don’t even miss a beat now while exploring the faces of visitors.
Your dancing consists of lots of seductive movements--grinding on the pole, provocative thrusts with your hips, and lots of you touching your body. You want the audience to imagine their hands instead of your own. You love to be in touch with your body, to use your every little move to your advantage. While other dancers usually pick popular hip hop and trap songs, your taste is a bit different. You prefer dancing to softer, slower, more sensual tunes.
There is something about all that attention that you get when you are on stage--being the only thing that the sea of watching eyes is focusing on. Controlling them with your moves. Listening to gasps, moans, and applauses every time you peel off another layer of your clothes. The thought of being their fantasy, the center of their desire, excites you.
The room’s filled with guys, and sometimes girls, too. Every night there are a variety of customers. Businessmen, tech nerds, college boys, bachelorettes, middle-aged men who bring their sons, middle-aged men who want some fun, older guys, younger guys, politicians, celebrities, but also your neighbors. This night isn’t any different.
You recognize some familiar faces, the usual customers who are there almost every night. You nod to Gary, the nice guy who brings you flowers and offers to walk you home every night after you’re done with work. He never tried anything, and he never even paid for a private booth with you. He only brings you flowers and sometimes cards for your birthday or holidays.
Just as you are about to turn around and sit on the chair, you notice the hottest guy you’ve seen in a while. He’s sitting at the table behind Gary’s, while pink, purple, and blue lights illuminate him. And he’s looking at you. Once your eyes finally lock, he gives you the cutest smile. He’s wearing a black suit with a light blue shirt underneath, slightly unbuttoned to put his perfect chest on display. You quickly turn around, trying to hide the smile that he most certainly caused. It is not unusual for you to find someone cute in the audience, but this guy is truly something else. From the moment you saw him your heart started drumming and it’s no longer in sync with music. It’s beating faster, doing it’s own thing.
You slowly take off the lower part of the suit, and the cheering of the customers becomes so loud that it emphasizes the music. You sit on the chair and turn towards them and smile as soon as you make eye contact with any of the customers. But still, your smile is most sincere when it meets his honey-colored eyes. You can't describe exactly what attracts you to him so much and why you can't look away.
Is it because of his beautiful face, piercing eyes, or lips that are twisted into the most seductive smile? Is it because of the fact that he sits so casually, and again so masculine, strong, dominant? He is not sitting alone, and there are a couple of other young men at the table with him, two of them that look so much like him and another blonde sitting closest to him. But none of them radiate the same energy as him.
You have to remind yourself, again and again, that you have to dedicate your attention to other customers and take your eyes off of him. At that moment, you are only in a white shirt, and as you reveal one of your shoulders, you hear more and more sighs from the audience. The bottom of your shirt flares enough for all of them to see your shiny pink thong. The dance floor is already flooded with money, but they keep throwing you some more.
You slowly unbutton one shirt at a time and once again look at the mystery hot guy. As you do this, your hips move to the beat of the music and the speed at which you unbutton follows the rhythm. He can't take his eyes off you, as his eyes follow your hands like a magnet. And that's why you decide to tease him. You slowly move your hands from the already unbuttoned shirt and run them along the inside of your thighs. Spreading your legs apart and running your hands painfully slowly over your heat you can see him licking his lips, eyes glued on you. It’s almost like his eyes are burning your skin way more than the blaring stage lights. 
You play with the hem of your underwear, teasing the audience, but more so teasing him. He now has a fist in front of his mouth, squeezing it tight, so tight his knuckles are turning white. As much as this teasing is fun, it is that part of the song when you go up on the pole. You get off of the chair and finally take off your shirt.
As you throw away your shirt, you stand next to the pole taking your position and get ready to hop on it. The men howl at the sight of you clasping both of your legs around the pole and grinding upwards using the strength in your upper arms. Once you get high enough, you unclasp your legs from the pole and start slowly swinging back down, holding yourself with both of your hands. 
Quickly, you hook your right leg over the pole and hold it tight with your thigh muscle, releasing both of your hands from the pole, and using all of your strength to keep yourself on the pole with just your leg muscles. It took you some time to master the art of pole dancing. You still considered yourself a beginner, but it was fun. It brought more tips.
And now, it’s time for the big move--you’re supposed to turn upside down, hook your right arm over the pole and do a split. It’s a move you kept practicing with Ruby for the past few weeks and now you finally decide to try it. Turning upside down is easy; the harder part is doing a split from this position. In that moment your eyes wander to the mystery cutie and his eyes haven’t left your body, not even for a second. As your legs start spreading apart, his head is slowly moving forward, he’s totally lost in you, watching you in awe with his mouth slightly open.
Almost perfectly synchronized with your legs, his body leans forward. When you finally do the whole split, you notice an almost proud smile on his face. Who is this man and why do you feel this way? It’s almost like you’re doing this dance only for him and his eyes only.
When you're done with the pole portion of your routine, you slide down, grinding your ass on it. You smirk at all the bills the customers keep throwing at you. You lean your back against a cold, metal pole and start grinding your ass up and down. Almost everyone in the club is cheering for you, but he’s the only one you care about, the only one you’re looking at. 
And you’re also the center of his attention. The boys around him are talking but he’s not leaving you out of his sight. He brings one of his hands to his shirt, unbuttoning it a bit more and you notice the rings he has on his fingers. You run your hands up and down your body, while grinding, imagining your hands were his and the pole behind you was his lap.
Your song is almost over, so now it's time for the grand finale. You get up from kneeling next to the pole and strut your way a bit closer to the group of excited men in the front row. You turn around, bend over a bit, and slowly run your hands over your butt cheeks. You move your hands over your hips, waist, all the way to your shoulders. With an innocent expression you turn your head around to face them as you tug your bra strap. And with a faux surprised look on your face you do the same thing with the other strap.
Everyone in the room is howling now, and you finally unclasp your bra and throw it away in the crowd. You can’t help but smile at their reaction. No matter how many nights you do this, that feeling never goes away.
You turn around to face them now, and the first person you look for is the mystery guy. His eyes are now glued to your exposed breasts, only covered by two glitter pasties. He looks up to you and genuinely smiles, with an open mouth, his tongue slightly peeking from the edge of his lips. And then he does the hottest thing you’ve seen in a while--subtly, he tilts his head a bit, and burns through you with his eyes. The right corner of his mouth twitches and moves upwards, forming a devilish smirk. He nods at you, so fast and subtle that if you blinked you would’ve missed it.
You slowly get lower until you are on all fours, face down, ass up, twerking to the sound of beat. You smile to the guys around you, but you can’t help but feel a bit sad because you can no longer see the one you care about the most. Since the song will be over in a couple of seconds, you do another split, this time on the floor, close to your audience. You pick some money from the floor and throw it all over your head.
Slowly, the lights go off and you wait for the stage lights to completely shut down on you and rush backstage, trying not to drop any tips that you collected while dancing. You try to take one last look at the mystery hot guy, but the people around you are standing up, chatting, moving around, or dancing. The little wave of sadness rushes over you and you feel a slight embarrassment in hoping that he’d be waiting for you, cheering for you, or something else.
After your performance, you quickly change into something more decent and hurry to get out to the bar for a few drinks. Or, to be completely honest, look for the curly haired guy. It’s not like you plan to do anything with him, you just want to look at him a bit more, admire his pretty face and his smile.
Unfortunately, you can’t find him. Your eyes travel from one part of the room to the other, but he is nowhere to be seen. 
“Hey, superstar!” You can hear Ruby waving at you and inviting you to join her and Natalie at the bar.
“That was so hot! I got turned on, can’t even imagine how these wankers were feeling,” you hear Natalie from behind and, judging by the way she is hanging around your neck, she’s a bit tipsy.
“Thanks, turning you on was my main intention.” You and Ruby smile at her and order your drink while listening to Natalie gushing about Tuwaine, speaking about how sexy and beautiful he is. She always does this, speaking more to herself, every night after she gets a bit drunk. They have some sort of friends with-benefits, complicated relationship, and you know way too many details about it --way more than you want.
You just roll your eyes at Natalie giving him heart eyes and whisper to Ruby, “Uhm, did you, by any case, notice a ver…”
“OMG, here he comes, I can’t talk to that arsehole right now!” Natalie practically screams near your ear and leaves the two of you confused. Once Tuwaine approaches you, her behavior suddenly becomes clear.
“What was that?” he asks, “Nevermind, Y/N, someone asked for a private booth with you. You have ten minutes to get ready. Don’t kill the messenger.”
“What? Fuck, I told the boss I want to stop doing that.” You aren’t very fond of private booths. It’s one thing to be on stage, distanced from everyone, enjoying yourself and flirting with them while dancing. You don’t even mind occasionally strolling through the audience and making small talk with the customers. But being face-to-face with a customer always makes you nervous. The rules are strict – no touching, no kissing, and absolutely, in no circumstances, any kind of sex. And you’re thankful for those rules. Every booth even has a camera installed, something else you like.
“Yeah, he knows, but this is a very important client and he asked specifically for you.” You’re left confused and drain your drink before you go get ready.
“Who is that client anyways?” You ask while coughing a bit since the shot you just drank was a bit too strong.
“Someone from the Holland family.”
“From what?” You ask, having no idea who they are talking about.
“Oh my God, THE Hollands?” Ruby almost spills her drink all over her once hears the name.
“Who are the Hollands?” You are still clueless, but from the look on Ruby’s eyes, you’re the only one in the room who doesn’t know who the Hollands are.
“I can’t believe you don’t know who they are; they own, like, all of London. No one knows how they got so rich--probably some illegal stuff involved. Dad and four sons. I had no idea they’re here. Oh my God, please be safe, they might be dangerous.”
“I’m a big girl, Ru, I can take care of myself. But thanks. If anything goes wrong, I can count on this guy anytime.” You throw your hand over Tuwaine’s shoulders. You really have a genuine friendship, and whenever it’s his shift, you feel more safe. 
“Yeah, yeah, but you better hurry up.”
“I am, I am, thanks T.” The last thing you want right now is to go and dance for some stranger, and especially not for some fishy millionaire. You’re tired and you want to spend some time with your friends and get a couple of drinks. As you walk backstage to change your clothing, you can’t help but feel a bit embarrassed over the fact that just a few minutes ago you were looking for a cute guy who watched you dancing. What were you even thinking could happen? The owner of the club is always very clear - no sleeping with customers, not even after the show. He doesn’t want any allegations or anyone to think that his girls are up for anything other than dancing.
You put a pink wig on your head and pick a baby pink lace thong and a bra with rhinestones on it and rhinestone fringes falling from the bra cups all the way down to your thighs. You add a little lacy garter on your right thigh, and opt for a pair of five inch heels. After one last look in the mirror, you finally feel pleased with the way you look, and start walking towards the area with the private booths. Just as the name `private` says, the area is separate from the rest of the club. The club has six private booths, and almost all of them are always occupied. You nod to the security guy waiting in the hall, and get inside the booth where you’re supposed to be for the next fifteen minutes.
Every booth looks the same--round room with mirrors instead of walls, bordered with leather red furniture. A mini round white dance floor with a pole is located in the middle of the room, and it’s surrounded by the red couch. The lights are dimmed, and red, black and white colors dominate the room.
At first, you can’t see the face of the guy sitting in the center of the room. You can only trace the silhouette of his spread legs. The first thing you notice is his hands, holding the glass of whiskey. There are rings on his fingers and you’re sure you’ve seen them already. Once you’re close enough and you can clearly see his face, you recognize him right away. It takes you a lot to hide your smile, but you probably didn’t do a good job hiding since the first words he tells you are.
“Were you expecting someone else?” His voice sounds even hotter than you could ever imagine, mixed with soft R&B music that is pulsating lightly in the background.
“No one other than you, baby boy.” This is a line you used a lot before, but for the first time in a while you’re actually thinking it. He chuckles at your remark, still wearing that cocky smirk on his face.
You can’t believe that you’re face to face with him now. And that you’re about to dance for his eyes only. You get up on the dance floor and now you’re standing above him. Just looking down at him turns you on so much. You start swaying your hips to the beat, not breaking eye contact with him. He brings his cigar next to his mouth and your eyes are following his every move. The way his jawline tenses while he inhales the smoke drives you crazy.
“How long have you been working here?” he asks, smoke coming out of his mouth and his voice sounding a bit raspier thanks to it.
“Six months.” Usually, you don’t answer personal questions, but there's something about him that makes you open up to him. It’s not just his looks. It’s the way he is sitting, looking, and talking to you. It makes you a bit nervous, vulnerable, but also excited.
“I used to come here more often, can’t believe I never saw you before.” 
“Well, you’re seeing a lot of me now,” you wink and turn around. He can now watch your barely covered ass, but you can still see his face on the mirrors around you. And his eyes follow your every move like he’s hypnotized.
“What are the rules now? I haven’t been here in a while.” 
“No touching, no kissing, no fucking. Just watching.” You say, as you slowly sway around the pole. 
“You can undress, right?” He asks, his eyes lingering on you.
“Yes. Do you want me to?” You grab one of your bra straps, and pray he’ll say yes.
“Not yet. Can I ask you something while you dance?” 
“Will you be honest?” You start moving up and down the pole, now facing him and your back pressed to the pole.
“Anything for you, baby boy,” you wink at him and try to seem as calm and collected as possible. Everything inside you is burning now, palms sweating and legs shaking. You still cannot believe you’re one-on-one with the most beautiful guy you ever saw. And by the glint behind his honey eyes, he is just as infatuated with you. You can feel yourself getting turned on from dancing and from him.
He sits comfortably on the huge bed. His legs are spread, and between them his hand holds a glass of whiskey. You watch the way he brings it up to his mouth, the way his lips spread and the peek of his light pink, wet tongue. You can't help but imagine how much better his tongue would feel on your ass, instead of this cold metal. 
“What’s your name?” he finally asks, once he gulps one big sip of whiskey, not even a little twitch in his eyes after swallowing the bitter beverage.
“Oh straight for the hard questions. My name is Destiny,” you smile and he smiles back. It catches you a little bit off guard how much his face softens once he smiles.
“Okay, let’s try this again. Hi, my name is Tom, what’s your name?”
“Hi Tom, my name is Cherry,” you get on all of your fours now, crawling towards him. You stop once you get to the edge of the dance floor, waiting for his next move. Tom lifts up from his seat and leans closer to you, now only inches apart from your face. All of your senses immediately focus on his perfume. He smells sharp, warm and sexy, like vanilla mixed with cigarettes. Not breaking eye contact with you, he reaches for his back pocket, takes a bill and rolls it. 
“How about now?” he asks and brings the rolled bill next to your face. Since you’re still on your fours, the only way you can get your tip is if you take it with your mouth. Slowly, you open your mouth and take the bill from his hands. While you do that, you gaze into his eyes and notice the way they get darker, more lustful as you remove the money from his fingers with your teeth.
In a split second it almost seems like he starts leaning forward, like he wants to kiss you, but you quickly hop on your knees and stand up. 
“Harmony,” you say as you pull the bill out of your mouth and hook it under the thong, “or Doll, or Spice, or…”
“Fine, fine, I get it.” He says, now sitting back like he used to. “I’m sorry if I crossed any lines, I just can’t wrap my mind around the fact that I’ve never seen you before.” 
“Thank you, Tom. This might be your lucky night.” You try to tease him, but you’re still thinking about how sweet he seemed as he apologised. For a supposed extremely wealthy criminal millionaire, he is way too kind. And that turns you on even more.
You wrap your hands around the pole and start swinging, performing your usual routine. And for a few minutes he just sits there and watches you. For the entire time you’ve been in the booth with him, he always had his full attention on you. Tom watches your every curve, every move, every gesture. You reach to remove your bra, and with a slight nod, he gives you the approval to do so.
Once again you’re naked in front of him, his eyes leave yours and your nipples become the center of their attention. They’re so hard for him that it almost hurts. He can now clearly see how turned on he’s got you, and a smirk lingers on his face.
You tease him a bit more and run your hands over your breasts, fingers gently caressing your nipples and slightly pinching them. Tom shakes his head and whispers something to himself. The music is a bit too loud for you to decipher; the only word you can hear is “fuck”. Which, coincidentally, is exactly what you want him to do to you right now. He takes one big smoke of his cigar and runs his long fingers over his thighs, silver and gold rings shining under the low lights. The pants he wears are so tight that you can see the way every muscle on his leg flexes to the rhythm of your dancing.
Your hands travel down to your thigh and just as you grab the garter, you hear him say, “Leave that on.” And you do as he tells you.
“Do you like working here?” he asks and now you sit on the edge of the dancefloor. You spread your legs a bit, just to tease him. You’re still positioned slightly higher than him, so that his face is now on the same level as your core.
“Yes. Do you like doing whatever you do?” You decide to play his game. No matter how much your friends warned you about him, somehow you feel safe enough to ask him that.
“Actually, no. My turn now, have you ever desired a customer?” 
“Yes.” And you spread your legs a bit wider as you tell him that.
“Am I one of those customers?” Tom is once again too close to you, looking up at you with a devilish smile.
“You really want to know that?”
“I’m dying to know that,” and the smirk is now gone, he is playfully smiling at you, lighting the entire room as he does that.
“And why would you like to know that, huh? Does the thought of me getting wetter and wetter and touching myself while thinking about you turn you on?” 
“What if I tell you that it does?” He leans so close to you, you can almost feel his breath on your inner thighs. 
“In that case, my answer is maybe, but maybe not.” You enjoy playing this game with him way too much. And you are fully aware how dangerous everything is, but you just can’t stop flirting with him. The thought of him being turned on by you, the way he moves his hands over his legs, adjusting his shirt, the way his chain moves up and down as he is breathing, everything exhilarates you. You never behave like this with other customers. There was something about Tom, some magnetic force that keeps pulling you to him, from the moment you first saw him.
You can’t decide if it is his smile, his hands, his chest or the way his fingers kept holding and playing with the cigar, drawing all of your attention to them. Or maybe it’s about his innocent eyes and the fact that they are so contrary to his wicked smirk and sinful words coming out of those pretty pink lips.
You are in trouble, you can tell right away, but you love it.
“Can you do one thing for me?” he asks, finally breaking you out of your thoughts.
“Of course.”
“Can you do one of those splits like you did on the stage?” He asks so innocently, yet so demanding. 
“Yes,” you say and you spread your legs wide, sitting on the edge of the improvised dance floor waiting for his next move. He takes one big gulp of his whiskey, a little drop coming down on his chin and dripping on his bare chest. He doesn’t even bother to wipe it off, just licks the excess from his lips with his wide, pink, skilled tongue. You can't stop looking at that wet spot on his chest, traveling down to the unbuttoned area of his chest. At one point you even feel a bit jealous of that drop, since it can explore his body the way you never could.
“Show me.” Tom doesn’t have to tell you what he wants to see. It feels like you can read his body language perfectly. You do what you’re told. You grab your panties and pull them slightly to the side, exposing yourself completely in front of him. It’s surprising, even to you how wet you actually are. This never happens to you, so you can’t help but smile to yourself. As you move your panties to the side, you lightly brush your clit with your fingertips and your legs twitch. You let out a soft moan but quickly manage to keep your cool.
You are dying for him to touch you, to do anything to you, but you know damn well it’sagainst the rules. You can’t even bring him home after work, because that can put a bad reputation on the club and the last thing you want right now is to lose your job.
“You have no idea how much I want to taste you.” he mutters. The thought of him tasting you brings shivers to your spine.
“Unfortunately, if you do that I might call security.”
“And what if you don’t?” Tom answers almost mechanically, not even fully listening to you, his eyes completely lost in your pulsating cunt.
“See this little red dot on the ceiling,” you say and finally pull your panties back in their place, covering yourself. He looks up, “That’s a camera over there. So if you lay even one finger on me, the security will come bursting in here.”
“I think that is the last thing we both want, right pretty girl?” 
“So you better behave yourself, Mr. Holland.” Tom raises his eyebrow the moment he hears his last name coming out of your lips. In that moment you realize that he never actually told you his full name. You felt your heart drumming a little bit faster in your chest. You’re wondering if you crossed any lines with your last sentence. 
“Don’t you think that it’s quite unfair how you know my full name and yet I know nothing about you?” He teases, while adjusting and rolling up his sleeves a little bit. You feel an instant wave of relief mixed with joy. 
“I can’t give you my name, but I can give you a lap dance instead.” You offer, daring him with your eyes to say yes.
“Only if you want to,” and you do. You can’t even begin to explain how much you want to grind on him, feel him under you, tease him, play with him and drive him crazy. You don’t tell him anything, you just stand up and start walking towards him.
You turn around and steadily start winding your hips and getting lower, until you can feel his thighs on your heat. The only thing you’re wearing right now is a tiny pink thong, which is more than revealing. He can see everything and you decide to use that in your advantage. 
You keep switching your moves, swaying to the rhythm, leaning forward so that he could see your entire behind. Fortunately for you the room has mirrored walls so you can see his face for the entire time, even now, when you’re not facing him. He is leaning back on the bed, his eyes completely lost in your body, observing your every move. Whenever you lean forward and reveal more of your ass, you feel his thigh twitch and flex under you. And oh, does that feel good. You’re trying really hard to grind on his thigh and to do that subtly. You’re desperately trying to get some friction, some release and motion.
It’s undeniable that you’re turned on right now. You don’t even care that he can obviously tell that as well, since you can feel the wet traces you’re leaving on his thigh. The music is quietly murmuring through the speakers as you move your body perfectly in sync with the beat. Suddenly you feel something cold, a strange, sharp object running up and down your spine. At first you think it must be your nerves, but once you feel it again, you turn around to face him.
“You know I said no touching?” 
“I am not touching you, gorgeous,” Tom says and he brings his hands forward, right above your thighs. He brings the back of his hands so close to both of your thighs but his skin is not touching yours. There isn’t any skin to skin contact, the only thing touching you are his large rings. And he runs his hands like that all over your inner thighs, the cold metal making your skin melt. You feel goosebumps as you watch his hands in awe. His fingers are long, bony with a few tiny veins popping on them. As he moves you manage to notice his bruised knuckles and those make his hands looking even more captivating.
“Are those for me?” He asks and you twitch a little, you didn’t expect him to talk, you got so lost in your thoughts about his fingers on you. Inside of you.
“Sorry, what?” You ask and finally turn your whole body, straddling him completely with just a few inches between your faces.
“The wet traces you left all over my thighs? Are those for me?” 
“Yes,” you say as you watch a proud grim appearing on his face. It is too late to pull back now, even though you have no idea what he’ll do next.
He keeps his hands next to his body but you can see the way his biceps is tensing through his thin shirt. He wants to touch you just as much as you want him to do so. 
“Also, about that question you have been dying to know the answer…” you say and notice the way he furrows his eyebrows while waiting for what you have to say next, “the answer is yes.”
His eyes are now completely lost on your lips. He swipes his tongue over his pink, chapped lips and leans in. Instinctively you lean forward as well. You feel his nose brushing over yours and you close your eyes, completely forgetting where you are and that you are in a club and that he is just a customer. You pull back a little once you’re aware of that and hear him whisper on your lips. “Wait here one second for me, okay?”
You nod and stand up so that he can move. He furiously storms out of the booth, not even turning back, and you have a sinking feeling in your stomach. Did you do something wrong? Nervously waiting for him or for anyone to come back, you start walking from one corner of the room to the other. 
After what feels like forever, you grab your bra and start to untangle the little jewels and beads. Maybe you’re a fool for trusting him and revealing way too much, but you decide to get dressed and look for him. Just as you finally untangle the last bead, you can hear someone walking inside the booth.
“Hey, I was just about to…” and you can’t even finish your sentence, as he interrupts you with his lips. Crashing them into yours, finally. 
You never experienced a first kiss like this. He isn’t going slow or taking his time. He presses his lips hard on yours, not wasting any second now. Almost instantly he flicks his tongue over your lips and you part them, letting him in. The moment his tongue touches yours you can taste the alcohol mixed with mint. His tongue feels soft and warm as it eagerly glides over yours.
You’re so focused on his tongue and his lips that you haven’t even noticed that his hands are now all over your exposed back. His hands are cold, almost as cold as those rings felt on your skin. It’s such a sharp contrast between his warm tongue and his cold hands. As they trail down to your ass and squeeze it lightly you moan into his mouth. It’s almost like the sound of that moan was your call back to sanity and you pull away from him immediately.
“We can’t, I might lose my job, the owner will be so mad at me,” you blurt this all out while trying to catch your breath.
“I’m sure he won’t mind.” Tom says and you blink at him, still not fully understanding what he’s trying to tell you. You open your mouth, trying to come up with the next question and he gives you the answer before you can even ask him. “You work for me now, I just bought the club.” He doesn’t even flinch when he tells you that. You smile at first, thinking that he must be joking but the more you stare at his dead serious face the more you are convinced that he actually did buy the entire club because of you. Just for you.
“Fuck…” is the only thing you can say before you crash your lips onto his now. You can finally touch him and you do that carefully, dragging your palms over his jawline and delicately placing your fingers onto his soft hair. His hair feels so soft under your touch, almost as soft as his tongue. You still cannot believe that you’re kissing the hot guy who you were eye-fucking with just an hour ago, so you open your eyes just to make sure that this is all real. And it’s almost like he felt what you did, so he opens his eyes, too. You smile at this and break the kiss.
“What?” Tom asks, stealing a little peck while he waits for your answer.
“Nothing,” you smile, running your hands up and down his while he is holding you by your waist.
“You want this, right?”
“Yes,” you put your lips on his and moan into his mouth and bite his bottom lip. As you start kissing him again, your hands travel down to his shirt. Without breaking the kiss your fingers start working quickly to remove his shirt. Once he’s out of his shirt you can see the way his chiseled abs are moving up and down as he is breathing. You trace your finger over his chest all the way down to his abs and he leaves a small moan into your mouth.
As he breaks the kiss, he throws his shirt on the floor and starts sucking on your neck, leaving cold wet traces underneath your ear. He has no problems finding your sweet spot and sucking on it even harder. There will most definitely be a mark, but at this point, you don’t even care.
Your hands move to his zipper, but he stops you. 
“Turn around, take off your panties and bend over while you’re doing it.” He tells you sternly, and you just nod in response.
You turn around and grab the waistband of your panties and start pulling them down slowly, revealing more and more of you. They’re soaked with your wetness, and as cold air hits you down there you start clenching at nothing. You take one look at Tom and throw your panties at him. You want to catch him off guard, but he somehow manages to catch them. He doesn’t even look at them, just quickly puts them in his pocket. 
“I want you to touch yourself, just like you would later while thinking about me.” 
“And what makes you think I’d do that?” You turn around to face him and chuckle.
“I saw the way you were looking at me while you were dancing over there, princess. Also, I have this as proof,” and he points to his pocket, where he put your panties.
You spread your legs and lay on the dance floor. Taking your time, you move one of your hands slowly over your breasts. You try to maintain eye contact with him while running your fingers up and down your stomach. Almost involuntarily you start clenching and you can feel your belly tensing under your fingers. Tom looks so hot, sitting down, taking one more sip of whiskey, shirtless, the only thing he has on his upper body being his silver chain. You were naked in front of him for the majority of this evening and yet he is once again too lost in you. If you thought you had him wrapped around your fingers while you were dancing, you were wrong. Now it almost feels like you’re hypnotizing him with his movements. You can swear he even stopped breathing, waiting for you to finally start touching yourself down there.
You take a lot of time to finally get your fingertips where he wants them. You can’t help but look over at his chest, his glowy skin as you’re running your fingers over your own. Still, you’re not touching yourself, you’re just running fingers over your folds, slightly spreading them so he can have the better view of you entirely. You’re so turned on that even this slight movement gets your fingers moist.
“Rub your perfect clit for me, princess,” he says, now propped up on his elbows, eyes dark and focused.
Slowly, you start rubbing small circles over your swollen bud. From the moment you touch your over sensitive clit you start moaning. There is no way you can stand propped on your elbow now, so you lay back down and break eye contact with him for the first time that night. Yet, now you can focus more on his voice and his silent moans, mixed with your louder ones. 
You don’t want to go too fast, because then all of this will be over too soon. You tease your entrance with your index finger, just a little bit to collect your wetness and spread it over your clit, making your movements even easier. This feels so good and you don’t want to stop. You can’t slow down now, you’re too close to the edge.
“Slower, I don’t want you to cum like this.” You lift your head up to look at him. He is palming his cock through his tight pants, clearly very impatient and yet he decides to tease and torture both of you.
And you run your fingers over your clit gently and slowly. Yes, this feels good but you want his hands instead of yours. Those slim, lean and bony fingers, you want them on you, rubbing and fucking you. 
It is so hard to keep yourself calm and away from cuming. If you open your eyes you’ll see him, shirtless, with the exasperated look on his face and his chest flexing with every small breath he takes. If you close your eyes, you’ll imagine his fingers, those rings and bruised knuckles buried deep inside of you, rubbing you instead of your own.
“Put two fingers inside,” and you do as he tells you. Your fingers go inside with such ease. As you start moving them inside, the sound of wetness echoes the room. Almost instantly, your hips start bulking up, trying to squeeze your fingers even deeper. You’re hitting just the right spot and start shaking, your movements becoming sloppier and faster. 
“Are you close?” he asks.
“Fuck...yes.” You can barely answer, your words mixed with moans.
“Then stop.” It takes you a lot of willpower to stop, now that you’re so close to reaching that high. But you listen to him. You are so sensitive and close to your orgasm that it takes you a few seconds to calm down and stop shaking. Eventually, you get up on your elbows, with your legs still spread and hanging down from the edge of the dance floor.
After what seems like a century, he finally stands up and comes closer to you. Tom is smiling and bringing the glass with what’s left of his whiskey in his hand. You watch his every move and breathe fast, still trying to calm yourself down from that previous edge. He walks towards you and comes near the edge of the dance floor, between your legs.
“Open your mouth,” he asks, now standing above you. You look up at Tom and do what he tells you. You watch him as he brings his glass over your mouth and starts pouring some whiskey down on you. It tastes so bitter and warm since the ice already melted a long time ago. As much as you try to catch the most of the strong beverage with your tongue, a few drops start leaking down your chin all the way to your breasts. You gulp it down, wincing as it burns on your tongue and down your throat. He chuckles at your reaction and slowly pushes you down on your back again. 
Tom puts the glass next to you and starts kissing down your neck until he reaches your niple, covered with whiskey. He sucks on it, licking it clean. It feels so good, the way his warm tongue traces over your nipples. You’re squirming and moaning under his mouth and nothing but a few “oh my gods” and moans escapes your lips. Tom’s skilled fingers are playing with your other nipple while he is still licking your other one, making sure to lick all of the whiskey off of it. 
He takes his time on your nipples. As much as you enjoy him there, you’re burning with desire and want him to help you ease some of the tension that has been building ever since you first laid your eyes on him. Your blood pulsates in every direction, leaving you dizzy, heart beating, breathing heavy and melting under his tongue, teeth and lips on your nipples.
Finally, it feels like Tom decided to end this sweet torture and starts moving lower and lower on you. Without any intention you start buckling your hips when you feel his warm lips glading over your belly. 
“Someone’s impatient,” Tom smiles and lifts his head up. He leaves one peck on your pubic bone and completely ignores that area. That sweet place that is yearning for him so much. Instead of kissing, licking or doing anything to your swollen bud, he moves to your inner thighs. Tom leaves plenty of kisses on them, biting and marking your skin, making you his. He is breathing heavily, but his breathing can’t even match yours. Your fingers are now entangled in his curls, guiding him as he keeps sucking on your thighs. He starts moving lower and lower until your hands can’t no longer reach him.
Once you open your eyes, you prop yourself on your elbows. You watch him leaving open mouth kisses on your inner thighs and once he reaches your lacy garter he puts it between his teeth. Slowly, he begins pulling it all the way down your leg, his hot breath making your skin shiver. 
“Aren’t we supposed to be married first?” you ask him once he has you undressed completely. Tom chuckles and brings himself near to your face.
“Don’t you know that I always try to bend the rules?” you moan into his lips and he kisses you. “But, if a lady insists, I can give you one of this,” he lifts his hand up and puts it between the two of you. “I saw the way you were looking at them, you can have one.”
After giving him an ‘are you sure’ look you decide to take it. And since you’re propped on your elbows, the only way you can take the ring for yourself is if you do it with your mouth. Which is exactly what you do. You open your mouth and put his entire index finger inside while not breaking eye contact with him. You look up at Tom, with the most innocent look you could muster. He is not saying anything to you. The only thing he can do is mouth an inaudible ‘oh’ while shaking his head in disbelief. 
You wrap your lips around the base of his finger tight until you hook the cold metal ring between them. His fingers are so long, they almost make you gag. You close your eyes while you suck on his finger, pulling out the ring, sliding it over each of his knuckles. You can’t help but imagine that instead of his finger you’re sucking something else. Something bigger. You start moaning and sucking a bit harder. With a wet plop you pull the ring out and open your mouth. You put your tongue out, showing your conquest to him.
“You’re going to be the death of me,” Tom says while he watches you hold the ring between both rows of your teeth and lift a hand towards your face. You study his ravenous face while you push each of your fingers through the loop, testing them out and looking for the one that perfectly fits
Finally, he kneels until his face is at the same level as your core. You spread your legs a bit more to give him easier access to your warm core. He licks one long strap, from your clit all the way down your entrance. You can feel him smirking once he feels how wet he got you and he hasn’t even touched you down there yet. 
“You taste even better than I imagined,” the vibrations as he talks that close to your clit make you shiver. Tom starts moving his tongue against your clit, flicking it so slowly and lightly, but you are already so worked up, you start jerking your hips almost immediately. He takes his time, licking long straps at first, not putting any pressure on your bud. 
Both of you moan as he starts lapping your clit with his tongue, slowly and steadily. Being too sensitive from the previous edge, you can barely hold yourself up on your elbows. He keeps licking your inner lips and occasionally slipping his tongue inside of you, fucking you with his mouth. He seems to know what he’s doing, teasing you even more like this. As soon as you start buckling your hips up, he moves his tongue from your pulsating clit to your entrance. Your moans keep getting louder every time he comes back and once again focuses on your clit.
“Will you please let me cum?” Your voice trembles with anticipation.
“Since you’re asking that nicely,” Tom smiles and kisses your lower back before going back to your heat. You’re still not used to how much his face softens when he smiles. But it’s the dark spark in his eyes that turns you on and makes your heart race even faster. It feels like he’s unravelling you with his tongue.
He flicks his tongue over your clit a few more times, before beginning to suck on it. As he does that, you roll your eyes and start breathing even harder. And it’s almost like he knows exactly what to do to you and where to pay more attention. He tries to hold you in place with one of his hands, while keeping your legs apart with others. 
You can feel your heat building in the base of your stomach, pulsating. Warmth moves all over your body, coursing through your bloodstream. Tom starts sucking harsher on your clit, pulling it between his lips. His face looks like a wet mess right now, spit and your wetness leaking down on his chin. 
“Please don’t stop doing that,” is the only thing you can say before you start falling apart under his mouth. Your hips ride the way his tongue flicks over your clit. You grab his hair with both of your hands and glide over his wet tongue, stimulating your oversensitive pussy, moaning and heavy breathing. It almost feels like a dream, this intensity of the pleasure that came over your body. Tom has to hold your stomach, just to keep you in place so you won’t ruin not even one second of this ecstasy. 
Tom helps you ride your orgasm to it’s last drop by keeping his strong, muscly tongue in place, letting you control the rhythm and ride it the way it works best for you. Curses and his name are the only things coming out of your mouth as you come down from your high. Finally, his lips leave your sweetest place and he starts kissing your stomach, nipples, all the way up to your neck. Once he reaches your lips he kisses you hard, teasing you and opening them with his tongue. Instead of kissing you back, he pulls away and whispers over your lips.
“Now get on all fours,” and you do as you're told, with your face down and ass up in the air, facing him. Even though you have your back turned on him, you can still see him if you look at any of the mirrors around you. 
 He runs his hands over your butt cheeks and playfully smacks your right cheek.
“Is this okay for you?” you nod.
“Can I go a bit harder?” Tom asks while looking at you through the mirror. You nod once again. “I need your words for this, love.”
“Yes.” And as soon as you say that you feel a slight tingling on your cheek as he has finally smacked you. Not too rough, but hard enough for you to quiver. Unexpectedly, this turns you on a lot more than you ever imagined.
“Should I stop, was this too hard?” he asks, with a genuine worry in his voice, soothing the skin where he slapped you.
“Please don’t,” you moan and feel his hand on your cheek again, slightly harder this time. It tingles, the warmth spreading from your cheek all over your lower back. He soothes your skin one more time with his fingertips. So delicately and gently. And it’s almost like those few slaps heightened your already sensitive skin and you can now feel his every movement. As he caresses your cheeks, his fingers tenderly nudge your wet entrance. 
You expect his next move, already prepared for the burning sensation but you don’t feel his hands on your ass anymore, “You sure about this?”, he asks and you look up at him in the mirror and see Tom holding a condom in his hands.
“Yes,” you moan and in that exact second you can hear him ripping the condom and positioning himself from behind. You instinctively spread your legs for him, waiting for him to enter you. Tom places one of his hands on your waist, digging his fingertips into your skin. He is moving his dick over your folds, getting him nice and wet before sliding it into you. With every little move that he makes you can feel your belly and thighs clenching.
Only a few more strokes after and Tom gently starts stretching you out with his member. It takes a few seconds for you to get used to his girth and with a loud gasp you let him know that he can start moving now. And once he starts moving it feels so good, so exciting and pleasurable. It feels so fulfilling to finally feel him inside. 
Tom takes no time before he is already balls deep inside of you. With every thrust he leaves a deep groan filled with pleasure. One of his hands is still on your hips and you can feel him slightly pushing you upwards, all the way up to his chest, still not pulling out of you. The first thing you feel once your back hits his perfectly toned chest is the way his cold chain is bouncing, caressing and sliding over your warm skin. It is almost embarrassing how turned on you are by him and everything he does. So much that even the way he wears his chain makes you so aroused.
“I want you to watch how beautiful you look while I’m so deep inside of you,” Tom whispers into your ear and as much as you enjoy having your eyes closed, you manage to open them up and see his hand wrapped around your breasts while the other one is trailing down your stomach, his lengthy fingers reaching for your clit.
Thanks to the way the mirrors are hung on every wall in the booth, you can see his movements from every angle. The way every single one of his muscles is flexing, his hips swaying once he is bottoming in and out of you. Once his fingers reach down your pulsating core and starts rubbing the pleasure becomes almost unbearable to you. You reach for his hands to get more stability and start trembling in front of him. The only thing you can see right now is the smug on his face as his merciless fingers and thrusts are making you cum so hard on him. With the loud moan you reach your high and ride it, his fingers finally slowing down but never completely stopping. 
“Fuck, gorgeous, you look like an angel,” Tom says and starts leaving warm and wet kisses on your neck and ear, still holding you tight. After a few long and slow thrusts he picks up his rhythm again, that ruthless and fast rhythm that gets you on the edge of another orgasm in no time. After a few thrusts he starts rubbing your clit once again, pressing that lovely spot of pleasure both from the inside and outside. 
The wave of pleasure comes even faster now, leaving you no time to adjust or open your eyes and focus on him. His hot breath is all over your shoulder and once you hear his voice, moaning into your ear you can’t help but let go, moaning and thrusting towards his arm this time even harder. 
“Tom, please don’t stop,” you moan a desperate cry for more, for another release, another round of pleasure. He picks up his pace and you can feel your legs trembling involuntarily next to his. The familiar surge of another orgasm makes your moans and breathing erratic. Once it finally hits you, you leave a high pitched cry and Tom pushes you down, stopping his movements, just holding you in place.
“Fuck baby, if I start moving now, I’ll cum as well,” he is not thrusting, the only movement you can now feel is his dickf throbbing while still deep inside of you. You open your eyes and look at him in the mirror. Your eyes instantly lock with his. You can see the way he smiles at you while there are a few drops of sweat traveling between his chest. 
“Cum in my mouth,” as much as you want to keep him inside of you, you also want to taste him. He pulls out of you and you immediately feel so empty while cool air brushes over your folds. Tom stands up and removes his condom while you turn around and starts licking his shaft up and down. You start sucking on it, taking it in as much as you can. Tom puts his hands on your head, but he is not forcing you towards him. He is removing the strands from your pink wig off of your face. 
You open your eyes and look up at his face, his eyes shut down and curse words coming out of his pretty pink lips. As you look in the mirror behind him, you can see the way his ass cheeks are tensing, gently fucking your mouth. That sight excites you so much. If you thought you were done after your third orgasm, you were wrong, cause you can feel the familiar pulsating feeling deep down inside of you. You reach down and start lightly pressing on your clit, not going too fast cause you don’t want to lose focus and mess with the way you’re pleasuring him.
“I’m cumming,” Tom says as warm, sharp and salty liquid fills your mouth. You keep moving your head up and down, guiding him through his pleasure. Not stopping until he backs away, trembling from pleasure. Your mouth suddenly feels so empty, even though there are still traces of him there. You tried to gulp it all down, but the thickness and saltines of his cum and the way he pulled out of your mouth so abruptly makes you spit a few drops on your chin and chest. 
"Sorry…" Tom breathes out as he tries to calm down from his orgasm. 
"No, no, it's okay…" your fingers travel down your chest to pick up a few drops of cum sliding down. Your other hand is still down there, pressing your clit and drawing out the heat you felt just a few moments while you were sucking him off.
"Wait, I'll help," Tom kneels down in front of you and picks up the traces of him from your chest. He looks around, "I need to find a tissue to wipe my fingers off," but you grab him by the hand and guide it towards your mouth. You start licking his fingers clean and his face quickly turns from surprised to turned on. He makes sure you lick them all, pushing them deeper and deeper into your mouth, until a few tears form in your eyes. It is only then that he finally notices that you've been teasing and dragging your fingers over your entrance the entire time.
"I fucked you so hard and you still want more, princess? You are insatiable." He quickly pulls his hand out of your mouth and you release a disappointed grunt. But it doesn't last long, because he slides two of his already wet fingers into your pussy. 
"Yes…" you moan as he starts picking up the pace. But Tom doesn't go fast this time. He keeps teasing you, pushing his fingers slowly, so deep inside of you and then pulling them in to rub your clit for a few glorious seconds. He repeats this motion way too many times for you to keep up. It’s almost like you’re floating. 
You are overstimulated, all of your senses focus on the pleasure he keeps giving you with his fingers. It isn't until he speeds up and starts fingering you that you finally start letting go and giving up to him completely. Tom tries to keep you in place, but your legs are trembling and you are not sure how much longer it'll be for your knees to give up.
"Is this okay?" Tom asks as you feel his long fingers gently wrapping around your neck. You nod and moan, not being able to produce any coherent word. Not quite sure is it his delightful movements on your g-spot, his voice or the way his other hand keeps pressing on the sweet spot on your neck, but in almost no time you can feel the oh-so-familiar feeling finally building up enough to explode. 
It’s like you’re in slow motion, the only thing you can feel are his fingers pressing the right spot at the right speed. A loud low growl escapes your lips as you ride the most joyous orgasm you ever felt. Wetness is dripping out of you, all over the floor and him. He kisses you breathlessly, like he never wants to let go of you. You're sure he can still taste himself on your lips, but he doesn't seem to mind. Tom looks so hungry for you, cupping your face with that same hand that was on your neck just a few moments ago. Once he stops, he mumbles a little "fuck", his forehead resting on yours.
"Let me help you clean up," you can barely speak, your voice still shaking.
"Of course not, darling, wait for me 'till I get you some towels," Tom hands you your panties from his pocket once he finally pulls his pants up. He doesn't even bother to properly button up his shirt, he just throws it over his shoulders, having his toned chest and that silver chain on display. You can't help but smile once you're on your own. You have no idea what you have gotten yourself into, but you're more than excited to try it out.
Once he gets back, he immediately starts cleaning your wetness from your thighs, going thoroughly over your skin.
"It's Y/N by the way."
"It feels like we’re doing this backwards, but it’s nice to finally meet you, Y/N." Tom lifts his head up and gives you a disarming smile. 
"I figured, since you're my boss now, it's only fair that you'd know my name, y'know, to sign my paychecks and stuff like that…" you can feel the butterflies forming in your belly and there was no turning back now. 
"I know they say that the boss shouldn't have any favorites, but I think I already have one."
"I just hope you won't change your mind once you meet the others," you lift your head up and your bliss gets interrupted once you see one little dot blinking. The red light you completely forgot about. That's when you feel a sudden change in your heartbeat. "Tom, there is a camera up there!" 
"So..? I mean is that a problem?"
"Well, if there was anyone in the back office, they could've seen us!"
"I'm sure we gave them one hell of a show," you can't help but feel relieved. The way he handles things that could be a problem somehow makes you feel more attracted to him. You smirk and he starts leaving soft kisses on your inner thighs, "speaking of, wanna give them another one?"
"Right now?" You laugh and playfully mess with his curls, completely ruining his hair. Tom lifts himself up and comes near to your face. He leaves a few pecks on your lips. You part your lips and deepen the kiss. His kisses are different now. Less needy. Slower, deeper. Meaningful. 
Once he parts his lips from yours, he says "Right now."
"Well, look who is insatiable now," you say and grab his silver chain, pulling him back to you and kissing him once again. Seems like it’s going to be one long night.
Taglist: @thefallenbibliophilequote @beverlyparkerr @ladykxxx08 @devotion @dvhling @svturtles @mlmarint @lovelytholland @nehirsu @veryholland @hollandcrush
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ptersmj · a month ago
" i'm not letting you sleep on the couch. come on. get under the blankets. " with peter please!
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w/c: 1,718
warnings: like one swear and a suggestive joke
a/n: apparently my days of writing short and sweet blurbs are over because this goes on forever? lmfao damn but seriously i hope u enjoy <3
as fate would have it, you’ve been best friends with peter parker for almost your entire life. he came to your rescue when you got stuck on the slide during your first day of kindergarten, and that’s when everything fell into place. you two took turns hosting play dates and grew a bond that could never break.
it’s withstood all the obstacles that are thrown your ways, even peter’s top secret identity that you weren’t supposed to find out about. peter once left the spidey suit in a pile of dirty laundry by accident, and you saw it. he actually made you spit shake on you keeping his double life to yourself. that was gross, but you did it for him.
you’d do anything for him. he’d do the same, honestly more, for you. you love each other unconditionally. not only as friends, as much more than either of you have the guts to admit. there’s a decade of history between you to prove it.
so, while you and peter sit shoulder to shoulder on your couch watching freaky friday, you each mentally pray the other will make a move.
“if you could switch bodies with anyone for a day, who would it be?” peter wonders, a smirk pulling at his lips. “wow, how thought provoking. i wonder how you came up with that,” you sarcastically comment. he rolls his eyes, still smiling nevertheless. “just answer the question.”
you look from the tv to peter and return his smile. “um, i dunno... you.” not pleased, peter scrunches his nose up. “me? why me?” your response is a shrug.
he shifts his legs around on the cushion, body now turned so it’s facing you.
“that’s so boring. you already know everything there is to know about me, y/n/n,” peter reprimands, poking your side lightly. “pick somebody else.” you elbow his arm with a scowl. “no, i pick you. i’ll always pick you.”
peter’s heart starts to beat a bit faster upon hearing you say that. he feels his cheeks getting hot, so he turns back towards the tv before you notice. you observe the shift in energy and quickly change the topic.
“there’s a whole bunch of cool shit you can do. like, i wanna be able to climb walls,” you propose and grab the bowl of popcorn on your coffee table. peter steals a handful, tossing it up and catching it in his mouth. “it’s not as fun as it looks, being spider-man. you couldn’t last a day.”
your eyes narrowed, you throw a piece of popcorn at peter’s chest. “is that a challenge, spidey?” he flicks the popcorn off his t-shirt and back in the bowl. “nuh uh. after seeing the things i have, i don’t want you anywhere near the superhero life.”
his arm slings around your back and draws you into his side. that counts as a move, you choose to believe. you lay your head on his shoulder, biting down on your lip to suppress a grin. peter rests his cheek against the top of your head.
the two of you refocus your attention to the movie, all warm and cuddly.
at some point between mean girls and jennifer’s body, you both pass out. you wake up first, to end credits and peter fast asleep on you.
you’ve switched positions so peter is laying on your shoulder with his face nuzzled into the side of your neck. his curls tickle your cheek, soft breaths leaving his lips which are dangerously close to your skin.
he seems so peaceful, you’re tempted to let him stay like this. however, you’d rather not spend the night on the couch when your perfectly good bed is mere feet away.
“pete,” you whisper, to which you receive a light snore as a response. dork. grabbing the remote, you hit pause on the movie. “peter,” you try again and louder. he stirs a bit this time, yet remains mostly unfazed.
your hand tangles in his messy locks and brushes them off his forehead. you continue to weave your fingers through his hair, peter pressing a kiss to the side of your neck.
crap, did he just…
peter suddenly shoots up in his spot, practically giving himself whiplash as he does so. you wince while he blinks the sleep out of his eyes.
“what time is it?” he speaks lower than usual.
are you supposed to ignore what just happened? peter was disoriented from waking up only seconds ago, sure. but, he kissed you.
“uh…” you trail off, checking your phone. he’s not going to like what you have to say. “shit, it’s a little after three.” peter gasps and shakes some cookie crumbs off his shirt. “in the morning? oh my god, may is gonna freak! she’s probably freaking already.”
you sigh. “she’s always freaking.” hopping off the couch, peter collects both your garbage. “for good reason, y/n! i mean, her nephew is literally me! i don’t make things easy.” he shuffles into your kitchen and heads to the trash can.
peter is a nervous cleaner, though you wouldn’t expect it from the state he keeps his room in.
“i’d freak all the time if i was my aunt, too,” he grumbles to himself.
you can’t help but be endeared by his mini rant because it’s just so him. oh, you’ve got it bad for this boy.
“the one time we branch out and do movie night at your place, this is what we get,” peter complains while flopping down next to you, carrying his sneakers. “i should go before may reports me as missing… again.”
your brows knitted together, you grab his hand to stop him from tying his shoelaces. he glances up at you with wide eyes, like a deer in headlights.
“i get it, but you can’t be swinging around the city at this hour. just stay here, peter,” you softly suggest. peter realizes you haven’t let go of his hand yet, and he doesn’t want you to. a shy smile pulls at his lips. “uh, i guess i could. maybe it’ll give may some time to calm down.”
his fingers play around with yours. “would… would your parents be cool with it, though?” you look back towards their room, where the door is shut. they’re surely asleep by now. “what they don’t know won’t hurt them.”
“this is a terrible idea,” peter groans and hides his face in your shoulder. he lets out a quiet yawn, arms curling around your middle. “but, i’m too tired to fight you on it.”
every time peter touches you, you swear you’re going to combust.
“good,” you pat the top of his head lightly. “it’s way past our bedtime, so shall we?” peter stretches out his body, laying on the arm of the couch. “we shall. goodnight, y/n.”
you push at his chest before he drifts off for real. “what are you doing?” he rolls onto his back with a frown. “what do you mean? i’m sleeping, as per your orders.” you’re in love with a dummy. you lightheartedly shake your head at him. “no, i’m not letting you sleep on the couch. come with me.”
you haul yourself off the cushion and hold out a hand for peter. he’s confused, but takes it. once he gets to his feet, you begin leading him to your room.
“where are we going?” he questions. “you’ll see,” you shortly reply.
peter then recognizes the familiar wallpaper adorning the hall he’s walked down so many times. his breath catches in his throat.
are you two sharing your bed for the night?
“right this way,” you push open your bedroom door, stepping inside. peter hesitantly follows in after. he closes the door behind you, nerves clear on his face and in his actions as you make your way to your bed.
with a reassuring grin, you smooth your fingers over your comforter. “come on, get under the blankets.” peter stands stiff in the middle of your room. “what? i… you want me to… are- are you sure?”
“positive. i don’t bite, unless you’re into that,” you joke, partially. peter’s face flushes, hands digging into the pockets of his sweatpants. “well, duh. i- i just, don’t want you to be uncomfortable or whatever.”
your playful demeanor becomes more serious. “i’m never uncomfortable with you, pete. you make me feel the safest.”
“oh… okay. yeah, okay,” peter nods a couple times and pads the short distance to your bed. this is the moment he’s been waiting for.
he slips in next to you, confidence slightly boosted as he drapes your comforter over himself. taking initiative this time, peter faces you and hugs you close until your chests are flush against each other’s. his arms stay around your middle, your own hooking around his neck.
he’s enveloped in you and snuggled up in your bed. it doesn’t get any better than this.
“thanks for letting me stay,” peter rasps, searching for your eyes. they sparkle under the moonlight. “anytime, you know that.” you drag your nails across the back of his neck soothingly. his fingers trace over your hip. goosebumps pop up everywhere on your skin.
“i love you, y/n. really, really love you. i have for so long, but i wasn’t sure how to tell you. but… i needed to,” peter finally admits. there’s a beat of silence while you process his confession. “i’m happy you did ‘cuz i love you, too,” you laugh out, peter exhaling the biggest breath of relief.
a goofy smile overtakes his features, his hands squeezing at your hips. “you do? woah… wow. we’re in love, huh? always wanted to say that.” you giggle and cup both his cheeks, which are a deep shade of pink. “i thought you could tell. by the way, now would be a good time to kiss me again.”
peter leans into your palm and quirks an eyebrow. “i didn’t think you caught the first one.” your lips ghost over his from the small space between you two. “don’t underestimate me.” tilting your chin head up, peter runs his thumb along your jawline. “never.”
his lips collide with yours in a kiss that’s been years in the making and completely worthwhile.
it turns out that movie night at your place wasn’t such a bust, after all.
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marvelouspeterparker · 3 months ago
sensuality and serenity
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pairing: pornstar!tom holland x pornstar!reader (pornstar!sebastian stan makes a comeback as well)
summary: part two to tension and temptation. you and tom have finally given into desire, what does that mean for the both of you? 
warnings: smut + oral (fem receiving) + porn (u already know) + lowkey dom!tom + filthy unprotected sex + choking + spitting...(for seb) + ... + a shit ton of words skdfjgh
word count: 22.1k
notes: surprisingly people did want another part of this, which i am very grateful for, hope this doesn’t disappoint! this starts off the morning after the end of the first part. there are some small realistic parts about the industry i added in, some from observation, others from minimal research, they're not important but just a fun fact lol. thank you so much for the support <3 and i’m sorry this took so long! also not this being longer than the first––
read tension and temptation here
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You felt a pair of lips pressing along your back, leaving stamps of affection all over your bare skin, and the weight of an arm wrapped around your waist. Smiling to yourself, you stirred awake, keeping your eyes closed. Tom’s breath grazed your back as he trailed his kisses higher to your shoulder, the pecks becoming longer and sweeter. His hand found your waist under the sheets, sliding up to your stomach, his fingers splayed across your skin, almost anchoring you to him as the feeling of his soft lips against you had you floating.
You could still feel the slight buzz in your body from the very long night you had and blinked your eyes open, squinting at the sunlight pouring into the room. Tom pressed a kiss to your cheek, his lips curving into a smile against you. You finally turned to face him and the both of you smiled at each other, his hand falling to hold your side as you moved.
“Morning darling.” His voice was raspy and still thick with sleep, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t send a thrill through your body.
You brought a hand up to his cheek, your thumb rubbing the skin gently, almost lulling him back to sleep. “Hi Tom.”
He licked his lips as he looked down at you, only reminding you even more of the night you had, the touches, the positions, the heat that surrounded the two of you––
“How did you sleep?”
You gave him a tired and dopey smile as you remembered how he held you after the very intense hours you spent in this very bed. “Very well. You?”
“Mm, slept like a baby thanks to you.” He leaned in and paused just as his lips were inches from yours. “Really fucked me out well, angel. That tight––”
“Tom!” You laughed incredulously, turning your head away from him. It was too early for this.
“What?” He chuckled, bringing a hand to your cheek to turn you back to him. “It’s true. You felt fucking amazing.” He moved closer to you, his lips now grazing yours. “You know you did. Had me throbbing inside of you the whole time.” He finally kissed you, your lips connecting like missing puzzle pieces, your hands holding each other, yours on his jaw, his on your waist. You both sighed into the kiss, breathing deeply as you took your time with each other, patiently, gently.
After a long (but not long enough) moment, Tom pulled away, bringing his hand back up to hold your cheek. “But it also felt nice just to hold you. And sleep next to you.” His eyes were as soft as his smile as he looked at you and you felt your heart burst. “Want me to make you breakfast? I’ve been told I could be a professional chef, you know.”
You raised a brow, trying not to get caught in your growing feelings. “Did the person who told you that happen to be a reflection in a mirror?”
His jaw dropped in faux shock, his hand falling from your face, landing next to you on the bed, as he pretended to be offended. “I could always take the offer back, love.”
“No need for that.” You hummed, giving him a cheeky smile as you pulled him closer. “What are my options, chef?”
He squeezed your waist affectionately. “I really do spoil you don’t I?” When you rolled your eyes, he smirked and went on. “Well we have cereal?––” He looked at you in question, since you were in your house after all.
You snorted and he looked at you pointedly, making you muffle your laugh and nod. He smiled, trying and failing to look annoyed. “We also have toast,” He paused to think once you confirmed that you did in fact have toast, his brows furrowed as he looked up trying to think of what food you could have had stocked up in your home. “Eggs and...fruits?”
You nodded, an amused smile on your lips. “Yes and yes.” You thought for a moment, pursing your lips. “Can I have eggs please?”
His lips curved up fondly. “Of course.” He slid his hand up and down your side, caressing your skin. “How do you want them?”
“Scrambled, please.”
“So polite for me.” He smirked and kissed you once again, quickly. “Alright. Coming right up.” He got up and put on his boxers, but when you tried to follow him, he looked at you incredulously. “Woah, what are you doing?”
Pausing, with one leg already out of the sheets, you sat up and looked at him confused. “Getting...up?”
He pouted. “But I wanted to make you breakfast in bed.”
Though he looked adorable, his hair just as messy as his eyebrow, even while standing there practically naked, you pushed that aside. “Tom, you don’t even know where anything is.” It’s not like you had time to give him a tour last night.
He waved you off, “I’ll figure it out.” When you gave him an unconvinced look, he climbed back onto the bed on his knees and placed both hands on your cheeks, making you look up at him. “I just wanna treat you, love. Will you let me do that? Please?”
You bit your lip. “Okay,” and he smiled immediately. “But I’m going to freshen up in the bathroom.” You poked his stomach. “And you should too.”
He gasped, squeezing your cheeks together. “Are you trying to tell me I stink?”
You laughed, making him smile and brought your hands up to hold his wrists, pulling his hands down to hold them. “Morning breath is a thing.” You kissed his cheek and got off the bed on his side. “Come on, I think I have a spare toothbrush and I’ll get you a towel so you can wash your face.”
You walked over to the closet and pulled out a spare towel, handing it to Tom as you led him to the bathroom. He trailed behind you like a puppy, his eyes scanning over your bare skin, the curves and dips of your body admiringly. He put his towel on the rack next to yours and thanked you when you handed him your extra toothbrush. There was a comfortable silence between the two of you as you brushed your teeth next to each other, watching each other in the mirror when the other wasn’t looking, with small smiles on your faces––it felt familiar.
You washed your face first, Tom insisting on letting you, but you had a feeling it was simply because he wanted to put his hands on you. Your suspicions proved to be correct when as soon as you leaned over the sink, his hands jumped to your waist, rubbing your skin softly and sensually, making your movements falter for a second. You could sense him smiling behind you, but refused to look up, trying to swallow down how flustered you felt. He handed you your towel when you were done, his eyes never leaving yours, only trailing down your body once you dried your face. You gave him a quick kiss, laughing when he tried to hold you in place and moved out of his way, stepping out of the bathroom to let him wash his face.
Your eyes couldn’t help but focus on him for a moment though, and how he seemed to fit perfectly––not just in your bathroom, but in your home, in your life. Snapping out of it when you heard the water switch off and watched him reach blindly for his towel, you turned around and started making your way over to the bed.
A few feet from it, you noticed Tom’s shirt that he’d thrown off last night and bent down to pick it up and put it on when you heard him curse behind you, before you felt his hands slide up your ass to hold your waist. “At least give me a warning next time, love. Shit––”
You stood up straight and gasped lightly when he pressed himself into you, letting you feel his growing member through the fabric of his boxers. He leaned his head over your shoulder and wrapped his arms around you completely, leaving kisses on your skin. He tucked his head into the crook of your neck, his kisses becoming more wet as he swiped his tongue after every bite and suck that had you gasping and tilting your head back for more.
His arms squeezed you tighter and you gripped his shirt in your hands, the soft material being the only thing keeping you tethered and aware of your surroundings as Tom worked his magic on you. Every time he put his lips or his hands on you, you barely remembered to breathe. But you weren’t complaining.
He started to rut his hips into you and groaned when you let out a small sigh. “Could cum just like this, you know?” His voice was low. “You drive me insane,” he sucked a mark onto your neck, “have me in the palm of your bloody hand.”
He let his hands slide up your warm body to play with your breasts, his palms holding and squeezing your flesh, his fingers teasing and tugging at your nipples, making you whimper and breathe out harshly. “Fuck, Tom––”
He hummed, “Think I wanna have another taste before we fuck again.” You whined unwillingly at the nonchalance of his words and he chuckled, his lips still latched onto you. “But,” He started, pausing to leave a few kisses before pulling away, his hands still on you. You were still reeling from his touch, trying to calm down. “I promised you breakfast.” He kissed your cheek and gently pushed you towards the bed. “So get in here. And I will be back soon.”
You sat down and put the shirt on, laughing when he pouted that you were covering yourself up. But it quickly died down when he spoke up again.
He looked you up and down, swiping his tongue over his bottom lip teasingly. “I’ll have my dessert after breakfast, yeah?”
You licked your lips absentmindedly as well and nodded, making him smirk before he walked off to your kitchen.
You lied there for a few seconds, a part of you still in disbelief of the night before, and of the fact that Tom was in your house and
making you breakfast. Well, he was trying to anyway––it lasted about three minutes before he called you from the kitchen, asking where your pots and pans were.
You walked into the room and smiled knowingly at him, tilting your head. “Did you even look?” He pulled an offended face and crossed his arms teasingly, immediately bringing your attention to the curve of his muscles and toned chest.
“Of course I looked, I just didn’t expect for you to have
the basic cooking utensils––”
You rolled your eyes and shoved past him, an amused smile on your face. You bent down to his right and opened the cupboard right next to him, raising a brow when you turned your head to find him shamelessly checking you out. You cleared your throat, making him lock eyes with you. He licked his lips and practically knocked the breath out of you, and you tried your best to ignore the tingling sensation spreading through your body as you took the pan he was looking for and stood up.
“Clearly you didn’t look hard enough.” You handed him the pan and he graciously took it from you, purposely letting his fingers graze yours.
“Oh trust me,” He let his eyes trail down your body, “I was looking pretty hard.”
You swallowed and tried not to press your thighs together before stepping closer to him, making him look back into your eyes. “Tom?” You whispered. You could hear his breath hitch and the sound made your lips twitch.
His voice was soft. “Yes, love?” He placed his free hand on your waist and pulled you closer. You tilted your head and waited until your lips were grazing, your body pressed up against his, to stop.
You looked at him and smiled at the way his eyes started to flutter shut. “Breakfast.” You pulled away with a breathless laugh and stepped out of his embrace as he nodded slowly and looked to the ceiling, putting his tongue in his cheek to contain his smile. You made your way around him on the other side to the kitchen island and sat down, leaning your head on your palm. “Don’t make me wait too long.”
Breakfast didn’t take too long and was unsurprisingly very good, given the fact that Tom somehow managed to be good at everything. You ate together at the kitchen island, butterflies fluttering your stomach as his free hand rested on your thigh, his thumb rubbing teasing circles on your skin, his eyes almost never leaving your face as he watched you with a smile during your conversation.
After you ate, there was an undeniable tension in the air, the both of you visibly aching to jump each other while Tom helped you load the dishwasher, not wanting to leave the mess for you to clean up alone. He had wanted to do it alone, but you very stubbornly would not let him do so, to his displeasure.
“Excuse me, love.” His hands lingered on your waist as he slid behind you and reached over to grab the spatula off the counter in front of you. You smiled to yourself and backed up into him slightly, deciding to act coy as well, knowing the both of you knew very well what the other was up to.
He grabbed the spatula with one hand while the other squeezed your waist almost to control himself––he wanted nothing more than to bend you over the sink and take you there, but he told himself he had to have more class than that.
He stood up straight behind you and handed you the spatula since you were in front of the dishwasher, and definitely not because you had to bend down to put it in it’s spot. You licked your lips and took the utensil, before slowly and teasingly bending down to put it away, swallowing a gasp when you felt Tom’s hands slide along your ass and under his shirt, then his bulge as he pressed into you.
Slowly, you stood back up and closed the dishwasher, tilting your head to the side as Tom moved closer behind you, his breath hitting your skin, lips teasing you as you clicked the settings on the dishwasher, the beeps from the appliance being the only sound floating in the tense air.
Tom let his lips graze your neck as his hands slid up to grab your breasts, before finally letting his lips press a kiss to your skin. He trailed his kisses along your neck, letting his tongue swipe across it teasingly before biting down gently and leaving a few marks that had you taking sharp intakes of breath.
You let your eyes flutter shut and bit your lip as he started grinding into you ever so slightly, caught up in the feeling of you pressed against him. You brought your hand up and reached behind you, tugging at his hair the way he liked and he groaned against you, making you moan quietly.
He let out a shaky breath and pulled his mouth away from you for a moment, panting lightly as his hands moved down to hold your waist. “Been aching to get another taste of you, darling. Think I’ve waited long enough, yeah? You gonna let me back between these pretty thighs?”
You nodded immediately and he let out a breath of laughter, before taking your hand and leading you back to your room. He looked at you earnestly but lustfully before slipping his shirt over your head and letting it fall to the floor, his eyes raking over your body as if he were looking at it for the first time. Then he gently pushed you back onto the bed and got comfortable, his breath hitting the insides of your thighs as he looked at his prize, practically salivating despite the meal he had just eaten.
The look in his eyes was enough to make you clench around nothing and that only made his eyes zero in on you even more. His hands inched up your thighs teasingly slow, his fingertips only grazing your skin as you started breathing heavier, your eyes stuck on him and his movements. You bit your lip to stop the whine from escaping and without even looking up at you, Tom could tell you were needy.
His lips curved into a small smirk. “You need me, darling?” He licked his lips. “It looks like this pussy needs attention, hm?” He let one of his hands ghost over your core, your lips bucking slightly before his other hand gently pressed you back down by your waist, his smirk deepening at the sight. “Shh, you’re okay, love. I’ll take good care of you.”
You shut your eyes for a second before looking back down at him, trying to stay still, but the way his fingers were sliding through your folds ever so gently made you want to cry out. “Tom please–”
He finally looked up at you and the intense and hungry look in his eyes was enough to make you squirm under his hold. “I need you.” One of your hands grabbed his on your waist while the other gripped the sheets. “Please do something.”
He cursed silently and kissed your thigh softly before burying his face between your legs, groaning at the way your hand came down to tug at his curls.
He grinned into your heat, his tongue lapping up and down your folds as you grinded into his mouth, satisfied and grateful that he was relieving you of your pent up frustration. His tongue made its way all around your cunt, making a mess that he was silently aching to clean up. He slid a finger into your opening and his eyes shot up to watch your reaction, grinning against you when your body shook slightly, your mouth falling open.
“So tight, lovie.” He whispered against you and your head fell back, eyes shutting at the warm pleasure coursing through your body. “Always so nice and tight for me.” He let his tongue lick against your clit lazily, eyes taking in your every feature as he curled his finger inside you and slowly worked you up. “Think you’re ready for another one, hm? We’ll make it fit. You want that?” You nodded immediately and he smirked, kissing your clit. “Need words baby, you know that.”
“Please.” Your voice was small, barely a whisper. “Want another one.”
He cooed, moving his finger faster inside of you. “Another what baby? Tell me.”
You looked down at him, knowing exactly how to get what you wanted––your lust-clouded mind still clever. “Need another finger inside me Tommy, please?”
His lips parted, the color of his eyes turning a shade darker. Without another word, he slid a second finger in, letting out a breath in sync with you when you moaned at the feeling, groaning softly when your fingers pulled harder at his hair. He was mesmerized by the way you were practically sucking him in, tightening around him and he couldn’t help but think about how you would feel around his cock afterwards. He let his hips grind into the bed and moaned, leaning forward to wrap his lips around your clit to lick and suck the sensitive bud, letting the vibrations bring you closer to the edge.
You let out a gasp at the stimulation and he took that as an incentive to go faster, speeding up his fingers and sucking harder at your clit. He curled his fingers and chuckled against you when your hips jerked upwards, both your hands pulling him closer by his hair. Your legs started trembling and he kept at it, closing his eyes and immersing himself in your pleasure. “Come on, love. Come on my fingers, you know you want to. Give it to me, just like that.” He could feel himself getting closer just at the sight of you and had to force himself to stop pressing down against the bed, wanting to save himself for you.
Your eyes rolled back and your body tensed under him, your fingers loosening their hold on his hair as you came undone. He held you close with one arm wrapped around your thigh, his head following the movement of your hips to keep making you feel good through your high. You sighed and opened your eyes slowly to the sound of him cooing softly to you, the feeling of his fingers pumping in and out of you slowly and he kissed your clit. “Such a good girl.” He licked around your cunt, lapping up your wetness gently and languidly before he sat up and kissed you. He pressed his lips against yours teasingly softly, sliding his tongue against yours, letting you taste yourself.
He gave you a few more pecks and brought his clean hand up to your cheek and let his eyes wander over your face fondly, taking his sweet time to admire you. His voice was soft when he spoke up. “You know you look absolutely stunning when you come?” He trailed his pointer and middle fingers of his other hand down to your lips, letting them linger over them before you couldn’t help yourself and opened your mouth for him to slide them in. His eyes were entranced as you sucked and wet his fingers, letting him pump them in and out of your mouth, your eyes locked with his.
His lips parted on their own accord, his body reacting on it’s own to the way you were enticing him. You reached your hand over and ran it along his length, making his breath falter. “Shit baby––” He looked down to where you were rubbing him through his boxers and bucked into your touch, slipping his fingers out of your mouth to grab your jaw. He looked back up at you. “If you don’t stop I’m going to come in my boxers,” he leaned in to graze his lips against yours. “And I’d much rather do that inside you.”
You swallowed a whimper and nodded, pulling your hand away. He bit your bottom lip gently, slowly and pulled away, his eyes trained on yours as he slid his boxers off. Your eyes shot down to his length, fascinated by the way his hand wrapped around it, stroked up and down slowly and he smirked. He came back between your legs and brought a hand under your chin to tilt your head up. “S’not very polite to stare, darling.”
You bit your lip and looked up at him sheepishly, clearly unapologetic. “M’sorry.”
He narrowed his eyes, an amused smile on his face. “You little minx.” Before you could respond, he swiped his tip through your folds, rubbing it along your clit, gliding easily through your wetness, making the both of you take a sharp inhale. “This pussy’s throbbing for me isn’t it?” He pushed his hips down and slid the length of his member against your cunt, his voice dropping down to a teasing, seductive tone. “You want me to fuck you baby, hm?” He smirked and leaned further down so he was hovering above you, “Want me to slide my cock inside this tight pussy?”
You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him close to kiss him. “Please.” You whispered against his lips before kissing him again. “Fuck me.”
He kissed you deeply and pressed his cock against your entrance. “Well how can I say no to you, hm? Such a pretty little thing for me.” You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him in and the both of you moaned into the kiss, holding onto each other tightly. He bottomed out slowly, wanting to feel all of you, his hand gripping your thigh as he started thrusting into you gently.
You could feel his lips curve into a sly smile through the kiss––he knew it wasn’t enough for you, he was just being a tease. So you started bucking your hips into him, fucking yourself onto his cock and he let out a low groan before pulling away to look at where the two of you were connected. He bit his lip and watched you for a while, cursing at the feeling of your tightness stretching around him and sucking him in.
“You that desperate for me, lovie?” He looked back up at you and twitched inside of you at the sight of the lust that overtook your gaze. You were staring at him unabashedly, making it clear that you wanted all of him and who was he to deny you of that.
He sat back on his knees and placed his hands on your hips to steady but before you could complain about the lack of stimulation, he was pounding into you at a solid pace, knocking the breath out of you. You whined and let your eyes flutter shut, your hands coming up to hold the pillow underneath your head as you jolted back and forth with every thrust of his hips. You heard a faint “so fucking beautiful” before the sound around you practically drowned out, the feeling of your pleasure overcoming all other senses.
He was fucking you hard and deep, the sound of his skin slapping against yours just as constant as the pleasure he was giving you. He was cursing and moaning above you as he watched you, practically fucking you onto his cock himself. He reached a hand down and rubbed at your clit, making you let out a mix between a gasp and a whine, your body trying to fold on itself from the sensitivity.
“Want you to come for me again baby. Can you do that for me? Wanna feel that pussy drip on my cock before I fill you up.”
You let out a breathless moan as you felt your body climb higher and higher to the edge, the pit in your stomach growing with every thrust and flick of his fingers as he quickened his pace. “Come on darling, that’s it. Be good for me, shit––”
His fingers were digging into your waist, holding you in place as he sent you barreling over the edge, your whole body shivering and trembling as your mouth fell open, your walls tightening around him as he gasped and thrusted even harder, chasing his own high. The only sounds were that of his loud breaths and moans and his cock plowing into you, covered in your slick.
Within a few more strokes, he was moaning loudly and painting your insides with cum, both of his hands back on your waist as his pace faltered and slowed down. You could feel every inch of his cock as he dragged it teasingly slow in and out of your cunt. He looked down to see the white ring of both your releases around the base of his cock, dripping down his balls and groaned quietly before bottoming all the way out again. “Fuck––”
He leaned forward and you wrapped your legs around him to hold him close, linking your hands around his neck to pull him in for a kiss. You hummed and smiled when he thrusted again cheekily and he smirked before pulling back to look at you. “You okay?”
You smiled and rolled your eyes at his unnecessary but sweet question. “More than okay.” You nodded and started playing with his hair, biting back a smirk when his eyes threatened to flutter shut at the feeling. He really was like a puppy sometimes. “Are
you okay?”
He licked his lips and let his eyes trail down your face to your chest and back up to your eyes. “Amazing.” He leaned down for another kiss, which quickly turned into several more and soon enough you were getting lost in each other once again.
On Monday, you found yourself even more eager than usual to get to work, for obvious reasons. Though you’d already slept with Tom, this was something you’d literally dreamt about, on multiple nights, for a while now, so you were understandably a bit nervous. It weirdly felt like you were opening up a part of yourself to the public, though you wouldn’t be doing anything they hadn’t seen before––you were sharing the spotlight with someone who’d held you to sleep a couple nights before, this was intimate.
Today Julie had kindly offered to get you a coffee today so you stopped by her desk in the lobby to take it and say good morning. You greeted her gratefully as she slid the drink to you, taking a sip from her own cup with a knowing smile. “So I heard you’re filming with the golden boy today. You excited?”
You tried to contain your own growing smile by sipping your coffee as well, trying to act coy. “Maybe…”
She laughed, “That’s definitely a yes. I mean I would be too, to be honest.” Suddenly she perked up, “Speak of the devil.”
Your eyes widened slightly and you stood up straight, not wanting to turn around and look too suspicious. You felt a presence come up next to you and a hand on your lower back before you heard his alluring and oh so familiar voice.
“Julie,” He turned to you, a teasing smile on his face as he looked you up and down. “Y/N.”
You held your coffee with both hands and subtly scanned him as well. He was wearing a black t-shirt, a jean jacket and sweats and of course, he looked as good as ever. “Good morning, Tom.”
His lips curved into a smirk, “A good morning indeed. Going to be a rather good day too, for sure.”
You rolled your eyes playfully and bid Julie goodbye, not needing her to bear witness to Tom’s blatant flirting. “We should get going. I’ll see you later, yeah?”
She smiled and nodded, her voice extra cheerful as she watched the two of you. “Bye.”
Tom said goodbye as well before following you, leaning close as he walked with you towards the elevator. “Eager to get to work, are we?”
You bit the inside of your cheek, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing that you were in fact eager, and very, at that.
“Well I’ll let you in on a little secret, love.” He kept his eyes on you as he pressed the elevator button and leaned in to whisper in your ear. “I’m the most excited I’ve ever been to go to work. In fact, I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind, you know that? You drive me absolutely crazy in the best way.”
Your breath hitched in your throat, but before you could say anything, the elevator doors opened and Tom stepped aside, extending his arm to let you go through. You cleared your throat, trying to calm yourself and stepped in.
Within no time you were sitting in front of the mirror, Olive fixing up your makeup. “So I hear you’re filming a little something special today.” She smiled knowingly, glancing at your eyes for a brief moment before focusing back to the task at hand, patting the beauty blender onto your cheeks and under eyes as you smiled sheepishly.
She hummed, “I also hear he asked to work with you personally as well. Two in a row…Someone’s a popular girl, hm?”
You tilted your head back to laugh and she did as well, the hand holding the beauty blender pausing in the air until you sat straight again. “I honestly don’t know why this is happening to me,” you admitted but Olive was quick to wave you off, her brows furrowing in a half-hearted scolding.
“Oh, nonsense.” She reached over to get the lip gloss and applied it to your lips. The scene you were filming didn’t require that much makeup, rather a natural look––or as natural as you can be in this industry, in a professional video. “You’re gorgeous and you’re good at your job––I’m surprised you haven’t received more offers.”
You rubbed your lips together to spread the gloss, biting back a smile to do it properly. “Thanks Olive.”
She shrugged a shoulder as if to say any time before she turned back to you, a more serious look on her face. “Now back to Tom––You nervous?”
“Honestly? Yeah…It feels more intimate? Than others I’ve done before. But I trust him and I know we’re good together so…” You smiled, more confident. “I’m ready.”
A few moments later, you were dressed and ready to go in your yoga pants and push-up sports bra––the scene you were shooting taking place in a “personal gym” between a yoga instructor and his student.
You made it to the set before Tom, the assistant letting you know that he was on his way, just finishing a few touch ups. You went over the scene with the director for some last minute notes, revising the positions, the minimal lines you had and so on. As the director talked you could sense immediately when Tom walked into the room. You could feel his eyes on you, raking over your body as if you two were the only ones there and you shifted from heel to heel, trying and falling to not let it affect you.
When Tom noticed, because of course he did, he smiled to himself and crossed his arms as he walked over to the two of you, wanting to know if there were any last minute changes and so on. He stood closer to you than necessary, just to be a tease––his side pressing into yours as he spoke with the director. You let your eyes trail over to him subtly, watching the way the muscles of his arms curved, the way the veins added to definition to his hands––the tank top letting it all be on display. Next your gaze shifted down to his legs, the short tight shorts leaving his defined thighs for all to see and you had to snap out of it before you started fantasizing and missed out on the director’s notes.
A few minutes later, you were done discussing everything and Tom turned to you as the director went elsewhere. He bit his lip, taking his turn to shamelessly check you out. “I have never been more grateful for this job.”
You nudged him playfully and walked towards the mat where the scene would be taking place. “Shut up.”
He chuckled and was quick to follow you. “Don’t worry,” he squeezed your ass cheekily, smirking when you gasped quietly. “I’ll be putting my mouth to good use in no time.”
With your mind already malfunctioning from that sly comment, you decided not to respond, not wanting to make a fool of yourself and by the smug look on Tom’s face it seemed as though he could tell.
The photographer made his way over to the main part of the set with the director and gestured to the two of you to come over. “So we’re going to take a few pictures, not too many, just three or four poses from multiple angles and then we’ll start the scene, alright?”
You and Tom nodded before making your way over to the mat on the floor. He stepped behind you and placed a hand on your waist to get your attention. You looked over your shoulder and he stepped closer to you, letting you feel his hard-on through your leggings and your breath hitched.
“You ready?” His voice was soft, only quiet enough for you to hear.
You nodded and he smirked. “Then let’s put on a show, hm?”
You bent down at the waist and placed your hands in front of you to hold you up, silently thankful for how this career has helped you become more flexible in more ways than one. You heard Tom take a sharp inhale at the sight of you and bit your lip to contain your smile. He stepped closer to you and placed his hands on your waist, gently pulling you back into his hips, cursing quietly as the photographer took the photos.
You could feel the pressure from each of his fingers as they dug into your waist, the outline of his cock pressed between your legs and you could already sense yourself falling down a tunnel of desire. Your body was eager for what was to come, wetness already spreading between your lips. Thinking back to when you watched him work with Angela––Sophie was right when she told you the actresses never needed extra help when working with Tom, he’d have you more than prepared by the time you had to film, and you weren’t ashamed to admit it.
When you were done with that pose, he helped you up and turned you around before sliding your leggings down, getting down on his knees and looking up at you, a sinful look in his eyes as you stepped out of the material. Next he pulled his shorts down and stepped out of them before stepping back in front of you.
You raised your leg and he swiped his tip between your folds, practically hissing when he felt how wet you were. You’d be taking some action shots while you were filming the scene, but they still wanted some stills of fake action shots––it didn’t even matter if the positions weren’t in the scene, people didn’t really care and most times they didn’t notice. Tom slipped the tip in your hole and cursed as your walls sucked him in, shamelessly aching for more. You’d prepped yourself earlier in your dressing room, but your fingers were nothing in comparison to him. He locked eyes with you and licked his lips. “You’re gonna be the death of me, darling.”
He hooked his forearm under your knee, pulling you close with one hand on your ass, the other arm coming around to hold your waist as he slipped in a little deeper. He didn’t need to but he couldn’t help himself. You bit your lip to swallow your surprised moan and he gave you a cheeky look, his lips quirking up as you tried but failed to glare at him, the pleasure overtaking your features. Your faces wouldn’t be in the shot, but you found yourselves looking at each other as though they would be, indisputable need, in both of your eyes.
You almost didn’t hear when the photographer said you were ready to move on, the two of you already lost in your own reverie, or for better words, lost in each other. For the next pose, you got on the floor and lied on your back. Tom got on his knees in front of you before opening your legs and pushing your thighs back, opening you up completely for him and the cameras to see. You couldn’t help but dwell on the fact that you felt more focused on being spread out for Tom, rather than the cameras and the crew all around you.
You took a few pictures in that position, then the director asked you to hold your legs back instead of Tom. You did so, but couldn’t help but clench at the feeling of his hands sliding down your legs, his fingers lingering near your bare cunt to get a rise out of you. You looked up and almost whined at the way he was looking down at you, his gaze unwavering from your face making you feel as exposed as if he were looking further down at your wet opening.
The director nor the photographer told him to, but he couldn’t help it. Tom brought his hand back up to swipe two fingers through your slick before sliding them into you, keeping his eyes locked with yours. You faintly heard the director praising his improv but you were too entranced to really pay attention or make out the words.
Tom pumped his fingers in and out of you slowly, crooking them to press against your spot, making you roll your hips involuntarily and gasp quietly. They took the pictures far too quickly for your liking but Tom being the tease he is, made sure to work you up as soon as possible before pulling his fingers out and slipping them in his mouth when no one was looking––or maybe people were looking, however you were too focused on him to notice or care. He kept his eyes on you while sucking his fingers, slowly and teasingly, only looking away when the assistant came over to give him a wipe to clean up.
The director announced that they’d take a five to ten minute break before filming and you and Tom made your way to the side after getting dressed again.
Tom leaned over to whisper in your ear after a few seconds of silence. “I almost wanna go to the dressing room and just take you there.”
You bit your lip and kept your head straight. “Keep it in your pants, Tom. Who’s eager now?” You asked, referring back to his teasing comment in the lobby, as if you weren’t just as needy, if not more than him.
He simply chuckled, leaning in to whisper in your ear. “You say that like I should be ashamed, love.” He tilted his head and looked at you––you could almost feel him scan your face teasingly. “I never said being eager was a bad thing, now did I?” You glanced over at him and he winked.
You put your tongue in your cheek and faced forward once more, pressing your thighs together. If you didn’t film this scene soon, you were going to explode.
“Alright Y/N, Tom––” the director got your attention and told you you’d be starting now. The pit of nervous energy in your stomach had now turned to desire and you were more than ready to begin.
Mentally preparing yourself, you took a quick deep breath and “entered” the gym as written in the script. Tom was already inside and walked over to meet you. “Ah there you are. How are you, good?”
You nodded, giving him a cheerful smile and you could see a hint of amusement in his eyes as you did so. “Yeah! I’m ready to do some yoga.”
“Please––” He smiled back and gestured to the mat. “We’re going to do some basic stretches today, nothing too extreme but I will try my hardest to push you to your limit.”
You centered yourself on the mat and started stretching your arms out over your head. “Sounds intense.”
He came up behind you, letting his voice become a tad more suggestive. “Don’t worry. It’s nothing you can’t handle.” You hooked one arm over the other, extending it to the side and he placed one hand on your waist, the other on your forearm. “Here we go, just a little more.” He pulled your arm to the side, letting his fingers press into your waist as he breathed into your ear. “Good. Just like that.”
You took a deep breath, making sure to show the camera that you were flustered and nodded slightly.
“Now let’s do the other side.” You unhooked your arm and stretched the other side, Tom’s hands following your every move, guiding you sensually. “Next,” he slid his hands down your side, over your ass and along the backs and sides of your thighs. “Let’s stretch these muscles.” He placed a hand on your back and pushed you forward gently. “Reach for your toes, that’s it.”
You reached forward and gasped, as written, when he pushed your legs farther apart with his free hand. “Just a little wider, good girl.” He pressed himself into you and the camera panned down to show your shocked face, your expression exaggeratedly morphing from surprised to amused and cheeky.
“There we go.” He pulled you back into him by your hips and let out a breath as you moaned and bit your lip.
He took a step back and admired you, maybe lingering a little longer than necessary, before telling you to get on your knees. You did as he asked and sat back on your haunches, spreading your legs wider when he asked. He bent down so that his head was aligned with yours, and grasped your throat with one hand––the script didn’t specify on how he should straighten you up, but clearly he took advantage of his creative liberties there. He tightened his hold slightly and smirked, “Make sure your posture is straight, there you go.” He trailed his other hand down your torso, pulling you back to straighten you before reaching down between your thighs to cup your heat. “And spread those legs. You’re a natural at this, look at that.”
He rubbed you through your panties and you were worked up enough that you didn’t even need to fake the moans you let out. His voice was as light as a feather as he guided you, his other hand around your throat, tilting your head up to look at him. “Just roll your hips into my hand, mhm. Need to work those muscles just right.” He dipped his head down and moved his hand over to lick and bite at your neck, kissing and sucking at your sweet spot to hear the pretty sounds you make––he personally loved hearing them, but the viewers did too, often commenting on them under your videos.
After a couple of minutes, as instructed, Tom told you to flip over on your back. The video would have a cutscene here to the next part, so you simply took your leggings off and moved into the next position. Tom held your thighs up near your torso, “Feel the burn, love?” Love was most definitely not in the script, but he knew what effect it had on you, that tease.
You nodded and he leaned forward, letting out a quiet “good” before licking from your hole to your clit, keeping his eyes on you to watch your reaction––again, not in the script, but he couldn’t help himself. He wanted you to feel good.
This director was kind, but he worked on many scenes each day and because of the time crunch, he often sped things up, meaning he wasn’t afraid to tell actresses to fake their climaxes to move things along. Tom tried to make his co-stars feel good and orgasm several times during the scenes, to make the experience more enjoyable, never wanting them to have to fake it when he didn’t. He always applied that “rule” but he felt an overwhelming urge to stick by it today since he was working with you. He wanted to make this enjoyable but above all memorable––it felt special.
He swiped his tongue all over your sex, licking your clit sloppily yet precisely, not afraid to slurp up your juices and suck on your bud loudly. He pushed his tongue past your entrance and smiled when you gasped and brought a hand between your legs to tug his hair and pull him closer––this all felt very familiar for the both of you and you could tell the both of you were thinking the same thing.
He pulled away for a bried second and slid a finger into your sex slowly, his lips forming a shocked and aroused o shape. “Definitely need to stretch this out.” He easily added another finger and was quick to put his mouth back on you, humming against your clit when your walls clenched around him. He pressed his digits against your spot once again and groaned when you tugged harder on his hair.
You could hear the sounds of his fingers pumping in and out of your slick, could feel the drag of his fingers against your tight walls, the pressure of his fingertips against your spot--the combination of all of these things making your thoughts cloudy, your body hot and ready for release. Your hips were bucking into his mouth and fingers, back already arching and Tom could feel his bulge grow even more, the tight shorts only making it worse. The sight of you was enough to make him ache for more––he wanted to feel you, all of you.
He could feel your cunt tightening around his fingers, the pull familiar. He could tell you were close and made it his mission to make you tip over the edge before you had to move to the next position. He started pumping his fingers faster and sucked on your clit hard, sacrificing his perfect view of you and closing his eyes to fully focus on your pleasure. He swiped his tongue over your bundle of nerves, shaking his head from side to side and hummed and groaned against you as your breathing quickened, your moans getting sharper and breathier.
With a few more pumps, your walls were spasming around his fingers, your mouth dropped open as you let out an almost muted moan, your eyes rolled back. Though he was meant to pull away and flip you over, Tom couldn’t help himself, he knew you wanted more as well––he could read you like a book. He let go of your leg and let your thighs instinctively close around his head as he kept sucking at your clit and fucking you with his fingers. The sounds were filthy, but they were only immersing the two of you further into the scene.
It wasn’t in the script, but the passion and the chemistry between the two of you was undeniable and rarely seen on camera, the director couldn’t stop you, he didn’t want to. Tom worked you up to another orgasm, his fingers thrusting wildly yet precisely in your cunt as he stuck his tongue out and let you buck onto it. You came with a loud cry, your legs trembling around his head.
He pumped his fingers slowly a few more times and only pulled away when your legs fell back down. He opened his eyes and took you in, letting his gaze fall over your every feature as he sucked his fingers clean and you whined at the sight knowing that he wasn’t even making a show of it for the cameras, but for you––you could tell by the way he locked eyes with you before kissing your clit and trailing his lips up your body.
He hovered above you and kissed you fiercely, letting you taste yourself, the both of your hands desperately pushing his shorts off while your lips were connected. As soon as he kicked them off, he grabbed his cock and cursed, pumping his hand a couple times before swiping it through your folds and slipping it past your hole. He bottomed out in one go and the both of you moaned against each other, Tom taking the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth slowly and sensually, part of him doing so to make sure the camera could see, the other part just wanting to rile you up the best he could.
You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him impossibly closer, the both of you clinging onto each other as he started thrusting inside of you, the mix between your wetness, his spit and precum making it very loud and very arousing. He easily found a steady pace, his hips and thighs hitting the back of yours and your ass hard enough to make the fat jiggle.
You brought a hand up to pull his hair and he groaned, hitting that spot inside of you with a particularly hard thrust that had you letting out a mix between a gasp and a moan in surprise. You were both breathing heavily, physically and mentally wrapped up in one another.
Just when you thought you couldn’t feel any better, you felt a hand wrap around your throat once again, the pressure on the sides of your neck making your breath hitch. Tom sat up and leaned on his other hand, pinning you down in place as he fucked you harder, your back getting sweaty against the mat, but you couldn’t be bothered to care.
His eyes were piercing yours, though your vision was getting hazy from the pleasure, your eyes threatening to flutter shut. He balanced himself and brought his other hand to rub at your clit quickly. You could barely process what was happening before your walls were tightening again, making him curse to himself as you trembled underneath him.
He fucked you through your high, fighting off his own to focus on you and give you everything you wanted. He pulled out slowly, his hands caressing your thighs before he eased you up and turned you over on your hands and knees, smoothing his palms and letting his fingers trail over your ass before he positioned himself behind you.
He slid his hand up your spine and pushed you down before slipping his cock back inside of you and bottoming out in one go, the both of you groaning at how wet you were. You felt even tighter in this position and he was hitting your spot just right.
You leaned your head on your forearms, letting your body push back into Tom’s and he growled, slamming his hips into you harder. His hands gripped your waist and your ass, “Fuck––Yeah fuck me back baby, that’s it. Stretch that pussy out on my cock.”
You moaned loudly and clenched around him from his words, not expecting them at all since the video was meant to be mainly silent for sexual parts. The thought that Tom was losing his cool and letting yours and his pleasure take over his actions, improvising and such because he was lost in the feeling of you, was enough for you to get even wetter. You bit your lip in concentration as you kept fucking yourself on his cock before sliding a hand down between your legs and rubbing at your clit––it was sloppy but it was getting the job done and the camera wasn’t focusing on it, so you didn’t dwell on it too much. Throughout this whole shoot, you couldn’t find it in yourself to really focus or even think about the cameras and the crew––all you could think about was Tom, and it felt as though he were doing everything in his power for that to be the case, not that you could complain.
He groaned, “God––You gonna cum baby?” He couldn’t care less if the dirty talk wasn’t in the script, he was too focused on you and if they really had a problem with it, they could cut it out––but by the way you were reacting to it, he could tell the director and the viewers wouldn’t mind it at all. You looked and sounded sexy and with Tom, you two were an unstoppable pair.
You nodded and whined out a response. “Mhm.”
He cursed and pulled you back against him harder, taking everything in him not to burst inside of you from the moans you were letting out with each thrust and the feeling of your wetness coating his member as it practically glided in and out of you. “Come on, cum all over my cock, love. Make a mess for me.”
You let out a desperate whine, losing yourself in the pleasure as well and going off script. “Please––please make me cum again. Fuck––I’m so close. Want you to cum in me.”
Tom groaned loudly and soon enough, he was pumping his load inside of you, shivering at the relief he felt and the overstimulation as he kept fucking you, your high coming crashing down on the both of you as you spasmed on the mat, your fourth orgasm hitting harder than the others. Your body felt like it was recharged and drained of energy all at once, your limbs sluggish but almost mechanically and rhythmically pushing you back against Tom to ride out your high.
He bottomed out one last time, hissing at the sensitivity as you jolted from the pleasure, before pulling out. He moved to the side but kept a hand on your ass as the camera came in close. His voice was quiet and gentle, clearly only meant for you as he spoke up, encouraging you. “You’ve got it, love, that’s it. Good girl.”
You pushed the cum out of your cunt, sighing as it dripped down to your clit and onto the floor. You shook your ass from side to side for the camera and smiled when you noticed how much it affected Tom. He made eye contact with you and grinned lazily, grabbing one of your ass cheeks and shaking it playfully, before slapping it loudly, making you yelp.
The director yelled cut, sending praises your way and the crew started cleaning everything up, and putting the equipment away, ready to move onto the next scene.
You flipped over onto your back and Tom laid down next to you and kissed your cheek, bringing a hand up to hold the other side of your face. There was a lot of commotion around the two of you, but as you looked into his eyes, all of that faded away. “You okay?”
You nodded with a smile, leaning into his touch as you found comfort in the warmth of his eyes, drowning out all the other people in the room. “Amazing.”
Due to your different schedules, you and Tom couldn’t see each other after the scene but he made sure to FaceTime you to see how you felt and just to catch up once you’d both gotten home that night.
As soon as the call connected, you were met with a smiling Tom, the sight of him never failing to make you happy. “There she is.”
You smiled at the screen, taking in his tired eyes and fluffy hair––there’s no doubt he’d been running his hands through it. “Hi Tommy.”
“Hi lovie.”
You settled in your bed and got comfortable, asking the question you both had on your minds. “So was it everything you’d dreamed of?”
His smile widened. “Darling, dreams can’t even compare to how amazing you are in real life.”
You shook your head with a smile, wanting to calm your beating heart. “You mean the sex.”
“Nah, I mean you.” He winked. “But the sex was incredible as well.”
You both laughed and when it died down, he spoke up again, his eyes earnest. “How was it for you, really?”
“Tom, you made me feel so good that I forgot we were filming at times.” You smirked, “It was as you said, incredible.”
He bit his lip bashfully but clearly pleased. “That’s good.” He tilted his head. “So you would film with me again?”
You responded immediately, “Without a doubt.”
Over the weekend, you decided to do some grocery shopping, your fridge and cupboards all too bare for your liking. You didn’t feel like going in the morning and you got sidetracked during the day so you ended up going in the late evening.
You got all the necessities, healthy foods along with your favorite snacks, a good balance of both. You were walking through the aisles aimlessly, in hopes of finding something––you were sure you were forgetting something but you couldn’t put a finger on it, when you ran into a familiar face.
Your eyes widened and your heartbeat fluttered. “Tom–”
He looked you up and down, clearly enjoying what he was seeing. “Beautiful as ever, even while running errands, I see.”
You rolled your eyes to hide your flustered state. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”
He smiled. “Thanks, love.”
You chatted idly for a few minutes before Tom pulled you to the side by your waist, noticing someone trying to pass through with their cart behind you. Suddenly you were right up against each other, the proximity making your heart beat faster. He apologized for tugging you into him without warning, his voice soft and you shook your head as if to say it's okay, your mouth failing to work in sync with your thoughts, but he caught on.
Tom paused, seemingly contemplating his next words. “Would you...want to get dinner with me? Nothing crazy just, you know––” He scratched the back of his head nervously, “Or you may be busy, if so that’s fine.”
You paused, “I mean...I don’t really feel like going out to eat, but maybe we could make dinner... together?”
His eyes brightened, brows raising as he nodded almost immediately. “Sure––Um you could come over to mine if you’d like?”
You smiled, “I’d like that.”
He laughed sheepishly, “Right. Perfect.”
The two of you settled on pasta and through some negotiations, Tom agreed to let you buy half of the ingredients. Though it would have been faster if the two of you split up and met up afterwards, you decided to walk around the store together––it felt right.
Since you’d walked to the store, Tom drove you home to drop off your things and then to his apartment. He dropped down the top of his convertible, letting the soft breeze run through the car as the sun was setting. The orange tint hit against his skin perfectly and you couldn’t help but admire him and the way his brown curls turned almost golden.
Sensing your eyes on him, he glanced over at you for a moment. “Something wrong?”
You shook your head, “No you’re just…pretty.”
His lips quirked up immediately and he shook his head. He reached a hand over to squeeze your thigh and you slipped your hand into his as he locked eyes with you, the car now at a red light. “And you’re gorgeous.”
You looked away and told him to shut up, overwhelmed by the way he was looking at you and the gentle tone of his voice and he laughed.
When you arrived at the parking lot of his apartment complex, he made you stay put so he could open the door for you, jogging over to your side before you could get out, and extended his arm out, bowing playfully. “M’lady.”
You breathed out a laugh and took his hand to step out of the car. “I’m guessing you won’t let me carry the groceries?”
He made an offended face. “No, are you crazy?”
His lips quickly morphed into a smile but you could tell he was still being serious. You rolled your eyes despite the smile on your face, “Alright, let’s go.”
As soon as he opened the door you heard a patter against the hardwood floor, the sound getting nearer and louder until you saw a cute pitbull terrier running towards you and Tom.
He stepped into his apartment and set the bags down on the floor for a moment to close the door behind you and greet his dog. “Hi Tess! How are you buddy?”
You smiled watching him pet and praise his dog and he looked at you with a bright grin as Tessa ran over to you next, eager to say hello.
You bent down to her level and pet her sides and her head, smiling at her enthusiasm. “Hi Tessa, I’m Y/N—It’s so nice to finally meet you!” She licked your face and you laughed, tilting your head so she didn’t lick your mouth.
You turned to Tom who was already watching you fondly. “She’s even cuter in person. I didn’t even think that was possible.”
His eyes twinkled, the immediate thought in his head clear as day, Could say the same about you. He laughed and petted her belly. “Alright come on Tess,” he pulled her off of you slightly. “Let her breathe.”
You waved him off, still petting her. “Oh I don’t mind.”
“Yeah well,” He ran his hands through his hair sheepishly, “I want you all to myself.”
You laughed as the dog rested her head in your lap. “Well then I guess you’ve got some competition, Tommy.”
At that moment Tom found himself thinking how he wouldn’t mind if that were his only competition.
Eventually, Tessa calmed down, though you were sad to say goodbye, even if you were just standing up and going to the kitchen while she went to the living room––you already had a soft spot for her and Tom couldn’t stop his heart from swelling at the sight.
You helped Tom put his groceries away and it all felt very mundane and intimate, like a routine you wouldn’t mind getting accustomed to––shuffling around the kitchen in sync with occasional lingering sweet touches.
Soon, the two of you were chopping up ingredients and mixing them in with the pasta. You had been working on the sauce, almost ready to pour it in with the rest of the food when you noticed how Tom was mixing the food in the pan––it looked wrong to put it simply. He wasn’t even really mixing the ingredients or spreading the seasoning, just pushing them around in a big clump.
You stared at him silently for a few seconds and it seemed as though your disapproval was radiating off of you when he turned.
He looked at you innocently. “What?”
You paused and sighed before turning the heat under the sauce on low and moving closer to him.
“I can’t even explain how bad you’re doing this. Here––” You took the wooden spoon from him and shooed him away. You started mixing the ingredients correctly and he stood behind you to look over your shoulder, bringing a hand to your hip but you could sense his eyes weren’t on the food. Suddenly, the thought occurred to you that he was doing it wrong on purpose, but you couldn’t find it in you to be annoyed.
“Mm you’re right. It does look better when you do it.” He slid both his hands around you and let them roam your waist and stomach before pressing his lips to your shoulder and you took a deep breath, not wanting to let him fluster you.
“Tom.” He hummed in response. “Behave.”
He chuckled, trailing his lips up to your neck. “I am behaving. Making you feel good means I’m doing good.”
You laughed out his name and he sighed playfully. “Alright, alright.” He pecked your cheek before letting his hands rest at your waist. “I’ll be good.”
Tom didn’t keep his hands or his lips to himself but he did keep them over your clothes and in appropriate places so he technically did keep his word. Within no time, the food was ready and the table was set, with the two of you across from each other at the dinner table.
Tom served you first and then himself, before taking a few pastas on his fork and reaching over to you. “Open up.” You could see a familiar glint in his eyes but bit back a comment and leaned forward to eat the food, ignoring his lingering stare on your lips. The only word that came to mind to describe his voice was silk, as he spoke up. “There you go. How’s it taste, love?”
You chewed pensively, taking your sweet time to savor the taste and drag it out, making him smile knowingly at you. But you couldn’t deny it––”It’s really good. Try it.” You took your own fork to your plate and he sat up expectantly. You looked up at him deceivingly oblivious. “Why aren’t you eating?”
He looked at you, mocking offense. “You’re not going to feed me?”
You hummed before smiling sweetly at him. “Mm no, I’m good.”
His eyes crinkled as he laughed and the sight made your heart soar. “Fair enough, love.”
Dinner went by smoothly and it wasn’t awkward at all––not that you were expecting it to, but it filled you with a sense of satisfaction and relief when there were no unpleasant silences or red flags that appeared suddenly. He really did seem perfect.
After you finished eating, you moved to his living room and cuddled up on the couch, Tessa joining the two of you immediately, relishing in the fact that she’d gotten double the attention and head pats she normally got.
You and Tom got lost in conversation, his hand running along your thigh mindlessly as you spoke, the solid eye contact showing you had his undivided attention. You fooled around a bit here and there, sure, but at the end of the day Tom was interested in and respected you above your body and it felt nice to be reminded of that.
You talked for hours and it’s only when he excused himself to the bathroom that you realized the time. You went to the kitchen to put your glass of water away when you heard him come back, easily finding you and making his way over.
“I had a really great time, Tom.” You smiled and looked at him when he placed his hands on your waist.
He licked his lips as he gazed over your features. “I’m glad. I did too.”
He leaned in for a kiss and you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as you pressed your lips against his. The kiss was gentle and slow. Your breathing quickly synced up with his as you pressed up against each other. After a while, you both pulled away, only keeping a few inches of distance between you while you held each other.
“You know,” You spoke up quietly, eyes raking over his face. “I should get home. It’s getting late.”
Tom pouted and held you tighter. “Do you really have to go?”
You smiled almost sympathetically, his puppy dog eyes really having an effect on you. “Yeah Tommy, I really should.”
He tilted his head, “Let me drive you home then.”
Your smile turned more playful, “Already called the uber.”
His pout only deepened, turning more into a frown. “Cancel it.”
You raised a brow, “And pay five dollars? No thanks.”
He raised his brows as well, a hopeful look in his eyes. “What if I give you five dollars?”
You laughed and shook your head, stepping out of his arms to get your things. “Nice try.”
He narrowed his eyes at your retreating figure, though you couldn’t see. “You like to see me suffer, don’t you?”
“Me taking an uber is you suffering?”
He wrapped his arms around you from behind and leaned his head over your shoulder, burying his face in the crook of your neck and shamelessly breathing in your scent. “You refusing to let me take you home and give you a kiss goodnight is most definitely me suffering.”
You put your purse over your shoulder and let your hands trace over the veins in his arms, resting your head on top of his. “You can still give me a goodnight kiss. Just...outside your apartment.”
His voice was muffled but you could hear the pout just the same. “S’not the same.”
You stifled your laugh and waddled over to where your shoes were, Tom still wrapped around you. You looked over at him. “You gonna let me put my shoes on?”
He looked at you and sighed loudly, trying to hide the smile on his face while he got down on his knees to help you put your shoes on. You let him have this since he was being such a baby about not driving you home––an adorable baby, but still.
By the time the uber came, you were both outside waiting. Tom opened the door for you and made sure it was in fact your ride before giving you a kiss and helping you get in, mumbling complaints about how the kiss lacked the oomf he was looking for.
He looked at you earnestly once you settled in, placing a hand on your cheek. “Get home safe, okay? Text me when you get there.”
You pursed your lips to prevent yourself from joking about his behavior and nodded. “I will, Tommy.” You leaned into his touch and squeezed his hand. “See you.”
He paused and bent down to pull you in for another, much more enticing kiss that had you leaning up for more, but just as he was about to slip his tongue into the mix, he remembered where you were. He pulled away slowly, his thumb rubbing circles on your cheek softly. “Goodnight.”
Your voice was small, eyes wide. “Night.”
He smirked and pinched your cheek lightly before stepping back and shutting the door. He stayed on the sidewalk until you drove off, only going up to his apartment when you reached the end of the block.
You were honestly daydreaming until the driver spoke up, knocking you out of it.
“You guys look cute together.”
A smile made its way onto your face before you knew it. “Thank you.”
A week later when Tom invited you over to watch a film, you thought you were going to watch a movie––and rightfully so. With Tom, it always took the two of you some time to figure out what you wanted to watch––so you could imagine your surprise when he led you to his room, saying he set everything up already.
He smirked. “Trust me, darling.” He squeezed your hand as you got closer to his room. “You’ll like this one.” His tone was soft but teasing and your brows furrowed in confusion...until you stepped into his room and noticed what was on his tv, ready to play.
He pulled you closer and stood behind you. “This came out last night.” It was the video you’d shot with him last month. “Wanted to watch it.” He kissed your neck, whispering into your skin. “More than anything, honestly.” His hands squeezed your waist before sliding under your shirt. “But I knew it’d be much,” he kissed higher and higher, “much,” he licked your earlobe and bit it softly, “better if we watched it together.” He licked his lips, holding you tight as he tilted his head to look at you over your shoulder. “Don’t you think?”
You bit your lip, your eyes focusing on the cover picture for the video––one of his hands on your ass, the other wrapped around your waist, his cock inside of you. You remember the stretch, the fire you felt inside of you just from the intensity in his gaze as he looked up at you.
You nodded, “Yeah I––I want to.”
He smiled. “Good.” He kissed your cheek, his hands reaching for the hem of your shirt. “Let’s get this off, yeah?” He pulled the shirt off of you and let it fall to the floor then undid your bra before sliding it down your arms and letting it fall beside your shirt. He kissed his way down your spine as he bent down, his hands reaching for your pants and underwear at the same time. He pulled them both down slowly, letting his lips trail after his hands, each kiss sending you further into a frenzy.
Once you stepped out of them he let his hands slide back up your body as he stood up. He kissed your shoulder then turned you around, stopping your hands when you tried to reach for his shirt. When you looked at him with a confused pout, he smiled and gave you a sweet kiss, his thumbs rubbing the back of your hands as he held them.
“I’m gonna stay dressed for a little bit, okay?”
You tilted your head, only more confused. “Why?”
He licked his lips, looking at you earnestly. “Do you trust me?” You nodded immediately and he felt something warm burst in his chest. He pulled you towards the bed. “Come.”
He got onto the bed in the middle and turned you around so that you were lying between his legs, pressing play on the remote. He spoke softly as you settled in. “We’re going to watch our video together and I’m going to touch you the entire time, okay?” You felt your breath hitch, almost as if you were no longer in control of your body as you nodded. “But if you look away from the screen,” he started, letting his hands trail along your body, wherever he could reach, “I stop.”
He tilted his head to look at you, “What do you say, hm?” His touch was gentle, barely there, but it sent a rush down your body, already working you up.
Your voice was barely a whisper. “Okay.”
Tom’s hands trailed along your sides gently as the video played, only letting them wander when the video got steamier, his hands pulling you back against his crotch on the screen. A strong wave of heat spread through your body, the desperation and want climbing to the surface with every touch. You started to squirm, your breath getting heavier, nipples harder with each passing second.
Your eyes were focused on the screen, but your mind was elsewhere, distracted by the feeling of Tom’s fingertips grazing over your pebbled nipples, along your torso, the sides of your legs. Your thighs started rubbing together on their own, your body aching to relieve some tension but Tom was quick to notice and spread your legs with his hands.
“No, you don’t get to touch yet, baby.” You whined quietly and he shushed you. “Be a good girl.” He cooed. “Know you want to be my good girl, don’t you?”
You nodded, already slipping into your submissive headspace. “Your good girl.”
He kissed your cheek in silent praise, trailing his kisses down to your neck. The kisses were long, hypnotic, sensual and they weren’t doing anything to help you keep your head on straight.
When you moaned softly and tilted your head back to give him more access, he tutted, bringing a hand up from your thigh to hold under your jaw. He pulled your head back up, his mouth grazing your ear. “Keep your eyes on the screen, darling.”
You watched as he spread you open and devoured you on the screen, stretching you out with his fingers––you remember how full you felt from just his fingers, and then from his cock and the thought was enough to have you clenching desperately around nothing, your hips bucking aimlessly in the air as Tom teased you. He bit your neck gently and put your legs over his own, spreading you wide open for him yet again, the combination of those actions making you whine desperately.
Slowly, he inched his hand down and grazed his fingers over your cunt, humming amusedly, when you raised your hips subconsciously. You were already aching for him to touch you, to fill you up and he was having the time of his life teasing you. But you could tell what refusing you was doing to him, you could feel his hardness against your back––he wanted you just as much as you wanted him.
He spent five minutes just teasing you, meanwhile on the screen you’d just reached your first orgasm and you found yourself envious of the you in the video. You rolled your hips, your cunt grazing his fingertips. “Please Tommy.” You licked your lips and turned your head, forcing him to pull away from your neck and look at you. “Need you to touch me.”
He smirked letting his lower hand move to your inner thigh, the pads of his fingers caressing the sensitive skin. “I am touching you, darling.”
You brought one hand up behind your head to grab his hair, the other gripping his hand on your thigh. Your voice was the embodiment of desperation and unfiltered thirst as you spoke up over the sounds of your second orgasm in the video. “Please––” You placed his hand on your throbbing cunt and sighed even from the slightest pressure. “Touch me here.”
Tom’s cocky essence faltered for a moment, his pupils dilating, breath heavying––but it was quick to return as he rubbed your pussy with all of his fingers sloppily, spreading the mess. “Oh is this what you wanted? Hm?” You could feel the vibrations of his voice from his chest against your back as he purred into your ear, one of his fingers slipping past your velvet walls. You moaned breathlessly, the relief you felt evident in the way your body sunk into him. “Always such a desperate girl for me, aren’t you?” He slipped another finger in and chuckled at the way you moaned for him. “Yeah,” he cooed, “always so needy. Don’t worry baby, I’ll take good care of you.”
He pressed his lips against yours, swallowing your moans as his tongue toyed with your own. The kiss was sloppy but passionate, making you buck your hips onto his fingers. When he pulled away from the kiss, he let his gaze trail down to your plump, wet lips, feeling his own quirk up when you tried to lean in for more.
“Eyes back on the screen, love.”
Knowing he’d only tease you more and possibly drag this out longer than intended, you decided against defying him and turned your head, biting your lip to stop yourself from whining.
He nuzzled back into your neck, “Good girl.” He picked up the pace of his fingers, pumping them into you at an angle, pressing them against your sweet spot. His palm pressed against your clit and you jolted, leaning further into his touch. He thrust his fingers into you as far as they could go, moaning against your neck when you mewled, letting his palm rub against your bundle of nerves.
He held you against him with one arm around your middle to prevent you from squirming away, his thighs spread out completely to keep you wide open for him as you panted and writhed, your eyes barely open as you watched yourself near your third orgasm, your body almost reminding you of what it felt like, the white hot pleasure spreading from your core to the rest of your limbs. You were so close you could feel it, your mind and body preparing for it.
Tom licked a stripe up your neck, biting down and sucking hard, his fingers moving with more purpose inside of you. “Can tell you need release, love.” His voice was quiet, practically slurred as he dragged his slick lips over your skin, only igniting the flame inside of you further. “This cunt is sucking me in, begging to cum.”
Through almost slitted eyes you could see your legs starting to tremble on the screen, sweet moans and gasps escaping your lips. Tom’s voice was in your ear, lulling you, hypnotizing you as you climbed closer and closer towards your peak. “Cum for me baby, give it to me.” At his command, it was as if your body flipped a switch, the dam finally breaking. Your legs twitched and he made sure to keep them apart with his own, fucking his fingers into you harder as your mouth dropped open, your eyes fluttering shut as you let out a broken moan. Your hips were almost violently bucking into his hand, your breaths heavy but short and unsteady as you buried your head further into his shoulder, your body not sure how to handle the pleasure.
As your high washed over you, he slipped his fingers out. He rubbed your clit as he did before, spreading your wetness all over your mound as the aftershocks hit you. “That’s it,” he cooed. “There we go. Is that better, lovie?” His voice was so sweet, despite the dash of condescension sprinkled in it––it only made you want him more.
He swiped his fingers through your folds for good measure and brought them up to your lips, a small sigh escaping him when they parted immediately for him. You sucked his fingers eagerly, bucking your head as he thrusted them in and out slowly.
After watching you in awe until he couldn’t take it anymore, without warning, he took his fingers out and put them back on your cunt, pressing his lips against yours, muffling your moans. “Let me have a taste, don’t be greedy, darling.” He practically shoved his tongue into your mouth, eager to taste you any way he could. Both of your lips were plump and shiny in spit and your slick––you felt filthy in the best way.
The video was still playing and you could hear the sounds of Tom fucking you, his cock covered in your slick, you remembered it clear as day and could picture it without even looking. You moaned wantonly, “Need your cock, Tommy. Please.”
He smirked against your lips and bit your bottom one teasingly before pulling away, “What,” he thrusted his fingers back into you without warning, making you moan even louder. “This greedy pussy need more? You wanna be filled with my cock? My fingers weren’t enough?”
You looked at him pleadingly, your eyes glassy with lust and he kissed you once again, knocking the breath out of you. “I’ll give you what you need, darling. Don’t you worry.” He helped you off of him and hastily took his clothes off, chuckling when your hands came to help him discard everything, the desperation clear in your actions.
Once he was fully undressed, he sat back against the headboard and ushered you onto his lap, his hands easily finding your waist as you settled on top of him. He looked up at you fondly, the lust clear as day in his eyes as he grabbed his member with one hand, raising you up with the other. “You ready, lovie?”
You nodded and he smiled, before slowly sinking his cock into you, the both of you moaning at the tight fit, the mess between your thighs making him glide into you smoothly. You rested your forehead against his until he bottomed out. Both of his hands came to grab at your ass, spreading the cheeks apart and pushing them together as you eased yourself up and down his cock.
“God––just like that baby. Take my cock so well.”
You whined in response and centered yourself before finding a solid pace, the both of you locking eyes with each other. “Fuck––” you grabbed onto his shoulders to steady yourself. “You feel so––good, Tommy.”
He cursed, bucking his hips into you. “Yeah, my cock fills you up nice and good, hm?”
You nodded your head and let it tilt back, your eyes fluttering shut as you focused on the pleasure. Your thighs were slapping against his, your moans choppy, cut off with every thrust. The pit in your stomach was expanding with every bounce, every slap of Tom’s hands against your cheeks.
He started thrusting up into you harder and faster, his hands now gripping your waist and practically fucking you onto his cock himself. You lifted your head and with one look at you, Tom could tell you needed more. He pulled you into him and wrapped his arms around your waist, letting you tuck your head into the crook of his neck. “I’ve got you baby.”
He planted his feet on the bed and started thrusting wildly, much quicker than before and your eyes rolled to the back of your head, your mouth falling open in shock at how good you felt. “F–Fuck!––”
His hands slid along your back, holding you in place as he grunted and moaned in your ear. “Feel so fucking good, angel. So tight.” The sound of his hips slapping against your ass was deafening and you could feel your peak coming closer and closer with each thrust.
His hand came down against your skin and you clenched around him, making him groan loudly. “Gonna cum inside this tight pussy baby, oh fuck––Cum with me baby come on, drench my cock so I can fill you up.”
Your high hit you hard, your body trembling on top of him as you gasped and writhed in his hold, your walls tightening around his cock, his hips thrusting hard until he peaked as well, coating your insides. He slid his hands down to your ass and grabbed it, bucking his hips a few more times slowly to drag out your pleasure.
You stayed like that for a while, his hands roaming and caressing your back as you caught your breath. Your bodies were spent, but your minds were soothed. He kissed your shoulder and eased your head up to look in your eyes with a small smile. “Feel okay?”
You bit your lip, smiling as you nodded, your eyes wanting to shut, even more so when he brought a hand up to hold your face.
“Would you like to stay over?” He ran a thumb over your cheek and you leaned into his touch, soothed by the gesture––it’s as if he knew you needed something as small as that to convince you to stay.
You smiled, “I mean, if you’ll have me.”
He chuckled and shook his head. “Can’t imagine a world where I wouldn’t, love.”
You started going over to Tom’s house more often, joking that it was mainly to see Tessa, but you both knew the truth. Your relationship blossomed, and though you didn’t put a label on it…yet, you were happy, you both were.
The two of you were cuddled up in his bed, having spent the day together. You’d both just woken up from your nap, you were both kind of tired and thought, why not?
“So I was thinking...” Tom started, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin, under your shirt as he looked at you.
“Oh boy,” You teased.
He pinched your side playfully, scrunching up his face in protest, “Hey!”
You laughed, “I’m kidding.” You brought your hand down to hold his. “Go on.”
“Anyway, as I was saying.” He said sassily. “Since the viewers seemed to really like seeing us work together,” He focused on your hands, too nervous to look in your eyes all of a sudden. “And since we’re obviously a good pair together, I was wondering…if you maybe wanted to film something with me?” He looked up at you and you could see the hesitance in his gaze, the vulnerability. “Like just us and the camera at my place?”
You paused and stopped breathing for a moment––sure you’d filmed a scene with him before and the viewers got to see a bit of your chemistry already, but if it was a personal video that you were making, basically a sex tape, it felt much more intimate, like letting people in on a private part of your life.
When you took a bit to respond, Tom spoke up. “You don’t have to I just––”
“I want to.” You squeezed his hand and looked into his eyes earnestly, softening when you noticed a smile stretch onto his face. “I’d love to.”
“Yeah?” His voice was small but cheerful, full of adoration as he watched you nod and smile up at him. He leaned down to kiss you and you eagerly responded, bringing a hand up to tug at his curls, loving the groan he let out between your lips. Without disconnecting from the kiss, he moved over, placing himself in between your legs and pressing himself down onto you, reveling in the soft gasp that escaped you.
“Did you mean–” You started, between kisses. “Right now?”
His lips curved into a smile as he continued kissing you. “No,” his hand squeezed your side playfully as he pulled away to look down at you, a cheeky glint in his eyes. “But we could always practice, yeah?”
You licked your lips which definitely didn’t go unnoticed by him. “I guess you’re right.”
He scrunched his nose adorably, contrasting wildly with the enticing feeling of his hand sliding along the side of your thigh, up the curve of your ass. “Nonsense, darling. I’m always right.” Before you could respond, he pressed his lips back to yours and lifted one of your legs towards him––you got the message and wrapped both around his waist as he started grinding onto you.
As you got lost in the feeling of him you couldn’t help but think, maybe so.
Even though the last time you worked with Sebastian he said you’d “definitely do this again”, part of you honestly thought he was just saying that. So when you got a message from him, saying that he had a video he wanted to shoot with you at the end of the week, you were surprised but most importantly excited. And when he told you that there wasn’t a detailed script for it, you were more excited than before.
Sebastian was known for improvising during his videos to make everything feel more natural, to get real reactions from the people he was working with and to get really immersed into the scene, and you’d gotten a little taste of that last time. But he was also known for being a notoriously good dirty talker, the cheesy scripts never having lines even close to being as good as the ones he improvised.
The comments under his videos were always praising his dirty talk, along with his skill, and for good reason. You’d find yourself coming from his words alone when you watched his videos and the thought that you’d get to be on the receiving end of them was enough to send your mind into overdrive.
You’d be filming in one of the sets at work today, in one of the fake bedrooms since there was no actual plot behind the scene, just passionate sex––Sebastian’s words.
When you walked in Sebastian perked up immediately, coming over to greet you. “Hi doll,” he hugged you with a big smile, his eyes quickly glancing down to your exposed collarbone to your eyes as he licked his lips. The scene would be starting with the both of you making out on the bed, already naked, so the both of you were just in your robes, ready to go.
You smiled back. “Hi Seb.” He’d insisted you call him that since you’d been talking now and then since the last time you’d worked and you were glad to see his brows raise slightly at the sound of his nickname falling from your lips, clearly pleased.
He bit his lip through his smile, “You nervous?”
You shrugged sheepishly, “Maybe a little.”
His eyes crinkled as he laughed slightly. “You have nothing to worry about, I promise.” He took your hand gently. “I’ve got you, remember? I’ll take good care of you, you know that.”
You bit your lip and nodded, a glint in your eyes. “I do.”
His eyes darkened ever so slightly and he ushered you towards the bed.
This was a more laid back and intimate shoot so there were only a few people in the room besides you and Seb, one cameraman, another in charge of lighting and the director, but when he looked at you, you were quick to forget where you were and that anyone else was even in the room with you.
You barely heard when the director said action, all your senses too focused on the man hovering above you as he leaned down to kiss you, but not before giving you a sly wink. He leaned in and pressed his lips against yours, grinding his bare lower half into yours as you wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer.
You could feel him getting harder as he grinded onto you and you sighed, bucking your hips to meet his as he licked into your mouth languidly, wanting you to feel every single thing he was doing to you. One of his hands came up to tilt your jaw up as he kissed you deeply, his tongue eagerly and sensually toying with yours before he sucked on it and closed his lips around yours, swallowing your moans.
He kept at it, teasing you with his mouth and his cock until he could feel your wetness sliding along his thick member and until you were panting into the kiss. He pulled away and looked into your eyes, his mouth dropped open as he stared at you with lust coating his gaze. He leaned in for another, wet, passionate kiss, before kissing your cheek and along your jaw to nibble on your earlobe teasingly. His breath was hot and sending tingles down your body as he spoke.
“I’ve been dying to eat your pretty pussy again.” He licked along the shell of your ear and sucked on the lobe before pulling away to get a good look at you, his blue eyes practically hypnotizing you. “Would you like that darlin’?” He slid his hand down your neck, and trailed it down your body, pushing your thigh open to rest his hand between your legs and tap on your clit, smiling when you bucked into him. “Would you like having my mouth back on you? My tongue fucking you?”
You bit your lip to stop the moan from escaping but Sebastian caught on and brought his hand back up to tug your lip free, licking his own as he watched you. “Just say the word pretty girl, and I’m all yours.”
He smirked, looking at you innocently, eyes wide. “Please what?”
You mustered the most seductive look you could and batted your lashes at him, a small pout on your luscious lips. “Please eat my pussy. Pretty please.”
He clenched his jaw and passed his tongue under his top teeth, eyes watching you like you were his prey. “Good girl.” He made his way down, keeping his eyes on yours as he kissed along your legs, his hands gliding along your soft skin. As soon as he was in position, he wasted no time, diving into you tongue first, leaving a sloppy kiss on your lips that immediately had your back arching. He hummed, amused and clearly turned on as he began grinding into the mattress slightly, one hand coming up to press down on your stomach, the other pushing your thigh back as he made out with your pussy.
He was clearly enjoying himself as much as you, groaning and moaning into you, occasionally closing his eyes to just feel you out with his tongue, his hand gripping your thigh tight. But when he noticed both of your hands gripping at the sheets, knowing you didn’t want to pull his hair too hard, he took them in his own and held them down on either side of you, his eyes practically pinning you in place as he looked up at you cheekily.
It didn’t take long for you to feel that familiar bubble growing in the pit of your stomach with Sebastian being an expert at his craft. He was observant and you could tell that he’d picked up on what you’d liked the last time you’d worked together, even though it was weeks ago, he’d stored that information for later and it was clearly paying off. He was licking and touching all the right spots and within no time, you were coming on his tongue and he was eagerly lapping up your wetness, making a mess between your thighs.
Your back arched, your stomach quivering from the pleasure as your eyes fluttered shut. You cursed into the hot air of the room, your voice shaky, the only other sound being the shameless slurping and groaning between your legs. You opened your eyes to find Sebasian already looking at you, and you could tell he wasn’t satisfied enough.
Without giving you a moment to collect yourself, Sebastian got up on his knees and bent your legs back, spreading you wide open for him, his eyes narrowed in on your pulsing pussy. He’d told you beforehand that he was planning on making you cum over and over again and you could tell he wasn’t one to go back on his word.
“Still taste fucking delicious.” He practically growled and licked his lips before sucking on his tongue and spitting on your cunt, his eyes shooting up to yours when you gasped lightly. You felt it trickle down your slit and moaned before a yelp escaped your lips when he leaned down and spread his spit around with his tongue quickly, your body shivering under him, still sensitive from your high.
His hands were keeping your thighs spread apart, folding you in half, but the burn was only fueling your lust. His tongue was moving fast but precisely, knowing exactly what to do to keep that rush of pleasure throughout your body. “Play with your tits baby.” You whined in response and brought your hands up to squeeze your breasts and tug and tease your nipples. “That’s it, just like that. Wanna make you cum again, okay?” You nodded desperately and he smiled, leaning back in to please you with his mouth.
Between the way he was looking up at you, getting riled up just from touching you, the way his tongue and lips felt around your clit and the way your fingertips were grazing your pebbled nipples, it was all too much. You let out a string of sharp moans, your breath getting quicker and quicker by the second as your thighs strained under Sebastian’s hands. Your legs were trembling but he didn’t let up until you came with a cry, your hands desperately squeezing your breasts as your mouth dropped open.
He didn’t pull away until your hand came down to half-heartedly push him away, too overwhelmed. You felt his lips curve into a smile as he trailed his way up your body to kiss your lips which you eagerly accepted, your hands coming up to tug his hair, making him groan temptingly into your mouth.
You reached down to wrap your hand around him to help him relieve himself, knowing he was probably aching for a release and he groaned and pulled away to look down at your hand. “Shit–” He clenched his jaw, visibly trying to control himself before grabbing your wrist gently but firmly, looking up at you with a playfully stern look. “Not today, sweetheart.”
You pouted, completely enchanted in your little bubble with him. “Wanna make you feel good too.”
He smiled and brought your hand up to kiss your knuckles. “You will baby, I promise. You’ll make me feel so good.” He gave you a quick kiss and turned you over on all fours. His hands slid over your ass before he slapped one of your cheeks fondly, the sound echoing in the room as you mewled. “But I’m gonna stretch you out for me first, okay?”
You nodded, but he tutted, slapping your ass again, this time as a warning. “Words baby, come on.”
“Okay.” You turned to see the pleased smile on his face.
“Good girl.” He cooed, sliding a hand along your spine to push your arch further before grabbing your ass with both hands and spreading them to see your wet lips. “God look at you,” he spanked you again lightly, enticed by the way your ass jiggled under his palm. “So fucking pretty.” You whined from his words and almost lurched forward from the feeling of his tongue back on you, but his hands were quick to hold your thighs and keep you from jumping away.
He moaned and sunk further into you, his fingertips pressing into your skin. You buried your face into the sheets and whimpered. “I thought you––fuck–”
You felt him panting against your heat when he pulled away to answer you. “I know baby, I know. I’m gonna fuck you I promise, your pussy’s just drooling for me, sweetheart, begging for me to lick it again.” He breathed out, “Just let me get one more taste and I promise I’ll get you ready for my cock, okay?”
You nodded and let out a quiet “okay” and he dove back in, licking a torturously long stripe up your slit before sucking on your clit harshly and pulling away with a loud smack. He slid a finger in and cursed at how wet you felt inside, “Can’t even imagine how much you’re gonna wet my cock baby girl.” You gripped the sheets desperately, this close to drooling on them when he slid a second finger in and curled it, making you moan loudly.
“Mm,” he laughed enticingly, “that’s the spot isn’t it? Yeah, that’s it. That feel good?” You nodded desperately, bucking into his touch and he bit his lip, cooing down at you. “Yeah I know it does baby, can feel you clenching around my fingers.”
He brought his thumb down to your clit, holding you still when you jolted. “Need you to cum on my fingers okay? Then I can fill you up with my cock the way you need.” He pressed his lips to your ass, biting it cheekily and you could feel his eyes on you as you squirmed underneath him.
Soon enough, you were panting and moaning, your body trembling as you came, his fingers and words encouraging you through your high and making your eyes roll back. “There you go, make a mess on my fingers––so good for me.”
He slid his fingers out of you and you whined when you looked back to see him cleaning them with his tongue, sucking your wetness off, he really was drunk on your taste. He pulled you up and gave you a wet kiss, letting you taste yourself. You were both moaning into each other, Sebastian’s hands roaming all over your body, one hand grabbing your ass, the other gripping your waist as he moved the both of you around.
Within no time, he was sitting against the headboard, his hands pulling you over his hips as he looked up at you with hunger in his gaze. “This cock is yours baby, take it.”
You swallowed a whimper and grabbed his member, swiping it between your folds, making him buck into you slightly and hiss. “Fuck, don’t tease me baby, please.” His hands gripped your waist. “Put me inside, come on.” You smiled and put the tip in before sliding down slowly, the both of you moaning out loud.
“Your little pussy feels so tight––so good around my cock, gorgeous, fuck.”
“Think you can take it deeper princess?” You slid down further on his cock and he groaned, his hands digging into your ass before one of his arms slid around your waist to hold you close. “That’s it, take my cock baby, such a good girl––”
You bounced up and down slowly to get used to the stretch and Sebastian’s eyes were trained on you, entranced by how you looked bouncing on him. “Look so fucking good, doll. Feel amazing too.” He leaned forward and left kisses on your chest, before swirling his tongue around your nipple and sucking, making you cry out, one of your hands digging into his shoulder, the other grabbing his hair, making him moan around you sinfully.
When your pace started to falter, he quickly took over. He bent his knees and started to pound into you from underneath and you gasped, trying to bury your face in the crook of his neck, overwhelmed by the force and speed behind his thrusts but he brought his hand up to grab your throat and pull you up, his hips never ceasing.
“Look at me baby, look at me while you take that cock.”
Your brows were furrowed as you looked at him, your eyes aching to flutter shut but also mesmerized by the sight in front of you. The sound of his hips slapping against your ass was loud and hypnotizing, his pace never faltering and repeatedly hitting your special spot.
His eyes never drifted from your face, gaze flitting from your eyes to your lips occasionally before he’d pull you in for a reeling kiss. After a couple minutes you could feel yourself getting close again, your third orgasm needing a bit more effort to reach. You were pushing your hips back to meet Sebastian’s thrusts, the ache in your stomach almost unbearable, the pressure needing to snap soon.
He could tell you were getting desperate and luckily enough, he was getting close as well. “You wanna feel me drip inside of you baby, want me to fill you up with my cum?” You whined and he cursed at the sound and the feeling of you clenching around him from his words. “Can tell you’re close––Cum with me baby, wanna feel you cum around my cock while I fill you up.”
He brought his hand back down to your ass and let you lean forward to kiss and bite at his neck. You slid your hand down your body to rub at your clit but he was quick to move your hand away, his voice gruff and hot in your ear. “Ah ah, that’s my job baby, you know that. You just stay there and feel good, okay?”
You moaned loudly in his ear and he chuckled, rubbing your clit furiously as you both bucked into each other desperately. “Yes fuck me back baby, squeeze me with that tight little pussy, yes yes––”
You tensed above him as your mouth dropped open, your legs trembling around him and he kept thrusting into you as he came as well with a loud groan. “Fuuuck––” He thrusted a few more times, letting the both of your releases slide down his cock before he fucked them back into you, making you whine.
His hands came down to grab your ass again and he spread your cheeks, letting his cock slide in and out of you a few times for the camera before the director said cut. She praised you guys and the crew started wrapping everything up, letting you and Sebastian cool off together, seeing you were in your own little world.
You both sat up, still connected and smiled at each other. Sebastian’s hands trailed over your back soothingly as his eyes glinted up at you. “How you feelin’ doll?” He licked his lips, clearly knowing the answer, but you indulged him.
You let your fingers play with the hair at the nape of his neck and smiled when his eyes fluttered shut for a second, his head leaning further into your touch. “Really good. Amazing, honestly.” You tilted your head teasingly, “You really know how to treat a girl, huh?”
His cheeks turned a subtle shade of pink as he laughed sheepishly. “I try.” It was honestly charming that despite his reputation, he was still humble and flustered from compliments. “That was probably one of the best shoots I’ve ever done, honestly.”
You raised your brows, surprised and flattered. “Really?”
He bit his lip and nodded. “Really.” He squeezed your waist playfully, “I should thank you for working with me again, I hope I made it worth your while.”
You clenched around him teasingly and he gasped softly, “I think I should be the one thanking you.”
He hummed, “Well then we’re both thankful for each other then, how’s that?”
You nodded with a smile, “Okay.”
He leaned in for a quick kiss that may have turned into a few more pecks, just as a way of wrapping up the scene and comforting each other while you calmed down, your hands holding and caressing each other softly. But soon, you were both cleaned up, back in your robes and Sebastian was walking you to your dressing room.
When you reached it, the both of you stopped and sighed. “Alright,” he placed a hand on your waist and gave you a friendly kiss on the cheek. “I’ll see you doll. Get home safe, okay?”
“I will,” you smiled. “Bye Seb.” With that, he winked and was on his way and you made your way into your dressing room, shocked to find a familiar face on your couch, prompting a very familiar feeling to burst in your chest.
He sat there, legs spread, his phone in his hand as he stared up at you with a smile, his eyes quickly flitting from Sebastian’s retreating figure to you. “Darling.”
You closed the door and walked into his open arms as he sat up, setting his phone aside and motioning for you to come over. He slid his arms around your waist and you placed your hands on his shoulders as you looked down at him. “What are you doing here?”
He pretended to be offended, his mouth dropping open. “Are you not happy to see me?”
You shook your head with a smile, “That’s not what I said.”
His mouth closed into a fond smile, his eyes twinkling as he looked up at you, resting his chin on your stomach. “I just wanted to see you.” You could see his cheeks turning the faintest shade of pink as his eyes widened slightly. You’d told him about the scene you’d be filming today and he couldn’t help but stop by. “If that’s okay? I guess I should have asked before showing up like this. I’m s––”
You laughed, the pretty sound making him trail off as he stared at you almost in awe. You brought a hand up to his cheek and looked down at him warmly. “It’s okay Tommy. It was a nice surprise.”
He raised his brows hopefully, “Yeah?”
You nodded, looking into his eyes. “Yeah.” You snapped out of your daze and tried to get out of his hold but he held you tighter, making you roll your eyes playfully. “Tom, I have to shower and get dressed.”
He buried his cheek in your stomach in response. “Don’t wanna let go.” His words were muffled against your robe. “You’re comfy.” Your hand came around to scratch at his scalp and he groaned, the vibrations strong against your stomach as he closed his eyes. “That’s definitely not helping you here.”
You looked up at the ceiling, more amused than exasperated. “Do you want to join me in the sh––”
He got up before you could finish your sentence. “Yes.” He took your hand with a cheeky smile and led you to the shower in your dressing room, stripping his clothes off while you untied your robe.
He turned the knob in the shower and you took the liberty of letting your eyes trace along the veins of his arms as he stretched, then the muscles in his back, and the curves of his ass, finding yourself getting distracted rather easily, so much so that you didn’t notice him talking to you at first until he waved his hand, with a cheeky smile on his face.
“You okay there? You seem a little distracted.”
You felt your cheeks heat up as you looked into his eyes. “Mhm no I’m––I’m good.”
He laughed, bringing his hand up to scratch the back of his head, no doubt to flex and get you more flustered. He licked his lips and hummed. “Well, come here.” You stepped forward embarrassingly quickly and he slipped his hands down to hold your waist gently as he leaned forward, letting his lips just about graze yours. You tilted your head and were about to close the distance between you when he swerved his head to whisper in your ear. “Let me know if the water’s good for you.”
You could feel him holding back his laughter and huffed out a breath as you shoved him aside, making him yelp before he cackled softly behind you. You leaned forward and put your hand under the water before retracting it almost immediately with a soft gasp.
You turned back to look at Tom, unsurprised to see his eyes flitting upwards from your lower half, wide half from concern and from being caught. “What––what’s wrong?”
“Tom, this is freezing.”
His head jerked back slightly as he looked at you, offended. “Wha––No it’s not, that’s a completely normal temperature.”
You shook your head, “No, it most definitely is not. Do you seriously shower in this?”
He nodded. “Every day, thank you very much.”
You turned back around to make it warmer, “Well this just won’t do.” You turned the knob a good amount and felt the water, adjusting it until you were satisfied. “There, that’s better.”
You looked back to see Tom staring at you incredulously. “There’s no way I’m getting in that.”
“What do you mean?”
“Love, there’s steam coming from it! Are you trying to cook us alive?”
You rolled your eyes, “Drama queen.” You sighed and went back to the knob, making a face to yourself when you realized there actually was steam coming from the water. You turned it as cold as you could handle, somewhere in the middle and stepped out of the way for Tom to test it. “This is the best compromise I can make.” You lifted your head, “Otherwise we can’t shower together.”
He pouted but tested the water, “Alright. I can deal with this.” He gave you a cheeky smile as he stepped closer to you. “For you.” He pressed his lips to your cheek and let you step in first, giving your ass a squeeze as you walked by him.
You took your time cleaning up, the both of you touching each other gently and soothingly as the water fell down on the two of you.
Tom spread the soap on your body for you, his hands lathering your chest, down to your stomach, then your arms, his eyes never leaving your face. He turned you around and spread the soap along your back, before one hand rested on your waist, the other reaching around you to slide it up your torso to your neck. His chest was pressed up against your back and you gasped quietly when he squeezed your throat ever so slightly, pressing his lips against your jaw and letting his hand trail back down and fall to his side briefly.
He stepped back and slid his hands down your back, bending down to let his hands fall over your ass, massaging them gently and generously before he lathered your legs as well.
When he stood back up, his hands followed, gliding up your curves tenderly, familiarly. “This okay?” You turned your head over your shoulder to find his lips mere inches away from yours and your eyes immediately drifted to them, your breath suddenly heavier.
You nodded, “More than okay.” You turned around and placed your hands on his chest, stepping closer to him. “But you know, you need some too.” You pressed your chest against his and he took a sharp inhale, his hands gripping your waist as best he could. You raised one leg, wrapping it around his waist and his hand was quick to glide along your leg to hold behind your knee and squeeze your thigh slightly, making sure you stayed steady.
You pressed your lips against his finally and he moaned quietly into your mouth, his lips moving gently against yours as one of his hands reached down to grab your ass cheekily and pull you impossibly closer. The two of you got lost in each other for a moment but you pulled away to catch your breath after a few minutes.
Tom took the soap and put some in your hands, winking after he put it back in it’s spot. “Don’t forget my back, darling.” He turned around and you smiled to yourself before rubbing it along his shoulders, into his skin, taking your time to feel him up as he did to you. You lathered him up, your fingers pressing into his ass generously, making him smirk to himself––people did tend to take a liking to it, according to the comments on in his videos, anyway.
You stepped closer to him and let your breasts press up against his back, bringing your arms around to caress and spread the soap on his torso as well. You let your hands slip down to his v-line every now and then and on the third time, he took a sharp breath and turned around, wrapping his arms around you and kissing you deeply, letting bbth your bodies go under the water to wash off.
He gave you a few quick pecks before pulling away and turning you back around so your back was against his chest and trailed one hand down your body, the other holding your neck and your jaw, tilting your head to face him. His lips grazed against yours as he spoke, his hand stopping just under your belly button.
“You’re probably still sensitive, yeah?”
You swallowed and nodded. “A little.”
He looked at you earnestly, and you could tell he was ready to collect himself and stop completely if you said so. “Do you want to stop?”
You shook your head, “No. Want you.”
His lips curved into a smile before he gave you a sweet kiss, muffling your gasp as his hand slid between your thighs. He spread your lips with two fingers before his middle tapped on your clit, making you jolt in his hold, prompting him to chuckle against your lips. “So fucking cute.”
He began rubbing your clit and your hips rolled into his touch, still sensitive from before, but nonetheless wanting more, your body always giving in to him. “I’ll make you feel so good,” he whispered, “even better than he did.” His other hand squeezed your throat lightly and you whimpered both from the not so subtle dig at Sebastian and the alluring pressure around your neck, your lips faltering against his, prompting him to take control of the kiss.
You tried to reach a hand behind to help him out but he held you tight. “I’ll take care of that after, you just let me take care of you, yeah?” He whispered against your lips before kissing you again, quickly distracting you. He slipped two fingers inside of you and crooked them precisely, sliding his thumb over your bundle of nerves before rubbing fiercely––the pressure building inside of you almost making your legs buckle.
You pulled away to moan breathlessly, your mouth dropped open as you stared into his eyes, completely at his mercy and you could see an almost enamored look in his eyes.
“Beautiful.” He whispered, almost to himself as he watched you, coming undone in his arms and that was enough for your head to fall back, your eyes fluttering shut as you let out a few high moans, your legs trembling under the warm water as he held you in place.
For a few seconds, you let your eyes stay closed, focusing on the water falling down on the both of you, the feeling of Tom’s hands and lips on your body as he guided you back to him. You blinked your eyes open to find him smiling at you softly, his gaze tracing over your features fondly as he rubbed your clit softly. You rolled your hips into his touch until he pulled his hand away, bringing it up to rest on your stomach to hold you close.
Turning around in his arms, you pressed your lips against his which he eagerly welcomed. You let one of your hands reach up to tug at his hair while the other trailed down his body to grab a hold of his hard member. He moaned against your lips and you smiled, starting to stroke him and you could tell he was already close. The fact that making you come was enough to send him close to the edge, sent another wave of arousal through your body and a boost to your ego.
You stroked him faster at a steady pace, sighing when his hands gripped your waist tightly, one of his hands sliding down to grab your ass. “Wanna make you feel good, Tommy.” He cursed quietly and you smiled. “Come for me, please?”
He groaned softly and leaned his forehead against yours, bucking his hips into your hand before he came, the water quickly washing it away. You stroked him a few more times slowly until he gasped slightly, overwhelmed from the stimulation.
He kissed your forehead and looked at you with a clearly satisfied smile. “You really are something else.”
You quickly rinsed off, sharing one more sweet kiss and got out of the shower, Tom helping you dry off afterwards. You both got dressed and were soon on your way out of the building.
As you reached the end of the lobby, he pushed the door open for you, guiding you with a hand on the small of your back. “Let me walk you to your car?”
You smiled and nodded, “I’d like that.”
You could see him hesitating for a bit as you walked side by side to the parking lot, his eyes looking down as his hand grazed yours a few times. Finally, after taking a deep breath, he reached over to hold your hand and looked over at you, eyes wide and vulnerable. “Is this okay?”
You swallowed and wrapped your hand around his, squeezing playfully to ease the both of your nerves. “It’s perfect.” You smiled and he smiled back, a light blush on his cheeks as he bit his lip to contain himself, looking back down to his feet sheepishly as he walked.
You could feel the flustered nerves bubbling in your stomach––though you and Tom were close, crazily enough, something as simple as holding hands felt like something more, something good.
The next day you woke up to a text from Tom asking if he could come over with breakfast for the two of you and you eagerly accepted. You got out of bed and stayed in your pajamas, only washing up and brushing your teeth since Tom said he was coming by in his sweats anyway. You liked that you could be casual with each other, that you didn’t have to put up a front, or try really hard to impress one another––you liked being with him.
Though you didn’t have to dress up super nice or anything, you still decided to clean up your house a little bit, putting any dirty dishes you’d left around in the dishwasher and fixing up the pillows on the couch, stuff like that.
It was almost an hour later that Tom arrived, the sound of the doorbell sending an excited thrill through your body and a few butterflies in your stomach. You opened the door almost immediately and were greeted with that oh so familiar charming smile that had you flustered every time you saw it. Tom was wearing grey sweats, as he had mentioned, along with a black hoodie, the hood over his head––and he looked as good as ever.
“Morning, gorgeous.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek and you blinked a few times to wake yourself up from your reverie, stepping out of the way so he could come inside.
Your voice was soft as you watched him walk through the door like a crushing school-girl. “Hi Tommy.”
His eyes crinkled as his smile deepened from your nickname for him and he set the bag of food on the counter in your kitchen. He took his hood down and fluffed his hair with one hand half-heartedly and you could tell he was a bit distracted.
You walked up next to him and placed a hand on his jaw, turning him to face you. He looked into your eyes, his own wide and curious, but nonetheless, welcome to whatever you had to offer. It was adorable. “Thank you for the breakfast. You didn’t have to.” You gave him a small smile and he returned it, a light blush coating his cheeks.
His hands slid down to your waist and gripped it gently. “Of course.” He leaned closer so your noses were touching, “But I wanted to.” He pressed his lips against yours tentatively and you sighed softly as he pulled you closer, his embrace warm and comforting.
He gave you a few long, tender kisses before pulling away and taking a deep breath, his forehead against yours.
“You okay?”
He pulled back, his arms wrapped around your waist as he looked at you. “Yeah I just…I wanted to ask you something actually…” He looked between your eyes hesitantly and you could feel the nervous energy radiating off of him and seeping into you.
You swallowed, your nerves getting the best of you, and nodded slowly. “Okay…What’s up?”
He looked down and blew out a puff of air before looking back up at you. “Okay so…I’ve really liked spending time with you, getting to know you––in more ways than one,” he joked, to ease the tension. “And I––just really like being with you, holding you, calling you mine…So I was wondering if you wanted to make this a little more permanent?”
You could feel your heart beat faster in your chest.
He gave you a sheepish smile, “Will you be my girlfriend?”
You bit your lip but it was no use as the smile burst on your face. Tom gave you a lopsided grin, “I’ll take that as a yes?”
You nodded quickly, overcome with emotions––relief, happiness. “Yes, it’s a definite yes.”
“Good, that’s––that’s great.” He chuckled, unsure of what to do with himself. “I really like you.”
You placed your hands on his cheeks, your smile beaming on your face. “I really like you too.” You leaned back into him and kissed again, this time more passionately, more certain, but just as sweet.
After a short moment, you pulled away and Tom pouted at you, leaning back in for more. You obliged him, his pout getting the best of you, but the second time, you didn’t give in. When you dodged him, he simply went to your cheek and left a few small pecks there. “S’not very nice to deny your boyfriend his kisses, you know.”
You felt a tingly feeling inside from him calling himself your boyfriend and you knew at that moment, that feeling wouldn’t be going away any time soon. You laughed, the sound immediately making him smile against your cheek. You ran a hand through his hair and he hummed. “Well I don’t want the food you brought to go to waste.”
“Mm no we don’t want that.” He mumbled against your face, still leaving his kisses and you rolled your eyes, amused and flustered.
“Tommy,” he hummed and you laughed lightly. “Can we please eat?”
He sighed and stole a quick kiss before standing up straight, his hands still at your waist, a cheeky smile on his face. “Anything for my girl.”
He let you walk past him to where he set the food down but kept his hands on you, sliding his arms around your waist as he plopped his head over your shoulder. “Can you sit on my lap while we eat, though?”
You turned your head towards your shoulder to see him and he raised his brows a few times and you sighed. “Okay.”
He squeezed your sides playfully, smiling at your gasp. “Don’t act like you don’t want to. Besides, my lap is your official seat now, you’ve gotta claim it.”
You turned back to the food to get it out of the bag. “Okay fine. I’ll claim it now while we’re eating…And later as well, how’s that sound?”
His brows furrowed, “Later? What do you mean?”
You smiled, and pushed back into him, biting your lip when he moaned softly. “I’m sure you can figure it out, Tommy.”
“Shit––” His grip tightened on your waist. “You’re gonna kill me, you know that?”
You turned around and looked at him, a teasing glint in your eyes. “Is that a bad thing?”
He licked his lips and shook his head, “Not at all, darling,” caging you in against the counter with his arms, before leaning in to kiss you. “You can do whatever you want to me, I’m all yours.”
@marvelouspeterparker​ 2021 –– please do not repost anywhere 
i did think about adding in their personal video, i rly did but i just couldn't find it in me to write it in smoothly, even tho i felt bad leaving it out. i may write it as an extra, maybe not.
let me know what you think! :)
1K notes · View notes
duskholland · 8 days ago
Inked || Tattoo Artist!Tom Holland Smut
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summary ↠ when you’d made the spontaneous decision to get a tattoo, you hadn’t expected your tattoo artist to be so attractive. as it turns out, tom’s more than just a pretty face and fleeting encounter... ↠ tattoo artist + uni au. word count ↠ 11k. warnings ↠ tattooing (light descriptions of pain; nothing intense but needle mentions obviously), a breakup (w/ a third party (not tom)), tom smokes, party/alcohol, smut. extended nsfw warnings are under the cut but this fic is 18+ !!! minors please dni. a/n ↠ wooh tattoo artist au :D yay! this was a lot of fun to write. a new au for me, and a very new version of tom to play around with. I hope you like how I built his character :D big thanks to chloe @sinisterspidey​ for coming up with the initial plot for this! I modified her idea and built on it, but I owe her all original inspiration <3 fyi--some finer details of the tattooing process are blurred for the sake of comfortable reading :) + just a wee reminder that whilst some places do offer walk-in appointments for tattoos, it’s always best to research artists before you agree to let them tattoo you! ++ also, I guess this is just some reassurance that nothing ~strange~ goes down in this? I’ve seen some pretty weird tattoo artist aus before that felt icky to read, so just know that no lines are crossed that would be deemed unprofessional until it’s been established that enthusiastic consent is there. wooh! :D I hope you like it :D please read the smut warnings carefully.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧ *:・゚✧*:・゚✧ *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
smut warnings ↠ this gets kinda spicy lmao. includes f-receiving fingering, a blowjob, protected sex, multiple orgasms, hair pulling, tom with a dick piercing, implied pain kink, sir kink, praise kink, degradation kink (ft a few instances of slut shaming), dom!tom !!! 
✧ *:・゚Inked・゚:*✧
The waiting room smells of sharp citrus cleaning products. As your foot bounces over the speckled tiles, you stare across the room at the clock that refuses to move. It’s ticking, you can hear the robotic click of the pendant, yet the hands lay frozen in place. It’s unnerving, and it does little to calm your racing heart.
With clammy hands, you decide to fall back on your phone for distraction. You skim through your Twitter feed for a few moments, gaze disengaged from the blur of photos and words that only seem to taunt your inability to focus, only to find reprieve as a banner slips across the top of your screen. It’s so reflexive to allow your thumb to tap the notification that you can’t stop yourself from opening it, only suffer the consequences and tut your tongue as you realise it’s delivered a read receipt to the sender.
Matthias: it’s not too late to back out… I just think you’re making a huge mistake Y/N Matthias: I don’t want to be mean, but you aren’t the type of person who can pull that off Matthias: just forget about it and come over. Matthias: think about your future. what are people going to think if you have it so visible like that? what about jobs?
Then, the most recent message, bubbling up impatiently:
Matthias: don’t be mad at me for telling you the truth… you said you wanted me to be honest with you???
“Fucking idiot,” you mutter, then turn off your phone.
Hot irritation curls your fingers into fists and draws your lips together into a pout. You shove your arms across your chest as you stare insistently at a patch of peeling wallpaper. The waiting room isn’t particularly glamorous, but perhaps that isn’t out of place. There’s nothing alluring about anything you have planned for today. If you’d wanted high-end, you would’ve shelled out a couple hundred extra pounds. Instead, you’d stormed into the tattoo parlour with one thing on your mind and one thing only: to finally get the tattoo you’ve been dreaming of since you were fifteen.
So what if you were primarily motivated by the spiteful words of your boyfriend, who, for all he boasts about being understanding and compassionate, had spent five minutes ripping into the design you’ve printed to every notebook, piece of paper, and whiteboard you’ve encountered since you were a teenager..? Matthias is a fairly new addition to your life, and he proves himself to be a bad fit with your lifestyle every day. He wears polo shirts and is currently studying for a politics degree. You’d met him at your university’s mini-golf event, where you’d attended to take the piss and have a good time whilst he’d gone with the sole intention of winning. Perhaps agreeing to go out for drinks with him afterwards had been the first step down a very wrong path.
Maybe it’s a bad sign that you’ve responded with so much volatility to a few of his scathing words. You are completely aware that the entire ordeal is a sign that you need to re-examine the people you let into your life. But the tattoo you’re getting printed to your forearm is something that means an incredible amount to you, and part of you—a very small, self-destructive part—is grateful to Matthias for appealing to your spiteful side and pushing you to finally get it inked.
A door at the end of the corridor squeaks open.
“Uh… Y/N Y/L/N?”
An incredibly handsome man steps onto the sterile floor. Your mouth almost runs dry.
With a pencil tucked behind his chestnut curls, the man boasts the warmest brown eyes you’ve ever seen in your life. A tight black t-shirt clutches at his shoulders and arms, giving way to miles of tan skin, adorned with a few deep tattoos too far away to discern. Thin pink lips stretch into an inviting smile as he sees you looking, and he partners the grin with a wave of his hand. Swept around slender digits are a few rings, brushed silver metal complementing the placement of a large tattoo sprawled across his right hand.
“Hi.” You stand quickly, shouldering your bag.
“Hey, Y/N.” A firm London accent twangs in the air. It’s surprisingly warm. “I’m Tom. I’ll be doing your tattoo today.”
The smile that finds your lips is stiff but hopeful. “Hi,” you repeat, and your brain feels foggy.
“My room’s just here if you want to come and make yourself comfortable.”
Your teeth gnaw at your lower lip as you walk towards Tom’s door. There’s a curious glint in his eye, and you feel his gaze staying on you as you walk past him. As your arm brushes his, it’s hard to stave down the thought that he’s both exactly your type whilst being simultaneously the cutest stranger you’ve ever had the pleasure of encountering.
The budding attraction falls flat the moment you cross over into his room. As your eyes take in the sterile workbench, leather seat, and tray of ominous-looking needles, the only emotion to consume you is pure, unadulterated fear. It has your hands wringing together as you try to get a hold of the cool dread pooling in the pit of your stomach.
“Take a seat on that chair up there, please, Y/N.”
It makes a small squeaking sound as you settle into it.
“Do you have your design with you?”
“Yeah! Uh… Here you go.”
Tom sits on a small spinning stool at the side of your chair. His elbow comes to rest on the silver table between you as eager eyes skim over the pencil sketch.
“Wow,” he murmurs, briefly glancing up at you. His tongue slips across his lower lip. For the first time, you notice the piercing in his eyebrow, silver barbells plumped on either side of the ragged hairs. “This is good. Are you an artist?”
A laugh leaves your lips. “I’m an art student,” you tell him. “Still studying, but, yeah. One day, I’d like to be an artist.”
He tilts his head to the side. Rich brown curls tumble through the air, tamed only by a glittering hand, marked equally silver and black.
“Well, I think that you’re very talented,” he decides. After grabbing the pencil hanging behind his ear, he begins to sketch across his own pad of paper. “I am also a student,” he tells you, speaking in low, rich tones that do better at calming you than the breathing exercises you’re trying to employ. “I study business, though, so that’s hardly as interesting as art.”
“Business,” you repeat, trying unsuccessfully to marry his image with the archetype of a suited and booted businessman. “Why that?”
He shrugs. “Well, I want my own parlour, one day,” he explains. “I’d like to make a name for myself, in a shop I can call my own.” A boyish smile finds his lips as he gestures around at the small room you’re trapped in together. “And, no disrespect to the owners here, but this place has seen better days.”
“Mhm.” He finishes a few lines of his drawing. “Don’t worry though, Y/N. You are in some very safe hands. Not to brag, but I am exceptionally good at my job.” Tom picks up his sketchpad and turns it towards you. “What do you think?”
Printed to his stencil paper is a perfect redraw of the design you’ve been dreaming of. The love heart, imbued with small artistic twists and twirls, looks beautiful knocked out in light pencil, and it’s clear from the drawing alone that Tom is far more talented than you’d expected. You find yourself looking at him with faith shining in your eyes.
“Oh… Wow,” you murmur. “That’s perfect! I love it.”
The smile on his face flexes between flattered and cocky.
“If you want, I can change any details. This is your tattoo, after all. I know some tattoo artists are a little, uh… Firm, when it comes to walk-ins, but I don’t mind altering things if they aren’t perfect for you.” He scrunches the tip of his nose as his eyes briefly look across you. “I’m sure you know that, though. You seem like someone who’s had a few pieces inked before.”
It’s easy to shake your head. “I love it exactly like you’ve done it,” you inform, then, just a little shyer, “no, though. I’ve never had a tattoo before.”
“What, really?” Incredulity feeds his tone.
“No way,” he says, laughing deeply. He shakes his head, eyes narrowing with respect. “I didn’t take you for a virgin.”
Tom then turns back to fiddle with something on the workbench, oblivious to how his words have your eyes bulging. “Wh-what?”
He glances back at you, understanding dawning over his face as he takes in your flabbergasted expression. “An ink virgin, darling,” he adds, and the muted smirk returns, “no tattoos.” His eyes squeeze into an apologetic smile. “Sorry, that… That’s fairly strange without context.”
“Oh.” You settle back in the chair. A smile breaks over your face. “That’s funny.”
Tom’s eyes sparkle as he smiles. He gestures loosely at your form, then back to his stencil. “Where do you want this?”
“My forearm… Just here.”
After meticulously pulling off each one of his rings, Tom sheaths his hands into a pair of thick black gloves. Tight latex grips at his skin, and though your eyes try to discern the designs of the tattoos fixed to his hand, he moves too quickly for you to make out much. You find yourself wondering how many other tattoos he has tucked away beneath his clothes, but that thought is overshadowed when he scoots closer, positions the stencil over your forearm, and rests there for a few moments as the sketch prints over to your skin.
“Okay,” he murmurs as he pulls the paper away from your arm, “this is probably going to take about an hour. Do you have any questions before we get started?”
You blink a few times. He’s sitting very near to you. Dizzyingly so. You can smell the weak musk of his cologne.
“How bad is it gonna hurt?”
Tom chuckles. “Uh… That will depend on your pain threshold,” he says. He runs the pad of his index across the top of your arm, warm and smooth. “This is a good place to get inked,” he adds, “it shouldn’t be too bad. If you need a break at any point, just let me know, though, okay? We can go as slow as you need, darling. It’s your comfort first.”
“Okay.” You glance down at your arm, then back to him. He’s looking at you intently, offering up an easy smile when you seek out the warmth of his eyes. “I’m ready.”
Tom grins. “Thatta girl,” he coos, and you struggle to stay still. Smoothly, he spins back on the stool and collects the ink gun.
It’s surprising how easy it is to open up a dialogue whilst getting tattooed. It’s impossible to tell if Tom feeds into your babbling because he can tell you’re panicked or if he’s just genuinely a nice guy, but either way, you find yourself relaxing to the soothing timbre of his voice. He details his dream life as he works: his tattoo parlour, which he wants to set up in Camden and run with his brothers. He boasts about living by the local park and splitting his time between the shop and family, then, when prompted, spends a few moments listing off his closest friends and family members. The way he outlines everything makes you think he either has it all mapped out, or it’s fairly frequently he’s begged for distraction from his clients, but regardless, you appreciate it.
Eventually, you loosen up, and then he tilts the conversation to you.
“So,” he says, the air momentarily still as he wipes across your arm. Your skin stings, but the pain is tolerable, “why now? This tattoo is beautiful, but what made you choose today?”
A harsh laugh slips out, gaining a raised pierced brow from the artist. From talking with him for so long, you feel open enough to be honest.
“My boyfriend told me I shouldn’t get it done,” you admit, immediately attracting his attention, “so… I came out and got it done immediately.”
Tom chuckles. “Why didn’t he want you to get it?”
“Uh… He’s a pretty strict guy. Politics major. Has some, uh, conservative beliefs that I hadn’t been aware of until today.” You try to drum up what little loyalty remains. “He’s a nice guy, but tattoos aren’t really his thing.”
“Sounds like a pretty crap boyfriend to me, love,” Tom scoffs. His piercing eyes stare at your arm. Then, almost as an after-thought, “sounds like the type of guy who couldn’t make someone cum, either.”
A short laugh slips through your lips. “He, uh… Could be a better guy.”
Knowing eyes sweep up to your face. Tom’s tongue slips across his lower lip, and as he intensifies the eye contact, you realise you’d no longer categorise him as a stranger. He feels more like a friend. “Well, I hate to insert my opinion when it’s unwanted, but I think you should dump him.” He returns to the tattoo. “Whilst you’re at it, you can tell him that I guarantee I will be more successful than him in life, with tattoos and piercings. And that is a bloody promise.”
A small laugh falls through your lips. “I’ll pass it on.”
He looks up at you, a wry smile on his face. “Good,” he murmurs, and he brushes his index finger along your lower arm, “you deserve someone exceptional, Y/N. Don’t settle for less.”
A comfortable silence fills the rest of your appointment. When Tom’s finished, he takes a few photos to post on Instagram before wrapping your tattoo. It looks incredible sitting against your skin, and the high you feel as you glance down and see the pattern clinging to your body makes your heart thrum with pride.
After tipping him generously, Tom escorts you to the door. His hand steadies your lower back.
“Well,” he says, resignation in his tone, “this is where our time comes to an end.”
A sad smile finds your lips. “Thank you for everything,” you say.
“Any time, love.” Tom leans up against the doorframe, crossing toned biceps across his chest. His tan skin looks delicious adorned with sprawling tattoos. You still itch to uncover what each one depicts, even if it’s neither time nor place. When your curious eyes stretch towards his face, it’s to the sight of a teasing smile on his lips. “If you ever need anything else done, I’m your guy.”
You nod. “Absolutely,” you say. You tug your bag further up your acheless arm. “Have a good night.”
Tom’s smile seems so easy. So soft. So unassuming. “Take care, darling.”
Against the desire dwelling in your heart, you turn and leave. You feel eyes on your back, following you until you leave the door with the jangle of the bell.
*:·゚✧*:·゚✧ *:·゚✧*:·゚✧ *:·゚✧*:·゚✧
Maybe it shouldn’t be surprising that you fail to see Tom again. You’d never met him before, so the disappointment you feel every time you walk across campus and don’t see him shouldn’t hollow out your chest as deeply as it does, yet… It does. You can’t seem to shake the image of your tattoo artist and his blinding smile, can’t stop your mind replaying his words in that silky brushed voice he steered so effortlessly. It doesn’t help that every time you look at your new tattoo or show it off to someone new, you’re reminded of the soft touch of his hands over your skin. You ache for him, in a way that’s bizarrely intimate given you’ve only stumbled across him once, but in a way you allow to persist.
Amidst his absence, you decide to dump your boyfriend. It just comes down to a matter of where and when.
The decision is fairly easy, in the end. After a few discussions with your friends, you come to a painless conclusion: he is not the one for you, and you’re better off without him. If your roaming eyes weren’t indication enough, Matthias’ attitude is the nail in the coffin. He refuses to see you for days following your admission that you’d got your tattoo, supplying nothing but stiff texts to what could be a broken heart.
In the end, the opportunity to break up with him presents itself organically. A friend from your psych class invites you to a party, and you agree to meet Matthias there. After a solid week of little to no communication, the air seems to crackle with tension as you arrive. The gathering is held in an abandoned warehouse on the edge of town, with strobe lights painting the concrete pillars shades of green and blue. After allowing a few shots to warm the back of your throat, you delve into the thick of it and seek out your boyfriend.
You find Matthias on the dancefloor, surrounded by a group of friends. When he sees you, his eyes immediately zero in on your tattoo, his green orbs flying beneath narrowed eyelids. He begrudgingly excuses himself from his peers and makes his way towards you, greeting you with nothing but a sloppy kiss on the cheek.
“Hi,” you say, and you reach down for his hand. Easily, you move him through the crowd, going in search of some fresh air. He trails behind you until you’ve reached the back plot, covered in grass dotted with evening mizzle.
“Hi, Y/N.”
The silence between you is uncomfortable. You sit on the edge of the grass, and Matthias drops to the space beside you.
“So…” he murmurs.
“So.” And you sit a little straighter. “I think we should call things off.”
He blinks at the dewy grass before looking at you, hurt spearing his expression. “Why?”
“I’m not feeling it,” you admit. “I don’t think we’re a good match.”
His sigh is audible. “But… Why?” Irritation furrows his brows. “Is this about your tattoo?” he spews and then levels a glare at your arm. Your fingers drift to that artwork on your skin.
“It’s not— it’s not just about the tattoo,” you sigh. “You don’t have to like it. It’s all personal preference.” He opens his mouth to complain, only for you to continue, roughly, “it’s about the reaction to the tattoo. It makes me wonder how you’d react in the future if we had a disagreement over something you saw as being beneath you.”
“I don’t view tattoos as being beneath me—”
“But you’d rather I don’t have one? For ‘appearance's sake’?” You scoff. “It’s okay. You don’t need to defend it. I’ve made my decision, Matt. You deserve someone who fits your mould, and I’m better with someone who actually supports me.”
“Jesus Christ,” he mutters. He stands from the curb and glowers at you. “Fine. Fuck you, Y/N.”
Despite his scowl, you find yourself feeling lighter as he walks off. Your guilt immediately fades when you reach out and let your fingertips make contact with the fresh lushness of the grass. Chilly water droplets roll across your hands, and you know it’s the right decision. If your own relief isn’t indication enough, his reluctance to push against the decision betrays his own emotions, too.
You’re unsure how long you spend outside, settled on the edge of the grass. It draws to an end only when a stocky figure drops down to sit beside you. The clicking of a lighter fills the air, followed by the flickering of a flame.
“You want a ciggy?”
Like a moth to a flame, you find yourself tilting your face towards the familiar voice. Wordlessly, you shake your head, then let your cheek settle on your knees, pulled taut to your chest. With a hand cupped close to his lips and an amber flame dancing in the air, the figure beside you is unmistakable.
“Tom,” you say finally, surprise evident in your tone. “What are you doing here?”
The tattoo artist shrugs. He’s wrapped in a pair of black skinny jeans and a leather jacket. With a glowing cigarette hanging between his fingers, he looks a little like an angel, doused in shadows of silver.
“One of my guys is hosting it,” he explains. “All my friends are here, so I came, too.” He nudges your shoulder as his legs stretch out across the grass in front of you. “You good? I saw you out here, looking glum. What’s going on…?”
You release a short breath. His eyes seem to sparkle beneath the moon. “I just dumped my boyfriend,” you admit, and you have to laugh. “I’m… Good. Really good. I feel great, honestly. I’m just… processing it, I guess.”
Tom chuckles. “Wow,” he murmurs. He puffs a cloud of smoke into the air before letting the cigarette fall back, both of his palms pressing flat against the pavement behind him. His lips shift into an expression of intrigue. “Congratulations, I suppose.”
Your scoff plumps the air, and you let your neck stretch to the side. A gentle breeze laps up against your face, and it’s only as a coolness licks against your skin that you notice the heat of your pounding pulse.
“Thanks,” you mutter. You nudge him. “‘S your fault, I guess.”
“You said I needed someone better. You were right.”
“I usually am.”
You laugh. “Cocky, too?”
“A little bit. Can you blame me?”
The air ripples with tension. It’s heavy and electric, and it threatens to choke you.
“I didn’t think I’d see you again,” you admit. It’s easy to talk now you’re alone, nothing but the moon above you. You don’t even need to look at him. Your eyes stay trained on blades of grass bent sideways over the lawn from the weight of glistening stardew. “I didn’t think you hung out around here.”
“Are you glad to see me?”
The sight of his ebon eyes framed by curly hair and that eyebrow piercing makes you shudder. He is looking at you. He looks right through you.
“Yes,” you admit. “You’ve been on my mind.”
“As have you, with me.” Tom sits up a little straighter, eyes flickering with curiosity. “How has your tattoo healed? Can I see it?”
You offer him your arm, and Tom accepts it into warm hands. You shiver as he draws his thumb across your upper arm, skimming lightly around the parameters of the design as he inspects it. The small circles he rubs to your skin are so softly tender that it makes you shift a little closer to him, chasing after the warmth his body emits.
“It feels good,” you admit. “I love it. It turned out really well.”
Blinding pearly whites greet you. “Thanks, darling.” Tom releases your arm with a short pat, then passes you back your limb. His warm palm lingers on your bare knee for a second before moving away.
“What are your tattoos?” you finally ask.
His smile widens. “I have a few,” he begins, speaking slowly. “There’s this one along my hand. It goes all the way up my arm. Here— let me take off my jacket.” He pauses for just a moment before humming contemplatively. “Actually… Would you like to go inside? It’s a little cold out here.”
When Tom lands on his feet, he offers you his arm. The thick rims of his rings sink against your fingers as you slink your hand against his, warm palm against warm palm. Safely tucked against his side, you wander through the lower floor of the warehouse together, dodging partygoers and drunks until you reach a bathroom. The journey is painless; Tom easily brushes past people taller than him, wearing a thin-lipped expression that has the crowd parting like the tide.
In barely any time, you’re alone in a well-lit bathroom. It’s all too easy to sit on the counter and let your legs slip apart, providing him with ample space to step between them. It’s an action Tom completes seamlessly, and he finishes it by letting his hands rest on the rise of your knees. Calloused fingertips have never felt so nice brushing your soft skin, dipping just beneath the hem of your skirt. He firms the touch of his thumbs when something of a smirk wraps around your lips.
“So… I have a lot of tattoos,” he begins. Finally, he moves away from you to gesture at himself. “I have these on my hand. They spread up my arm, too.”
The way he pulls off his leather jacket has you gulping. The harsh lighting of the bathroom draws the golden tones of his skin to the surface, extenuating the strength of his biceps as he points at his inkwork.
“Wow,” you murmur.
His arm truly is a sight to behold. Strength aside, Tom has a tattoo snaking the entire length of the limb, coasting over pale skin. It tickles his knuckles and hand in tender ink before sparking up his forearm to his bicep. Disappearing only beneath the hem of his t-shirt, it sprawls across his chest for god knows how long. The pattern is delicate; not a full sleeve, rather a story, punctuated in small designs of swirls and flowers and people. Each scratch seems deliberate.
“It took… months,” he mutters. “It goes all the way over my back.” Tom graces you with a raised brow. “I won’t take my shirt off, but take my word for it, darling.”
You shift tentatively on the counter. The way he looks at you is so visceral, so intense. It makes you feel like a sheet of plastic, wobbling at the smallest hint of pressure.
“Okay,” you gulp. “Have you got any other piercings?”
Tom scoffs. He steps a little closer, lets his hands wrap around your waist as you sit a little stranger. “Yeah,” he admits, “they’re a secret, though.”
Intrigue furrows your brows. “Oh?”
“Oh,” he confirms. Warm fingertips tickle your waist. “My deepest, darkest secret, angel.”
You reach up. It’s so easy to loop your hands around his neck, to let graceful fingertips brush across the curls of his unruly hair. Tight curls coil around your digits, silky smooth and strawberry-scented. It’s all too easy to coax him closer, letting your thighs loll to the side as he slots himself between your legs again. Any doubts that your advances are one-sided are placated as he looks up at you with a blissful expression on his face, the thin curves of his lips poised in a cherry-red smirk.
“Hi,” you say, just because it’s so surprising to feel him as close as he is. It doesn’t matter how often you’d found your thoughts circling back to Tom: you’d never truly expected to have an encounter like this with him. Electricity jolts down your spine as he reaches up to press two very warm palms to your shoulders before letting a few of his nimble fingers stroke across the back of your neck. His fingers are equal parts hot and cold metal as he toys with your blistering flesh.
“Hi.” He looks up at you, eyes dark. His gaze coasts along you, ebon and rich. “Have I ever told you how stunning I think you are, Y/N?”
It’s hard to keep your voice strong. “No, I don’t think you have.”
Tom hums. One of his hands leaves your neck and instead curls around your waist. “Well,” he husks, and his tone is low, “I think you’re beautiful. I did, back when we first met, too, and I… I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since.”
Relief crashes over you. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, either,” you admit.
He tilts his head to the side, shrewdness colouring his expression. “Yeah?”
“What are you going to do about that, then, darling?”
He teases you. He coaxes your heart to the very edge of your being, then taunts you further. In his eyes, you see the promise of a thousand years, unbalanced and treacherous but true. There’s playfulness and mischievousness, lust and desire.
You want to dive straight into him.
You do.
When you kiss him, it’s without abandon and fuelled by recklessness. In sync, he meets you in the middle, his tongue licking across the seam of your pursed lips until they part. As his hot tongue slips into your mouth, your moan of relieved surprise fills the air. It feels calamitous, like lighting a match and dropping it just beside a pool of gasoline or cuffing yourself to a bomb before throwing away the key. Beneath your fingertips, it’s nothing but heat, drilling through your touch and heading straight towards your centre.
So overwhelmed, you almost slip off the counter, only for him to push you back in place and kiss you deeper.
It goes on until your mouth loses feeling, until you feel your body melt into a warm puddle of boneless desire. He is the one to pull back.
“As much as I wish this could go further,” Tom whispers, and his voice gravels around his lower register, “I’d feel bad. You’ve only just broken up with your boyfriend.”
It takes all you have to keep back a roll of your eyes. “It’s fine,” you say, tugging at his shoulders convincingly, “don’t worry about it. I know what I want.”
“Do you?”
You hesitate, just for a moment’s notice. It’s long enough for him to see, but you still stammer out a breathless, “I do..?”
Conflict spirals across his face. Tom looks at your lips, then kisses you again, very gently. He pulls back a moment later, hands leaving your hips open and cooling. He pecks at your pout until it fades.
“I can’t,” he says, speaking very slowly. “I trust you, Y/N, I promise, I just… Don’t want you to make any bad decisions tonight. I’m so sorry.”
And it hurts. It bristles in a way that’s irritating, like scratching the spot beside an itch or placing something down just short of the mark, but you can’t fault him for it. His hesitation is a sign of respect, and it elevates him in your eyes despite your desire for more.
“Okay,” you sigh. You sag slightly, shoulders folding in on yourself as you slump over the counter. “I get it.”
Tom reaches for your palm. Rough lips nip across your knuckles. “It isn’t a never. It’s just a… not now.” Careful eyes meet with yours. “I like you a lot, babe. I think you are so beautiful. Please… Come round the shop in a couple days when you’re sober and you’ve processed it all. We can talk about this. Here— I can even give you my number.”
The exchange of contact details is painless. He even kisses the rise of your knuckles again as he returns your phone. You stare down at the contact labelled ‘Tom Tattoo Man’ until you smile.
“Thank you,” you whisper, and you meet his eyes with a clear gaze. “You’re a nice guy, Tom. A really nice guy. I appreciate it.”
He tilts his head to the side. Light pours across the curve of his neck, glancing off the top of his tattoos and highlighting his eyebrow piercing.
“It’s the least I can do to ensure you’re happy, Y/N,” he murmurs. He steps back from you, then approaches the bathroom door. “C’mon,” he coaxes, “let’s go.”
“Hey—” You slip from the counter and bounce towards him. “A final kiss? Please?”
Tom chuckles, but he doesn’t hesitate to lean closer and knock your lips together. It isn’t as passionate as the earlier unions of your lips, but it’s present enough to make you whimper, hard enough for you to feel it. You hope it bruises. You want to wake in the morning to an ache that’s undeniably his. As you pull away to blink up at the warmth in his eyes, you come to the soft realisation that you’d wear his marks anywhere he’d be willing to leave them: your lips, your neck, your heart.
“Pretty girl,” he coos, then he takes your hand. His other arm reaches for the door. “C’mon. Let’s go find your friends.”
*:·゚✧*:·゚✧ *:·゚✧*:·゚✧ *:·゚✧*:·゚✧
It comes as no surprise when you find yourself at the parlour a few days later. All you have to do is shoot off a text, and you’re being ushered through to the back by the receptionist. Deep eyes track your every movement as you close the door behind you, sealing yourself into the tattoo artist’s room.
“Hi,” Tom greets, and the single syllable makes your heart quicken. He raises his hand and leans against the counters, smiling easily.
“You want to take a seat?”
There’s a distance between you, breached only when Tom walks closer to you. He ruffles his hair as if to dissipate some of the tension before looking down at you. “So,” he starts, “to what do I owe the honour of having you back in my room, eh?”
A smile laps against your mouth. “Well, like I said in my text, I want another tattoo.”
Tom crosses his arms. “Oh, really?” A proud smirk finds his face. “And I’m supposed to believe that wasn’t just an excuse to come and see me again?”
“Wow,” you tease, “what an ego. No, for the record. I do genuinely want another tattoo.” When you see his cheeks darken, you feel nice enough to add, “however… I also quite liked the idea of seeing you again. So… perhaps it was a win-win situation.”
“Huh.” His tongue skims his lower lip. “What do you want doing?”
You point at your lap. “Thigh,” you state, then very carefully roll up the hem of your skirt to prod more directly at a patch of skin mid-way up your leg. “I’d like a tree.”
“A tree on your thigh,” he repeats. “How large?” You make a rough approximation with your hands until he hums. “Alright. I think I can do that for you.”
Feeling better, you settle back in the chair, stretching your legs out across the worn leather. The material is slightly sticky beneath your skin. You’d chosen a skirt very deliberately, and though you’re sure it’ll come in handy later, you find yourself shifting uncomfortably from side to side.
“Are you okay?” Tom calls out from where he’s fiddling with the ink gun, eyebrows drawn together.
“Yeah,” you say, trying to lessen the squirming. “This chair is just…”
You pull a face. “A bit. No offence.”
Tom places the gun down. “None taken. It’s not my chair.” He shrugs off his black denim jacket and passes it to you. “Sit on that,” he offers.
The tender display of affection delays your movements, but after a second of him just staring at you, you chuckle and reposition the jacket. It doesn’t block the entire length of your legs, but it feels a hell of a lot better than it had. The fact that it’s warm and smells of spiced gingerbread helps ease you.
“Right…” Tom wanders near again, an antiseptic wipe in his hand, “show me exactly where you want it…”
The process repeats as it had the first time. You show him a sketch for the design, he recreates it, then he prints an outlined copy to your leg. He’s just a little closer than before this time, leaning nearer, his laughs slightly freer. The good energy continues even as he starts to tattoo you, rippling over the pain and easing all angst with his smiles and his words. You don’t talk about anything groundbreaking, mostly just fill in the gaps between the party and now, but it’s undeniably nice to spend so much time so close to him.
He pulls away after about half an hour. The expression on his face makes you pause.
“Do you want to do a bit?”
“Of the tattoo?”
Tom smiles as he takes in your expression. “If you want,” he clarifies. “You have an artistic hand, Y/N. Why not give it a go?”
“But what if I mess it up?”
“Then, I suppose you’d have a fucked-up tattoo stuck on your skin for the rest of your life.” Deviousness licks around his features. “But…” he says, and he passes you the gun, “I don’t think that’ll be the case.”
You stare at the device resting heavily in your palm. It feels like responsibility and commitment. You grip it a little tighter.
“Okay,” you find yourself saying. A smile breaks across your face when Tom releases a short whoop. “How do I use this thing?”
He walks you through it very slowly before you select a branch of the tree to sketch. It isn’t too long, nor too complicated, so unless you intend on passing out halfway through, you’re fairly confident you should be able to do a good job.
“You just… follow the line,” Tom instructs, and he demonstrates the process on the other side of the tree. With your lower lip tucked between your aching teeth, you watch him ink your skin. “Just like that.”
“Just like that,” you repeat. It takes a few moments for you to muster up enough courage to actually start. You glance back at Tom as your fingers flex around the gun. “Help me?” you ask.
He reads you like your soul is an open book, and he’s flicking through the pages: seamlessly, comprehensively. Tom reaches out and places a large hand over the top of yours, and, together, you start to guide the needle. Your fingers don’t shake with his touch so close, though it certainly feels strange to tattoo yourself. It still hurts, and now the pain is accompanied by the fear that you’ll do a terrible job, but in a way, it’s also relaxing. To see the design you’d spent days altering and redrawing spanning out across your skin and knowing that you had an active role in its creation is incredibly fulfilling. You find yourself understanding why Tom holds the job that he does.
“There we go,” he encourages. “Good job, darling… Good girl.”
The breath catches at the back of your throat. You focus intently on your movements as you feel an amused smirk being levelled towards you. Tom chuckles. “Shut up,” you mutter.
“That is… interesting,” he mumbles. You have no doubts that if the situation were less heavy, he’d take the chance to taunt you further. Instead, he adds only, lasciviously, “you’re doing a wonderful job, babe. You are so good at this. What a talented girl.”
It burns in more places than one. You push it down, promising to return to the heat in your lower stomach before you settle further into the task at hand.
After a little while, Tom leans closer, inquisitive eyes scoping out the site of your budding tattoo. His warmth seeps across you like a churning waterfall, clogging up the cavity in your chest and overflowing into every part of you, his attention tickling even the very tips of your fingers. You have to lift the needle away from your skin just from the dizzying proximity, not wanting to fall too deeply into his presence and mess up the tattoo. As soon as the gun stops humming, he looks up at you, blinking inquisitively.
“You good?” he checks.
You nod. Moving distantly, you put the device onto the tray. He stays in place, tracking your mood effortlessly. When your gaze shifts down to his lips before returning to his eyes, you find his expression full of knowing.
A silver chain hangs around his neck, and it’s all too easy to reach up for it, meet his expectant smirk head-on, and tug him closer. Warm lips slot against yours, and it’s just as good as you remembered. If the way Tom inhales before pushing back against you with more force is any indication, he shares your sentiments.
“Love,” he mumbles, the word muffled against your lips, “I should finish this before we get carried away.”
And though it bothers you, you know he’s probably right. With a begrudging sigh, you pull away and settle against the chair.
“Not that I didn’t enjoy that,” he adds. His tongue seems especially pink contrasting the deep flush of his lips. “Maybe we can continue this once we’re done.”
You shoot off a coy smile. “Maybe.”
The rest of the tattoo blurs together, nothing but an amalgamation of discomfort eased by conversation. The final product is as beautiful as ever, yet you find yourself wanting to focus on something else entirely. Tom’s barely got the plastic wrap fixed to the piece before you’re curling your hands around his neck and tugging him in again.
The kisses are eager, pulsing with want and burning desire. When you carefully part your legs and he steps between them, things are quick to heat up, escalating in wet, sloppy-mouthed kisses until his tongue swirls with yours and his hands raise to your chest. Tom caresses your back until you shuffle around, and he takes the hint to move them to your front.
All it takes is a few light touches of your breasts to have you squeaking into his mouth. You arch closer to the cups of his warm palms, soft whimpers sliding out of your mouth as his thumbs toy with the strain of your covered nipples. It’s just a little bit pathetic how desperately you push yourself closer, trying to chase the small sparks of pleasure, and Tom seems to notice. His smirk is obvious as it twines around his lips, interrupting your kiss.
“Do you remember when I said your boyfriend sounded like he couldn’t make you cum?”
Warm breath fans across your lips, minty and consoling. “Was I right?”
Your breath hitches. Embarrassment tickles your cheeks, and you lapse into silence.
“You can tell me, darling,” Tom pleads. “It’s a reflection of him, not you.”
“Yeah,” you mutter dejectedly. It’s difficult to hold his gaze. “You were right.”
His lips curl into a soft pout. “Oh, no,” he whispers. His lips curl into a small smile. “That’s disappointing.”
You whimper when he rolls a hand between your legs. Warm fingers push up against your panties, immediately seeking out the warm plush of your cunt. “Tom,” you whine, “please don’t tease me.”
A very gentle kiss pushes itself against your lips. He licks across your lower lip, then whispers, “darling… Don’t be embarrassed. I’ll help you. Of course, I’ll help you. I know just what you need.”
Pleasure spirals out from your centre as he begins to draw his fingers across the front of your panties. You whimper as heat floods to your entrance. It doesn’t help that the material sticking to your front is thin silk, allowing every small ministration to seep through the fabric.
“Tom, please… Don’t tease me.”
It has been a while, truly. You can’t remember the last time you got off in a way that was meaningful. Usually, you’d roll off Matthias and have to finish yourself off in the bathroom. It was never as rewarding having to coax yourself to a high. Luckily for you, it doesn’t seem like that’ll be an issue today.
Tom tucks his fingers beneath your panties, cursing loudly as he dips tattooed fingers down to your entrance. As he spreads your sticky wetness across the front of your cunt, your clit rebels gloriously against the touch, pulsing softly as you whimper.
“Pretty,” he murmurs, “your cunt feels so pretty, angel. What are you hiding from me under here?”
Your breath hitches. “You can see for yourself if you want.”
Tom presses a kiss to your jaw before lowering himself to his knees. He looks downright sinful between your thighs, especially when he pulls you to the edge of the seat and parts your legs. He guides one leg over each one of his broad shoulders, being incredibly delicate when it comes to your sore thigh. With his lips spit-slick and inflamed, the rosy-hued pillows coast along your inner thigh, gradually approaching your centre.
Thin fingers finally push your panties to the side, exposing your slit entirely.
“Shit,” he mutters. Two fingers stroke through your core, dipping briefly into your cunt before retracting to pull across your clit. “You’re so hot down here, darling… What do you want?”
And he strokes, so tenderly, so gently, right across the crest of your quivering bud. It’s enough to have you moaning.
“Touch me,” you whimper.
A cocky eyebrow slants upwards. “But I am, babe? What else could you want?”
Your heart rate stammers. It makes your legs feel weak, your entire lower half feeling hot against the leather chair. His fingers are insistent, poised, especially when they leave your clit and return to circling the hot rim of your cunt. He blinks up at you innocently before sheathing them both inside your heat, curling slender, tattooed fingers up against your upper wall and stroking until you’re tearing up.
“Tom,” you cry out, craning your neck back. “P-Please… Let me cum. Make me cum.”
He hums. “Oh, baby wants to cum?”
You whine. He crooks his fingertips up against your g-spot before adding a thumb to your clit. “Please,” you stammer out. “I need it so bad.”
“And what will you do for me if I give you what you want?”
Against everything in you, you manage to open your eyes. Panting, your words split around your heavy breaths. “I’ll do anything,” you decide. “Anything you want. Just… Please, Tom. Please, sir.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “Sir,” he repeats, scoffing incredulously. “Shit, you are desperate, aren’t you? Rutting against my hand like a needy bitch…” He pauses, eyes on you, watching the expression of unadulterated lust that builds on your face at the words. “A degradation kink and a praise kink?”
You nod. “Y-yeah…”
“Oh, I’m going to have fun with this.” Tom licks his lips before looking back between your legs. He rubs your bud just a little firmer, and you cry out loudly as your cunt sucks his fingers further into you. He clicks his tongue, and the noise is almost lost in the wet sounds of your hole clenching around him. “So fuckin’ needy, baby. But that’s okay. You look so hot up there, grinding against my hand so desperately. You can cum. That’s okay. Let go for me, but just know we aren’t done yet… C’mon, darling.”
Your legs shake. A loud whine warbles up your throat as you spill, your walls clenching around the persistent stroke of his fingers as you emit a few loud moans. He watches you with wonder in his eyes as you skitter into climax, and being placed at the very centre of his attention prolongs the pleasure that ripples across you like a firestorm.
Finally released from the tension that’s plagued you for weeks, you sigh loudly as you sit back on your hands.
“Shit,” you mutter, your brain a little foggy. Tom pulls his hand away, and you feel your entrance clench emptily around nothing. The pang has you gasping very quietly. “Thank you.”
Tom smiles. Some of the heat has dissipated from his expression, but hunger still wraps around his features. “Care to return the favour?”
“Of course.”
Already, you’re standing up from the chair. You reach down and fix your panties before moving further into the room. There’s a line of industrial metal counters pushed up against the far wall, and Tom rests with his back against them, coaxing you over.
“What do you want me to do?” you ask, chewing on your lower lip as he wraps his hands around your waist.
Tom wears a cocky expression. “Well… I have something I should probably tell you before we continue.”
He hums. A hard hand cups your jaw, and you find yourself trapped in a searing kiss. When he falls away, a thin trail of spit connects you together, breaking only when he starts to speak.
“You know how I told you I have more than just this eyebrow piercing?”
You blink. “Yeah?”
Tom guides your hand to his crotch, and you almost whimper at the sensation of his bulge. His expression builds as he murmurs, “I have a dick piercing.”
Intrigue pricks the surface of your skin. “...What?”
Tom chuckles. “It’s called an ampallang piercing,” he explains. “It, uh… Well, I can show you, actually. If you’d like.” Then, pausing as he grows increasingly serious, “there is absolutely no pressure to do anything further, darling. It isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, per se. Please don’t feel pressured or anything like that.”
You kiss him. “Show me, please.”
His fingers release his belt. After a few moments of shuffling out of the tight black jeans that hold his thighs in place, Tom kicks himself free. His boxers are the next to go, and the moment they’ve been kicked aside, your eyes zero in on the magnificent sight between his legs.
“Holy shit.”
The mere sight makes you salivate.
Tucked across the lower curve of his cock is a long, silver barbell, the round ends buried on either side of the red crown of his tip. Fully hard, the metal strains against his head, ripe and full, glistening in the low light of the room. The piercing spears his tip in a way that looks purposeful, buried in fleshy skin and standing proud. Metal glints and you feel the innate desire to close your lips around it and let your tongue flick around the barbells.
“What do you think?” Tom coos, his hand moving to the back of your head. With the ease of a manoeuvre well-practised, he pushes you to your knees. Your thigh flexes, and it hurts in a way that’s tender, but it’s manageable. The ache of the cold studio floor is quickly overshadowed as you drink in the sight of his member.
“Wow,” you mutter. “Didn’t it hurt?”
He hums. “I have a slight penchant for pain, darling.” He pauses to scoff. “It was awful, though. Never, ever again. But, I have to say, it has been worth the trouble.”
You swallow. “That’s so hot.”
You look up at him. From the floor, he soars above you, all tense stomach muscles and strong, tan arms. The sight of him looking down at you makes you bite back a moan.
“So hot, Tom,” you confirm.
“Tom?” He tugs on your hair. “That wasn’t what you were calling me earlier.” And the smirk that snakes across his lips is more than smug. It’s expectant, layered with stacks of want and knowing. “If you want something, you need to ask for it properly, my darling. Oblige yourself.”
It’s hard to formulate words when your throat feels so dry. You can’t stop looking at the pierced tip of his cock. It doesn’t help that the rest of his member is so delightfully full, too. He’s big, even without the piercing. It’d be satisfying enough to take his length alone. You find your eyes almost rolling back as you imagine the drag of the metal against your g-spot.
Pressing down your desire, you blink up at him.
“Please, sir,” you ask, voice breaking desperately, pathetically, “can I suck your cock?”
Tom raises a brow. Thick hands fist your hair, jerking you closer. “Of course you can, darling,” he coos. “I know you’ve been thinking about this for weeks… Let’s see how well you do, hmm? If you do a good job, maybe I’ll reward you.”
Relief flows across you. There’s a warm fuzziness holding fast across the front of your mind, blurry and slick. It has you keening into his touch, shuddering at his pressure. “Thank you, sir,” you whine.
“Of course, baby.” Tom tilts your face towards him. “Can I fuck your throat, darling? Two taps on my thighs, and I’ll stop. Is that okay?”
“Yeah,” you manage.
“Perfect. Good girl. Such a good girl for me. Open your mouth, darling. Let me see how good you are.”
He guides his tip towards your lips, and you pause. As much as you desire to part your lips and take him deep within your mouth, you also recognise that you have a newfound opportunity to indulge yourself. The barbells taunt you. You need your tongue on it.
Leaning in, you envelop his tip within your lips. As your mouth parts around his head, you let your tongue zing across his piercing, moaning to yourself as the taste of bitter metal floods across your tongue.
“I knew it,” he groans from above you, “you make the prettiest sounds. Shit.” You hum around him, and he grunts. “Oh god yeah,” he whimpers. His eyes burn against your skin. “Relax, darling. Let me take what I want.”
When you loosen your jaw and throat, he begins to fuck your mouth roughly. It’s all you can manage to sit and take it, your lips becoming tainted with spit as his impressive length works you open. He’s heavy against your tongue, and the blend of tastes from his precum and piercings has you pushing yourself deeper. Thankfully he’s girthier than he is long, allowing you to take him completely in your mouth to the point where your nose presses up against the curls of his pubes. He gradually becomes rougher, and it takes all you have to stay still and let him use you, let him tug around at your hair and manhandle you until tears pool in your eyes and begin to stream down your cheeks.
“Oh— god,” he whines brokenly. After what could easily be either five or fifty minutes, Tom guides you away from his length. You collapse against your knees as you pant for breath, a trail of spit connecting your lips to the tip of his cock, now strained and flushed an angry red. As he sees the saddened glint in your eyes, he flashes you a knowing smirk. “I’ll blow if you keep that up,” he explains. “Your mouth feels like heaven, darling.”
You run the tip of your tongue around your open mouth. Small traces of precum and metal seep across your taste buds, mixing with the salt of your tears.
“Well…” you drawl and the husk in your voice is scratchy against your ears, “would you like to fuck me instead?”
Tom chuckles. “Of course I bloody do.” He offers you a hand. When you groan at the numb pain in your knees, he bends nearer and kisses the top of your head. Smooth fingertips run along your face, brushing away your drying tears. “Hm… If we stay here,” he says, gesturing to the line of metal countertops pushed against the wall, “we should be able to have some fun without putting any pressure on your leg.”
Your hum echoes through the room. “From behind?”
“If that’s okay with you.”
You lean in to kiss him. Teeth and tongues collide, just for a moment, before you pull away teasingly. “That is definitely okay with me.”
There’s a brief intermission as Tom finds a condom, and you work on pulling your panties off and kicking them aside. You keep your skirt on but roll it up higher, leaving you relatively bare given the thin nature of your top.  
When Tom returns, he leaves a series of sweet kisses along the column of your neck before gently pushing you against the countertop. The edge of it bites against your lower stomach, but you lean into the pain. It fades to only an ache as Tom knocks your legs further apart, and the wide warmth of his cock coasts between your legs. As the cold metal of the table brushes up against your covered tits and the bulbous tip of his length strokes through your slit, your lower lip finds itself enclosed between your gnashing teeth.
“Shit,” Tom mutters, “you’re so hot… G’nna be so tight for me, aren’t you, baby?”
You whimper. You can feel him pulsing, the hot weight of his cock enticing as it slips towards your entrance. The movement is so slick that you realise he’s lubed up his member, and at the promise of a smooth ride, you find your lungs stuttering. “Tom,” you huff against the table, and it’s only a little broken, “please fuck me now.”
He laughs mirthlessly. “Of course, darling.” Hard fingers sear into your sides. “Stay still. Let me show you paradise.”
It isn’t your first time getting fucked, but the way he spreads you open feels new. The round bulge of his tip pushes up against your entrance, and as he begins to bottom out, you feel your walls give way for him in a way that has you moaning. Everything feels sharpened thanks to the press of his piercing against your heat, and as your walls part to sheath him completely, you cry out, voice strained. The condom makes every movement seamless, but the added friction of the barbells crossing his front makes you cry out loudly, added pleasure pouring from each point you connect.
“Pretty, pretty baby,” Tom mutters as he buries a hand in your hair. He tugs you back, your scalp begging for release as he tugs you until you have your neck pulled back against his neck. A twisted hand moves to your front, pushing your shirt up and out of the way before squeezing the round of your breast as he slowly ruts his hips against you. “How does that feel?” he rasps, and sharp teeth nip at your earlobe.
It’s hard to form words. He’s established a steady pace, with your cunt aroused enough to lubricate the entire experience with ease. Your body feels molten, hot with arousal and desire that refuses to die down. All you can do is whine as you collapse against his bare chest, giving into the control of his muscles.
“So good,” you all but whimper. He finally releases you, and you go sprawling across the tabletop. With your chest pressed against the cool metal of the counter, all you can focus on is his length, propelled deeper with every eager thrust.
He’d be big enough to have you in tears even if that was all he had to offer. Yet, Tom has those two barbells set into the swell of his tip, and they feel otherworldly. As they bump and brush against your upper stomach, they elicit the type of reaction you’d never thought your body capable of. The curve of his tip does a good enough job of coasting along your g-spot, and as the piercing catches at every curve and bump of your cunt, it tugs you towards the edge of a climax so sudden and unexpected it has tears pooling in your eyes.
“Shit!” you cry out, preening towards his chest. “T-Tom… That feels so good.”
“Yeah.” You want to cry. “P-Please… Gimme… More.”
“More?” he repeats, incredulity seeping into his voice. He slams his hips against yours with more speed. “I’m already giving you everything I have darling. What else could you possibly want?”
“I— I don’t know—”
He chuckles darkly into your ear before slowing his thrusts. You whimper, but the pleasure doesn’t end. Even moving slowly, Tom’s able to jut his hips against your ass in a way that has your eyes screwing shut.
“You want to cum?” he teases. “After less than a minute?”
You become aware of the hot pulsing of your clit. Your jaw drops open. “Yes,” you stammer, “yes, that’s— that’s what I want. I want that so bad, Tom. Please.”
He chuckles. “Fine. If you’re that desperate, you can cum… But we aren’t stopping until I’m satisfied, darling, and I’m not as easy to please as you.”
Tension falls away from your shoulders. “Thank you,” you whine. After fumbling with your hand for a second, you reach between your legs and stroke at your bud. It takes only a few seconds for you to roll over the edge, friction barely existent due to the spit still covering your mound. You cry out loudly as your walls clamp around him, the warm barbells nudging up against the sensitive nooks of your cunt and stimulating until you’re in tears, shaking against the table even as you stop touching yourself. The orgasm ends, but the leg-weakening pleasure persists, and it’s incredibly hard to keep any composure as he continues.
“So pretty, baby,” Tom coos from above, “such a greedy little pussy. Two orgasms, but it still wants more.”
Heat rolls down your spine. When you try to speak, he makes a cooing noise.
“Don’t even try to talk,” he reassures, “you don’t need to push yourself. I’ve got you. I know what you need. In fact...”
Without hesitation, Tom feeds his fingers into your mouth. Two of his digits weigh over your tongue, deep enough that you taste the tang of metal from his rings. You cry out as you shift around on the bench, the battle between wanting more and less making your head hurt. The way that you crave further release almost hurts, your body tired and overstimulated, but you lean into it as you chase the sparks of heat being so relentlessly pushed upon you.
“Touch yourself for me again,” he pants after a few moments of ruthless thrusting, “touch your clit.”
You whimper loudly as you follow his instructions. Your bud is so sore; pulsing, and protesting, but drinking in every guilty stretch of enjoyment. Overstimulated and aching, round tears roll down your face, stinging at the hot sizzle of your cheeks. It’s so much: the overstimulation, the rub of his pierced head against your walls. If not for the steady press of his hand to the bottom of your spine, you’d probably be on the floor. As he lowers his head to pant into your ear, you realise you aren’t the only one consumed by heat.
“C’mon, darling,” he coos, teeth nipping at your earlobe, “I want to cum, and I know you do too. I know you can do it again.” He holds you with greater force, his tone dipping darker. “Let me feel how tight you get around my cock.”
You push his fingers from your mouth, just enough to slur out a flushed, “I— can’t… it’s too much.”
“Yes, you can.” He pushes his digits against your tongue again, and you find yourself sucking on them as you crave relief. “I can feel you on the verge. I can feel how desperate you are for this, baby. Let me see how pretty you are as you cum for me. C’mon.”
The rich timbre of his words pushes you over the edge, and it’s a blur of slippery hands against the table as his fingers push down on your tongue. As you stroke your bud in time with his angled thrusts, it doesn’t take much to unleash the inferno. When you spasm into climax, it’s all you can do to squeeze your eyes shut and trust him to finish the ride, becoming boneless as pleasure clears out every other sensation from your body. So overwhelmed, you’re only dimly aware of Tom’s peak, your cunt registering the hot pulse of his cock as he empties into the condom and thrusts into you until you start to whine.
When he slips out from you, he stays wrapped around you, coddling you by moving his hand away from your mouth and twining it around your waist. He pulls you up and back, and as your front loses the cool contact of the countertop, your back is met by the warm, rippling expanse of his chest. Your head lolls into the gap between his neck and shoulders, and he kisses over the left side of your head as you pant for recovery.
“Perfect,” he murmurs, “you’re so perfect.”
A tired smile rolls across your face. “Stop,” you whine.
“Never.” Tom spins you around to face him. A clean hand fixes your tank top, pulling it back down over your chest after he kisses each one of your nipples. Next, he adjusts your skirt, then finishes his cleanup by pressing his lips to your forehead. He looks at you, fondness swelling before collapsing into sadness. “I wish I had a shower here,” he mutters. He cups your cheek in his hand. “I wish I could look after you better.”
Your mouth feels dry. “You’ve done enough.”
He pouts. “Still,” he mutters.
Stretching closer, you kiss at his lips until they split into a smile. “Tom,” you coo, “you did a fantastic job. Probably the best hookup I’ve ever had in my life.”
He snorts. “Oh, is this just a hookup to you?” Then, when you take more than a split second to reply, “uh… Not to say that this wasn’t just a hookup. It can just be that if you want.”
“Or it could be more. It’s up to you.” His blush looks beautiful as it clashes with the strength of his features. It crawls across his features, vulnerable but hopeful, lighting up when you smile.
“Well,” you say, “I might need a few, uh… Checkups. On my leg, y’know?”
He nods seriously. “Of course, of course.”
“And, uh... Actually, it feels a little strange right now. Like I, uh, need to rest it. Somewhere.” You smile coyly. “Too bad my flat is all the way across the city.”
Tom hums. He follows your train of thought. “Well, I couldn’t possibly let my favourite client walk home late at night, especially not with a bit of a sore leg, could I? That would be terrible business etiquette. The only logical thing to do would offer you a stay at my place, which, rather conveniently, is a flat just across the road.”
“Wow. What a coincidence.”
A large smile sprawls across his face. He reaches down for your hands, then squeezes tightly. “Let’s get cleaned up a little, and I’ll take you home, darling.”
And, later, you’ll stand out on his small balcony and watch the smoggy sky together, his hand never once leaving your shoulder. You’ll be given kisses as he names a constellation after you, feeling overwhelmed by a dizzy attraction that chisels at the worn exterior of your heart until it cracks open and pours molten pink all across his lips. Then, in the morning, you’ll wake with his body curled into your chest and to the brush of soft chestnut curls rubbing up against your chin. He’ll rasp into your ear something cheesy about being met with the sight of an angel, and you’ll spend the morning spinning around his kitchen, cracking eggs into a sizzling pan.
But for now, you’re standing with his thumbs rubbing over the back of your knuckles and nothing but limitless possibilities spread out before you. You smile as you say,
“That sounds wonderful.”
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧ *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧ *:・゚✧*:・゚✧ *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
:D !!!!! so !!!!!! very different for me but i hope you liked it :’) been a while since i’ve posted anything i’ve really liked, but writing this really felt like a breath of fresh air <3 i hope you enjoyed it
i would love to know if you have any thoughts!
masterlist + taglist through link in bio <3
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blindingdutchy · 12 days ago
golf groupie | t.holland
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{frat!golf!tom x sorority!reader}
summary: the last thing tom holland needs is to have his massive ego stroked, but when you lose a bet and are forced to play the role of his biggest fan... maybe his cockiness isn't always so bad.
word count: 10,483
warnings: smut! enemies to fuckers. like the tiniest bit of angst/fluff if you squint? alcohol, vague descriptions of golf because i'm bad at it, tom and y/n being insufferable. language. explicit warnings below divide.
18+!!! minors stay away!
here it is, a whole day late because i'm fucking garbage!
warnings: oral (m receiving), fingering (f receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it up, folks. don't be like these two). cocky!tom! praise kink (m receiving).
The atmosphere in the party is thick, palpable even. The air, clouded with smoke and haze from who knows how many substances, no longer feels exciting and electric—it feels suffocating. Discreetly, or as inconspicuously as possible in your drunken state, you wipe the back of your hand across your brow to clear the sweat that has collected there.
“Sometime today would be nice, (Y/N).”
Your brows furrow in frustration, a haughty glare marring the features of your face as you tear your gaze away from the table to face Tom. Tom Holland, also known as the president of the Alpha Psi Omega fraternity chapter at your university, and also known as the bane of your existence. His smirk is equally as heated as your scowl, and you can see it in the way his brown eyes twinkle that he has you exactly where he wants you… sweaty, stressed, and frustrated.
It’s hard to say just how the rivalry between the two of you began, and even harder for you to pinpoint when exactly the ever present feelings of resentment you harbored for the man first blossomed. Some part of you feels as though you’ve always hated him, but the fiery heat that always blossoms in every part of your body in his present isn’t like any distaste you’ve ever felt before. It’s complicated, confusing, and nothing like the way you hated Maggie Harper back in your home town. She’s the only other person you’ve known, without a doubt, that you hated.
Perhaps the tension between you and Tom is due to your mutual competitiveness. As much as it pains you to acknowledge, and as much as everyone else loves to point out, Tom and yourself are like two sides of the same coin. You both strive to be the life of the party, the center of attention, and Tom would do anything to outshine you in any way that he can. You’d do much the same, though.
Your earliest memory of the rivalry between the two of you takes you back to your freshman year, three—nearly four—years prior. You had been auditioning for the spring theater production, in which Tom had already scored the starring role. It had been quite the accomplishment for a freshman, and that same man had singlehandedly crushed your own dreams that day. Oh, how naïve you’d been, so bright eyed and ready to take on the world.
It had come down to just you and one other woman, a senior who’d starred as the leading role in each production for the past two years. Despite the strong chance that you’d be beat out, you were prepared. For weeks you had practiced relentlessly, perfecting your monologues and lines down to the last breath. When it came time to do the final audition—a reading opposite Tom—you swallowed down your nerves and gave the performance of your life.
Penelope, your competition for the part, had delivered a compelling read herself. Even you had found yourself holding back tears at her beautiful performance, but you felt it in your bones that the role was yours. The other cast and the theater director herself had been openly weeping following your performance, and you truly felt as if the chemistry between yourself and Tom was undeniable.
But, then the impossible happened. Penelope had snagged the role, and it wasn’t until later that you found out why. A friend of yours had been given one of the minor roles and had been present for the decision making process. That was how you learned that Tom had been the deciding factor, astonishing the director when he’d chosen Penelope without a moment’s hesitation. You had pretended it didn’t hurt when you’d spotted them hanging all over each other for weeks after that, but it did. He’d chosen her for his own personal motives.
A ping pong ball assaulting your forehead is what finally brings you back to the present, and your hand flings to your face as you gasp in surprise. “Tom, what the fuck?” you hiss, but he only laughs.
“Are you gonna make the shot or not, sweetheart?” he taunts, and you ignore the way the pet name makes you shiver in favor of the way his smirk makes your blood boil, “Scared? Afraid to lose in front of everyone?”
Two red cups remain standing on the long table. One close to Tom’s end, one of the few from the back row that had been alluding you throughout the entire game, and one more on your end. The ball you’ve been holding for the past few minutes is damp and slippery, and you’re not sure if it’s from being repeatedly dunked in beer or if it’s because your hands are sweaty with anxiety. A crowd surrounds you, an amalgamation of Tom’s frat brothers and your own sorority sisters, and for once all eyes being on you doesn’t fill you with pride.
Scoffing, you square your shoulders and widen your stance as you snarl, “You wish, Holland.” His smirk only widens, brown eyes following your every move with an amount of intensity that only causes the sweat on your brown to worsen.
If you miss, then Tom has the opportunity to win it all. You’d been leading by a lone cup nearly the entire game, courtesy of a busty party-girl distracting him during one of his earlier shots, and now the two of you are on equal ground. He’d managed to sink two cups on his last throw—the ball bouncing the beer in one cup to another before you could catch it—and no longer are you feeling quite so confident in yourself.
With a deep breath and an annoying ringing in your ear, you pull your hand back and squint your eyes at his cup. The nearly weightless white ball glides through the air and hits the rim of his cup, your heart stalling in your chest, but he catches it from its spin around the rim before it can hit the beer beneath. Fuck, your stomach twists as you meet his arrogant gaze once more.
“Are you ready to see me win?” he goads once more, and all at once the rage in your belly seems to take over.
Normally, you’d know better than to challenge Tom Holland. The man only ever seems to strengthen in the face of adversity, stepping up to any challenge that comes his way with a level of certainty that makes you nauseous, but the spite on your tongue is impossible to hold back. “Wanna bet?” you snipe, and he puffs his chest with raised brows, “If you miss, then you have to let me shave your head at the sorority raffle next month.”
For a moment, a fraction of a second so fast that you nearly miss it, his smirk morphs into a grimace and his eyes flash with fear. But, Tom is quick to correct himself as the crowd around you both ooh’s and aah’s with excitement. “Fine,” he shrugs, licking his lips with a chuckle that warns you of bad things to come, “but, when I win, you have to come to the state championship next week as my biggest fan.”
“Fine.” you shrug, though internally bile is creeping up your throat at the very idea.
Tom grins, “Fine.”
And then, like something out of a movie, he cocks his arm and throws blindly. The ball sinks into your cup instantly, not even touching the rim, and for a moment you think your knees have given out with the way the floor rocks beneath you. You’re still standing, though, and the floor is creaking wildly under the ravenous crowd jumping on Tom who stares you down as if you’re the only person in the world. You can’t even hear the raucous cheering, that ringing filling your ears until it sounds like white noise, and you can’t look away. Even as the cup is held to your lips and beer is forced down your throat like a fucked up water board, you remain trapped in Tom’s stare.
What have you done?
There’s not much in the way of entertainment that brings you quite as much joy as getting under Tom Holland’s skin. In the few years that you’ve known him, you’ve come to realize more than just a few things. Firstly, despite his uncanny ability to rise to any challenge and come out on top, Tom’s temper is about as short as they come. Secondly, nobody else seems to be as apt to getting him all hot and bothered as you are.
And, thirdly? Well, thirdly, you get a peculiar amount of joy from watching him squirm. One simple push of his buttons from you, and suddenly Tom is a whole other man—gone is the devilish charm and quick wit, so quickly replaced with fiery scowls and rumbling growls. He’s enticing in that way, exciting even.
Maybe you’re just sadistic, or perhaps just a bit unhinged to relish in his unraveling like you do, but who’s to say? You know, better than anyone, that Tom gets that same sick satisfaction from you. It’s the world’s weirdest game of cat and mouse. Hell, the two of you could probably give Tom the cat and Jerry the mouse a run for their money with your reckless antics.
For example, right now Tom’s jaw is so tense you’re almost convinced you can hear the faintly audible crackle and grind of his teeth over the distant chatter of his fellow golfers. His eyes are dark, so dark you can barely discern the familiar amber twinkle of his molten irises anymore, and they laser focused on you. Or, well, on your outfit.
As much as you love the thrill of having all eyes on you, you have to admit that in this moment… you’re more than satisfied with the intense beam of Tom’s eyes alone. Patiently you wait for him to approach, his steps harsh and calculated stomps against the asphalt of the parking lot, and your smirk only widens at the sight of his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. Oh, he’s pissed, and you are loving it.
“What the fuck are you wearing?” he seethes, accent thickening in his fit of rage, and it only makes you all the happier.
Feigning innocence, you blink at him and flick the hem of your skirt playfully as you say, “What, you don’t like it, Tommy?”
Button Number One: Tom absolutely despises it when you call him Tommy. His jaw ticks, his eyes flash, and your belly twists into gleeful knots at the sight of it. He almost makes it too easy, really, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.
In the distance you can make out the all too pleased faces of his teammates and straggling fraternity brothers. A small group of them remains outside the bus, their eyes trained on the pair of you with amused smirks and raucous laughter. They’re whispering—but you have a pretty good idea as to what they’re talking about.
You wonder briefly if Tom knows his eye is twitching, but his voice is far from a tremor as he demands, “Where’s the stuff I gave you? You lost the bet, (Y/N), and you were supposed to—“
“Oh, calm down, Tom,” you sigh, and bite back a laugh at the way he pinches his nose in utter frustration, “I just made a few… improvements.”
It’s true. You had made a few improvements to the cheap outfit and poster that Tom had given you the night prior, when he’d shown up unannounced to your sorority house un the middle of the night. Just when you’d been about ready to admit defeat, consumed with anxiety and embarrassment over the day that lay ahead of you… Tom had pushed just the right button to get you fired up again.
The door to your room burst open unexpectedly, and you’d barely had time to snap your robe shut before Tom came stalking into the tiny bedroom with a devilish grin and a mischievous twinkle in his eye. If anything, the glimmer had only intensified at the startled gasp you’d let out and the way you clutched your satin robe even tighter to your nude body in astonishment.
In his hands, he carried a plastic sack that rustled loudly and a gruesomely tragic attempt at a poster, two of the corners bent and creased from a lack of care over the flimsy board. You glared at him, snapping, “What are you doing in my room?”
“Right, we have a few things to go over, sweetheart.” Was all he said, that usual cheeky smirk splitting his cheeks as he made himself at home in your room. All you could do was groan as he plopped his still shoe clad feet onto your bed as he flopped onto the mattress, before he continued, “I’ve taken the creative liberty with your shirt, since you so nicely informed me you didn’t give a fuck about it.”
Indignantly, you tried to protest, “I did not say—“
“You said, and I’m quoting here, darling, I don’t give a fuck about the goddamn shirt, Tom! Leave me alone!” Tom pitched his voice higher in an attempt to mock you, the action causing your face to heat up and your lips to curl in a snarl. Nevertheless, he goaded, “Sound familiar? Anyhow, I come bearing gifts.”
It was ridiculous how easily he caused your blood to boil, how easily he made your skin crawl, how easily he made your heart race—wait, scratch that last one. It was just the rage and adrenaline causing heart palpitations, surely. You wondered, sometimes, if he felt all of the weird little things you felt when the two of you went head to head like this. Did he feel as if he were at the peak of a mountain, struggling to breathe and jittery with anticipation of the unknown?
Surely, not. Tom Holland probably felt only resolute hatred for you, if his actions told you anything at all. Though, you did wonder if any other person made his cheeks go red like you seemed to. Did anyone else seem to fluster him so easily?
Tom cleared his throat, bringing you out of your silent reverie as you were presented with the shirt in question. It was small—at least two sizes smaller than what you’d told him. It wasn’t the size that made you bare your teeth in a spiteful hiss, though. No, it was the god awful photograph of himself emblazoned boldly across it. Was that… was that a headshot?
Taking your grimace of disgust in stride, the man grinned and dumped the cheap article onto your floor before rifling through the plastic sack once more to retrieve a skirt. “Can’t forget the golf skirt, of course,” he hummed, looking far too pleased with himself as you groaned at the sight, “I took a guess on the size.”
If the shirt was anything to go off of, you were almost certain it wouldn’t fit. “You’re a little too happy about all of this, Tommy.” You grumbled. At least there was a brief respite of satisfaction for you in seeing the familiar way his eye twitched at the name.
You really weren’t all that sure as to why it bothered him so much, but you didn’t really care either. Nothing was off limits when it came to the two of you. Well, maybe except true public humiliation; the two of you may have gotten a kick out of riling each other up before a crowd, but there were some things that might have gone too far. You hadn’t figured them out, yet, but surely you would eventually.
“Just pleased to see you finally admitting the truth, sweetheart.” Tom cooed.
The truth? Did he mean… “Oh, come off it, Tom.” You scoffed, but he only beamed back at you cheekily, “You wish!”
His eye dropped in a lazy wink, “It’s okay to be honest with yourself, (Y/N). I can’t blame you for falling in love with me—“
“Oh, just get to the point, Tom!” you snapped, ignoring his laughter at the way your temper flared, “Finish your little show so I can go to bed.”
If you had thought that the shirt was bad, it was nothing compared to the sign. Tom showed it off to you as if it were a masterpiece, but you could only compare it to the likes of a six year old’s arts and crafts project. Big block letters spelled out, Go Tom! And somehow, someway, he’d managed to run out of space for the five letters. It was embarrassing, really, how terrible it was.
Tom showed it off to you as if it were a masterpiece, but you could only compare it to the likes of a six year old’s arts and crafts project. Big block letters spelled out, Go Tom! And somehow, someway, he’d managed to run out of space for the five letters. It was embarrassing, really, how terrible it was.
You could deal with the stupid shirt. You could deal with the ugly golf skirt. But that sign? Hell no. There was no way you would be caught dead holding that sign—it brought you discomfort to even keep it in your presence.
Which, was why you’d torn it to shreds the moment Tom had finally dragged himself out of your private space. After a lot of screaming, and a bit of crying, you sat amidst the shreds of the poster and dreaded the day to come. You were meant to follow the university bus to the golf course bright and early the next morning, and for a moment you truly considered just not showing up.
What would he have done? Come and retrieved you from the sorority house? Dragged you to the course kicking and screaming? No, no, Tom wouldn’t have done that. But, you knew that if you didn’t show it would give him all the ammunition he needed to torment you for the foreseeable future. Not showing up would show that he’d finally, truly beat you, and you wouldn’t stand for that.
No, you couldn’t let him beat you again, let him see that he’d truly won and pushed you past your limit. If you wanted to come away from that day with your pride intact, then you would have to show Tom that you could beat him at his own game. And, what better way to do that, than to make him squirm by doing exactly what he’d asked of you?
If Tom Holland wanted a super-fan, then a super-fan he would get.
“You call those improvements?” Tom scoffed, and you shrugged, “I spent money on that shirt, (Y/N), where the hell is it?”
Gone is the t-shirt with the awful photograph of his face. In truth, it never would have seen the light of day even if you had liked it—the fabric was too thin and the fit too tight on your body to be worn in public. Plus, your breasts had stretched his face beyond recognition… on second thought, perhaps that would have been fairly amusing.
Instead, you’re wearing a simple shirt you’d made with the words Go Tommy! Expertly written in perfect sizing across the front. You’d been sure to measure for accuracy. The golf skirt miraculously fits well, and so you at least can say that you’d followed one bit of his instructions. And the sign? Well, you’d taken your own creative liberties (and your sorority sister’s scrapbooking supplies).
A bigger, brighter, better neon poster board is crisply rolled in your hand to be revealed only once you arrive at the golf course. You’d spent far longer than you’d like to admit printing photos from his social media, and a few from your own, to be cut apart and pasted on the board. You couldn’t wait to see the look on his face when he would see the way you’d pasted photos of yourself next to him.
Pouting teasingly, you whine, “It was too small, Tommy. Stretched your face all out and made you look even uglier.”
Button Number Two: insulting his appearance always gets him going. Tom’s cheeks redden and his hands shake as he raises them to his face, pulling at his hair as If he is attempting to keep himself from truly losing his cool. Oh, he really makes it all worth it with his reactions.
The bus honks, and one of his teammates calls out for him to hurry up, and the moment is over. He gives you one last bitter glare over his shoulder as he snarls, “Stick to the deal, (Y/N), or else. You lost the bet, so deal with it.”
“Oh, I’ll deal with it, alright,” you smirk, “don’t you worry, Tommy. I’ll be the best super-fan in the world.”
Golf is, without a doubt, the most boring sport on the face of the planet. Despite the forced, nearly crazed smile that splits your cheeks and the proud way you tote around the neon-pink poster in your hands, you can barely focus on anything anymore. Your feet hurt from walking the course, your back aches from straining to be sure you’re never out of Tom’s line of sight, and your throat is going raw from the manic cheers you hoot whenever the crowd applauds for Tom.
If the embarrassment on Tom’s face hadn’t been so amusing to see, you would have been far more embarrassed for yourself. It takes everything in you not to cower away from the shameful glares of the unsuspecting victims around you, most of them none the wiser of just why you’re acting the way you are. But, Tom’s cheeks are permanently painted pink, and if the way he chews on his lips tells you anything, he’s positively sweating.
But the thing that really throws you for a loop and leaves you feeling breathless? You can’t seem to drag your eyes away from the man, and not because your little scheme is very clearly working. For once—okay, for once that you’re unable to deny—you’re not watching Tom purely out of malice. Not entirely, anyways.
No, your eyes are practically glued to his form. The obviously toned planes of his body under his ridiculously tight polo and grey pants. Has his ass always been so… defined? Have his arms always looked so strong, so perfect to wrap you up and—
Biting hard on your tongue, you inhale sharply as you realize exactly what is so different about the way Tom makes you feel in comparison to how Maggie Harper did. With Maggie, the disgust and hatred had been clear and blatant in your mind. Sharp, unyielding, unforgiving. But, with Tom? It’s always been a muddied mess of butterflies and hornets in your guts.
Oh, fuck, you think Tom is hot!
You think Tom is hot, and you can’t deny that if there’s anything interesting at all about golf, it’s him. It’s obvious why he’s made it to the state championship, and why the whole school has been buzzing about his practically guaranteed win. He’s good—good enough that even you can tell, and a weird bubble of pride swells in your chest.
He’s hot, he’s definitely going to win, and maybe being his super fan isn’t the most embarrassing thing. After all, you could have come as the loser’s super fan… What the hell is going on with you?
Tom’s eyes meet yours as the crowd claps for him once more, respectfully, and yet you’re silent. All day he’d been avoiding your gaze, but now that you’re quiet? He can tell that something is bothering you, and that little smirk slowly starts to stretch across his perfect, pink—his stupid lips again!
His eyes are twinkling with a certain kind of fire you’ve never seen in them before, and it makes your heart race. Your palms are sweaty, your skin on fire, and your lungs burning. A war is waging in your body at the sight. Does he know? He winks, and you know that he definitely knows.
The rest of the tournament is a blur. Hole after hole, applause after applause, your mind is swimming in the clouds. You’re here, but you’re a million miles away as you struggle to make sense of all of the conflicting thoughts and feelings within you. One thing you’re certain of, is that you definitely don’t like Tom. You think he’s insufferable, and a petty part of you will never forgive him for the Penelope incident, but you also can’t help the way your mouth waters at the obscene ripple of muscle in his biceps each time he swings his club. You can’t help the way your eyes gravitate toward the cling of his polo to his torso, or the strain of his pants around his thighs. You’d be lying if you said you never thought of it before.
It’s pretty undeniable that Tom is attractive, objectively, but never before has it at the forefront of your mind. Maybe that’s what amuses you the most at how sensitive he seems to be when it comes to you insulting his appearance, because you know damn well that Tom Holland knows he is attractive. Or, maybe he just hates the fact that you seem to be the only woman on campus who doesn’t fawn over him.
But, now? Now there’s no denying that you are completely enraptured with his appearance, bordering on drooling over him, and he’s eating it up like a starved man. Your cheers have silenced in favor of clapping, much to the relief of the rest of the audience, and your eyes are constantly meeting his each and every time he looks over at you.
The arrogant quirk of his lips makes your blood boil in more ways than one. It makes you melt like a hormonal teenager, but it also flares that indignant fury within the pit of your belly. You hate him so, so, so much, and you hate the stupid way you want to put your hands on him in a completely non-violent way even more.
You hate the way you aren’t faking it when you cheer over his championship. You hate the way your shouts aren’t forced or teasing, but earnest and full of pride as you applaud him. You hate the way he grins at you and for once doesn’t have a hidden message behind those brown eyes. And, you really, really hate the way you hug him in front of everyone and like the way it feels.
“Wait for me outside the changing rooms.” He whispers for only you to hear, and you really fucking hate the shiver that racks down your body at the way his lips brush the shell of your ear. You especially hate the way you do exactly as he asks, and you don’t hate doing it one bit.
Waiting for Tom is exactly what you need to get yourself in check. In fact, the longer you wait, the more you feel your annoyance toward the man seep back through your veins—or, maybe that’s just because you’ve been sitting on the concrete for so long your butt has long gone numb. The crowd has dwindled down to practically nothing, and you’re starting to wonder if maybe this was Tom’s plan all along.
How long would you wait for him? How long would you sit, all alone, before you realized that he wasn’t coming and had probably snuck out some back door to laugh his way back to campus on the bus? A hot flare of anger bubbles through you at the thought, and you get up with a bitter scoff that makes your throat ache.
You should have seen it coming. All over again you’re reminded of that day three years in the past, reminded of the shame and embarrassment you had felt because of Tom fucking Holland. The punishment was never about you making a fool of yourself in front of the crowd—like always, Tom’s found yet another way to remind you that you’re a complete sucker for him and he knows it.
Swiping some imaginary dirt from your skirt, you angrily crumple the poster that you’d discarded onto the ground beside you and stuff it into a nearby trash can. Stupid, stupid, stupid! Tom may be an asshole, but at least he isn’t an idiot like you are—
“What did that poster ever do to you?”
Yelping at the sudden sound of Tom’s voice, you snap away from the garbage can you’d been fighting with as if it had electrocuted you. And, there he is, in all his glory. He’s still wearing the polo and pants, and he’s standing just inside the doorway to the changing rooms, and you’re wondering what the hell he’s been doing for the past hour and a half to keep you waiting.
Tom’s eyes are crinkled at the corners as he grins in amusement, appraising the half-hearted way your poster hangs over the top of the trash can, and your tongue is sharp as you hiss, “You sure took your sweet time. Congratulations, idiot, you missed the bus!”
His nostrils flare and he narrows his eyes at you, quirking that ridiculous messy brow of his as he snaps back, “I know, I asked you to wait because I was going to ride back to campus with you, sweetheart.”
There’s a lilt in his tone as he sneers the pet name that’s been coined yours and yours alone, and it only grates at you all the more in this moment. Why does he call you that? Why does he insist on calling you sweet names when his intentions are anything but? You hate him, and you hate that you secretly love the way the name sounds each time it slides off his tongue.
“And what if I don’t want you to, Tommy?” you taunt, hands on your hips and posture wide in defiance, “What if I just leave you here? I’ve already fulfilled my end of the deal, I’ve done my punishment—“
Button Number Three: Tom absolutely hates it when you deny him, and just like that, you watch as his temper begins to come unglued. “You’re a bloody insufferable little witch, you know that?” he grits out, jaw working overtime as he steps up to you, “Just when I thought you were finally going to drop this pathetic little act of yours, you just have to go and remind me that you’ll never change! You’re always going to be a—“
Your hands jump to life before your mind does, and he grunts as you shove him childishly. It’s a weak push, one that barely causes him to stumble, but it’s more than enough to show him that he’s got you exactly where he wants you. His mouth snaps shut and his eyes are trained heatedly onto you as you clench your fists and lock your knees indignantly. “I’m always going to be a what, Tom? A bitch?” There’s no playful fight in your tone this time; you’re pissed, and he can see it.
He loves it. It’s obvious from the way his eyes light up despite the stoic pinch of his brow. In a flash of movement that leaves you dazed and spinning, his hand clamps around your arm and drags you into the darkened changing room. It’s empty, and most of the lights are turned off, and it’s alarmingly quiet.
You’re alone with him, and you’re not sure whether you’re excited or terrified at the thought. The change in lighting from the blinding glare of the sun to the dim, near-darkness of the room has your eyes unfocussed and you blink rapidly to try and clear your vision. “What the hell are you doing, Tom?” you demand, and he laughs. The sound is distant, letting you know that he’s drifted away from you and further into the room.
“Just making sure you don’t leave me stranded, sweetheart.” He teases, and now your eye is twitching.
Following the sound of his voice, you make your way through the darkened rows of wooden lockers. A few times you bang your knees off of poorly placed benches (or, benches you’re still struggling to make out in the dim lighting, rather) and your grunts only make him chuckle in amusement. Your legs are aching and your temper is sufficiently frazzled by the time you find him, but in an instant your vision is sharper than ever and the air is sucked from your lungs.
Tom’s shirt is off, and you’re greeted by the sight of his bare back flexing as he works at the buckle of his belt deliberately. “God, are you really changing with me in here?” you gasp, and he peers at you from over his shoulder with a smirk. “What the hell were you doing all this time?”
He turns to face you and continues with removing his belt, shrugging nonchalantly, “Making you sweat. Have to admit, I expected you’d have left.” You knew it! “So, why’d you wait?”
The button of his pants pops open easily, and your breath hitches as he unzips them without a care. You swallow thickly, eyes glued to the strong hands that curl around the fabric of his pants, and you have to turn your head as he begins to pull them down. “I don’t know.” You mutter, growing hot under his gaze as your ears are trained on the sound of his trousers hitting the floor.
His chuckle is playful and gives you chills. “You don’t know?” Tom muses, “Didn’t want to stick around to congratulate me?”
“No.” you grumble, and you clench your eyes shut in frustration at the weak retort. That’s it? Where the hell has your fire gone? It’s ridiculously to keep your resolve when you know that he’s practically naked, mere feet away from you, and you’re not sure whether hatred is what’s fueled the feud between the two of you for so long.
Is it hatred? Or is it a weird, toxic sort of sexual tension? Does he feel it too?
Tom’s voice is much closer as he hums, “No?” His hand is gentle, but firm, as he grips your chin and turns your head back to face him. You know he can see the way your eyes flicker down to his bare chest for just a moment, and he cocks his head goadingly, “That’s not very nice of you, (Y/N). I almost thought you were enjoying it, what with how hard you were staring at me—were you?”
You’re made. The not-so-subtle crack of your voice is a blazing sign screaming that you’re lying, and he catches his lip between his teeth to stifle the laugh the rips through his chest. He’s so close, his hand still holding your chin, and your resolve is in shambles around you.
His tone is husky as he repeats his words from the previous night, “It’s okay to be honest with yourself, (Y/N), we both know you were.”
Hook, line, and sinker, he’s caught you in his trap. You’re not entirely sure who’s the first to move, but your movements are frantic as you meet him in the middle to crush your lips to his, and fuck. His lips are soft, yet hard and unyielding as he bores down on you with just as much force and desperation. Your head is spinning and your lungs feel like they’ve collapsed under the weight of his kiss, and you hate the way you never want it to end.
Lips gliding over lips, teeth clashing, and his grip on your jaw has gone from a tender hold to a bruising squeeze as he holds you in place. You’re panting, gasping out hot breaths into his mouth as he parts his lips and breathes you in. Tom groans as your hands leave your sides to clutch his shoulders, clinging to him out of a fear of your knees giving out.
Your head falls back as he drags his hot and heavy lips away from your mouth, trailing wet and sloppy kisses over your jaw before he’s whispering in your ear, “I want to hear you say it, sweetheart.” Gritting your teeth, you shake your head indignantly and he growls under his breath, “Say it.”
Tom’s still working at your neck, his lips sealing around your tender skin as he sucks hard to leave his mark—a mark you’re certain will not fade for days, regardless of how many frozen spoons you might hold to it in the night. It’s not until his teeth nip at your flesh that you start to truly give in, a pitiful whine escaping you as you dig your fingernails into his shoulders, “Tom—“
He clicks his tongue, moving onto another patch of skin just behind your ear as you still refuse to tell him what he wants. Another harsh suck, one more nip of his teeth, a soothing glide of his silky tongue over bruising skin, and you can’t hold back the moan that rips from the pit of your stomach. You hate the way you can feel his smirk against your ear as he hums approvingly at the sound.
“You’re lying.” He states plainly as he pulls back to look you in the eye, positively glowing from the pliant way you’ve melted into his hold. One hand is gripping your hip firmly, the other having drifted from your jaw to find purchase in the tender space of your ribs just beneath your breast. With each breath that heaves through your chest, you can just barely feel the brush of his thumb along the swell of the fleshy mound, and you hate how much you crave to truly feel it.
Stubbornly, you protest, “I’m not.” You are, though, and he knows it.
All at once he backs away from you, all traces of his touch leaving your steadily heating body, and you have to choke down the whine of protest that threatens to leave you. Tom’s still smirking, and he shrugs whilst raking a hand through his curls that have grown messy in your entanglement, “Alright, then. I guess I read the signs wrong.”
You know damn well what he’s doing, and it’s ridiculous how easily he can snare you in his web. How easily Tom Holland can get you right where he wants you, tangle you up in his trap, and how easily he can bend you to his will. You’re faced with two choices—stick to your stubborn refusal to admit he’s right (as always) and leave this room without ever knowing what could have happened, or tell him what he wants to hear and find out exactly what could happen.
It’s a challenge, an unspoken competition, and that’s what leads you to do it. He’s gloating over your childishly stubborn nature, and you can’t stand it anymore. Your voice is harsh as you snap, “Fine, Tom. I enjoyed it.”
For a moment he looks surprised, but the subtle part of his lips is quickly stretched into a radiant smile. “That’s it?” he taunts, and you growl with a pathetic stomp of your foot. “Come on, sweetheart, you can do better than that.”
“Fine!” your voice raises, “I loved it! I loved watching you, and I wasn’t faking it anymore when I cheered for you, and I meant it when I congratulated you! You were amazing, but you know that, and I was fucking proud—“
Your back slams against the locker behind you, and the loud moan that reverberates through your body at the feeling of his body pressing into you is theatrical. This time his kiss is deliberate, an all-consuming grind of his lips into yours and his hands wander your body freely. He’s pawing at your breast, squeezing the tender flesh harshly, and he’s palming your ass with a harsh grip that has you whining and pushing back into his hand desperately.
But, Tom’s got other plans. Feeling the way you submit to his touch, wordlessly begging for more, he pinches your ass hard enough to make you yelp and rips his lips from yours. His eyes are dark and heady, and his voice is gravelly as he tells you, “I want you to show me.”
Your loud breathing is wavering, the pants of air tremoring as you squeak, “What?”
“Show me,” he repeats, “show me how proud of me you were. Show me how much you enjoyed it, (Y/N). Don’t you think I deserve a proper reward?”
It takes a moment for you to figure out just what he wants, but the subtle press of his hand on your shoulder to nudge you downward fills you in. Timidly, you whisper, “Yes.” And then you’re sinking to your knees in the empty changing room, and you’re thankful he’d taken his pants off so long ago because you’re pretty sure your hands are shaking too hard to have ever taken his belt off.
Your fingers are visibly trembling as you reach toward the band of his briefs, and he laughs arrogantly at the sight, winking at the scowl that mars your features in response. Taking a deep breath, you shake off your nerves and peel the fabric down his legs quickly. That’s all you have to do—this is a challenge. Just another competition, and you’re determined to win.
His length stands at attention, your eyes trailing over the form of his cock as it springs free, and you bite down the smirk that tugs at your lips at the sight. He’s already worked up, pre-cum leaking from his reddened tip, and pride swells in your chest at knowing it’s because of you. So, your suspicions are confirmed, he has felt it too—he has those same muddy feelings that you do.
Tom’s hand curls through your hair, gripping the strands tightly at your prolonged hesitation, and he tugs your head back until you’re looking up at him. “Get on with it.” He warns, and you roll your eyes only to yelp as he yanks your hair roughly. “Don’t do that again, or you’ll regret it.”
It takes everything in you not to do it again. A part of you wants to do it, to test him, to challengehim, just to see what he’d do—but you’re determined to stay on track. The thrill of his hand guiding your head toward his length has you shivering in anticipation, though, and you’re all too eager to part your lips and take him into your mouth.
His tip is heavy on your tongue, the taste of the stray drops of his pre-cum sparking salty and bitter through your mouth, and your hands grip his thighs tightly as you adjust to the weight of him. Tom’s grip on your hair slackens for only a moment, before tightening considerably, and you relish in the quiet groan that spills from his own lips above you. You were determined to reduce him to a blubbering mess, to show him that even when he thought you were giving him exactly what he wanted… you were still the winner.
Your first bob is curious, testing your limit, and your scalp stings from how harshly he pulls at your hair the further your lips travel down his shaft. Pulling back, you hollow your cheeks tightly and flatten your tongue against the ridge beneath his tip, sucking hard. “Fuck, sweetheart,” he hisses, and you take that as your cue.
Your nose digs into the curls at the base of his cock, his tip prying your throat open as you swallow around him and hold him there. You can feel the way his thighs quiver, and your hands squeeze them teasingly. Button Number One: Tom loves it when you take all of him, and you love the way he trembles all for you.
You pull away to breathe, swirling your tongue around his tip and milking each drop of his leaking cock greedily, before pushing forward again. This time his thighs tense, his hips bucking into your mouth, and he moans when you choke around him in surprise. Tears gather in your eyes, and your nose burns as your spit is forced into your sinuses, but you push on despite the desperate urge to recoil.
“Fucking, Christ, (Y/N)!” he cries out as you pick up your pace, his nails scratching your scalp and the other hand coming down to push stray hairs from your face to clear his view. If you’d thought your favorite look on Tom’s face was the familiar clench of his jaw whenever you pissed him off, that was nothing but a distant memory now. Now, now you’re certain that this is your favorite side of Tom. The part of his lips as he pants, the clench of his eyes as he thrusts himself to the very back of your throat once more, and the way his head falls back each time he lets out a noise of ecstasy.
You love it. You love the way it’s you doing that to him, and you love the full-body shivers that consume you as you feed off of his pleasure. Already you can feel your body responding. Your belly is tightening in anticipation, your thighs are clenching, and you want nothing more than to take your hand from his thigh and slip it into your skirt.
But, that’s not your plan. You keep ahold of his legs, peering up at him from under your lashes as you take him down to the hilt once again, squeezing the hard muscle of his thighs as he groans, and you’ve got him right where you want him. You won’t be the one to take the next step; you’re determined to push him to do it himself.
It doesn’t take long, either. The moment your hand leaves his thigh to curl around his shaft, your mouth bobbing in tandem, he practically rips you away from him by your hair. His breathing is labored and you can see the slight tremor in his hands as he takes a step back and breathes, “Enough, that’s enough.”
Wiping the spit from your chin, you coo, “I thought you wanted a proper reward, Tommy?”
His briefs lay abandoned on the floor, and he kicks them away on shaky legs as he grits out, “Take off your shirt.”
He sputters, and you blink at him innocently, still sitting on your heels on the floor even though your kneecaps are begging for mercy. “No?” he repeats, and you nod, “So that’s it, then?”
Shrugging, you dismiss, “I guess so, Tommy. You want it off? Come and take it.”
Hook, line, and sinker. His jaw clenches, and in an instant he bounds toward you and heaves you up from the floor. Tom’s hands are frantic and he fumbles to rip your shirt upward, your arms lifting with the motion as he drags the fabric over your head and tosses it away. The air chills your skin, and you can see the way his eyes are drawn to the stiff peaks of your nipples straining against the fabric of your bra.
He doesn’t stop there, though, and you’re holding back a triumphant grin as his hands yank the zipper of your skirt down and shove the fabric off of your hips. His eyes are greedy, blown wide and eager as he drags them over the form of your body, only covered by your scrap of lace thong and bra. The feeling of having all eyes on you is nothing compared to the thrill of having him look at you like this, like you’re his last meal.
Finally, seeing him completely enthralled with the sight of your body, you make the next move. His breath hitches as you bring your hands behind your back to unclasp your bra, letting the straps slide down your arms and the faint sound of the fabric hitting the floor practically echoes in the quiet room. You trail your hands down your sides, hooking your thumbs into the waistband of your thong, and he groans quietly.
The lace ghosts over your thighs and drops to the floor as well, and Tom is paralyzed before you. “Are you just going to stand there, Tommy?” you tease, and his shoulders stiffen.
Button Number Two: Tom absolutely loves it when you call him Tommy, and now you finally understand why it’s always gotten under his skin. He’s slow and purposeful as he steps up to you once again, his eyes gliding over all the plains of your body before finding your own, and you’re breathless at the intensity of his stare. He’s hesitant, almost, as his hand comes to rest on your hip.
“Don’t you want your reward?”
Tom silences you with a kiss, the force of it knocking your head back into the wooden locker behind you as he backs you into it all over again. A dull ache radiates through your skull, but all that you can focus on is the way his hands feel on your bare skin. One large palm drags up your ribs until it cups the swell of your breast, and he squeezes firmly. You gasp quietly, and he slips his tongue between your lips until you’re melting into him.
His fingers are deft and experienced as he toys with your nipple, pinching and rolling the bud between the calloused pads of his thumb and fingertips until it’s stiffened to its limit. “Tell me how much you enjoyed watching me.” He whispers the demand into your lips, and your back arches when he tweaks your sensitive nipple harshly. “Tell me what you liked, what had you staring at me like you wanted to rip my clothes off right on the green.”
You love the arrogant tone of his voice, and the way his cocky smirk feels against your lips as he steals another messy kiss from you. It’s sloppy, and wet, and you can feel the mixture of your saliva coating your chin and cheeks from just how feral your kisses are, and you love it. “Tommy, I—“
You can’t get the words out as he drags a finger through your folds, gathering your wetness and groaning throatily into your ear. “All this for me?” he taunts, treading the lone digit over the hood of your clit with just the faintest amount of pressure, but it’s enough to make you whine, “Tell me, and I’ll give you what you want.”
“I—“ his lips seal around the nipple he’d been rolling between his fingers, and your voice pitches upward as you struggle to speak, “I loved the way you looked in your uniform. I loved the way your shirt was so tight, and I couldn’t stop thinking about what you’d look like without it—fuck, Tommy!”
Tom nips at your breast, scrambling all the thoughts in your head as you throw your head back into the locker again, and his fingers tease your sodden entrance. “Keep going, sweetheart.” He tuts, and you’re putty in his hands.
Breathily, you stammer, “Your arms—I couldn’t stop staring at your arms. The way they looked when you made a long drive, all the muscle straining against your sleeves like they could rip at any second—your hands! Your hands, I wanted to feel you touch me with your glove on!”
He dips one finger into your silken hole, your walls greedily clenching around him and working to draw him in even deeper. “Is that so?” he hums, and you nod pitifully with your eyes blown wide. His brown irises twinkle as he looks up at you, an airy chuckle sending shivers down your spine as he states, “I could get it out, if you’d like.”
For a brief moment you consider it, your mind taking you back to all the fantasies you’d conjured up about the leather article, but then he curls his finger against your spongy walls and you’re crying out, “No! Just, please, fuck me, Tommy!”
The game of cat and mouse continues. You’d gotten a leg up on Tom with his cock down your throat, but now, with his finger working to break you open, he’s back on top. He knows it, too, and you love the way his eyes hungrily devour the desperate plea on your face. Now, you’ve literally got a leg up on him.
His free hand closes around the soft flesh of your thigh, hitching your leg up until it’s curled around his back and hanging from his hip. A second finger slips past your entrance, and he scissors them within you until your struggling to hold yourself up anymore. “Another time, I suppose,” he shrugs, and you’re so consumed with the feeling of his digits pumping within you to take note of his implications that this will not be the only time he has you like this.
Tom’s grip on your thigh is harsh as he squeezes at the supple skin, his lips finding yours again as you writhe against him. The stretch of his fingers curling, scissoring, pumping into you burns delightfully as he picks up his pace. All that you can hear is the roar of blood rushing behind your ears, the messy squelch of your juices echoing through the room, and the sloppy whisper of your lips moving with his. You bite down on his lower lip when he curls his fingers just right, hitting the spot deep within you that sends sparks of pleasure radiating through your body. “Right there, Tommy, please—don’t stop!” you beg, your hips bucking, and he listens.
His cock is pressed into your abdomen, and Tom bites hard on your own lip as he curls his fingers again and again, working hard to take you to the limit. “C’mon, sweetheart, I know you’re close.” He grunts, and your hands are desperate to find purchase in him to keep you from crumbling. One curls into his hair, fisting the chocolate curls roughly, and the other squeezes the bicep that’s still straining to hold your leg up on his hip.
The coil in your belly is white-hot, tightened to an extreme that you’ve never felt before, and you’re greedy for more. Grinding your hips into his palm, pushing his fingers even further within you, you cry out, “Please, I need you—“
His thumb rolls deep circles around your clit, and you’re completely shattered. The coil snaps, your vision exploding into blinding stars, and you nearly topple to the floor as your leg finally gives out. Tom catches you, though, hissing as your nails drag deep welts into his bicep.
All too soon his fingers disappear from where you want—no, need them. You whine at the empty feeling that destroys your mind blowing orgasm, but the whine is quick to morph into a shriek. “Tommy!” you gasp, and he groans as he thrusts his length into your clenched entrance abruptly.
He sheathes himself to the hilt, splitting you open as your walls continue to flutter through the aftershocks of your climax, and his face drops into your shoulder. “You’re so fucking tight.” Tom pants.
Your heel digs into his back as you cling to him, your toes straining to keep you standing on the ground as he draws back and snaps his hips into yours roughly. The sharp cry that tears through your throat makes it burn, your windpipe ragged from the shrill exertion, and he moans deeply. His tip rams into the spongy point his fingers had just abused, and you clench around him in response.
It’s rough, and messy, and your back is definitely going to be bruised from how hard he’s slamming you into the wooden surface behind you, but you don’t care. All you care about is the perfect way his length stretches you, the way his lips suck at your neck mindlessly, and the way it feels when he rolls his hips just right to push as deep within you as he can go. He’s still clutching your thigh, his other hand holding your hips in place, and you wonder if you’re squeezing his arm hard enough to draw blood.
Pulling at his hair, you force his lips back to yours as your eyes roll back in pleasure. At this point you’re pretty sure the lazy, desperate press of your lips together is far from an actual kiss—more just frantic mouthing and heavy panting as you exchange moans into each other’s lungs, but you love it. “You feel so fucking good, Tommy,” you heave out, and he groans loudly as he forces his hips upward in a rough thrust, “I love it! I love the way you fuck me; I want you to make me cum!”
Button Number Three: Tom really, really loves it when you praise him, and you love to do it. His growl Is animalistic as he grips your hip so tightly it hurts, but the pain fades to nothing as he drives his cock into you even faster. You can feel yourself dripping down your thigh, the sound of your juices and the rhythmic slap of skin on skin tearing through the silence in the room, and you love the sound of it. His moans are deep and vibrate through your body, making you rock down into him each time he makes a noise.
“This cunt is mine,” he growls, and you clench your eyes shut as you feel his hand leave your hip to work in between your bodies. His thumb presses harshly on your clit, a choked squeal escaping you, and he demands, “Look at me, (Y/N). I want you to say it. Tell me whose cunt this is—tell me who fucks you like no one else ever could!”
You whine as his thumb remains still over your bud, his thrusts slowing too, and you’re too desperate to keep feeling him to care for how easily you give in to his demands. “Yours! It’s all yours, Tommy, I’m yours! Nobody could ever make me feel this good, nobody but you!” you sob, and you’ve never seen a smirk so pleased as the one that splits his cheeks in that moment. You love it, though.
His thumb rolls over your clit in steady, rhythmic circles, and tingles rip up your spine. Tom’s thrusts pick up their pace again, and you chant his name like a mantra. You can feel him straining, the way his thrusts are spastic and less focused, and you know he’s close. His eyes are clenched, his curls are limp and slick with sweat on his forehead, and you can see his cheeks reddening as he holds his breath to keep from cumming.
Gripping his hair tighter, you whisper, “You win, Tommy.” His eyes snap open, and you repeat, “You fucking win, you were right, please, just make me cum!”
You’ve found the golden ticket. His hips slam into your own one final time, his thumb working your swollen bud with more fury than ever, and the spark in your belly catches. Your entire body seizes as you tip over the edge, your head thrown back and your leg locking around his waist so hard he can’t pull back. He’s still rolling your clit like his life depends on it, even as he shouts your name and his cock twitches within your pulsing walls, and it’s burning you up inside.
The climax that consumes you is nothing like the first. Instead of stars in your eyes, it’s like you’re staring directly into the sun. Your vision whites out, and your hearing distorts into white noise, and your entire body is trembling. Each continued circle over your clit sends another wave of pleasure through your body so intense that you spasm, and you finally have to beg, “Stop, stop! Too much, Tommy, stop!”
His thumb finally stops its assault, and all you can focus on is the feeling of his length pulsing within your walls. A warmth fills you up, and you moan at the sensation despite knowing it was probably a poorly made decision. “Fuck,” Tom pants, chuckling slightly as he drops his head onto your shoulder and finally drops your leg, “I really hope you’re on birth control.”
“Yeah,” you laugh, “I am. Probably should have talked about that before, but… yeah.”
He’s breathing heavily as he laughs too, sheepishly repeating, “Yeah.”
The car ride back to campus is far from awkward, much to your surprise. You and Tom spend the entire ride discussing his championship, and you pretend to understand what he’s talking about when he goes full golf mode on you. In turn, he listens just as dutifully while you tell him about the upcoming sorority raffle in a few weeks, though you know he probably doesn’t care.
You sing along to the radio, fight over which top 40 song is the best, and you even find yourself dancing as you drive like you do when you’re alone. He dances too, though, so at least you know you have ammunition should he ever decide to speak of your horrible moves in public. You laugh and poke fun at each other, and for once it’s not about making the other mad. It’s just… playful.
But, now as you pull up outside of the fraternity house to drop him off, things are finally starting to come back to reality. Neither one of you can look the other in the eye, and you aren’t entirely sure what to say to him as you finally put the car in park and he grips the door handle. For once, he’s the first to break the silence and tread into uncharted territory, “So…”
“This changes nothing,” you finally say, taking his prolonged silence as a cue for you to speak, “right?”
His brown eyes hold your own for a long moment, and you almost worry you’ve said the wrong thing, before a tiny smirk twitches at his lips just like you’ve always seen, and he nods. “Yeah, right.” He affirms, and opens the door. “But, uh, maybe you could come inside?”
You stare at him in stunned silence, and the mischievous twinkle in his eye never dwindles as he patiently waits for a response. Glancing at the house, filled to the brim with his idiotic fraternity brothers, you ponder over whether to say yes or not. You could say no, and wonder what would have happened if you said yes. Or, you could say yes and find out for yourself.
It’s a challenge, or at least that’s what you tell yourself. Another competition, and you refuse to back down from him. So, you shrug and say, “Sure. I still hate you, though.”
Tom grins, “And I still hate you, sweetheart.”
TAGLIST {non-permanent, fic exclusive}:
@osterfieldshollandgirl @daydreamingchaos713 @itscaminow
special thanks to @peterr-parkourr for being the best hype woman ever. i hope you enjoy this!
621 notes · View notes
vendettaparker · 16 days ago
Baby Blues [T.H]
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Summary: When you start acting weird, Tom suspects that you’re pregnant. 
Word Count: 2.3k
Warnings: Swearing, mentions of sex, very very light angst, typos
a/n: i love love loved this request! it was so cute and sweet and i’m such a whore for dad!tom (even though he’s technically not a dad in this lol). tom has said that he’s a huge family man and that he’d love to have kids one day, so this fic is so perfect and cute for that perspective. hope you all enjoy and as always, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated! 
Tom was one hundred percent a family man. That little personality trait only seemed to multiply when he met you. Even before you were dating, all he could think about was starting a family with you. He’d always tell you, one of his closest friends, about the family he couldn’t wait to start. When you did actually start dating, he’d always whisper sweet comments in your ear about what an amazing mother you’d be and how much he wanted to see you round with his kids. He was usually super sweet and gushy with it, but every once in a while he’d slip an “I’m gonna fuck you full of my babies”, which would always lead to the best sex you’d ever experienced. 
You wanted kids too, but your need for them was held back by how unprepared you felt and how young you were. You and Tom were still only in your twenties. You still had plenty of time to start a family. Hell, you weren’t even married yet. So, Tom agreed to wait for kids, even if he couldn’t possibly contain his excitement at the thought of starting a family with you. 
Until you and Tom were both completely prepared for the responsibility of kids, you stayed on birth control.
For most of your life, you stayed on this one birth control, but due to a change in your insurance, it was a better option to switch to one that would be more widely covered. The switch wasn’t that big of a deal, it just made you much more tired, moody, hungry, and snippy. You also may have gained a few extra pounds on this new pill. 
“Darling,” Tom called for you once he got home from his meetings, “where’s my beautiful—” 
He shut up the minute he saw you sprawled out across the couch with a donut in your hand and powdered sugar on your face. He chuckled a bit to himself at the silly sight, but his heart swelled with love when he saw how peaceful you looked. 
However, it was a bit strange that you were so tired at only four in the evening. He set his things down and took the donut out of your hand before pressing a wet kiss to your cheek. 
He didn’t think anything of it after that. 
It was about a week later when he heard you in the bathroom crying. 
“Love?” Tom knocked on the door, “Are you okay?”
You sniffled and open the door yourself, “Yeah, I just dropped my favorite perfume.” You looked down at the pink glass vile smashed on the floor, the lovely scent of roses filling the bathroom. 
“Aw, I’m sorry,” Tom came in and bent down to help you pick it up. You let out another sob, causing Tom to look up and see the red puffiness of your cheeks and the tears streaming down them. “I can buy you some more.” He offered. 
“It’s not the same,” you sniffled and sucked in a shaky breath, “this is the one I wore to the Far From Home premiere. It’s special to me.” You whispered the last part because your crying was becoming too raw. 
“It’s okay, darling,” Tom tried to comfort you, reaching out to hold you.
“No, it’s not” You snapped before being reduced to tears again. 
Tom just bit his tongue and nodded before finishing picking up the glass. 
You snuggled up to him later that night like nothing happened. “Mmm,” You hummed as you wrapped your arms around him and nuzzled your head into his pec, “you’re so comfortable. I love you.” 
Tom smiled and pressed a kiss to your forehead, “I love you too. Are you feeling better?”
“About what?”
“That perfume?” 
“Oh, yeah. I guess it wasn’t that big of a deal.” You shrugged before grabbing the remote and putting on a show for you and Tom. 
Three weeks later, with tiny little incidents in between, is when it finally clicked for Tom. You were at his family’s house for a summer grill out to celebrate the end of the season. 
“(Y/N)!” Paddy gave you a huge hug when he saw you, “I’m sorry I missed your birthday last month, I got this for you.” He held out a stuffed panda with a red bow on it. You gasped and held the gift in your hand. “I know how much you like pandas,” Paddy smiled. 
“I do,” You sniffled, surprising the young boy and Tom and Harrison, who were by your side, “I can’t believe you remembered that.” Tom could see the tears building up in your eyes, but he didn’t get a chance to ask if you were okay before you pulled Paddy into a bear hug, “thank you so much, Pads. This is the best gift ever.” You said, wiping your eyes with your other hand. 
You took Paddy’s hand, missing the surprised look on his face, and walked to the backyard where the grill out was with him. 
“Dude, what the hell was that about?” Harrison nudged Tom. 
“What?” Tom jolted back to reality.
“(Y/N), she was super emotional over that toy,” Harrison nodded in the direction you went. 
“Oh yeah,” Tom shrugged, “I don’t know, she’s been a little extra moody lately. The whole past month actually.” 
“She cried at a dog food commercial the other day,” Harry butt in from out of nowhere. 
“She ate almost all of that cheesecake I made last week,” Sam also added. 
“She yelled at me for stepping on her white sneakers,” Tuwaine commented. 
“Actually, that’s pretty valid,” Harrison said, “those were new sneakers.” 
“Still hurt my feelings,” Tuwaine mumbled. 
“Do you think—I mean, she could be—you guys think that maybe she’s, y’know…” Harry trailed off, swaying on his feet. 
“What?” Tom looked at all the boys, who one by one grew big knowing grins on their faces. 
“Mate,” Harrison hit Tom upside the head, “she’s pregnant.” 
Tom choked on his beer at that, “W-What? No—no, she’s not. She would’ve told me...right? Right?” 
“Maybe she wanted to surprise you,” Harry shrugged. 
“All the signs are pointing to it,” Sam added. 
“I didn’t even leave a smudge on the sneakers, she was just being mean,” Tuwaine grumbled. 
“No,” Tom shook his head, “I mean she just—I’m pretty sure she’d tell me.” 
“Think about it, mate,” Harrison put his arm around Tom’s shoulders, “she’s been moody, hungry, snippy—has she been extra tired lately?” Tom thought about it for a moment before slowly nodding. Harrison snapped his fingers, “and the final cherry on top; she’s drinking water instead of the mimosas your mom made.” 
“But (Y/N) doesn’t even like alcohol,” Tom tried to argue, but Harry immediately shut that down. 
“But she loves mimosas.” He pointed out. 
“Oh my god,” Tom gasped as the gears in his head finally began to process the information, “s-she’s pregnant. Oh my god, I’m gonna be a dad.” He looked at the boys, who one by one nodded along with big smiles on their faces. That was the last thing Tom saw before he fainted. 
“What the hell happened to him?” You snapped at the boys while you ran your fingers through an unconscious Tom’s hair. 
“Oh, y’know,” Sam swayed on his feet, “just the news and all.” 
“What news?” 
The boys looked at each other and all sent you a collective wink before rushing out of the room. You looked suspiciously at the door they left out of but shrugged it off. You were much too tired for their antics. 
Tom slowly came to as you ran a cool rag over his face, “Darling?” He mumbled. 
“Tommy? You okay? What happened?” You asked softly as you inspected his now opened eyes, making sure his pupils weren’t messed up. 
 “I’m alright, just took a little tumble is all.” Tom shrugged. He decided to not tell you that he knew just yet. If you wanted to surprise him, then he wanted to see what you had planned. You probably put a lot of work into the surprise and he’d hate to be the one to burst your bubble and ruin all the hard work. 
“Are you sure?” You looked at him worriedly, “Did the boys do something to you?” 
“No,” Tom shook his head, “I’m fine, baby, I promise.” 
You reluctantly nodded, “Okay, but if you start to feel faint again then we’re going to the hospital, no exceptions.” You said sternly. 
“Mhm,” Tom nodded and pulled you down for a kiss, “of course.” 
Unfortunately for Tom, like the bundle of excitement and nerves he was, he began stocking up on baby clothes and stuffed animals. Every time he’d see something cute he’d be rushing to the cash register to buy it. All the boys were in on it too, sending you both lots of baby shoes and diapers, which Tom just so happened to always receive. 
But soon another month went by and you still hadn’t said anything to Tom about the supposed pregnancy and he was beginning to get too antsy. 
“Darling,” Tom kissed your neck as he hugged you from behind while you cooked pasta, “you look beautiful today.” 
“Aw, thank you,” You gushed, turning your head around to press a wet kiss to his lips, “miss you this morning.” 
“Sorry, I just went to the store with the boys,” Tom mumbled, running a hand over your stomach, confusing you slightly, but you didn’t say anything. 
“That’s nice,” You commented as you stirred your sauce, “did you find anything nice?” 
“Mhm,” Tom hummed, “in fact, I got something I think you’ll really like…” 
“Oh? What is it?” 
Tom had gone out that morning and picked up a newborn Spider-man onesie. Since you hadn’t said anything, he decided to take the initiative. You may have been trying to surprise him, but he realized that it was unfair to you to let you keep thinking he didn’t know. At least, that's how he reasoned it so he could show you all the cool baby outfits he got. 
Tom held out the plastic bag to you with a huge smile on his face, “Now I know you might be a little confused with how I knew to get this, but just know that I’m happier than ever right now, okay?” 
“Okay?” You nodded skeptically, opening the bag and taking out the red and blue onesie, no bigger than a kitchen dish rag. “What the—?
“Surprise!” Tom yelled, “I know, I know, there’s no way I should know and I tried to hide the fact that I knew, but you know how excited I get. And you didn’t say anything, so I decided to just get it out of the way, and I have a whole closet filled with toys and diapers and the boys got us little—”
“What?” You interrupted Tom’s rambling, and held out the onesie, “What are you talking about?” 
Tom’s smile faltered, “Y-You know, for the baby…” 
You looked shocked and curious at Tom and then back at the onesie. Then you said the worst thing Tom could hear at that moment, “What baby?” 
“O-Our baby…” Tom said slowly, “right?” 
“I’m not pregnant, Tom.” You tilted your head, “Why would you think that?”
Tom began to rack his brain for the signs of pregnancy he saw in you these past couple of months, “B-But you were so m-moody? And tired? And you cried at the dog food commercial and Harrison said—” 
“Baby,” You cut Tom off and held a hand to his cheek, wiping the stray tear he didn’t even realize had fallen, “I’m not pregnant, babe; I got on a new birth control. It’s just taking my body a while to adjust to the change in hormones.” 
“Are—are you sure?” Tom asked hopefully. 
You frowned, “I’m sure,” You nodded, pulling him in for a hug and letting him rest his head on your shoulder. “I’m sorry you got your hopes up. Are you okay?” You said, giving his head a scratch to soothe him. 
“I’m fine. It’s not your fault,” Tom sighed, “I was just so excited. I really wanted it to be true.” He sniffled. 
“Tom—” You pressed a kiss to his cheek, but he pulled away. 
“It’s fine darling,” Tom straightened himself out and let go of you, “it’s fine. I’m just disappointed is all.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead before sulking away. 
After a quiet dinner, you found Tom in the guest room, going through all the baby items. You watched from the doorway while Tom looked at the little pile of clothes and toys pitifully. 
“Hey, baby,” You said softly, taking a seat next to him, “I’m really really sorry. I didn’t realize you’d think that.” 
“It’s not your fault,” Tom said again, toying with the Spider-man onesie, “Harrison’s the one that put the idea in my head.” He chuckled bitterly. 
“Tom,” You sighed, resting your head on his shoulder.
“Y’know I was thinking of baby names,” Tom said, “I was thinking Parker for a boy, or maybe Theodore, but we’d call him Theo.” 
“I like that,” You smiled, “or maybe Finley, and we could call him Finn.” You picked up the little Spider-man onesie and inspected it yourself, “and for a girl?” 
“I’ve always liked the name Clara,” Tom said, “or maybe Annalise, but we’d call her Anna.” 
“I like the name Ophelia,” You added, “maybe we’d just called her O.” 
“Yeah,” Tom smiled at the thought, before frowning again and beginning to pack up the baby items, “maybe one day.” 
“Tom,” You grabbed his arm and stopped him, “it means a lot to me too. I want to do this with you. If you think you’re ready, then I’m ready.” 
“Really?” Tom’s eyes began to glisten, “Are you sure? Really, truly sure?”
“I’m sure,” You nodded, “I want to give you kids, Tom. I love you.” 
Tom grinned and held your face in his hands, planting kisses all over it, “I love you too. I love you, I love you, I love you. Are you sure this is what you want?” 
“I’ve never wanted anything more,” You smiled, “I promise.”
✧tags & moots✧ PERM
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reawritesthings · 18 days ago
tom holland posted a picture | tom holland
summary: four times that tom's friends posted a picture of you and the one time tom did.
word count: 4.9k
a/n: not entirely sure if i’m liking the way i wrote this but i really did enjoy writing it and i think i really tackled with the dialogue and tried to make it less descriptive /: | i really hope you all like it and please leave some feedback :’) | thank u to @hollandsmushroom & morgan for proof-reading and being an amazing human being
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| 1 - tuwaine just posted a video 
Into the floral vibe of spring, you tiptoed to reach up to the window ledge, eyes widened, hoping to see your hydrangea blossom. Instead, your gaze focuses on three grown men, aimlessly kicking the football into the fences that metaphorically reminded you that vacating here gives you the utensils needed at any request to survive a surprisingly well-kept bachelor pad. 
It’s been a hefty, unceasing month of constant dares, instagram lives and pretending to not be smitten by the owner’s eyes that remind you of polished amber in the first rays of dawn. You often kept your feelings to yourself, or anytime Tom came into the room, you weren’t brave enough to lock eyes with him as you would get a shiver that would race down your spine. 
You met Tom through Sam, you were invited to the screening of Homecoming when Sam almost begged you to join him. From that night, you became fast friends with his brothers and his best friends. 
Everyone loved the videos and pictures you would post about them, and often you would see many fans comment on how cute you would look with Tom. You never really saw yourself falling for him, well making a promise to Sam that you wouldn’t fall for any of his siblings. But that promise flew out the window the minute Tom spoke.
Flashforward half a decade, you easily accepted the invitation to Quarantine with the boys. They were in desperate need of a female figure to help them with basic survival skills. You did have a slight hesitation to be in the same household as Tom, but surely in a house packed with people, you wouldn’t even get the chance to be alone with Tom.
So you thought. 
“Tom. What are you doing here?” you reprimanded him for sneaking up on you. 
“I live here, actually.” Tom said, walking towards the fridge. “What are you doing?”
“Admiring the grass.” You rushed, giving him a simpered smile. 
“You good, Y/N?” Tom questions, as he rummages through the fridge. 
“Do you want to join us?” Tom asked, stuffing his nibbled fingers into his pockets. 
“I-I don’t play football.” You managed, barely a tremble to your voice to hide the rapid thudding of your heart. Your gaze falls on him, “I could make you guys lunch?” 
“I think we are ordering pizza.” He said, rocking back and forth on the heel of his shoes. “I can teach you. It’s a pretty straight forward game.” 
“I don’t have trainers.” You fake a sigh, as you drew your lower lip between your teeth.
“So those shoes you have on, the pair you and Harry stayed awake all night to get, aren’t trainers?” He tried to come to terms with the statement you gave him, almost laughing at the not so convincing shrug of guilt you gave him. 
“Exactly. See, you understand.” you said with a lopsided smile, coiling with the string from your hoodie. 
“Please.” Tom pursed his lip in a pout, and slowly tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, only to see your face all scrunched up. “C’mon, pretty girl.” 
pretty girl - the nickname became a feeling of warmth that wrapped around your heart, making the cosied up butterfly flutter freely when Tom wasn’t around. A ten letter word that lured you into a daydream of the two of you cosying up on the couch that was a few centimeters away from you, whilst Tessa rested at your feet. The word was thrown around constantly, but Tom always let it fall off his tongue at the right moment. 
You froze in your spot, clicking your fingers repeatedly as you pretended to look for something to break the awkwardness you gambled with. “Yes. Right, let’s go play football.” 
His stupid shit-eating grin that you accidently spotted whilst walking away gave you a rather unpleasant but smug feeling that this nickname would be used more often. 
“Ready when you are, pretty girl.” 
A couple of hours went by with total ease. As much as you hated the idea of interacting with Tom, it wasn’t that bad. You were a slow learner, not that Tom was complaining as he always drew a sly smirk whenever his hands touched your skin. The other boys often saw the two of you either break into a laugh when your foot didn’t collide with the ball or make longing stares at one another when the other wasn’t looking. 
After much practice, you decided that you needed a break to get back the strength to play a serious round, not that you were expecting to pick up some miracle, but the sluggish look on your face when Tuwaine came over made you turn the other way. 
“I’m resting.” you said, as you leaned your back into the moist grass giving Tuwaine a big smile when his frame blocked the sun. 
“We are about to start the game.” Tuwaine said, crouching down before he rips some grass. 
“We just agreed on a 10 minute break.” You whined, tangling your arms in front of your face. 
Tuwaine quickly looked over his shoulder, checking if the coast was clear and sprinkled the loose grass on your face. The taunted scream that left your lips left Tuwaine in fits of laughter. 
“What was that for?”
 “Breaks over, pretty girl.” 
Flustered, you picked yourself up and followed after him. “That’s not, you can’t—“
“— Did you say something pretty girl?” Tuwaine asked, teasing you about the now not so secretive nickname Tom has given you. You purse your lips together, and throw your head up high, ready to show these boys that they are messing with the wrong bimbo. 
“I’m slightly scared…” Harry said, feeling slightly uncomfortable as he watched you smear mud on your cheeks. 
“She’s not so pretty now.” Harrison chortled, earning a well deserved smack to the head. 
“Quit it.” Tom barked. “Do you really want her on your bad side? She almost knocked Harry out.”
“She’s your pretty girl, Tommy.” Tuwaine muffled, giving a quick glance at you attempting a push up. 
“Well, she won’t be if you guys keep teasing her with the name.” Tom says before blowing the whistle to begin the game. “You guys are awful wingmen.”
Soaking up the foul moments, the sun rays showed every flaw, yet only with open eyes did the boys tell that they wanted, almost desperately, for you to score a single goal. Tom bribed each of them to go easy on you, almost as if they were giving you every chance to score but somehow you just couldn’t. 
“I don’t think I’m any good at this.” You pouted, catching the boredom of his friends.
You started to feel guilty that you haven’t made any progress in the last hour. Suddenly, an idea sprung to your head. “How about we do penalties? If I miss all four goals, I’ll be in charge of laundry, and taking the bins out.” 
“I do have a lot of dirty underwear.” 
“Perfect. Tuwaine, you’re up.” You said sharply, clicking your fingers.
“Yes, pretty girl.” 
You ignored him, and focused your mind sorely on the goal. You gesture your hand to let Tuwaine know that you were ready, and kick the ball right into the post. 
“Harry, you're up.” You muttered. 
“You can do this, Y/N. Just focus on the open space.” Tom explained, giving you a sympathetic smile.
You let Tom’s advice soak up inside you, loosening your shoulders to ease the pressure off you. You closed your eyes, imagining that Harry wasn’t there and hit the ball at a slower momentum causing the boys to scream. 
You opened your eyes, and saw the ball inside the goal. You shot Tom a grin, whispering a thank you as he walked up to the goal. 
“You’ve got this.” Tom smiled and this time you imagined yourself and Tom laying under the stars, legs tangled as you both sip of cheap wine. Doing the same exact thing you did with Harry, you prepared yourself and suddenly heard a rather annoying buzz in your ear that took you off guard. 
“Holy fuck, Tommy.” you scream, running towards him. “Are you okay? I’m so sorry.” 
“I’m fine…” You weren’t stupid, and judging from the droplets of blood Tom wasn’t fine at all. 
“Can you stand?” You asked, and helped him up. “I’m really sorry Tom. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” 
“It’s fine, pretty girl.” He breathed. “It happens.”
“We should take you to hospital..” You said, after settling him down on the sofa. 
“Can I just have you as my nurse?” He chuckled, slightly wincing at the pain in his nose. 
You rolled your eyes at the comment, and took out your phone. “Should I say it’s Julius Pepperwood?”
“You seriously need to stop watching New Girl.” He started. “They will know that it’s a celebrity.” 
“Well, since my mum is a nurse and is also your nurse… I’m sure she will keep you out of harm's way.” 
“What are we waiting for? Let’s go.” Tom said in a hurry, and hung his arm tightly around yours. “Thanks, pretty girl.” 
“Anytime, Tommy.” 
It wasn’t until you were watching Tom sleep on the hospital bed that you had a chance to check social media. Your phone was flooded with new followers, comments and likes. You opened the Instagram app, to see a notification that Tuwaine has posted a video of you hitting Tom in the face with the caption, “I’m guessing it’s not coming home…” 
| 2  - harryholland64 just posted a photo
After a long day, you immediately crashed on the sofa once you finished the dishes, not even having the energy to go to your room. The boys insisted they needed some alone time and decided to go for a long walk, leaving you to catch up on some chores. Being the only girl in the house you rarely had time to relax, or even just have a moment of silence. So when the boys stumbled inside, laughs echoing throughout the house, you groaned into the pillow. 
“Y/N? We’re home.” Tom starts with a tilt to his head, making his curls fall out of the hoodie. You didn’t say anything, kept incredibly still until you heard clucking, followed by a series of shushes. A distressed look was painted on Tom’s face as you didn’t respond to his calls. 
“She might be asleep.” Harrison whispered, settling the chickens down on the island. “It’s better that she is asleep, actually. We have time to make a powerpoint presentation on why we bought chickens.” 
Little did they know that you were resting your body on the door frame, furrowing your eyebrows at the sight of all four boys struggling to come up with reasons. If you had to reward the boy with the best reason, it would go to Harry with no question. 
“I think we should call one predator.” You emerge from the hallway, grinning as you lean over to say hello to the chickens. 
“How long have you been standing there?” 
You snort. “A couple of minutes.” 
“So you aren’t mad that we spontaneously brought three chickens?” Harrison asks. 
“Nope. I think it will be quite cute to have some chickens.” you said, smirking at the power you held in a house that wasn’t even yours. 
A few days passed and you were very much attached to the chickens, more than boys expected you to be. They rarely even saw you for the majority of the day, and it was starting to take a toll on Tom and the boys couldn’t stand the groans. 
“Just go and play with the chickens with her?” Tuwaine said, pushing him away from the tv that he was blocking. 
“I tried.” He frowned, “She is too lovey dovey with Chestnut.” 
“The chicken? Your chicken?” Harrison reminded him, hoping that Tom would get the hint. 
“Do you think that she might actually like me?” Tom said with a wide grin, and before Harrison or Tuwaine could answer, he already left. 
As Tom made his way over to you and Harry, he nestled down between the two of you. Harry rolled his eyes at Tom, scooting over. 
“How are they doing?” Tom asked softly, “Are they eating well?”
“Chestnut just stole Predator's treat.” you said, laying your head on Tom’s shoulder. “You need to keep Chestnut in line.” 
When you finally got yourself into bed, you checked your phone to see if anything interesting was happening. You raised an eyebrow at the sudden trend of Predator and Chestnut. Confused as to why your chickens were trending, you went over to Instagram and saw that Harry had uploaded a photo. 
It was a photo of yourself and Tom cosying up with the chickens. You chuckled at the caption, “Predator and Chestnut in real life.” followed with a red heart emoji. 
| 3  - hazosterfield just posted a photo
It was the day of the ultimate marvel quiz that Tom planned to raise money for his charity. You were quite unsure if you wanted to be in the live, questions were already circulating about your romance with Tom and you didn’t want to make the whole live about you. With much debate, you decided to step back, and help Tom with the questions. 
Before starting the live, you all decided to stock up on food and drinks, preferably alcohol to get a slight buzz. Already on your third drink, Tom had to practically help you sit beside him. 
“For someone who doesn't want to be on live, you sure are going to bring attention to yourself.”  Tom chuckled, and wrapped you into a tight hug. “You need anything before we start?” 
“Hoodie.” You blurted out, grinning as you nuzzled your head into the crock of his neck. 
“You want my hoodie?” 
You nodded, “Yep.” 
Tom laughed, and carefully lifted you away from him so he could take his hoodie that was very much warm to you. “Here you go.” 
“S’cosy.” You hiccup, “It smells like you.” 
Tom shook his head and turned his focus back to the set up of the phone, making sure that everything was perfect and in reaching distance. “Okay. I think we are ready to do this.” 
“3, 2, 1… Hello Guys. Welcome to our live, and I hope you have all been studying.” Tom said into the camera, lowering his head to see the flood of comments come through. 
“Holy fuck, we have 500K watching?” You blurted out, swatting your hand to your mouth. 
Tom sends a nervous chuckle to the camera, looking over at your rather guilty face. You muffle the words sorry and he just laughs. 
“Sorry about that. Y/N has had far too many drinks.” Tom glanced back at you, as he watched you stuff an oreo into your mouth. “Let’s get back into it.” 
It had been quite the turn out, you noticed that Tom was so calm with the questions, as too prior he kept panicking about him messing some of the words up. Half way through the question, it began unnoticed that Tom’s hand found his way to yours. He didn’t even glance over at you, not even for a second but the constant grin he had on his face was enough to give you an answer. 
“I think we should take a pee break. I’ll be right back.” Tom wasn’t ashamed and ran to the nearest bathroom. Whilst Tom was away, you made a rather risky decision to entertain the peeps for now. You scooted your chair over, and began to read aloud some of the questions that had been asked. 
“Does Tom sleep in spiderman pjs?” 
You nodded, “He does.” 
“Y/N, what number of drinks are you on?” 
“6? I lost count.” You giggled. “Whooopsie.” 
“Who can down the most shots? You or Tom?” 
“Oh, Definitely me.” You grin. “Tom is a lightweight.” 
You were already getting so much praise from the live, sharing embarrassing stories about the boys. “It’s true. They all still think that Hannah Montana is a different person.” 
“I see someone's shyness has gone.” Tom laughed, and causally sat on your lap. “Did you guys miss me?” 
“They didn’t.” You poke his side, and Tom falls back into your old seat. “Let’s get back to the questions. What is Peter Parker’s locker number?” 
After the live was done, you all decided to celebrate with a Marvel marathon. You all were drunk and dramatically began to recite the words to Infinity War. Tom was sitting rather close to you, but when you felt a pair of arms shift you to his chest, you didn’t even hesitate and perfectly moulded into him. 
“You okay?” He asked as he started to comb his hand through your hair. 
“I am. Just a teeny bit sleepy.” You replied, wrapping your arm around Tom’s middle. 
“Get some rest. You had a pretty long day.” Tom said quietly. “Thank you for helping me with the live and for entertaining the fans. They love you, you know.” 
You didn’t know what to say to that, so you didn’t answer. You were scared to even check your phone as you knew that people would be commenting things about you and Tom. Within minutes of overthinking, your eyes started to feel heavy, and slowly you fell asleep. 
The next morning, you woke up to check on social media. Since you decided to shut your phone off completely to avoid the fans, you knew it was time to face the music. Strangely, you just got a notification that Harrison had posted a picture. 
Curious to see what Harrison posted, as he was quite particular with his posts you were surprised to see yourself tagged. “Even drunk,Y/N was the mastermind of the corporation.” 
It read and you smiled at the picture of you handing Tom the next question, with a gin glass held in your other hand. 
| 4  - samholland1999 just posted a photo
“My money’s on Y/N.” Tuwaine says. “And she has two older brothers.” 
Tom watched the smug look on your face as Tuwaine kept gloating about your skills in barbering. He hasn’t even seen you lift a razor before, so he wasn’t that annoyed yet. 
“Why don’t we just call Rachel? Make this whole thing live?” You suggest, grabbing Tom’s phone on charge, chuckling at his lockscreen. “Since when was Predator and Chestnut your lock screen?” 
Tom froze in sight. He exchanged looks with Harry who gestured to him to play it cool. “I just like the chickens.” If he was being honest, the chickens reminded him of the two of you. 
“Right.” You say, and opening up his Instagram. 
“How do we know if Rachel is awake?” Harry asked, shuffling around with the camera equipment. 
“I’m pretty sure she is awake. There’s no harm in trying?” You grin to yourself and prepare yourself for the live. 
“What’s the plan here, exactly?” Sam entered the kitchen, confused as he saw tons of barbering equipment scattered around the kitchen island. 
“We are going to cut Harry’s hair.” Harrison says with a soft grin, as he forces Harry onto the chair. 
“But his locks are beautiful.” Sam whined, and ran over to his brother. “Don’t let them do this to you.”
“I love those locks too but they need to go.” You laugh, prompting Tom to get ready since you guys were going on live. 
“Okay. 3.2.1..” You whisper, hitting the button. 
“Welcome. Hope you guys are doing well. It’s Tom, Tom Holland, and we are going to cut Harry’s hair.” Tom smiles, ruffling his brother's curls. 
As the comments flooded in, you quickly sent a text to Rach asking her if she would be willinging to help you guys out. Tom didn’t know that you had a close relationship with Rach, it mainly started when she caught you making googly eyes at Tom during an interview. 
“Rach says that she will join the live.” You smile shyly, giving an awkward wave to the camera. 
You stayed still, not really engaging with the questions about you and Tom as you were looking out for Rach’s username. After what felt like an hour, her name propped up on the screen, and you immediately requested her. 
When Rach finally accepted the requests, you made small talk as the boys were getting everything that they needed. 
“It’s a pretty straight forward concept, Tom.” Racheal begins to explain and you admired the way Tom’s eyes furrowed, as he carefully listened to every detail Rach was telling him. 
Everything was going great, the fans were loving the entertainment. Yourself and Tuwaine were dancing in the back, and Sam let out a cry each time a curl fell to the floor. 
“I think we should stop cutting off his curls.” Sam leaned in closer. His eyes flickered to the camera to see if people were agreeing with him. 
“I’m not. I’m just shaving the sides now.” Tom said quickly, lips coating each other as he tried to not go as high. 
“How long do you reckon this will take? I’m hungry.” You whispered, pulling on Tom’s jumper. 
“You just had lunch. How are you possibly still hungry?” 
“Harrison ate half my pizza.” You whined, shooting a glare to Harrison. 
“You offered it.” Harrison shrugged, going back to scrolling through Instagram. 
“I didn’t. It was on my plate, and I turned around for a second and it just went.” You pointed out. “You thief.” 
The bickering continued for a good ten minutes. The two of you were at it, getting way personal. Tom closed his eyes, stopping his action turning to face the two of you. “Hush you too. I’m trying not to cut Harry’s ear off.” 
“He started it.” You exclaimed. 
“Fuck off. I didn’t.” Harrison argued back. There was no way that the two of you were going to agree, so Tom decided to pick you up, throwing you over his shoulder and excused himself. 
You started to laugh, screaming to put you down. “Tom. Seriously? Put me down.” 
“Not until you make peace with Harrison.” Tom’s voice deepened which only made your giggles more frequent. 
“Fine.” You promised. “I’ll make peace with the pizza stealer.” 
“Pretty girl…” 
“Damn you.” You grimaced. “That word is banned.” 
“Nope. Go say sorry.” Tom smirked, watching as you walked towards Harrison. 
“Sorry, Harrison.” You told him. “I’m sorry that I called you a pizza stealer. I'll always give you a slice of my pizza.” 
“You are forgiven, pretty girl…” Harrison teased, and as deserved, softly smacked the back of Harrison's head. 
As the day came to an end, everyone was sitting around the living room watching reruns of Friends. You decided to check social media as you became quite a fan of the memes that Tom’s fans started to make. 
You noticed that you were tagged in a post again. You looked over at Sam who was the first to lock his phone. You curiously clicked on the notification and had a huge grin on your face as you saw a photo of Tom carrying you on his back with the caption, “Pretty girl is in trouble…” 
You locked your phone, turning to Tom. “I hate that you call me pretty girl.” 
“You love it really, pretty girl.” You laughed, then nuzzled into his chest. “Comfortable, babe?”
| +1  - tomholland2013 just posted a photo
Two months went by and things changed drastically. You would often find yourself tangled in the sheets with Tom, always wearing his clothes and secretly stealing a kiss when the boys weren’t present. You were pretty certain that the boys had no idea of your new situation with Tom, but if you didn’t know what you were, how could they know?
As your bodies hit the bare mattress Tom turns to you, eyes full with love, with a wide grin on his face. “I knew that I’d make you mine one day.” 
You slowly start to feel a burst of colour exposed on your skin, a burst of admiration. Then, you knew, it wasn’t just you having feelings for him, it was mutual. You locked eyes with him, your smile mirroring his. Tom rolls a little closer, lips meeting your temple. “What do you say? Will you be my girlfriend?” 
You pulled him into your arms, leaving only a fraction of space between the two of you. You were longing to express every single feeling you had, “I would love to be, Tommy.” 
“Good, because whenever you drool over me, I never know what goes on in that pretty mind of yours.” 
“I don’t drool over you.” You argue, ruffling his curls. 
“Yes you did.” He states. “When lockdown started, you barely said two words to me. I thought you hated me.” 
You pouted at Tom’s interpretation of you being shy, “I never hated you. I was just afraid to talk to you, I didn't know what to say to you.” 
“Hi? Would you like a cup of tea? You look insanely handsome today? “ And Tom went on, naming every possible way to start a normal conversation with him. 
“Alright. Alright.” You laugh, “Would you like a cup of tea?” 
“I’d love one.” Tom leaned in, and toyed with your lips. “I love kissing you.” 
You slowly melt into the kiss, leaving no air between the two of you. Your hands were roaming his curls as Tom made his way down to your neck. “So beautiful.” 
You grazed your lips, and regrettingly lifted his chin so you were staring into those whisken eyes that started this whole facade. “As much as I would love to, we need to go tell the boys that we are dating.” 
“I think they already know, pretty girl.” 
“Nonsense.” You state. “We have been so good at hiding this.” 
Tom raised his eyebrow, ready to prove his point. “Boys. You can come in now.” 
“What? Seriously?” 
The boys entered as if they were being convicted for a crime. They each stood there, and waited for one of them to break. 
“Blame Tom.” Harrison confessed first. 
“He told us the moment you held hands for the first time.” Harry butted in.
Tuwaine followed, “He told me the day you agreed to quarantine with us.” 
You shifted your body to face Tom, “Seriously? Tommy, you promised that we would tell them together.” 
“I couldn’t help it.” He said. “You were just too gorgeous not to ramble about. I wasn’t that bad.” 
“He was.” Sam laughed. “He almost made a plan.” 
“We made a powerpoint that night to remind him how stupid his plan was.” Harrison digged, sending a wink to Tom.
“I’m intrigued to know how you planned to get me to fall for you.” You laugh, as Tom buried his face in the crock of your neck. 
“No.” He mumbles. “It’s too embarrassing.”
“It can’t be that bad.” You say looking up to see the boy's reaction. 
“It’s bad…” Tuwaine whispered. 
“How bad?” 
It was bad but strangely adorable that Tom would go to this length just to get you to fall for him. Your favourite was definitely the chicken messenger approach, it was something so random but the thought of Predator handing you a note was too cute to pass up. 
“I’m certain that if this actually happened, I would be insanely impressed.” 
All four boys turned to face you, “Seriously?” 
You nodded, “It’s the thought that counts.” 
“Pretty girl..” Tom trailed, and pulled you in for a kiss. 
“Since we are confessing Tom’s sins, can I just say that pretty girl needs to go? It’s weird.” Tuwaine says gently, standing behind Sam as Tuwaine knew that you would kill him. 
“I love that nickname.” You frown but also chuckling at Tuwaine’s idea of protection. 
“It’s overused.” Harry joined in. 
“I accidentally ently called my mum pretty girl..” Harrison blurted out. “It was really awkward.” 
“Fine. I’ll call her that in the bedroom only.” Tom finally became present in the situation. You gave him a glare, removing yourself from his embrace. 
“Looks like pretty girl is angry.” Sam laughs, also earning a glare from you. “Noted.”
As you saw the orange rays change to a midnight blue, you were ready for this day to be over. Many confessions were made and somehow breakfast was going to be interesting. For a moment, you laid comfortably in Tom’s bed, soaking up the idea of now being his girlfriend. 
“Hey, babe?” Tom called from the bathroom.
“Can you send me that photo of us too with Predator and Chestnut?” 
“Sure.” You hummed, reaching for your phone. “How come?” 
“I just like it.” Tom shrugged, walking into your shared bedroom with just his boxers on. 
“All done.” You smiled and watched him jump onto the bed, curling right up to you. 
“I kinda want to post that picture of us..” 
“People will talk, Tom.” You loved how much Tom wanted the world to know but you weren’t ready. 
“Let them.” He said. “You are my girlfriend and my fans love you. You know they love you.” 
“I guess but, you sure you want to make things public?” 
“I haven’t been this certain about anything before.” 
You signed, “Let’s do it.” 
“Seriously?” Tom said, eyes lighting up like a child at Christmas. 
“Yes, pretty girl.” 
The next day you woke up to an empty bed. You reached over to check the time, and saw that Tom had broken the internet. Concerned, thinking that Tom spoiled something, you opened Instagram and saw a post having over 23 million likes. 
“I managed to get chickens and a girlfriend during lockdown, what about you guys?”
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thank u all for reading and it would be so wholesome if you could leave a comment, or reblog 🧡
stay safe :D
543 notes · View notes
lovewasted · 29 days ago
Tom going to the gym with you and he's too busy making threatening every guy who stares at you to actually work out
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warnings— overprotective!tom, maybe possessive!tom, language
notes— this was shit but
blurb sleepover (closed)
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that bloody treadmill.
tom's been sat on the weight lifting bench; not lifting a weight. too busy staring at the narc that's been eyeing you on the elyptical.
can't blame him, her ass looks s'pretty in those biker shorts
shutup, that's only your ass to look at div.
he internally battled with himself. whites of his knuckles evident, whilst his palms balled into fists. he will willing to sacrifice his own work out to help you, aware of how men react to a woman with little to no clothing on. but you were adamant on doing something for yourself, in the headspace to listen to any playlist that came to mind, calories shredding off in fits of sweat.
the middle aged man observed the small of your back, and the way the firmness of your cheeks built from the pace of your jog. or the way your chest bounced from the stomps of your tennis shoes against treadmill rubber.
tom wanted to fucking slam his face into the base of the elyptical, and make the creep beg for tom to let up.
worst part, he knew you were with tom. orbs not removing themselves the moment the two of you walked into the semi-packed gym together. causing a scene was out of the question, as he's on his feet shoving the man's shoulder, few grey hairs standing straight up on the backs of his arms. peering at tom in your aligning vision, results in you pressing the pause button on both the treadmill and the music icon on your phone.
"think you could stop staring at my girlfriend?"
tom's accent is thick and the glint in his features should make the figure he's hoovering over aware that if he doesn't get up in the next few seconds, tom is bound to perform what he learned in boxing class.
"m'not looking at her, she-"
"she nothing, walk away."
he wants no trouble, and is willing to pussy out and prance to the elyptical on the other side of the gym. stopping in his tracks, he knows tom could take him. muscles prominent and jaw clenched with ease.
"alright man! sorry."
"m' sorry too! m' sorry that you can't have my girl! and-and m' sorry that her ass looks perfect enough to touch but-"
his curls adorning the nape of his neck are strong with your warm breath. the male maneuvering past tom, overbearing with a grit of his teeth. your voice alone was enough to make him come down from the adrenaline high and defy the enlarged grimances of the gym customers. turning on his heels he grins, your mouth still and numb.
"lovie, uh... the perv was almost foaming at the mouth over you. had to say something..."
a sloppy grin splayed on the corners of your lips. delighted with his sudden flustered emotion. you throw your pair of warm arms about his neck, a peck landing place on his sculpted nose.
"just don't almost kill someone next time."
465 notes · View notes
veryholland · 27 days ago
souvenirs of the heart | tom holland
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SUMMARY: with tom back home, things couldn't be better – until an accidental discovery leads to an unplanned turn of events
WC: 3.3k | WARNINGS: none, except maybe a little suggestiveness towards the end | A/N: feels like ages since i wrote something that i actually published. thank you all for being so patient with me <3 side note: tumblr keeps clowning me, so if the paragraphs double or some are missing then i suggest reading on desktop, it should be fine there x
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“I can’t tell you how much I missed this.”
A warm smile plays on your lips as you lock the door behind you before turning around to take in Tom, the words painted by the deep timbre of his voice hanging in the air between you. It’s weird to see him like this again—at home, not just through the screen of your laptop sitting on his vacant side of the bed.
You’ve done this a couple of times before, but it’s never been this long and although you knew from the start that this is what his profession entails, it still doesn’t soften the burden of distance.
The rosy tinged light of nearing dusk flitters down onto his form standing in the middle of the living room, his gaze circling between the simple but meaningful things he’s missed so much while being away. His favourite mugs standing proudly on top of the kitchen shelf, one of his sweaters draped over the back of the couch—the thought that you must’ve worn it while he wasn’t home bringing a serene smile to his lips—and finally the pictures of both of you on the wall.
For almost seven weeks, the walls surrounding him were empty—blank and lifeless.
The walls at home aren’t. They’re bursting with life, the story of your love captured in different photographs adorning the otherwise blank space.
With a grunt, he falls back onto the couch, legs spread out dramatically. You sidestep your discarded shoes, intending to grab his duffle bag and take it upstairs to unpack for him like you always do so he can catch a break, but Tom objects with a disapproving hum. A dopey smile stretches out on his face as he opens his arms, motioning you closer by a subtle wiggle of his fingers.
“C’mere, let’s do that later. You have to tell me about everything I’ve missed. Did Harry finally chat up that girl at the pub?”
Cocking an amused eyebrow at him, you walk over to the couch. “Really? You haven’t been at home for seven weeks and that’s what you ask first?”
“Well, I placed a bet on it with Sam. I got to earn my keep.”
You snort. “Some brother you are. Let the boy have his share.”
One corner of his mouth lifts into a lopsided grin when he looks at you, shrugging halfheartedly. Tingles rush through your entire body when his gaze traces every feature of your face as if he’s committing it to memory, his grin slowly settling into a faint smile that makes his eyes shine.
The tip of his finger starts tracing the bridge of your nose and you scrunch up your face, making him chuckle. “You’re so fucking cute.”
With your fingers curling around his wrist, you stop his movement and guide his hand to your lips to place a sweet kiss on his palm. Tom’s still marvelling at the radiant smile on your face, still not realising you’re finally with him again—right here in front of him. It’s like someone found a long lost puzzle piece and placed it back to where it belongs, making his heart feel whole again.
Dusk starts to turn into night as you sit there, diving into tales of everything he’s missed, trying to include details that he hasn’t yet heard from you over facetime. His nimble fingers toy with your own and you chase after every touch he’s willing to give you, the thrill of feeling his skin on yours buzzing through your body.
Gradually, his amused comments recede into mellow hums before he eventually falls completely silent and the only audible sounds next to you are the soft snores passing his lips. You let your current story fade away into the serene tranquillity of the room, the blissful smile that’s been occupying your lips for the past few hours still adorning your features.
Smoothing your palm over the fabric of his hoodie, you let your eyes follow its path before you break away to take in the sight right next to you.
A few loose curls fall out from where they’re hidden underneath his hood, concealing his unruly eyebrow. His lashes rest gently atop of his cheeks, which are flushed from exhaustion and your heart warms at the thought of him finally getting that desperately needed rest.
For a moment, you let your head fall against his own, welcoming the comfort of his presence.
Only now, you start to notice how much you really missed the subtle, little things about him. How the fresh spring air clings to the fabric of his hoodie, mingling with his very own fruity scent. How his hands rest gently on top of your leg, longing for the physical contact you missed terribly over the past seven weeks. How the heat he somehow always radiates wraps itself around your skin like a blanket.
It takes a few attempts until you finally get yourself to separate from the warmth of his body and even in sleep his hand subconsciously chases after yours when you slip out of his grasp to drape a blanket over his legs.
The plush surface of the sofa dips slightly as you stand up and you’re careful to avoid any unnecessary noise as you sidestep the coffee table and make your way upstairs, Tom’s duffel bag heavy in your hand.
You push open the bedroom door with your free hand and your gaze immediately falls to Tom’s side of the bed. The thought of it not being vacant tonight makes a giddy smile appear on your face and you can feel your cheeks burning up with anticipation.
The nights without him have been the hardest. You were occupied during the day—running errands, meeting up with friends or spending afternoons at work. Granted, you deliberately loaded up your schedule more than necessary to avoid spending too much time in an empty house, but it worked for you. At least until the door clicked shut behind you every evening and the silence engulfed you once more.
Leaning forward, you unzip Tom’s bag and begin to unpack, humming a soft tune to yourself, a habit you found yourself clinging onto during the past few weeks whenever you wished for the silence to go away.
Fabric ruffles and hangers clatter when you sort and put away the clothes he took with him, making two different piles of laundry. Blindly, you reach around in the side pockets of his duffel bag, wanting to make sure that you didn’t miss anything when your fingertips connect with something.
You welcome the fluttering sensation of butterflies’ wings in your stomach when you realise it’s a folded picture of you and Tom still in college—the one he always carries with him when he leaves. Creases and lines litter the surface and you smile fondly at the thought of him unfolding it so often before you safely put it back into the drawer of his nightstand and turn back around, facing the mess of clothes on your bed.
The soft pink fabric caresses the palm of your hand as you untangle one of your favourite hoodies of his and pull it close to your chest, intending to add it to the laundry pile when something clatters to the floor.
You shuffle to the side, brows drawn together in concern when you search the floor, nerves coiling in your stomach as you desperately hope it wasn’t one of his watches. But the anticipated breath of relief gets stuck in your throat when your eyes find an entirely different item instead.
Right there, sitting on the plush white carpet was a dark blue velvet box.
It’s like an invisible force took your ability to breathe. For a second your world seems to have stopped spinning. Slowly, you put the hoodie that you’re still holding tightly against your chest aside and bend down to pick it up. Shaky hands enter your own vision and you stop once more to force a breath down your lungs in order to calm yourself. You’re jumping to conclusions and you know it.
With the tip of your finger, you trace the velvety surface of the box. Although it’s light in weight, it sits heavily in your palm, the knowledge that you weren’t supposed to find this weighing down on you.
Blindly reaching backwards, eyes never dropping focus, you sink down onto the bed’s edge. Carefully, you cradle the box in your hands to look at it properly. It could bear anything inside. It’s without any doubt a ring box, but that doesn’t have to mean anything—right?
Although the only way to find out, the only way of getting rid of the nagging curiosity looming in the back of your head, would be to just open it, you somehow can’t get your fingers to move and execute the action. The simplicity of it is taunting you, but still, there’s something stopping you. And although you’re not opening it, you somehow know exactly what you’re holding in your hand right now—your future.
“Baby, did you already take my–”
His gravelly, tired voice fades into silence as he stops short in the doorway, sleep-ridden eyes suddenly wide awake when they connect with yours before dropping down to your hands dauntingly slow.
“I’m so so sorry,” you start, scrambling to apologise, the box now burning your palm, flames of shame licking at your skin. You dive into a messy explanation of how it fell out, standing up to point towards the bed where all his clothes are spread out and you ramble on, not noticing how he slowly moved towards you.
He’s right there when you turn around and the words that were about to tumble off of your tongue, fade into thin air. His gaze isn’t on you when his hands envelop yours holding the box and for the first time in your life you can’t place the look in his eyes and it makes you feel terribly helpless.
With an indescribable tenderness, his thumbs brush over the back of your hand and although he seems to be needing a short moment to collect himself, calming the worries in your mind is still his utmost priority.
“Oh, darling.” A breathy chuckle flits out of his lips and you welcome it like a lifeline thrown out into the raging sea. The vice-like grip around your heart immediately lessens and the uncomfortable feeling fades away completely when his soft brown eyes finally meet yours.
With a dazzling smile that makes his dimples appear, he softly brushes wisps of loose hair out of your face, his eyes following the trace of his fingers before they settle on yours again.
“What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t bring my lovely girlfriend a souvenir after weeks of being away, huh?”
His nimble fingers fumble with the box in his hands and with his eyes cast down again, his eyelashes feather over the top of his rosy cheekbones.
“I bought this two days after I left,” he starts with a tilt of his head, making his rumpled curls fall into his forehead. Your hands make contact when both of you try to brush it back at the same time and he smiles up at you, withdrawing his hand to let you do it.
“Two days is nothing compared to the seven weeks I spent away but it was all I needed to realise that I don’t want that.”
His words make your nerves bubble up again, but when he notices, his smile immediately transfers into an alarmed expression, realising he’s ushering your thoughts in the entirely opposite direction. “I don’t want it, darling,” he clarifies with an expression bearing so much comfort. “A life without you in it—a place without you isn’t home. This place without you wouldn’t be home.”
He laughs with a gentle shake of his head, motioning downwards and your eyes follow his hands’ path to take in how he’s looking right now. Creases, which the long flight and nap on the couch are responsible for, tear through his hoodie’s soft fabric. His favourite washed jeans are sitting low on his hips, hems unevenly cuffed. His curls are a tumbling mess but you adore the natural state they’re in right now. Soft and untamed.
You couldn’t care less that he’s not wearing a suit right now. That his hair isn’t coiffed to perfection. That you’re standing in the midst of your bedroom. This version of him is your favourite. Tender smile, tired eyes, comfy clothes. This is him at home and you love it.
“It takes no genius to figure out that this isn’t how I planned this to go, but now that I think about it, it’s kind of perfect. It’s unplanned and that’s how it all started.” His eyes drift over your face, then his fingers follow, brushing loose tendrils of hair aside with a lover’s touch. “Meeting you because you barged into my college dorm, thinking it was your friend’s, was unplanned. Kissing you for the first time because you’re too adorable not to when you’re rambling, was unplanned—falling in love with you was unplanned but it’s the best turn my life ever took and I’ll spend the rest of my days being grateful for that.”
His eyes never leave your face, his gaze tracing every detail of your reaction, when he slowly turns the box around so it’s facing you. Tears blur your vision, but you blink them away quickly and out of the corner of your eye, you can see him slowly opening the box. Still, your eyes still refuse to leave his, finding comfort in the warm specks of gold dancing through his brown orbs like fireflies in the dark of the night.
I love you, he mouths and you respond with a wobbly smile before your gaze finally drops down.
It’s beautiful. Dazzling. Delicately woven lines of silver imbed a dainty diamond in their centre and you’re mesmerised by the way it catches the smallest flicker of light in its core. Your eyes are drawn to it for a moment longer until you catch Tom fidgeting on his spot. In a mere fraction of a second, your gaze flits up back to his face just in time to catch him nervously trapping his bottom lip between his teeth.
“Do you—” He cocks his head with a nervous smile. “Do you like it?”
The smile on your face mixes with the few tears that spill over when you nod, not believing that this moment is real. If you had control over your own movements right now, you’d pinch yourself, but you’re still frozen in place, realisation only slowly setting in.
“It’s perfect. This is perfect. And I wouldn’t want it any other way, Tom.”
A breath of relief tumbles out of his mouth and both of your airy laughs mingle to form a beautiful melody.
“My whole life, I’ve been waiting for you. Now I’m asking you if you want to spend the rest of our lives together.”
His hands envelop your own and his eyes dip down quickly to watch his thumb brush over your bare ring finger. The nerves are visible on his face and you smile before laying your palms on his cheeks to tilt his head up so your eyes connect. Only the ridiculously small gap separating you, allows him to catch the breathy words escaping your parted lips.
“Ask me,” you whisper, knowing that the answer to a question not yet voiced is already lingering among those five letters.
Gratitude shines in his eyes when he realises what you’re doing and his now soothed nerves finally allow him to ask what has been dancing on the tip of his tongue for a very long time. “Will you marry me?”
Mid question, you already started nodding and your tears fully spill over when you watch his entire face light up before he gathers you in a crushing hug, his arms winding around your waist to anchor you to him. This is what home feels like.
His shaky breath of relief fans over your neck when he tries the words out on his tongue. “You’ll marry me.”
You keep clinging to him when you nod once more.
“Say it,” he pleads and the words come so naturally to you, you feel like they always belonged.
“I’ll marry you, Tom.”
“You’ll marry me,” he repeats with a trembling voice, almost as if he still hasn’t realised it. After placing a kiss on your neck that’s so feathery and soft you barely notice it, he pulls back, and your heart tumbles about in your chest when you spot a few tears of his own leaving a shimmery path on his rosy cheeks.
Putting the box aside, he takes your left hand in the warm palm his bigger one with an underlying tenderness that makes your heart flip inside your chest, before carefully slipping the ring onto your finger. Teary-eyed but with a smile so big it makes your cheeks hurt, you wiggle them around a bit, watching how the dainty diamond catches the mellow light in the room, intensifying its silvery glow.
“It looks gorgeous on you,” he mumbles, his fingers curling around your neck to guide you closer to him. Adoration lights up his brown orbs when he drops a sweet kiss to your forehead but instead of pulling back, his lips linger near your skin, feathering over your temple, your cheek and finally the corner of your mouth where he leaves another kiss that makes your heart soar.
Cheekily, he nips at your bottom lip with his teeth, coaxing a smile from you that he immediately returns. And when his lips finally cover yours, it feels like he’s giving back a piece of you that left with him, allowing you to come up for air after a long time of being underwater.
With reluctance stalling his movements, he pulls back from you slowly, looking down at you through hooded eyelids while his lips settle in a mischievous smile. A cheeky blush creeps its way onto his cheeks and you’re about to ask what’s that smile for when words of his own fill the silence.
“You know,” he pauses to try and hide his bold smile but fails miserably. “That’s not the only souvenir I brought.”
The back of his hand brushes over the front of your tummy when he bends sideways and reaches into his bag. You watch with your brows drawn together in curiosity and your lips part with an incredulous exhale when he lifts his hand again, revealing a snowy white set of lingerie dangling from his long fingers.
A burning blush works its way across your cheeks and Tom watches with amusement clear in his gaze. His hand is still splayed out on the small of your back and he nudges you even closer to his front, making both of your bodies sway from side to side. Movement accompanied by an incredulous chuckle, your hands brush over his pecs before they find purchase on his broad shoulders to help and steady you before you lift your gaze again.
“You’re not as sneaky as you think, Holland.”
“Oh but I am,” he quips, before leaning closer so his lips brush over the shell of your ear. “Holland.”
Your heart sets out for a beat or two when your soon-to-be last name rolls of his tongue like he’s been waiting to call you that for a long, long time. Shivers ripple down your spine in pleasant waves and with a huff, your hand wraps around the lacy material in his hand. He lets it slip out of his grasp with ease, the eagerness in his expression making you snicker.
“Wait here.”
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if you made it to this point, i'd be incredibly grateful if you shared your thoughts with me <3
TAGLIST: @annathesillyfriend @thsquad @lovehollandy12 @cherienymphe @watermelonsugarsigh @celestialholland @heavenlyholland @earthlyholland
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t-lostinworlds · 6 days ago
Tee, Tease & Taint (Tom Holland)
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A/N: SHE IS FINALLLY HERE!! feel like i lost my sanity writing this lmao 😭 anyhow, this idea was random & super last minute thanks to all the content we were blessed with. this is the longest but also fastest longest fic i have ever written and idk if that makes this good or bad asdfghjkl + i rarely (like once a year) write explicit smut. what i’m trying to say is don’t expect much lmao. anyhow! grab some snacks and lots of water and i hope you enjoy this extremely spicy fic (2021 edition) <333
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》 PAIRING: golfer!tom holland x female!reader 》 TROPE/GENRE: established relationship; fluff; smut 》 SUMMARY: Watching Tom play golf all while he looked gorgeous in his outfit was putting you in a certain mood. But the thing with being more inexperienced than your boyfriend, you find it a little hard to simply speak what you want. So, you found it best to tease him until he takes matters into his own hands. 》 WARNINGS: so. much. teasing (like a lot), golf!tom (too much of him), talks and playing of golf (i did my best to be accurate but still), angry!tom (in a hot way this time ahah), tom being an ass man, language, sexual innuendos & jokes, business behind a bush (just weeing lmao), fluffy and cute moments, teasing from the boys at the end, meh writing of smut, Explicit Content (18+) [MINORS DO NOT INTERACT PLS!] ~ extended warnings below the cut! 》 WORD COUNT: 21.2k+ (she thicc like tom’s 🍑 lol)
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⊱ ─────.⋅♚ *。・゚.★. *。・゚✫*.
⚠️SMUT WARNINGS: *inhales* inexperienced reader (mentions of tom taking her virginity, some firsts here too), dom/sub dynamic, dom!tom, tom likes to bite, one (1) thigh pinch, pet names (angel, sweetheart, darling, [my] love & pretty boy), exhibitionism (? only tom sees it), dirty talk (tom’s mouth needs a cleanse lol), slight thigh riding, positions (doggy style, bodyguard), heavy praise kink, sir kink, corruption kink (kinda), quick/unfinished masturbation (reader & tom but both by tom), slight edging, spanking, fingering, gloved hand over mouth, pinky ring x rolex, protected sex (wrap it b4 you wack it [in] lol), “quickie” (bc 6k lol), semi-public sex (fancy bathroom, they don’t get caught), mirror sex, rough sex, soft & sweet after care *exhales* 
+ pls let me know if i missed anything bc this is genuinely the filthiest fic i have ever written so i’m not sure if i got most of the warnings right sksks now. enjoy reading asdfghjkl
.✫*゚・゚。.★.*。・゚♛ *.
Tee, Tease & Taint
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From the very first tee, you'd been such a tease towards Tom the whole day, your mind gradually getting taint, each tempt getting more and more daring than the previous as you progressed down the course one hole at a time.
It was exhilarating, getting to push his buttons in the most subtle ways that nobody else would know what you were up to but him and him only.
To the untrained eye, the gentle, loving kiss you'd give him after each swing wasn't short of you silently yet affectionately telling him he did a good job or he can do better next time. What they didn't see was the soft swipe of your tongue against his bottom lip every. single. time. your lips would touch.
Nobody batted an eye when Tom situated himself behind you, hands on your hips to correct your posture, his whole body engulfing you from behind as he guided you how to swing with the right amount of strength and momentum. It was a simple act of your loving boyfriend teaching you a thing or two with regards to playing the sport he clearly knows more of. But nobody noticed the way his grip would tighten when you move a little too far back than needed, pressing yourself against his front with a tiny wiggle as you pretend to fix up your stance.
You were finishing up the 6th hole when you found yourself in the same position with him again, his warmth coating every inch of you as his hot breath tickled the spot right below your ear.
"Don't test me, darling," Tom grumbled, fingers pressing against your hips in warning when you wiggled your bum, the space between your back and his toned chest already close to none.
"What? Are my legs too far apart?" you asked innocently, shuffling on your feet, moving even further back and then slightly bending over which made you hit the jackpot.
Tom sucked in a breath, his head dropping to land on your shoulder as he gripped your hips firmly to stop you from causing more trouble than you'd already done. The fire in your stomach could only grow once you felt it behind you, semi-hard yet perfectly positioned for you to make out the shape.
Tilting your head to the side, you hummed, "Or are they not far apart enough for your liking?"
Tom chuckled at that, but the sound came out deep, guttural almost, and laced with pure warning. He gave your clothed shoulder a swift peck as he shook his head at you, a tell-tale sign that he did get your innuendo, but he wasn't too amused about it.
His hands went from your hips to cover your own, his Rolex glinting under the sunlight due to movement, his gloved hand feeling just as warm as his bare one. His strong and toned arms were caging you in a way, the sight of his veiny forearms paralleling yours quite attractive as both of you now held the grip of the club. Leaning closer, he kissed your cheek sweetly, softly, before he rested his chin on your shoulder.
"What game are you trying to play here, sweetheart?" Tom asked, voice gravelly, a stark contrast to his gentle affection beforehand. In case his tone wasn't enough to indicate how he was slowly losing his patience with you, the term of endearment was definitely an added touch.
Tom only ever calls you 'sweetheart' when you're acting the exact opposite.
You bit the insides of your cheeks to stop your grin from growing, purely amused at the fact that Tom always manages to easily catch onto whatever it was you were trying to do.
He's just an attentive boyfriend like that.
But you weren't going to reveal everything to him just yet. It was still early, the sun just starting its course on the blue sky above in this beautiful morning. Plus, dragging this on for a little while was much more fun, exciting. Getting to test just how far you could push Tom to his limit was simply adding to the thrill. So, seeming unfazed, completely ignoring his fair warnings, you shrugged,
With that, you swung, moving Tom's arms with yours. A soft clink rang in the air, your ball teetering at the edge for a few seconds before it fell into the cup.
"Good job, love," Tom praised with a kiss on your cheek to match, pride obvious in his tone. Still, you could hear the hint of displeasure too, at how you technically answered his question, but cleverly avoided it at the same time.
You turned around in his hold, kissing him on the lips sweetly as a form of appreciation. Pulling away, his gloved hand went to rest on your waist while the other took the club from your grasp as you handed it to him. With your hands now free, you smoothed it over the collar of his polo shirt, leaning forward just so you could place a warm, teasing peck on the juncture between his neck and jaw.
"Got the best teacher," you hummed with a sly smirk, your eyes coated by a mischievous glint as it locked with his. You threw in a wink for good measure, hinting that you meant more than just in golf.
Tom did pop your cherry, after all.
His eyes darkened slightly, his fingers tightening around your waist but before he could even get a word out, you pulled away from his grasp. You bent over to take your ball out of the cup, not sparing him a glance as you giddily skipped towards the golf cart to wait for him to finish his turn.
When you finally look back at him, Tom stood still exactly where you left him, his glare not leaving your direction for a few seconds more before he rubbed his palm over his face with a deep breath.
He was grumbling, words you didn't catch as he moved further away from where the golf cart was parked and towards his ball to finish this round. But you didn't need to know what it was he said, the deep furrow in his brows and the hard clench of his jaw was enough proof that he wasn't pleased with whatever game this was you were setting in play.
That only thrilled you more.
It went on like that as you progressed down the course, each tease getting bolder as the number of the hole got higher.
Since you don't play the sport often, it was a given that you didn't have the proper skirt conveniently stored in your closet. So, you settled for a pleated, mini, black skirt, one that stopped just on your upper thigh. You had it paired with a plain, white polo shirt—quite similar to what Tom was wearing—tucked in to look the part.
It was a simple outfit really, but it still earned quite the stare from Tom the second he saw you in it. And whenever you'd move past or walk in front of him, you could just feel his gaze burning through you. A sense of confidence and pride would always fill you up whenever you catch him red-handed, his eyes lingering a little too long at your legs or at your bum.
You were making your way to the tee box on the 8th hole with Tom trailing behind you. He was walking unusually slow, your brows furrowing in concern as you peered at him over your shoulder. You couldn't stop your laugh once you saw how his gaze wasn't at all focused on the path, his head tilted just slightly to the side.
"You'll trip if you keep that up," you called out.
Tom's eyes snapped up to meet yours, pink immediately dusting his cheeks. Yet a wide grin grew on his lips when you raised a knowing brow at him.
"Yeah, yeah, you caught me," he admitted. He tilted his head again, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth, brown eyes scanning you from head to toe, trailing back up and stopping momentarily on your bum before he met your gaze. His grin widened as he added shamelessly, "I just can't help checking my gorgeously beautiful and hot girlfriend out."
The butterflies in your stomach went haywire, heart flipping inside your chest as the heat quickly covered your face before spreading down your whole body. Never will you ever get used to the way Tom praises you like you're—in his words—the most beautiful goddess he has ever laid eyes on.
You also couldn't help but roll your eyes heavily at his boyish antics, though.
Tom chuckled at that, his smirk turning cocky as he took large steps to catch up with you, arm hooking around your waist once he reached your side.
"Don't act like I don't notice you staring at my bum, too, darling," he hummed against your ear, kissing your temple and squeezing your waist before moving swiftly to walk in front of you. He made sure to send you a wink over his shoulder as he patted his hand on his back pocket—practically tapping his round ass—before he took his golf glove out, so obviously making a full show out of it.
And well, you really couldn't argue his claim.
The wind today was mostly scarce, coming and going in small gusts which you were thankful for. It made it easier to keep the light fabric of your skirt in control, saving you from spending most of the time with your hands on it to keep it down. It would've been a lot easier to have worn the proper getup, but with your ever bubbling mood at the moment, the skirt definitely provided more advantages than not.
When you were sure nobody was behind you but Tom, you'd go and pick up your ball—or the tee—with a bit of an exaggeration, bending over for your skirt to hike up just a little to let his imagination run its course, to keep him guessing what pair you were wearing underneath or if you were even wearing anything at all. The sharp, warning glare he'd throw at you when you met his eyes again was the only needed proof for you to know it was working.
You did it again after finishing up the 8th hole, yet this time when you went to bend over, an unexpected gust of wind suddenly caught your skirt. Given that his attention was fully on you, Tom didn't miss a second to stand right behind you to cover you up, both his hands immediately holding the fabric down.
"Thanks, handsome," you said, turning your body slightly so you could place a kiss on his cheek. With his baseball cap casting a shadow on his face, only then did you notice how his features were already tainted crimson red. You bit your bottom lip to stop your smile, heart racing at the fact that he must've caught sight of what you were sporting underneath.
But apparently, he didn't. It was probably too short of a glimpse, not enough for him to discern a proper conclusion since he suddenly asked,
"What are you wearing under this?"
You kept your gaze steady on the side of his face, unable to comprehend what was running through his mind since his head was hanging low. His eyes were trained on his fingers as they toyed with the hem of your skirt, his other hand brushing against your bare thigh before he placed it on your waist.
You smirked, Tom's eyes snapping up to meet yours when you purred,
"That's for me to know and for you to find out."
You genuinely thought he was about to pop his jaw out with how hard he clenched it at your words. His eyes suddenly grew dark but you couldn't pinpoint if it was more anger or hunger that swirled in his brown hues. Either way, it made your stomach flutter in excitement, his glare only spurring you on as you placed a swift yet taunting kiss on his cheek, escaping his grasp before he could interrogate you any further.
But whenever you two were sitting in the golf cart was when you really got to test Tom's patience.
The simple fact that everyone was required to be in pairs in the two-seater vehicles gave you the perfect opportunity to be a little more daring with your advances.
Harrison and Harry were having their go, well underway onto the 9th hole. With the sun on its peak at this hour, you and Tom opted to stay in the golf cart as you waited for both your turns, sitting side by side for some much-needed shade.
You hadn't stopped teasing Tom all the way here, so you weren't surprised to see it slightly showing against the material of his trousers. It wasn't fully there but you could still make out the lovely shape you were slowly coming to memorise. It was doing unspeakable things to your body, your mind getting more and more tainted whenever you catch a glimpse of it. And with your ever-growing mood to keep this teasing game going, you just couldn't help yourself.
With a loud, exaggerated sigh, you rested your head on his shoulder. Tom's eyes didn't leave the lads in front as he instinctively hooked his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to his side with a soft kiss landing on your forehead.
Innocent, that was probably what he thought your action was, him thinking that maybe you were simply tired. But you were quick to change his mind the second your hand moved to rest on his knee.
"Darling, what're you up to?" he asked, squeezing your waist as cautionary when your hand continued its way up his thigh.
"Hmm?" you hummed, feigning innocence as your hand trailed up, up, up and—
"Y/N," Tom warned through gritted teeth when you pressed your palm on his bulge lightly and only briefly before you immediately pulled your hand away.
"Oh, sorry, I thought that was still part of your thigh," you teased, curling your fingers around said thigh—well, as much as your fingers could hold—squeezing it as you added, "I mean, they're practically the same thickness if I'm being honest."
"You're being clever with your quips today," Tom chuckled darkly, removing his arm around you just so he could drape it over your crossed legs. His fingers started drawing patterns on your bare thigh then, his head moving from left to right before you suddenly felt a sharp pinch on your skin.
You squeaked, pulling your head off his shoulder to look at him with a pout. Tom merely raised a brow at you in challenge, his temper slowly revealing itself in his eyes, his lips pressed tightly into a thin line as he ran his palm over the spot to gently soothe it.
The pinch was a heavy warning, but as you'd said from the very beginning, you were feeling quite daring today. And every time he'd show any hint of displeasure, it only made you want to defy him even more.
"Do you not like when I stroke your ego?" you asked as you held his gaze, his jaw clenching when your hand ghosted over his bulge again, touch barely even there yet enough for him to be aware of it. But still, you could feel him gradually grow, even more so when you started to run the tips of your fingers up and down the length. "Or do you want me to stroke something else?"
He let out a harsh breath through his nose at your innuendo, brown eyes growing darker as your hand continued to tease. Yet he didn't make that much of an effort to stop you either, an indication that he was enjoying it, even if only a little. But just as you added a bit more pressure, Tom squeezed your thigh in warning, his other hand going to hold your chin. His irises flickered between lust and anger, the rough pad of his thumb brushing over your bottom lip as he grumbled,
"Behave yourself or else."
You kissed his thumb tauntingly before leaning even closer to brush the tip of your nose against his. You dropped your gaze on his lips, blatantly staring at it for a good few seconds before you met his darkened eyes again.
"Can I choose or else?"
"Y/N! It's your turn!" Harry called out.
You pulled your face off of Tom's grasp as you turned towards the younger Holland, shoving a thumbs-up in the air to tell him you were on your way. You hopped out of the golf cart without a single word, brushing down your skirt before moving towards the back where Tom's golf bag was kept.
But you stopped in your tracks when you noticed how your man was simply sitting there, arms draped over the steering wheel as he leaned forward. His eyes were screwed shut as his chest heaved with deep breaths, an obvious attempt of him trying his best to calm himself down.
Smirking, you purred, "You gonna come?"
Tom dropped his head at that, tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth. He nodded slowly with deep, rumbling chuckles, showing you that the double entendre you made didn't go unnoticed but oh was he unhappy about it.
The second he met your eyes again, you instinctively pressed your thighs together once you felt yourself pool in between, swallowing the lump that was so quick to grow in your throat.
You're definitely in trouble now.
His glare was searing, lethal but in an electrifying way that instead of cowering under it, you only felt drawn, more turned on. It was clear on his face how the gears in his head were turning, and with the way his eyes raked your body from head to toe, slowly yet hungrily, as if he was a predator examining his prey, you knew he was thinking about all the things he wanted to do to you to put you back in your place.
And oh do you want to experience every. single. one.
Tom was making it very loud and clear with one simple look that you better know the full scope of what you were getting yourself into, know exactly how the rules go in this game you've been so eager on playing.
You stood frozen in your spot when Tom got out of his seat, rounding the golf cart until he was right in front of you. His eyes never left yours as his hand came up, stroking your cheek with the back of his fingers affectionately yet tauntingly as it followed the curve of your face. The deep swirls of anger and lust in his eyes were alluring, his touch enchanting you despite it feeling so soft, like mere butterfly wings brushing on your skin.
Tom placed two fingers under your chin with a low hum, your lips unconsciously parting as you got lost in the trance he put you under. He ran his thumb over your mouth before he slipped the tip in, only briefly before he immediately pulled it away.
His deep chuckle followed the soft whine you emitted, Tom humming proudly at the mere fact that no matter how brave and daring you get, at the end of the day, he could easily have you under his control, have you wrapped around his fingers with close to no effort at all.
You gasped in surprise, your stomach churning in the best of ways when Tom suddenly gripped your jaw, firm enough to give you a warning but not for it to hurt. He tapped his finger on your cheek, pressing lightly before he answered your question,
"Oh you'd love to see that huh, you little minx?"
He pulled his hand away then, moving swiftly past you, freeing you from the spell he so effortlessly got you under.
It was a second or two later until you got a hold of yourself again, senses slowly coming back as you took a deep breath and turned to your man.
He was standing behind the golf cart now, a giggle escaping your lips once you saw him adjust his boner as discreetly as he could. Tom's head shot up at the sound, meeting your eyes with a pointed glare before he looked away, rummaging through the clubs to pick the right one for you to use.
You genuinely wanted to give yourself a physical pat on the back at how much bravery you've got in your arsenal today. Maybe it was the fact that you know Tom could never hurt you, so there was no ounce of fear present in your bones no matter how heated he gets. Maybe it's the way he just looks even more attractive when he's angry with his face all flushed and that ever so lovely jawline in full display.
Or maybe it was a culmination of both.
Either way, despite how palpable Tom's anger was, you found yourself moving closer to his side. Better yet, you found yourself wrapping both your arms around his torso as you rested your cheek on his shoulder.
It was like you were a moth, unashamedly drawn to his blazing flame.
"I definitely would love to see that," you agreed, moving even closer just so you could whisper in his ear, "Because you're such a pretty boy when you come."
You immediately took a step back when the golf club Tom was holding tumbled from his grasp. It landed on the metal part of the cart, a loud clang ringing in the air which didn't go unnoticed by the two lads who were patiently waiting on the green.
"You alright there, Tom?" Harrison called in concern, probably noticing how tense his friend had gotten.
Tom exhaled harshly through his nose, and like the best actor that he is, the anger on his face disappeared when he turned to Harrison with a wide smile. "Yeah! Just trying to fix something!"
"Oh no," you hummed sadly, crossing your arms over your chest as you stood beside him. Tom's head snapped in your direction, the fire in his eyes already back to full-on blazing when he saw you glance at his raging boner pointedly. Locking your gaze back with his, you smirked, "But how are you going to fix that here?"
You didn't know that it was possible for the anger in Tom's eyes to burn brighter but oh did it burn brighter.
"You're an absolute menace."
"Yeah, maybe I am," you giggled with shrugged, merely flashing him a sweet, innocent smile with a swift kiss on his cheek to match. "But you love me, so."
Tom's anger faded a little, only a little, as he sighed, "You're killing me, love, you know that?"
Your smile grew wider, and maybe you are in fact a menace when you merely responded with,
"Nah, I don't think me giving you blue balls will kill you."
With that, you took the club and skipped towards where the boys were standing, escaping the lion's den but not before hearing the low, frustrated growl that roared out of Tom's chest.
From then on, his frustration started to affect his game.
The fact that he was already infuriated, him playing badly did nothing more than add gas to the flame. Then it turned into this growing cycle. It was like he was a bubbling furnace, just dangerously waiting for that single spark to make him explode.
So, you found it best to give him a breather for the rest of the 9th hole, resulting in peppering him with sweet and gentle affections to slowly put out the fire that no one else set ablaze but you.
Harrison and Harry had gone ahead towards the 10th, leaving you and Tom behind since it was taking a bit longer for you both to finish this round.
Tom's mind wasn't at all focused.
"Fuck!" he yelled when he failed to get the ball out of the bunker for the third time, harshly throwing his club in the sand before he pinched the bridge of his nose, free hand resting on his hip as he breathed out harshly.
"Hey," you called out as you made your way over to join him. Not-so-gracefully might you add since the second your shoe touched the sand, you stumbled with a loud squeak.
"Careful!" Tom hurried over to you, offering you both his hands to take once you managed to keep yourself standing. You took it gladly with a laugh, waddling closer to him until you were able to wrap both your arms around his shoulders. Tom's fingers curled around your waist, squeezing it gently as he grumbled, "What are you up to?"
"Just came here for your hourly reminder that—" You took his cap off, turning it backwards before placing it right back on his head. Tom furrowed his brows at you in confusion, the crease on his forehead disappearing once you leaned in to capture his lips in yours tenderly.
You felt his whole body melt, his tensed shoulders relaxing under your palms as he wrapped his strong arms around you, pulling you flush against his chest with a sigh of relief. You hummed between the kiss, your hands smoothing over his shoulders, down his toned chest, and then back up again, Tom's arms squeezing you lovingly in return with a satisfied breath of his own.
Pulling away a few seconds later, you flashed him a tender smile, your eyes deeply looking in his as you whispered, "I love you."
"I love you more," he hummed, his soft chuckle following soon after when you playfully nudged his nose with yours. He rested his forehead against your own with a soft exhale, the back strap of his cap slightly rough on your skin but you didn't mind. Not when Tom's eyes looked so beautiful up close, the love in them evident, so soft yet clear in the gorgeous swirls of chocolate.
Though a second later, he raised his messy brow at you, eyeing you suspiciously as he asked, "Now, why the sudden change in strategy?"
You laughed at that, fingers playing with his curls on the back of his head, the ones that were peeking out under his cap. "Just don't want you exploding, is all," you admitted with a smile.
"You're giving me a whiplash." Tom shook his head at you with a chuckle, "A year and a half on and I'm still learning how to deal with you."
"Could say the exact same thing with you," you giggled, giving him a few more kisses before pulling away from his grasp. You made your way over to where his ball was, pursing your lips before you reached your hand out.
"Darling, what are you doing?"
"Nobody's around, I'm picking it up to save time—"
"Love, no!" Tom laughed heartily as he practically barrelled over to you. He quickly grabbed your hands in his, wrapping them around his torso and pinning them down with his arms as he pulled you into his chest. He cupped your face with both hands when you pouted at him, his thumbs grazing over your cheeks as he chuckled, "Tempting, but we're playing this fair and square."
"But fair and square is taking so long," you complained, screwing your eyes shut while throwing your head back for dramatic purposes, his hands sliding off your face to rest it loosely on the small of your back.
Tom shook his head with a laugh, leaning close to pepper gentle kisses on your stretched-out neck. His lips felt warm and lovely on your skin, but they were also tickling you with how featherlike they were, eliciting heaps of giggles from you. Dropping your head to meet his gaze again, you saw one beautiful smile gracing his lips as he looked at you adoringly yet knowingly.
"You need to learn a little bit more about being patient, darling," he hummed.
Your smile grew at that, but it was one coated with utter mischief, Tom immediately noticing it when he narrowed his eyes at you.
"Hmm, you are the best teacher when it comes to that, too," you murmured. With the way his hold around you tightened, you knew he already got what you meant. But still, you wanted to be extra sure as you added, "Always teaching me to be patient or else I don't get to finish."
Yeah, Tom's breather was short-lived.
It was right by the 10th hole when he suddenly stopped the golf cart near a thick forest. It was part of the course where there was nobody else in sight yet. Tom hopped out of his seat and made his way to the back. You furrowed your brows at him in confusion, him chuckling when he saw your baffled expression.
"Bathroom break," he explained, fumbling around in his golf bag before taking out the familiar traveller's pack of wet wipes—you had given it to him to bring with because you never know when you're going to need one so, better safe than sorry—along with a small recycling bag and shoving it in his pockets which come to think about, can actually hold a lot.
"Does it not hurt to pee with a semi?" you teased.
Let's just say you didn't really behave yourself on the way here.
Tom chuckled as he walked over to your side of the golf cart, hands landing on your knee and urging you to turn so you were facing him. You spread your legs a little so he could stand in between, him moving even closer to rest his hands on your hips.
"You're being quite the troublemaker today, aren't you?" he hummed, a hand coming up to take your nose in between his fingers.
"Tom, stop," you whined when he started to pull it lightly, swatting his hand away while you tried to push him with the other. He let go of your nose with a chuckle, leaning closer to give it a sweet and loving kiss to compensate. "I just asked a question," you grumbled.
"It is uncomfortable, yes," he answered, his lips moving over to your cheek, down your jaw, and then on your neck. You tilted your head with a hum, giving him more access to litter your skin with kisses.
A shiver ran down your spine when you felt the cold metal of his pinky ring touch your bare thigh. The slight contrast in temperature was livening, a tinge of something cool paired with Tom's warm hands as they made their way up and under your skirt, only briefly, and then trailing back down to your knees. He repeated the action over and over, his lips never letting up, leaving trails on every exposed part of your neck, each kiss turning more passionate after the previous one.
"So lovely you are," he whispered against your skin.
You gasped when you suddenly felt him suck on your sweet spot with a hum, one he's already memorised. He nipped on it gently, a soft whimper rumbling in the back of your throat when he smoothed his tongue over it soon after. Tom chuckled at that, placing one last kiss on your skin before he lifted his head up to meet your eyes.
"But you've got nothing to worry about my semi, though," he said humorously. "I'll calm down, no thanks to you." He pecked your lips before he turned on his heel, disappearing into the woods and leaving you alone and flustered.
You were lucky Tom wasn't fully joining you in this game you were playing because, without a shadow of a doubt, you'd lose immensely once it's him who starts to become a tease.
He's definitely way better at it than you are, probably comes with the experience. But also, he already knows your body like the back of his hand. You, on the other hand, you're still learning his, little by little.
Tom already knows how to push certain buttons that you didn't even know you had, buttons that will have you a quivering and whimpering mess in so little time.
It's like you said, he's just an attentive boyfriend like that.
So when and if he decides to flip the switch, then you're absolutely done for.
The course wasn't busy today so it was rather quiet, and sitting alone made you somewhat bored. That until a rather daring idea popped inside your head, one born simply from the whole day of you riling Tom up. You couldn't help but laugh in pure amusement, completely surprised with your newfound confidence—since this was definitely something you haven't done before—as you swiftly got on with it before Tom could get back.
Zipping the pocket of his bag closed, you sat back on your seat, and only a few seconds later, Tom emerged out of the woods.
Impeccable timing.
You sat in anticipation as watched him fumble around his bag, returning the wet wipes, most likely. He didn't show any signs of finding it though, the zip ringing in the air not long after. A grin slowly made its way onto your lips when another bold idea popped inside your head.
Before he could get back to the driver's seat, you spoke, "Tom?"
Lifting his head to meet your gaze, he narrowed his eyes at you suspiciously, probably noticing the way your eyes glimmered and showed nothing but trouble.
"You think I can sneakily pee behind a bush, too?" you asked with an innocent smile.
Tom rolled his eyes with a loud scoff, "Not a fucking chance."
"That's not very feminist of you, Thomas." You pouted at him, pressing your thighs together as you shifted in your seat. Tom noticed this, his body slumping as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
"There's a bathroom near fifteen, can you not hold it a little longer?" he sighed as he met your eyes.
"But I want to live a little," you reasoned. "It's not every day I get to pee on expensive grass."
"Sweetheart, I swear—"
"Please?" you tried again, tilting your head and giving him the best puppy eyes you could muster with your pout in full play.
Tom pursed his lips, so obviously trying to hold back a smile. Still, it was only a second later when he gave in.
"Fine," he grumbled, walking over to your side of the cart and offering you a hand to take. "You better make it quick before anyone else catches up."
You took his hand and hopped out of the vehicle, squeezing it before letting go as you moved over to his bag. "Where'd you put the mini wipes I gave you? And the recycling bag?"
"Right pocket," he muttered.
You grinned, knowing that your secret was stored in the opposite side, thrill coursing your bones as you wondered how long it would take for him to find it.
Once you got hold of the wet wipes and bag, you held out your hand and wriggled your fingers, Tom interlocking it with his with a deep sigh.
He guided you deeper into the forest, the whole area covered in large trunks that made it somewhat private. Tom helped you find an area where some bushes created a C. It was the perfect spot, properly secluded aside from the slight opening of the C but that's where Tom comes in handy. He'll be your lookout.
Your hand was still in his so he waved his other hand around without a word, signalling you to get on with it. His sudden quietness was quite odd, a frown growing on your lips once you saw his pout. With his cap on backwards, it was not difficult for you to see the slight irritation on his face. You tugged him closer until he was standing with you in the middle of the C-shaped bushes.
"Are you mad?" you whispered, squeezing his hand softly as you leaned closer to peck his lips.
"I'm not mad just...thinking," Tom sighed, free hand landing on your waist as he nudged the tip of his nose with yours, a lazy smile gracing his face soon after.
"Of what?"
Tom scrunched up his nose, head tilting to the side as he pursed his lips. "I really don't want to say it out loud or else I'm not going to be able to contain myself," he grumbled, looking around the place you two were at before he met your eyes again. Only this time, his smirk was now in full play, his brown eyes a shade darker than before as he looked at you knowingly.
You blinked at him in surprise once you realised what he meant, your whole face heating up, body following suit, a sudden excitement coursing through you at how much privacy you two actually have right now. The space behind you was thick with bushes and trees, right in front was the same but only slightly more scarce. There was nobody else in sight aside from you and Tom, the two of you perfectly covered, alone.
"Oh," you breathed out. "You mean that thinking."
"Mhmm, a good place to do it but we really don't have the time even when it only takes five," he murmured. You couldn't stop your eyes from rolling at his cockiness, heat dusting your cheeks at his words. You didn't correct him though because...well, it does take around five minutes for you to finish all courtesy of him. Tom laughed at your reaction, kissing your lips briefly before he nodded his head towards the ground. "Now, go on, live your adventure and pee behind the bush."
"Such a supportive boyfriend," you teased with a giggle. But his revelation merely added to the ever-growing fire in your gut, so you weren't at all surprised to have found yourself going back to your little game.
You pecked his lips once more before taking only one step back all while still facing him. You slowly lowered yourself on the ground right in front of Tom. His gaze followed your form carefully with a shaky breath, his lips parting once you looked up at him through your lashes, a sight he for sure was familiar with and loves. You were now fully squatted but you kept your legs together, resting your full hands on your lap and tilting your head at your boyfriend when he didn't make an effort to move from his place.
"Tom, you're supposed to keep watch, not sneak a peek," you voiced out teasingly.
His smirk grew then, all wide and smug. "It's not like I haven't seen it before," he said playfully with a shrug.
You matched his grin as well as his tone, raising a brow at him as you countered, "Well, if you're not going to keep watch then someone else is going to see it, too."
That wiped his smirk off his face in a split second and you tried your absolute best not to burst out laughing.
A deep growl rumbled in the back of his throat as Tom swiftly turned his back on you and took a few steps forward, standing far enough to give you a bit of privacy. You bit the insides of your cheek to stop your giggles when he crossed his arms over his chest, looking almost like a child who was throwing a fit. The sight was humorous, especially when his head moved from left to right, being on the lookout as he scanned the still empty scene.
You didn't need to pee that badly, you just needed an excuse to bring him somewhere secluded for you to be able to give him a little show. Still, you always feel bad when you lie, especially when it's Tom, and you know he will immediately notice if you didn't go. But before you could even get on with it, a wave of insecurity washed over you.
"Uh, Tom?" you called out, the said lad looking at you over his shoulder with a hum. With a shy smile, you asked, "Can you cover your ears?"
His brows furrowed as he looked at you confused, an amused smile slowly growing on his lips when he slowly caught on to what you were implying.
"We live together. I've heard you pee already," Tom plainly said.
"Well, yeah but that's in a bathroom, this is going to sound different," you reasoned, fiddling with the wipes and bag in your hands.
"Y/N, darling, the sound of your pee won't make me love you any less," he reassured, amusement and honesty in his voice, the sincerity clearly reflected in his eyes.
You pouted at him, your heart melting, a laugh escaping you as you said, "That's weirdly sweet."
"Oh my fucking—" Tom threw his head back with a hearty laugh, eyes landing back on you with a hint of urgency now coating them. "Love, quickly! Before anyone else will notice."
"Okay! Okay, turn around," you laughed, Tom shaking his head with a chuckle before doing as told.
And you went. Properly cleaning up after yourself and then disposing of the wipes in the small recycling bag.
Now it was time for why you actually came out here.
Reaching behind, you grabbed the hem of your skirt, lifting it up and tucking the fabric in the waistband so that now, your left ass cheek was in view. You bit the insides of your cheek to hold back a smile, trying your best to make it look like it was an accident. You made sure it was showing only a little and mostly the bottom half, just so you could still keep the little secret you want to reveal to him later.
The grass rustled underneath your shoes when you went to stand back up to your full height, Tom immediately noticing as he turned around.
"Yup, let's go," you hummed, moving straight past him to walk in front.
"Fucking hell—" Tom growled as he grabbed your hips, stopping you completely from taking another step.
You tried your best not to break out into a grin, faking ignorance as you started, "What's wrong—oh."
Your words got caught in your throat when Tom brushed the back of his fingers over the bare part of your ass. His touch was featherlike but heavy and warm with praise. You glanced at him over your shoulder to see his head hanging low, eyes following the path of his fingers as he traced it over your skin. It was a split second later when he cupped it in his palm, yet his admiration only lasted for a fleeting moment as he immediately fixed up your skirt, covering your ass once again with the fabric.
With his hands on your waist, he turned you around. You bit your lip once you saw how red his face was. From anger? Quite possibly, the hunger in his eyes though, that you were sure of.
"Guess you still got your little peak after all," you teased, draping your arms over his shoulders. Tom pressed his palms on the small of your back as he pulled you closer, eyes already dark with lust, jaw tight in obvious frustration.
"You did that on purpose," he stated lowly.
"Maybe," you hummed, leaning in to kiss him hotly, a soft groan coming out of him once you did. Tom's grip around you tightened when you poked your tongue out, him parting his lips to welcome you in immediately, eagerly. But just as the tip of your tongue touched his, you pulled away, placing one last peck on the corner of his mouth before you made your way out of the trees. "Come on, the boys are probably wondering where we'd gone."
After a few steps, you looked behind you to see if Tom was following, a soft laugh escaping your lips once you saw him staring at the sky, body slumped with his arms limped by his sides as he groaned,
"She's going to be the death of me."
You knew it was surprising for Tom with how far you'd been going with the teasing. Hell, it was surprising to you as well given that you'd never done it at this level before, especially not so spontaneously, because believe it or not, none of this was part of the plan when you tagged along.
In fact, you didn't plan this at all.
When Tom offered for you to join him, Harry, and Harrison for a round of golf, you hadn't really thought of anything else rather than actually trying to participate in the game. You wanted to learn a few things, play the sport that brings so much joy to your man's life.
But the way Tom looked in his golf was hypnotizing.
It made you drool to see his white polo shirt hug his torso, so lusciously in a way that you could trace the outline of his abs through the fabric. His biceps were practically bursting out of the sleeves whenever the muscles would flex every time he took a swing. The lovely curve of his waist was perfectly visible from the simple act of him tucking in his shirt, giving him a nice, sculpted shape especially with his broad shoulder. And that bum...that round ass in those trousers just looks far too delicious that you just couldn't resist but to stare.
Not only that, but watching Tom play golf the way he was enchanting.
You love seeing the passion in his eyes when he examines the course, calculating, concentrating, contemplating on what was the best way to take his shot to at least try and be under par. The strength he showed each time he teed off, the way his hips would turn, and the way his body just looks toned and perfect in that pose he makes after every shot, it's oddly so satisfying to watch.
But then to have the culmination of both was just too much, and it was turning you on in more ways than anticipated.
So can you really blame yourself for needing him—all of him—to yourself?
Today you were in the mood for something more...specific.
You didn't know if it was due to the short glimpses of him getting angry and heated when the ball lands in a punishing spot, or the mere strength he showed when he swung that driver with such force and admirable strength.
Either way, you wanted the less gentle side of Tom, a side you haven't had the chance of seeing fully in between the sheets.
Granted, you'd seen glimpses of it. Mostly at times when you get one or two spanks here and there, or when he edges you a couple of times to teach you a lesson when you're being a bit impatient. Sometimes you see it in the way he holds your wrists above your head, or from his deep, fast but still careful thrusts. But most of the time, it was quite obvious that Tom was holding back, wary not to push too far, too fast.
Right now though, you don't want him to hold back.
But the thing with being more inexperienced than your ever so gorgeous boyfriend, you have yet to gain your confidence in simply speaking what you want.
Tom wasn't the problem, of course. He's been wonderful in showing you utmost patience, reassuring you that you can tell him anything and everything, from things you've been wanting to try—or in his words, boxes you wanted to tick off your pre-existing list—to completely new things you're open to dabble in.
Never did he once make fun or make you feel inadequate whenever you voiced out something new you wanted to experience, no matter how vanilla it may seem. And with each new thing, he's always careful, gentle as he guides you through it.
Tom is always so attentive to every single thing from the way your body reacts, the sounds you make, or simply from the emotions that would flicker in your eyes, just so he could make sure he was giving you the best and most comfortable experience.
He offers his own sets of wants and needs, of course, things he wanted to try mostly not for his first time, but first time with you. But not once did he pressure you into it, always doing things at your pace. He's always patient about it, always giving you time whenever he raises his fantasies to you, letting you sit on the thought first before he lets you come to a conclusion if you want to try it or not.
But no matter how much of an amazing boyfriend Tom has been—both in and outside the bedroom—it was still a bit difficult for you to simply blurt out the obscenity that would taint your thoughts from time to time.
So, you found it best to leave little hints for Tom to pick up, try to show rather than tell what it was you've been craving.
Whether from the way you slip yourself on his lap when he's sitting on the couch, straddling his waist, peppering his neck with not-so-innocent kisses before slowly moving your hips to tell him you need him, right this instant. Or from the subtle way you push your ass against him early in the morning when you're feeling particularly needy after you've both woken up.
There was this instance where you wanted to do it somewhere else in the house but you were too shy to simply tell him. So, you pranced in the kitchen when he was making lunch in nothing but his thin—nearly see-through—white dress shirt on, top half of the buttons undone. That was the first time when you two got together that he ate something on the countertop that wasn'
If he couldn't pick up the hints you were putting, especially when he knows you needed something but he simply couldn't put a pin on it, he then sweetly coaxes it out of you, a gentle encouragement until you finally say it.
But still, Tom usually never fails to see right through you, easily reads your little ticks for him to know what exactly it was you were needing, craving, fantasising.
Today wasn't an exception.
Harrison and Harry disappeared to order some more drinks, the four of you finding yourselves in this restaurant at the clubhouse, winding down with some lovely—and quite fancy—food and beverages.
Well, everyone winded down except for Tom.
"You've been really testing my patience today," he murmured, looking at you through the rim of his glass as he took a sip of his water.
You were sitting beside each other on the sofa against the wall, hips brushing against each other as he sat on your right. You had your legs crossed, simply to deny him any satisfaction of running his hand up higher given that he could easily and sneakily do so. Aside from the plain wall behind you, the white table cloth could effortlessly hide any of his impure intentions.
You weren't going to let him have an upper hand just yet.
"Was I that bad at it?" you asked, question not entirely related to his statement. You knew exactly what he meant, of course, but dancing around the matter for a little bit longer was more fun for you to pass.
Tom didn't seem to think much of it though when he quickly shook his head. "No, you weren't, actually," he said, fingers tracing circles on your knee as he flashed you a proud, genuine smile. "You did great for a first-timer."
Your smile widened simply at his poor choice of wording, slowly nodding as you teased, "You mean at golf, right?"
Tom ran his tongue over his teeth as he chuckled darkly, amusement with a hint of displeasure shining in his eyes at how easily he fell right into your trap. He inclined back on the sofa, running a hand through his now exposed curls before extending both his arms out as he rested them on the back of the cushion, his body now stretched in full view.
"Keep pushing and you're just about to get it," he dared, tilting his head at you, his one messy brow raised.
"What?" you asked, feigning ignorance as you pouted. "What did I do?"
"Oh, what did you do now, huh?" he repeated, patting the back of the sofa to tell you to move closer.
And you did, leaning back with him. He immediately hooked one arm behind you as he draped the other over your still crossed legs, pulling you close to his side.
He kept his gaze locked with yours, eyes holding so many emotions that you couldn't pinpoint which was what. Though the second he let out a deep breath was when you saw the hint of anger flicker in them as he lowly said, "You aren't as slick as you think you are with how you've been teasing me the whole day, darling. I know what you're trying to gain from this."
"I still don't think I follow," you hummed, trying your best to hold the facade of being composed even though it was getting more and more difficult as you slowly felt yourself submit under his gaze.
"Sweetheart," Tom chuckled tauntingly, shaking his head before he leaned closer, kissing your clothed shoulder before he rested his chin on it to whisper in your ear, "You want me to go rough on you, right? Pound that pretty little cunt until you're struggling to walk after?"
That rendered you speechless.
You gaped at him with wide eyes, swallowing the lump in your throat as you pressed your thighs together. You didn't know if the pulsing came first from your hammering heart or the bottom way around.
Yes, that was exactly what you wanted him to do to you.
But to hear Tom say it with such boldness and vulgarity—hell, whenever Tom switches his sweet, gentlemanly, gracious words to something more obscene, letters formed into absolute filth, it will never fail to leave you stunned but also, extremely aroused.
"Aww, so cute how you're surprised," Tom cooed at your reaction, his smirk cocky as his warm hand cupped your face. His thumb stroked the apple of your cheek so affectionately, innocently, such a stark contrast to the devilry that's glossed over his brown orbs. "I know you. Let's not forget that, angel."
You breathed shakily at the pet name, a term of endearment he only ever uses on two extremely different occasions, literally between night and day.
Once whenever he's completely enthralled by you, used with an amorous tone with that loving, bright, charming smile of his to match. He said it was his way of letting you know how lucky he feels to have been graced by such an otherworldly being, an angel straight from the heavens above who somehow fell into his arms.
But the other way, however, was more taunting, a dark, salacious tone, a way for him to remind you where your place is, how pure you are compared to him, and how he was slowly tainting you one lustful touch at a time. Because behind closed doors, with naked bodies tangled and wrapped in the sheets, you are his inexperienced but, by the looks of it, not-so-innocent angel.
Given the circumstances, even a fool would know he was using it as the latter.
Tom placed a warm kiss on your cheek, his lips lingering for a few goading seconds before he pulled away completely and reclined back in his seat. He crossed his arms over his chest as he tilted his head at you, his proud smirk never wavering at the mere sight of your flustered state.
"Now, you want to ask me something?"
You let out the breath you didn't even know you were holding.
As you said, you have yet to gain your confidence in simply telling him what you want. And being the ever encouraging and supportive boyfriend that he is, Tom found his way of slowly, but surely easing you out of your shell. By simply waiting for you to ask him, specifically, word for word, no matter how long it takes for you to blurt it out, before he gives you exactly what you want.
But today, you wanted to try something a little different, see if giving him one last push would make him snap without you having to tell him what you want him to do to you.
You slowly pulled yourself together and sat straighter in your seat, latching onto the little bit of courage you have left before you let your self-control go completely, to let Tom have you however he may please.
"How about you find out what I'm wearing underneath?"
Quirking one brow, Tom pushed himself up and leaned forward, his elbow on the table as he rested his lips on his fist, eyes cautiously on you. He tapped your knee with his left hand, a silent way of saying that he was taking the bait. You uncrossed your legs for him, spreading them just so his hand could go up your thigh easily, the table cloth hiding his wanton touch.
Curiosity mixed with hints of excitement coated his eyes as he kept them locked with yours.
It was hard to keep your breathing steady, body heat rising at the simple feeling of the coolness of his ring against your thigh. His Rolex snagged the hem of your skirt, bringing the fabric with him as his hand continued to wander, his fingers trailing up, up, up and—
You saw his eyes darken in a snap, his jaw tightening when he got to your aching core. He masked his growl with fake, loud coughs, immediately pulling your skirt down before retracting his hand at the sound of footsteps growing near.
And what did Tom find out?
How you were wearing absolutely nothing underneath.
Harry and Harrison came into view seconds later, setting the tray of drinks on the table before sitting back across you both.
"You okay there, Tom?" the blonde lad asked, blue eyes flickering between the two of you with brows furrowed in curiosity.
"Yeah, yeah, just something got caught in my throat," Tom reasoned, keeping his left hand steady on your knee as he hastily took a bottle of beer off the table with the other. "You lot took so long with the drinks, bloody hell."
Harrison and Harry ignored him, seeming to continue on with their debate on some busted myths with regards to tips and tricks on being better at getting out of the bunker. The two were distracted enough not to notice the deep glower that now covered Tom's face.
After one huge gulp of his beer, he left it on the table as he leaned back on the sofa, his hand leaving your knee. You turned to look at him just in time to see the tip of his middle finger disappearing into his mouth, eyes locking with yours before he pulled it out with a soft pop, cleaning up your slickness that he managed to gather in his short trip down there.
You bit your lip to suppress a moan, shifting in your seat when Tom pulled at the back of your shirt gently, urging you to come closer. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder once you did, pulling you to his side, eyes steady in front as he grumbled under his breath, "Since when."
"Tenth hole, took it off when I was sitting in the golf cart waiting for you to finish peeing. I stored it in one of the pockets of your bag, left side, I think. Surprised you haven't found it yet," you explained to him, keeping your voice low even though the two boys in front were still well underway with their arguments.
From the outside looking in, a seemingly innocent kiss landed on your temple. But to you, it was one laced with a hint of threat, a silent way to tell that you better be ready because the information you disclosed to him was definitely the last straw.
Without a single word, Tom stood up from his seat, your eyes furrowing in confusion until you saw him crouch in front of his golf bag that was right by the end of the sofa.
He searched around the pockets, a deep, harsh breath escaping through his nostrils once he found what you secretly stashed in there not too long ago.
The odds were definitely in your favour when you somehow managed to put on one of his favourites today.
You only caught a quick glimpse of the red lace curling around his fingers before he hastily shoved it in the back pocket of his trousers, opposite to where his white golf glove was hanging out.
But what interested you most was when he took the wet wipes out of the bag too, putting it in his front pocket along with his wallet.
You gulped, drawing an immediate conclusion as to what he was planning, one that you were having a hard time believing because neither of you had done it anywhere in public.
Well...not yet.
"Say you need to use the bathroom," Tom whispered in your ear once he sat back down with his legs crossed, so obviously trying to hide the tent that's grown in his trousers. He squeezed your thigh as he took his beer off the table, ghosting it over his lips as he added lowly, "Sell it, darling, unless you want to hear nonstop teasing from these two when we get back."
A mixture of excitement and slight dread coated you from head to toe, your eyes looking through his to see if there were any hints of uncertainty or even playfulness in his irises but you saw none. Despite how dark they'd gotten, you still saw it in his eyes how he was dead serious.
You nodded discreetly, reaching over to grab your glass of water only for you to stop midway through. "Ah," you hissed, wrapping an arm around your stomach as you scrunched your face.
Tom was quick to sit up, hand landing on your shoulder in feigned comfort. "You alright, love?"
"Yeah, it's just—" You winced, all the boys' attention immediately turned to you, their brows furrowed in concern. Well, one was pretending to be concerned.
"You okay, Y/N?" Harry asked.
"I don't think the sausages agreed with me," you grumbled, eyes steady on the floor because you knew the second you'd see any of the boys' eyes, you'd immediately retract your lie. With a deep breath, you turned to your boyfriend, his hand rubbing circles on your back with a frown on his lips, concern covering his whole features but his eyes, oh you see right through those eyes no matter how much of an amazing actor he is. "I really need to use the bathroom," you said softly but loud enough for all three of them to hear.
"Come on. I'll help you find where it is." Tom nodded as he stood up from his seat, offering you both his hands to take which you gladly did as you mirrored his movement. He gave the two boys a curt nod as the two of you left the table. "We'll be back in a sec."
Tom kept a hand on the small of your back as he guided you out of the restaurant and around the halls of this quite massive place. "You're learning how to act now, huh," he whispered once you were out of earshot.
"My boyfriend acts for a living, what'd you expect?" you said as a matter of fact.
Tom chuckled at that, "That smart mouth is only digging you into deeper trouble, sweetheart."
You both wandered for a few minutes until Tom asked around, a kind staff member pointing you towards a hall and saying how the bathroom was just at the end of it. Once you were both alone again, Tom suddenly stopped in his tracks just as you both reached the hallway.
You turned to look at him, brows furrowed in concern. "What's wrong?"
"Come here," he hummed, hand out for you to take, your palm right over his as he pulled you closer. He cupped your face with his free hand, touch sweet as his eyes looked through yours, the seriousness in them clear despite them being a few shades darker than their usual hue. "You don't have to do this now if you don't want to."
"N-No, yes—I do. I want to," you rushed, the heat immediately covering your cheeks at how eager you sounded.
But Tom merely tilted his head, lips pursed as look at you knowingly. "Need you to be clear for me, angel," he said, thumb brushing over your cheek tenderly as he squeezed your hand with the other.
"Yes. I really want to do this," you repeated, firmer this time, the assurance reflected clear in your eyes, no ounce of doubt coursing in your bones whatsoever. You leaned into his palm, eyelashes fluttering as you whispered, "I need you."
Tom let out a harsh breath at that, nodding as he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead, keeping your hands intertwined as you both ventured down the hall.
The bathroom was way deep into the end, the area pretty much empty that it wouldn't raise much suspicion if you slipped in together. Still, you went in first, keeping it unlocked so that Tom can follow suit, no worries of anyone else coming in given that he was right out the door.
It was a single-occupancy one, a rather fancy and expensive-looking one that is. Aside from it being squeaky clean and seeming to have not been used before, it had black marble walls, gold light fixtures, a white marble countertop that held quite a large sink, and right beside that was the toilet.
But the thing that caught your eye most was the large mirror that basically covered half, if not most of the wall right behind the sink and the toilet, from your head down to your knees clearly reflected on it.
You watched Tom in the mirror as he slipped inside and closed the door behind him, butterflies causing havoc inside your stomach as you stood still in anticipation.
The moment you heard the lock click you were immediately pressed against the wall in a split second, Tom's mouth over yours hotly with a deep growl.
A light sting ran up your back when you hit the tiles, Tom fingers tight around your waist. But you didn't know if your breath was knocked out of you due the sudden impact, or from the way Tom's lips moved fervently as if he was dehydrated and you're the only one who could quench his thirst.
Your head was spinning, heart pounding, hand curling around his bicep as the other held onto the back of his head for leverage. Your fingers got lost in the mess of his curls, earning a low groan from Tom when you tugged at the roots as you tried your best to keep up with him.
The kiss was demanding, rushed, aggressive, teeth clashing against each other, your gasps mixed with his groans, lips not by any means in sync. But neither of you cared, so long as you were finally close, having each other all to yourselves, satiating the need that's been wantonly bubbling from the 1st to the 18th.
Tom pulled your bottom lip between his teeth, his eager action making you gasp, his tongue slipping into your mouth without a second to waste. The bitter taste of beer lingered, but not enough to overpower the taste of him, the same one that intoxicates you better than any alcohol could. You let him explore your mouth, let his tongue move against yours with such urgency, no use trying to fight for dominance since it was already obvious he'd win.
You whimpered into Tom's mouth when he kicked your legs apart, your arms wrapping around his shoulders for support as he slotted his thick thigh in between. His palms were hot as he cupped your ass under your skirt, squeezing the flesh firmly, pulling you closer to him in the process.
Tom swallowed your moan when he pressed his thigh up against your bare, aching core, the fabric of his trousers rough on your bundle of nerves, providing some relief but not enough. Against your better judgment, you tried to move to create friction, desperate for more but Tom was not having that.
A harsh smack rang in the air when his hand collided against your thigh, the sting starting from where his hand once was, slowly trickling into your pulsating center.
You immediately stilled with a whimper, not wanting to anger him any further because now, he was in control. And if you dare defy him more than you'd already done, it will for sure backfire on you.
Tom's lips left yours in haste, trailing down your jaw until he reached your neck, your head tilting instinctively to provide him better access. His lips were heavy, tongue hot as he sucked on your sweet spots, alternating from kissing and nipping, hard enough to earn low moans from you, but careful not to leave any mark.
"You're getting quite daring aren't you, angel," he grumbled against your skin, hands finding your hips so he could push you down on his thigh. You whined when he flexed his muscle just once just to be a tease, holding you firmly to keep you completely still, not granting you even the faintest relief. You were all fired up, feeling the way you were practically throbbing against his thigh. Tom chuckled darkly at your neediness, teeth nipping gently on the spot below your ear before he murmured, "Don't get me wrong, I'm proud you're finding your confidence. I love it, really love it. But you need to learn when and where you're going to show this devilish side of yours."
He yanked your hands off of him, his fingers gripping your wrist as he pinned them against the wall, each one on either side of your head, the marble cold against your searing skin. Your whimper got masked by Tom's low growl when he started grinding himself against your hip. You could just feel how hard he was already and it only made you crave him that much more.
"You see what you do to me? You being a pretty little devil out there?" he grumbled, face buried on the crook of your neck as he continued to grind his hips against you, his thigh flexing in the process giving you the littlest bit of relief as it brushed against your clit. "Fuck, I didn't even know you had it in you, angel."
With your mouth working faster than your brain, you retorted,
"Well, the devil was once an angel."
You yelped when Tom suddenly bit your neck, his warm tongue smoothing over the spot soon after, kissing it for good measure before he stilled and pulled away, only slightly so he could meet your eyes.
Your chest was heaving, Tom's just the same as you both tried to steady your breaths. But you were all the more distracted at the man before you, gaping at him in awe.
His brown eyes were covered in lust, the dark hue a slight contrast to the way his cheeks were dusted red, but the colour of his skin perfectly matched the pink of his swollen lips. His hair was in disarray, a few strands of his curls hanging over his forehead, his jawline all chiselled with the way he had it clenched.
Tom just looked so...pretty.
The feeling of his lips on your wrists brought you out of your reverie, not even realising that he already pulled your hands off the wall until he draped it over his shoulders.
He cupped your face then, his pinky ring cold against your jaw, his warm thumb running over your cheek as he asked,
"You sure you want it rough?"
"Wouldn't have done everything I did today to rile you up if I wasn't," you confessed, almost breathlessly when Tom brought his right hand up, eyes never leaving yours as he tapped his pointer and middle finger over your lips.
With a soft sigh, you opened up for him, Tom slipping his fingers in with a low hum, carefully pushing deeper, eyes looking through yours for any signs of protest to which he found none.
Then again, this wasn't the first time his fingers found their way inside your mouth.
His eyes dropped to your lips then, gaze trained on the way you were taking them in almost at the knuckles, a low groan reverberating on the back of his throat when you started to swirl your tongue around them.
"Given the circumstances, I'm only giving you a taste of it for now," he murmured, his other hand holding your face steady, thumb caressing your cheek sweetly. You hummed around his fingers with a nod, Tom's gaze finally meeting yours as he smirked. "Yeah, just gonna give my sweet angel her fill for now."
He pressed his fingers down, mimicking the weight of his cock when it's the one settled on your tongue. Your eyes fluttered close, humming to yourself, purely enjoying the feeling of having your mouth full as you started to suck. Tom groaned deeply as his hips jerked, pressing his hardened length against your hip as he slowly moved his fingers in and out of your mouth.
"Fuck, the things I'm going to do to you when we get back home," Tom mused, a deep chuckle rumbling in his chest when you moaned around his digits, noticing how you tried to press your thighs together only to be stopped by his muscular one. "Guess you're excited for that too, huh?"
Tapping your cheek with his other hand, you opened your eyes and stopped. Tom pulled his fingers out gently, bringing a string of your spit with him once he did so. Eyes dead set on yours, he firmly said,
"Remember your colours."
Granted, you hadn't tried anything drastic before. As you said, Tom has yet to go rough on you. This was definitely the first time that you both did something quite...adventurous. But you and Tom set up the Green-Yellow-Red system the second you two started having sex—or in his case, when he took your virginity.
It was his simple way of making sure he was making it comfortable for you all throughout, especially when it comes to trying something new, whether it's new for you, or new for you both.
With your brain slightly fogged up already, you made a sound of agreeing. Only then did you notice that you added another word to your otherwise simple 'yes' when Tom spoke,
"What did you just call me?"
Your eyes widened, shyness overcoming your whole body once you realised that you managed to say it out loud, a term that's been lingering in your head for a while now but just hadn't had the guts to say it yet. You tried to hide as you dropped your head but Tom was quick to grab your jaw, grip on them tight so your eyes remained on his.
"I asked you a question, sweetheart."
You felt your heartbeat quicken, wondering if he was going to get turned off because you hadn't talked about it before. You hadn't called him that ever. But your worries quickly subsided when Tom nodded his head in encouragement.
"Go on, my sweet angel, it's okay," he whispered, eyes slightly softened, holding the same amount of reassurance his words were coated with. "Say it again for me, loud and clear this time."
You nodded, taking in a deep breath before repeating,
"Yes, sir."
It was almost like a switch when Tom's eyes darkened starkly, his jaw tightening as he breathed out harshly through his nose.
"Good girl," he praised, his voice deep and rough compared to the soft whimper you let out at the already familiar nickname, one you absolutely love hearing tumble out of those pretty lips.
Tom suddenly pulled you off the wall, turning you around hastily to face the mirror. He stood behind you, your head turning instinctively to look at him but you didn't get a chance to when he grabbed your chin and made you look back in front, your eyes locking with his through the reflection. "Keep those pretty eyes on the mirror or else I'll stop."
He wrapped one arm around your torso then, pulling you close until your back was flushed against his toned chest, his hard length pressing right against your ass. His lust-filled eyes were trained on your reflection as his chin rested on your shoulder, his warm cheek against your own. Your heart picked up its pace when Tom urged you to keep your legs apart, his fingers that were coated with your spit making their way down and under your skirt, disappearing right in between your legs.
Your body jerked as you threw your head back, eyes fluttering close with a soft moan when Tom pressed his wet digits against your clit. Your hand landed on the nape of his neck, the other grabbing onto his forearm that was over your stomach in an attempt to steady yourself.
"What did I just tell you?" You heard him grumble against your neck, voice laced with warning. You immediately dropped your head to look at your reflection again, Tom humming approvingly as he placed a sweet peck on your skin. "Good girl."
Low moans escaped your parted lips when Tom started drawing circles around your already throbbing clit. His grip around you tightened when you tugged at his hair, your fingers digging into his forearm as you did your best to keep your legs steady under you, all while keeping them far apart enough for easy access.
"Can't believe we haven't done this before," he murmured, eyes nowhere else but admiring the echo of yourself in the mirror. You were struggling to keep your own eyes open, already rendered to a quivering mess with only his fingers that weren't even in you yet. He kissed your cheek tenderly, grin wide and cocky as he rested his chin back on your shoulder to meet your gaze. "We look great together, don't we?"
Your lips were swollen as were Tom's, two pairs of eyes darker with lust, hairs all dishevelled, your matching white shirts crumpled in some parts. You both looked messy but in an alluring way. With the way Tom held you with one strong arm, your nimble fingers lost in the mesh of his brown locks, warm cheeks pressed together almost sweetly, endearingly, a contrast to the impurity of your lustful deed, it was already quite a sight and you were still fully clothed.
"Yeah, we really do—" you cut yourself off with a gasp when Tom started rubbing your clit faster, shockwaves surging through every nerve endings of your body starting from where his fingers were lasciviously placed.
Your legs started to shake under you, noises getting more and more difficult to keep down. It was almost embarrassing how easy and quick Tom got you into this state.
But then again, it's Tom, your man who's studied your body as if it was his science, learned which buttons to push, mastered the when and the how to touch each one, memorised every part of your skin, it's beauty and grace, flaws and imperfections alike.
And in your slight defence, you'd been horny for quite a bit of time now. All the teasing wasn't only torture for Tom, it was for you as well.
"Definitely buying a mirror to put by our bed after this," he muttered, almost to himself as he continued to make work with his fingers, alternating from rubbing to flicking, knowing when exactly to press harder and when to go softer that would have all your senses turn erratic in the best of ways. "Wanna try this again but with less clothing next time.
"But still, look at how fucking beautiful you are, angel," he marvelled, placing tender kisses on the side of your neck as he kept his eyes on you, the pace of his fingers never letting up, your skirt moving in accord to each flick of his wrist. "You see what I had to deal with? The second I saw you walk out of our room in this pretty outfit I already knew it was going to be difficult for me to stay focused." Tilting his head to the side, he looked at you almost condescendingly, voice low as he added, "Though what I didn't take into account was you causing the actual trouble."
You bit your bottom lip to suppress a loud moan when he started flicking your clit with the tip of his middle finger. Your grip around him tightened as you bucked your hips against his hand impulsively, feeling that familiar knot in your stomach already beginning to twist.
But since Tom knows your body like the back of his hand, memorised all the ticks and signs, of course, he knew that you were almost there, too.
You whined in protest when he pulled his hand away. But Tom completely ignored you as he went to push you forward by your shoulder, urging you to bend over. You did as told, grabbing the edge of the countertop with a shaky breath, eyes following Tom's movements through the mirror as he stood behind you.
"You have any idea how difficult it was to control myself around you today?" he grumbled, lifting your skirt until you were fully exposed for him and him only, the coolness of the air somewhat soothing to your sweltering skin. "How hard it was to keep my hands to myself seeing you flaunt in this fucking skirt of yours?"
"I can feel just how hard."
Your body jolted forward with a gasp as a harsh smack rang in the air, Tom's warm palm smoothing over the tingling skin of your ass right after.
That comment earned a hard spank.
"Keep pissing me off, I dare you," he warned through gritted teeth, his glare sharp when you met his eyes on the mirror.
There was no doubt in your mind that Tom would not hesitate to leave you here unsatisfied. He won't even care about his own pleasure if it means he's teaching you a lesson. So, you bit your lip and stayed quiet, a pleading look covering your features, a silent apology glossing over your eyes.
Tom raised his brow at you with a hum, "That's what I thought. You know it's not difficult to change my mind, sweetheart. Should be thankful I'm even giving you something right now."
Tom kicked your legs further apart, a shiver running down your spine when the cold air hit your wet cunt. His eyes were trained on your folds that were now in full view for him, his head tilted, bottom lip caught between his teeth with a harsh breath.
"So pretty," Tom praised, almost in a trance, holding your skirt up with one hand on the small of your back, while the other ran up your inner thigh until his finger was ghosting over your glistening core.
You gasped when he started spreading your slickness around, moving forward to touch your clit softly and then back again to tease his finger against your opening.
"This is definitely not the best stance when it comes to golf—" He looked at you through the mirror with a smirk, winking as he said, "But far apart enough just how I like it."
You gnawed at your bottom lip to stop the loud moan from escaping when Tom slipped his finger in. He didn't even wait for a second as he started to move them in slow but long strokes.
"So fucking gorgeous like this," he murmured, head tilted to the side as his eyes flickered between watching you on the mirror and the way his finger was disappearing in and out of your cunt. You bit back a mewl when he added another one, your grip on the marble tightening with each lovely curl of his digits, angling downward to hit your G-spot each time. "Hmm, I'd be lying if I say I haven't thought about having you in this exact same position out there the whole day."
You tried your best to keep your eyes on Tom in the mirror, not wanting to miss even a second of how he was taking you because your boyfriend is always one hell of a sight to see when he's in this element.
He was gawking at you with his bottom lip between his teeth, a single curl falling down his forehead that was now littered with a few beads of sweat, making him look all dewy, the light tan of skin glistening underneath the bathroom lights. His cheeks were flushed, brown eyes practically black with lust but at the same time, twinkling with utter admiration.
Tom looked gorgeous like this.
"And I know you have, too, because fuck, don't even need that much prep, sweetheart."
It was borderline pathetic how you were practically dripping down your thighs, his two fingers slipping in and out of you easily. And if you listened hard enough, you could hear your slickness reverberate with each movement of his digits, faintly but lewdly.
But can you really blame yourself when Tom looked the way he did out there on the course the whole day?
"Tell me more?" you asked breathlessly, your pants and gasps filling up the bathroom as he continued to fuck you with his fingers, movements gradually growing faster, your hips bucking to meet each thrust.
"Hmm, against a tree, behind that bush, wished the bunker was covered enough so I could take you right there on the sand with you on all fours," he paused, drawing his finger out until it was only the tip in. A soft mewl rumbled in the back of our throat as he pushed it back in up to his knuckles. Tom hummed in satisfaction at how your walls fluttered around his digits.
"Fuck, been contemplating where I could park the golf cart so no one would see while I bend you over it and fuck you senseless." His eyes snapped up to meet yours when you clenched around his fingers hard, tilting his head at you smugly as he taunted, "Yeah, you would've wanted that, huh, angel?"
"Tom," you whined in protest when he pulled his hand out, rendering you completely empty. But the sound swiftly died out when he shot you a glare through the mirror.
"Be patient or I'm going to leave you here like this," he warned, keeping his gaze locked with yours as he brought his fingers up.
You clenched around nothing, moaning quietly as you watched him sucked his digits clean.
Tom's eyes screwed shut, groaning to himself as if it was the best meal he'd ever had the pleasure of tasting. Releasing his fingers with a pop, he met your gaze through the mirror again, shaking his head at you disappointedly. "Prancing around with no underwear on. Could've gotten down on my knees and tasted you out there without a problem."
He shoved his hand in his pocket then, your eyes catching sight of his wallet before he took out that familiar foil packaging. You tried to stay still—well, as still as you could manage as you felt your body slightly vibrate in both arousal and anticipation.
Tom placed the unopened condom between his lips, putting his wallet back before he went to unbutton his trousers.
Never in your life did you ever think that the sound of a zipper undoing would excite you this much but oh did it excite you so much.
He pushed his trousers down along with his boxers, taking the condom off his lips once his hands were free. But since he was standing directly behind you in the mirror, he was properly obstructed by your body, giving you a hard time seeing what was going on. And you wouldn't dare upset him by taking your eyes off the reflection.
You didn't even realise that you were craning your neck to try and get a peak, not until Tom chuckled darkly, smug smirk plastered on his face when your eyes snapped up to meet his.
"What? You wanna see?"
The heat was quick to cover your face, thighs clenching together once you saw his hand disappear between his legs, a soft hiss escaping his lips as his eyes fluttered shut.
"Tom," you called out softly, almost like a plea, your eyes glued on his reflection, trained on the way his biceps flexed as he gave himself some relief.
He opened his eyes a few seconds later, voice deep with command as he looked at you knowingly.
With a shaky breath, you whispered, "Can I see you? Please?"
"You're already seeing me, angel," he cooed, tilting his head at you knowingly. His other hand rested on your ass, the foil of the condom cold on your skin as he admired your dripping cunt. You whimpered when the movement of his hand grew slightly faster, his biceps flexing, his soft grunts pleasing not only to your ears. You clenched around nothing once you realised what he was doing.
Tom was getting himself off at the sight of you.
"Can I see your cock, please, sir?" you pleaded, almost like a gasp, shyness be damned since you knew he wouldn't move forward unless you ask specifically what you want.
Tom let out a cross between a groan and an animalistic growl at that.
"That's my good girl. Wasn't so difficult now, wasn't it?" he praised, taking one step sideways so that his impressive length came into view in the mirror, veins adorning the sides, tip pink and leaking with pre cum. Cocks aren't meant to look pretty but Tom's got a very, very pretty cock, and your mouth can't help but water at the sight no matter how many times you've seen it before.
"So fucking hard for you, darling," Tom groaned, keeping one hand curled around his dick lasciviously as he brought his other hand up to carefully open the condom wrapper with his teeth. He gently rolled the rubber over his length with a hushed moan. He pumped himself a few more times, a sight so provocative especially paired with his low yet lovely grunts. It was so obvious he was making a show out of it, his grin smug once he caught you staring with your mouth practically drooling. But you didn't mind nor were you ashamed, it was quite the show to see.
You whimpered impatiently when he positioned himself behind you again, pushing yourself back against his touch when he grabbed your ass in each of his palms. He squeezed each cheek before spreading them apart, humming in appreciation at the sight of your dripping core.
"Never thought I would ever have sex in a public bathroom let alone bathroom at a clubhouse," he said amusedly, tearing his gaze off your cunt to meet your eyes on the mirror. "First time for everything huh, love?"
You smiled lazily yet proudly in response, bones filling up with satisfaction and a slight sense of triumph on being some of Tom's firsts, too.
"How many boxes are we ticking off your list today, angel?"
"Four—" You bit back a moan when Tom ran his tip against your folds, him sucking in a sharp breath as he continued to lather his cock with your slickness.
"Semi-public quickie slash sex, mirror sex, rough sex..." he trailed off, eyebrows knitting together as he looked at you curiously. "What's the fourth one?"
With your cheeks turning hotter, you breathed out,
"You fucking me in your golf outfit."
Tom's smirk widened, tongue running over the front of his teeth as shook his head at you. "My angel's gaining a potty mouth," he said proudly. With one hand on your waist, he leaned down, his body curving over your own, his pelvis brushing against your ass as he kissed your clothed shoulder. Squeezing your waist, he whispered in your ear, "Would love to hear more of it but I'm going to need you to stay quiet for me. You think you can do that?"
"I can try," you answered honestly because over the course of yours and Tom's relationship, you've found out that it's extremely difficult for you to stay quiet when it's him taking the reins. And that's when he's taking things nice and slow.
Tom shrugged as he stood straight to his full height, one hand on the small of your back to hold your skirt as the other gripped his length to line himself up.
"Good enough for me."
The second Tom pushed his tip into your entrance, a loud moan slipped past your lips, only to be cut off with your palm flying to cover your mouth. Seeing your hand over your face, an idea popped into your head then.
"Tom, can you—" you stopped yourself, insecurity coating your skin in fear that he'd find the proposition odd.
But that never is the case when it comes to Tom, always understanding with whatever it was you were needing. Besides, you'd already spoken, his movements immediately stilling as he rubbed reassuring circles on the small of your back.
"Go on, angel, tell me," he urged. "What do you need?"
You looked at your boyfriend shyly. "Can you put on your glove for me?"
Never have you ever seen the cockiest smirk grace Tom's features so quickly.
"You really love seeing me in the complete outfit huh, love. Well, minus the trousers for now." He reached down to grab the glove from his pocket, leaving kisses down the back of your thighs on the way. Once he stood back up, he put it on without hesitation.
"Where do you want it?" he queried, running his now gloved hand over your ass before squeezing it, eliciting a soft moan from you. The real leather material felt warm and slightly coarse against your bare skin, a feeling that was quite electrifying but that wasn't exactly where you wanted it to be.
Well, not right now, at least.
"I think I might need a little help to stay quiet," you admitted, voice merely above a whisper but loud enough for him to hear.
Tom nodded, smirk never wavering as he ran his hand up your spine, passing your shoulder until it was over your mouth. Your back arched with a soft gasp as he pressed his palm over your lips, his fingers squeezing your cheeks just enough for it to feel electrifying but not to hurt. You started breathing through your nose then, a habit you've grown accustomed to and rather skillful at due to other—yet quite similar—activities that involved Tom.
"Fuck, look at you," he growled lowly, gawking at your reflected image. "My pretty little angel is not looking innocent anymore."
It was rather simple yet dirty how you appeared in the mirror, bent over in a public bathroom, being fully clothed reflecting the desperation to satiate the desire, your skirt fully hiked up to expose your bare ass to the cold air, and how your grip on the marble hadn't loosened which you for sure will feel the sting of later.
But what completed the obscenity but mesmerising scene was the way Tom was standing behind you, half-naked from the waist down, one hand curled around your hip tightly that made his bicep flex, the other held over your face to muffle out your sounds, white golf glove perfectly harmonised with the silver glint of his Rolex.
You were perfectly, utterly, submissively in Tom's mercy.
"Just tap my hand if you want to stop, alright?"
You nodded, humming into his hand, sound swiftly replaced by a lewd moan when Tom sheathed himself into you, your slickness helping by a mile for you to take him in easily.
"Fuck," Tom hissed as he threw his head back, eyes screwing shut with a low, rumbling groan when your walls fluttered to accommodate all of him, slowly pushing until you were filled to the brim. He shook his head with a harsh, shaky breath, gaze dropping to where you two were now connected. "I'm definitely not going to last. You always feel like fucking heaven, darling." He gripped your hip firmly, gaze locking with yours as he smugly said, "Now, let's see if I can break my own record of making you come in five minutes."
It was impossible for you to stop the sounds you were making when Tom moved, starting immediately with a hard, fast, and rough pace.
He was quick to fall into a rhythm, each and every single one of his thrusts charged with the frustration that's been threatening to spill for hours, all because of you. And now he was taking it all out on you in such a crude way, putting you rightfully back in your place, deep grunts accompanying each snap of his hips as he pounded into your cunt just like he promised.
Just like you wanted and exactly how you loved it.
Your breaths were getting harsher as they escaped your nostrils, mouth letting out noises between moans and mewls, whines and gasps, sounds muffled by the glove but never muted as Tom fucked you with an unrelenting pace.
His eyes landed back on the mirror, brown eyes close to black as he met for gaze, his tongue wetting his lips as he grumbled, "The glove isn't making much of a difference, huh, 'cause my angel is always so fucking loud for me."
The noises were crude as it bounced off the marble walls, your subdued moans married perfectly with Tom's low grunts. You could hear just how wet you were, mixed with the sound of skin slapping against skin, the front of Tom's thighs hitting the back of yours harshly in a way that it left a sting, but a sting that felt so good.
Your eyes screwed shut with a cry of his name when he angled his hips just right, the tip of his cock hitting that delicious spot inside you over and over. You started to move then, pushing yourself back against him to meet his thrusts, standing on the tips of your toes as you gripped the marble harshly, taking everything that he had to offer.
"Eyes open and look at yourself," Tom growled behind you, squeezing your cheek in warning that had you opening your eyes in a snap. "Yeah, look how gorgeous. Fuck, look how well you're taking my cock, angel," he praised between heavy pants.
There was something inherently hot about watching yourself getting railed from behind. Not only that, but getting railed from behind by a dashing Adonis of a man who was taking you as his, as you are taking him as yours.
Yet the fondness and devotion weren't missed despite how primitive his actions came across. You see it in the way his eyes would gloss over your form. Despite being in a rather compromising position, Tom still looked at you like you were the most beautiful girl he'd ever laid his eyes on.
The intimacy of seeing you both together, it was captivating. How Tom was watching you but you were watching him, yet his brown eyes mirrored the same amount of adoration and love reflected in your own irises.
It was a simple yet perfect balance of love and lust.
Tom cursed under his breath as his grip on your hip tightened, mouth parted with heavy pants, his tongue darting out every once in a while to wet his lips. His curls were sticking to his forehead, a gleam of utter bliss coating his brown orbs when it met yours. He immediately broke your gaze when he threw his head back, eyes screwing shut with a soft yet particularly beautiful moan, the sight making you clamp around him with a gasp.
You don't call Tom a 'pretty boy' for nothing.
A low growl vibrated in the back of Tom's throat then as his head dropped. His brows furrowed in concentration, lip drawn harshly between his teeth as he watched the view that only he can see at the moment, his cock slipping in and out of your cunt lusciously.
"Feel so snug around me, love. My cock fits so fucking perfect—shit, it's like you were made for me."
Each drag of his length against your velvety walls was like a strike to light a single match. Your body was starting to burn up, your shirt sticking to your body as you sweat profusely, a poor attempt of your skin to compensate for the heat.
But still, you loved it.
You were wholeheartedly and unashamedly addicted to the flame that only Tom can ever set ablaze.
You felt that familiar knot in your stomach already beginning to curl, your legs quivering underneath you and it was only a matter of time before they're going to give out.
"Fuck, you're squeezing me so tight, angel," Tom moaned lowly, eyes scanning through yours in the mirror. "Close?"
You nodded hastily, eyes pleading as you asked silently for permission since you couldn't use your words yet.
Tom's hand left your hips to grab your shoulder, pulling you up swiftly until your back was flushed against his chest, angling his thrusts upwards to hit that perfect spot in you. Your hand flew behind you to grab onto the back of his neck, your other hand gripping at his ass in an attempt to hold on to anything, to ground yourself as you slowly float into pure ecstasy.
With his gloved hand remaining over your mouth, his other hand travelled down in between your legs, fingers immediately rubbing against your clit to push you over the edge first before he did, as always.
A whole new wave of pleasure washed over your body then, your fingers digging into the flesh of his ass with a choked cry, sound barely muffled by the harsh leather of his glove.
Tom growled into your shoulder at the sharpness of your nails, yet your harsh grip seemed to only spur him on as the movements of his hip only grew faster.
"So fucking tempted not to let you finish," he grunted into your ear. Your eyes widened as it snapped to meet his gaze on the mirror. Tom chuckled darkly at that. "What? You think brats deserve to come?"
You shook your head frantically in protest, letting out rushed sounds between sobs and whines, coming out as murmurs against his hand.
"Ssssh don't worry, I'm gonna make this as your warning for now," Tom hushed, littering your shoulder with reassuring kisses. He rubbed your clit faster, a loud cry erupting out of you, which Tom was quick to press his hand down harder on your mouth to muffle it out. "Go on, love, you can let go."
You were right at the precipice as tears started to settle on the corners of your eyes, and with the way Tom's thrusts began to stagger, you knew he was, too. His gaze remained locked with your as he kept up his pace, the work of his fingers in sync with each sharp yet satisfying draw of his cock against your tightening walls.
White stars began to blur your vision, body burning in blue flames, and the last spark that lit your fuse into an overwhelming explosion was the sound of Tom's deep, guttural growl against your ear,
"Cum for me, angel."
Your hand slapped over Tom's gloved one to muffle out your scream as you felt the coil snap, head thrown back and digging on his shoulder, eyes screwing shut as your body convulsed. The grip of your hands on him was harsh, perfectly mirroring how your cunt milked his cock as you reached your climax, which in turn, triggered his own.
"That's it—fuck!" Tom bit your shoulder harshly in an attempt to tone down his loud growl of your name, a yelp escaping your lips at the harshness of his teeth digging into your skin. He spilled into the condom with deep, heavy grunts, thrusts turning sloppy as he rode out both your highs.
He removed his gloved hand off your face, curling it on your waist as his movements turned languid. He whispered reassuring words and loving praises into your ear, a mixture of 'Did so well for me, angel' and 'I've got you, my love' sweetly aiding you as you came down from your peak.
Tom immediately stilled once you shook your head meekly with soft whimpers, his finger swiftly leaving your sensitive clit when your thighs pressed together reflexively to prevent overstimulation. He slowly pulled out then, you wincing at the faint sting to which he was quick to mutter gentle apologies with tender kisses on your shoulder to match.
The second you felt fully empty of him, your legs quickly turned numb, limbs growing limp as if all your strength had been fucked out of your body.
Well, to be honest, it practically was.
You felt yourself slip into a daze, eyes fluttering close as your body grew faint in Tom's hold.
"Whoa careful," he rushed as his grip around your waist tightened before you could slip from his grasp. He turned you around carefully, grabbing your limp arms and slinging them around his shoulders. He leaned you gently against the countertop, keeping one arm strongly around your form as he cupped your face tenderly with his free hand.
"Hey, hey, look at me," Tom called softly, your eyes opening only halfway through as you looked into his brown ones. He smiled sweetly, sighing in relief as he whispered, "Hi there my beautiful girl."
You merely hummed in response with a tired smile, falling forwards to press your lips against his weakly. Tom chuckled between the kiss, thumb running over your cheek before he gently pulled away a few moments later.
"Here, how about you sit down," he said, reaching to lift the toilet lid up before gently settling you down on the seat. Pecking your lips briefly, he hummed, "Just give me a sec, okay, my love?"
You nodded, doing your best to slowly settle your racing heart, the numbness of your legs gradually leaving as you relaxed on the seat.
You merely caught glimpses of Tom disposing of the condom properly in the bin before he cleaned himself up with the wet wipes he took out of his pockets. He was already zipped up and properly dressed—tucked in and such—when he crouched in front of you.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, one hand running up and down your thigh in comfort as the other cupped your cheek.
"Amazing," you breathed out, leaning into his touch with a bright grin and a blissed-out look on your face.
"Yeah?" Tom nodded with a soft chuckle, pushing himself forward to leave sweet pecks on your lips before smiling at you adoringly.
You nodded. "Mhmm and tired."
"I bet you are," he hummed, offering you both his palms to take soon after. "You think you can stand up for me, love? I think it'll be easier for me to clean you up a little when you're standing."
"Tom, I got it—"
"Let me," he cut you off, kissing your forehead before he helped you back on your slightly wobbly but otherwise stable feet.
He urged you to grab the edge of the counter and bend over much like minutes prior but without any malice this time. Tom pulled out a few wipes from the packaging before he moved over behind you, crouching down and tapping your inner thigh, signalling you to spread them wider. He gently wiped you clean then, touches careful and tender around your sensitive parts, a quick apology leaving his lips whenever you wince when he accidentally nudges them too hard.
"And done," he said, placing a warm and loud smacking kiss on your bare bum which earned a giggle from you. He stood up to his full height, tossing the used wipes into the sink. You turned to face him, hands landing on his shoulders as you kissed him appreciatively.
"Thank you," you hummed against his lips.
"Nothing to thank for, darling," Tom murmured, arms wrapping around your form tenderly, keeping you close as you continued to kiss lazily.
It was unhurried without much movements involved, simply his lips pressed over your own, occasionally puckering up with sweet hums, and a few soft smacking sounds from Tom which in turn would make you giggle.
"Need to pee," you muttered after a few moments.
Tom nodded with a chuckle before letting you go, handing you the packaged wipes soon after. He busied himself as you went on with your business, cleaning up whatever it was that needed to be cleaned up, throwing the used wipes properly in the bin before he went and washed his hands.
He was fixing up his hair when the flush echoed in the bathroom, his eyes looking over at you with a sweet smile. "Good?"
"Mhmm," you hummed as you stood up, disposing of the wipes before moving over to the sink.
Tom snuggled up behind you then, his arms wrapping around your waist, his front pressed against your back. He left a trail of kisses starting from your clothed shoulder up to the side of your neck before moving back to your shoulder again, basically latching onto you as you washed your hands. He didn't let you go nor did he let you move once you turned the faucet off, his legs stretching into a split as he went to grab some paper towels from the dispenser on the wall so you could dry your hands.
You couldn't help but giggle, always finding it quite endearing how Tom's rather clingy after sex.
Once done, you turned in his hold, both your arms snaking around his shoulders. His hands reached over to fix up your skirt, straightening out the fabric before he wrapped his strong arms around your waist.
"You want to put your underwear back on?" he asked, softly nudging the tip of your nose with his.
"I think I'm a little sensitive to put it back on," you admitted shyly as you shook your head no, heat quick to dust your cheeks at the simple reminder of what you two just did minutes priors. A reminder you know is going to linger for a couple more hours.
Yet an immediate look of worry covered Tom's face upon hearing your words.
"Does it hurt?"
"Just a little sore," you hummed, preparing yourself for Tom's usual round of check-ups.
He's always so fussy whenever you try something new or sometimes slightly intense in the bedroom—well, in this case, a bathroom—even more so whenever you disclose the tiniest bit of ache. It was endearing, your heart melting at the seams at the simple act of thoughtfulness and the utmost care from your ever so loving boyfriend.
"How about somewhere else?" he queried, cupping your face with both hands as he turned your head from one side to the other, scanning your skin for any signs of visible discomfort. "Your cheeks, jaw, neck, hip—"
"They feel fine, bub," you giggled.
"Wait let me—" he paused, fingers hooking on the collar of your shirt, confusion filling your bones until you saw him scan your shoulder. The crease on his forehead deepened, guilt coating his eyes, no doubt seeing the mark his teeth had left behind. "Shit, darling, did I bite too hard?"
"On the shoulder...yeah," you admitted honestly, never resulting in downplaying when it comes to things like this, even if it's something so small. Tom would know anyway if ever you try to shrug it off, passing it as not a big deal when in fact it is. And it would only make him think you don't trust him enough to voice out your concerns, good, bad, and serious—extending outside the bedroom.
As you expected, his guilt only grew as his eyes widened. "Fuck, love, I'm sorry—"
"Hey, no, it's okay," you reassured, fingers taking home on the nape of his neck, gently scratching his scalp there. Tom groaned softly at the feeling as his head fell back, eyes fluttering close. You giggled at his puppy-like tendencies. Kissing his jaw, you reminded, "You already know I like it when you do it."
"Well, yeah, I know," he murmured, the apples of his cheeks turning pink, spreading up to the tips of his ears as he dropped his head, shyness coating his features as he met your eyes.
Between the two of you, Tom's the one who likes to bite occasionally. Whether it's gentle nips or a little bit of a sharper bite, the harshness depending on what mood he was in or what point he was trying to get across. His shyness was rather adorable when he brought it up with you the first time. And to this day, he still gets timid about his little habit even though you've told him countless times how you like it and how you find it quite hot when he does it.
He nudged his nose against yours tenderly, a small frown gracing his lips as he sighed, "But not too hard."
"Tom, it's fine, you just got a little carried away," you hummed, grin widening as you raised a knowing brow at him. "Which has led me to believe you got a good one."
His smirk made an appearance then. "I did," he said, voice falling down an octave. "A really, really, really, fucking good one, probably the best one yet, if I'm honest."
Your laugh echoed around the space, nodding in agreement. "I could say the exact same thing," you giggled, though the sound faded when you saw the apprehension flash in his eyes again, his smile disappearing. Cupping his cheek, you asked in concern, "What's wrong?"
"Was I too rough?" he whispered, eyes looking through yours hesitantly.
"Tom, you were perfect," you said wholeheartedly, gaze filled with utmost sincerity as you held his brown hues. You combed your fingers through his hair, pushing back the curls that landed on his forehead before you went and cupped his warm cheek. "You're always perfect."
Tom nodded softly with a soft breath of relief, apples of his cheeks turning pink as he leaned in to kiss you adoringly, squeezing your waist gently in appreciation. Pulling away, he tilted his head at you. "You sure you're feeling okay?"
"Golden, I promise," you giggled but there was no ounce of uncertainty in your tone whatsoever.
Tom smiled softly, eyes flickering through yours before they went over the whole expanse of your face. He was staring, the curve of his lips gradually growing upwards each time his gaze passed your eyes, your nose, your lips, trailing from the top to down, and then back up again.
"Now, why are you looking at me like that?" you murmured, snapping him out of his reverie as he hastily met your eyes.
Tom shrugged, his hold around you tightening with a soft breath. "Will never get used to how you look even more beautiful after," he admitted, grin turning slightly mischievous as he added, "You know, post-sex glow and that."
You giggled, tracing his face with your finger, starting from his crown, to the crinkles of his eye, his rosy cheeks, his jaw before stopping at his chin, your thumb running over his still swollen lips before you cupped his face. "Could say the exact same thing about you," you hummed.
He chuckled shyly, turning his head to kiss your palm tenderly. Though a second later, a smirk graced his lips.
"I just had sex in a public bathroom at a clubhouse," he stated proudly, grin wide and cocky as he shook his head as if it was something he couldn't quite believe.
"What? You did? Me too!" you gasped exaggeratedly. "Believe it or not, I was actually there with you."
He rolled his eyes at that. "Ha, ha, very funny," he grumbled, though a sweet smile soon appeared on his face, the tip of his nose brushing against yours as he sighed, "I'm glad you're my first with this."
You felt your heart burst at the seams, a bright smile erupting on your lips.
"And I'm glad you're mine," you whispered, meaning in more things than just now but also, how lucky you truly are to call him yours, to have such a caring and attentive boyfriend, both in and outside the bedroom.
Tom smiled, eyes twinkling, showing you that he understood what you meant and that he feels honoured. "Have I told you how much I'm in love with you?"
"Hmm, I think I need to hear it more," you joked.
Tom laughed heartily, arms tightening around your form to hold you down before he went and showered your face with loud smacking kisses, sweet 'I love you's uttered every time his lips touched your skin. You squirmed in his hold with nothing but joyful laughs erupting out of your lips. He ended his affectionate Tom-foolery with a loving, passionate kiss on your lips, a satisfied hum vibrating in your chest as you held him close by the back of his head.
"I love you," Tom whispered, his breath hot against your lips once he pulled away, the sincerity of the simple yet powerful three words shining in his eyes, beautifully drawn in the depths of those brown swirls you adore.
"And I love you," you said breathlessly, eyes twinkling to show how absolutely enamoured you are with the man before you. After a few silent moments, you hummed, "We should probably get out of here."
Tom nodded with a chuckle. "I'll check outside first if there's anyone around the hall. I'll knock three times once the coast is clear," he instructed, giving you one last kiss and before he did exactly as he said.
Thankfully there was nobody outside or even around the area, the hall practically the same when you entered it, empty and quiet.
Somehow, you and Tom managed to get back into your seats at the restaurant with only a nod and a glance from the two boys. A quick question was thrown asking if you felt better to which you meekly responded with a 'Yes.'
You couldn't help the fluttering from erupting in your stomach though, since your definition of 'better' and as to why you felt better wasn't as innocent as the question had suggested, and it was quite thrilling to keep a dirty little secret only you and Tom know.
The chatter continued with the three lads. You were unable to give your two cents since it was mostly about golf. But still, you listened, and did learn a few more things about the sport.
Tom was being much livelier and more interactive than he was before you left for the bathroom. It was hard trying not to break out into a smile, knowing why exactly he was in such a good mood all of sudden. The change would've been questionable but nobody else seemed to notice as you finished a round of drinks without raising any suspicion.
Or so you thought.
The soft hum of the engine was somewhat calming, added with the soft tune of the radio as the four of you made your way home. Harrison was driving, Harry riding shotgun while you and Tom were in the backseat.
You were slowly but surely dozing off as you rested your head on Tom's shoulder, the random yet comforting circles he was drawing on your knee lulling you to sleep.
There was no doubt that you were a little tired, probably from spending most of the whole morning walking around the course under the hot, blaring sun, but mostly because of the just as sizzling event that happened in the bathroom.
Though much to your dismay, the boys in the front somewhat noticed your drained state.
"That must've been a large dump, huh?" Harrison suddenly spoke up, the tone in his voice enough to prove that he knew more than he was letting on.
"Oh no," you groaned, stomach curling with dread, already knowing where this was going but wishing for it not to be the case.
"But Tom's only three inches though, so not that large," Harry quipped.
You would've laughed at Harry's joke if you weren't busy dying from embarrassment, because after that comment, it was settled that they already knew.
You draped your arm over Tom's torso as you hid your face on the crook of his neck, letting out another sound of mortification. Tom was quick to wrap both his arms around you protectively, one arm wrapping around your waist as the other snaked over your shoulder, helping you curl into a ball to hide in embarrassment.
"Piss off, Harry," Tom grumbled, squeezing you comfortingly.
Harrison laughed, "Now I get why the sausages at the restaurant didn't agree with you, Y/N."
"Yeah, because the only sausage you agree with is Tom's," Harry finished the joke, the loud sound of the two boys high-fiving vibrating through the whole car as if it was the most ground-breaking penis joke in the world.
"Oh god," you groaned, snuggling deeper into Tom's side even though you couldn't go any further anymore, your palm moving to cover the rest of your face that was shown.
The joke was funny and clever, and again, you genuinely would've laughed if you weren't busy digging your hole to disappear into.
Knowing the lads for a bit of a lesser time than Tom, you were still getting used to their teasing jokes, especially the explicit ones. Being inexperienced, your shyness wasn't easy to shake off. You couldn't help your embarrassment from growing tenfold whenever a few or more sexual jokes and innuendos get thrown about from time to time, even more so when it involves you and Tom.
They knew when to hold it back though, making sure they weren't making you uncomfortable and you adore them for it. But either way, it didn't make it any less embarrassing that they now practically knew what you actually did in the bathroom. And it wasn't anywhere near taking a decent dump.
"Leave her alone, you dickheads," Tom said, firm enough to warn the boys but not explicitly out of anger.
You've assured him it was fine and you didn't mind the teasing here and there. It was just simple jokes between friends. And to have the boys include you in that, it could only mean they're comfortable having you around their circle, too. It was like a rite of passage somewhat, and you wouldn't have it any other way. Plus, never did they ever cross a line, always respectful and you adore the friendship you've grown with all of them.
But still, Tom's protective nature is a little hard to tame sometimes.
The two lads were still snickering amongst themselves. Tom wanted to shut them up but simply used the wrong words.
"You fuckers, quit thinking about it."
"Ah, so you two did do it," Harrison hummed, nodding his head slowly as he kept his eyes on the road.
"None of your fucking business," Tom grumbled, though his lack of an answer was still somewhat of a confirmation itself.
"Ha! Harry, you owe me one!" Harrison exclaimed.
Tom's arms tightened around you then. "You assholes did a bet?"
"I said you didn't have the balls to do it in public," Harry pointed out.
"And I said you're too much of a horny fucker not to I mean we've seen how much you've been eyeing Y/N the whole day," Harrison argued, glancing at you both over his shoulder as added, "It would've been borderline creepy if you aren't her boyfriend, Tom."
You giggled at that and you felt Tom's body relax beside you, a soft kiss landing on your temple as he squeezed your waist.
"True, you really haven't been the best at hiding your boner either and I don't think golf excites you that much..." Harry trailed off, an over dramatic gasp escaping his lips soon after. "Or maybe it does?! Tom, does golf give you a hard on?"
That made you burst out into a hearty laugh, lifting your head away from your hiding spot only to see how red your man's face had gotten.
"Fuck off," Tom scoffed, but with how close you were, you saw the faintest twitch of his lips. You didn't know if it was because he found it funny, too, or merely because you laughed—which he always likes to remind you that it was the sweetest and most contagious thing ever.
You didn't get a chance to come to a conclusion when Harry called your attention.
"Y/N, is it true?" the younger Holland asked.
You turned to look at the red-head in front, brows furrowed in confusion. "What?"
"That Tom's sausage is only three inches?" Harrison explained, eyes locking with yours through the rear view mirror with a wide smirk.
"Stop calling my dick a sausage, you creep." Tom gently kicked the back of the driver's seat, Harrison quickly complaining about the leather.
"Come on, Y/N, speak your truth," Harry urged, an evil grin on his lips as he nodded at you encouragingly, so obviously trying to get you on their side to gang up on Tom.
With a soft sigh, you curled into your man's side again, going back to your hiding spot right on the crook of his neck.
"Yeah, it is," you lied.
"Darling!" Tom protested with a whine.
The two boys in front laughed boisterously as they high-fived among themselves again, and you couldn't stop your own laughs from escaping at the sight.
You heard Tom sigh beside you, so you went and kissed his neck sweetly, silently telling him you were only joking. You knew Tom didn't mind, it was a simple exchange of banter between friends, and you knew he enjoyed it when you and the boys got along, even if at his expense. Plus, the kiss on your forehead and the squeeze of your waist reassured you of that.
"You should take a nap now before we get home," Tom murmured against your temple. Before you could even ask him why, you felt your stomach curl for a different reason this time when soon after, he grumbled lowly against your ear,
"You know I keep my promises and I'm far from done with you yet, angel."
✫*゚・゚。.★.*。・゚♛ *.
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©️ t-lostinworlds, 2021
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wazzupmrstark · 4 months ago
dirty reflection || th x reader
Summary: fulfilling a long held fantasy with your boyfriend (cockwarming him in front of a mirror)
Warnings: swearing, smut (18+)
Word Count: 2.9k
A/N: this was a piece for @honeymoonlover's birthday that i inserted tom into :)
"Tell me!"
“No, I’m too embarrassed!”
You turned away from your boyfriend on the couch with your arms folded across your chest in protest. If there was anyone who could get you to spill something it was Tom, but you were determined not to break.
“Please, baby?” he asked again, and walked around to the other side of the sofa so that you could see his big brown eyes.
You squeezed your own eyes shut, as to not let him guilt trip you and shook your head stubbornly. Tom let out a sigh of frustration and you thought that maybe he had given up until you heard him chuckle above you.
“Fine, then I guess we won’t have sex at all.”
You opened your eyes again and stared at your boyfriend in disbelief. He smirked.
“You heard me.”
You narrowed your eyes. “You’re bluffing.”
“No,” he insisted, doubling down. “If you won’t tell me what you want, we won’t have sex until you do.”
“You know what I want! You already know how to make me feel good.”
“I thought I did,” he huffed, sticking out his bottom lip in a pout.
“You do!”
Tom raised his arms above his head, bringing the hem of his t-shirt up to reveal a small strip of his stomach and the elastic of his Calvin Klein’s. You sucked in a breath and pursed your lips, ignoring the sight before you.
“But not this!”
The this he was referring to was just a silly fantasy of yours, one that you had purposely kept secret because you were embarrassed to admit to wanting something so... filthy. You had never planned to fulfill it- you were more than content to simply imagine the scene playing out when Tom wasn’t home, and use your own hands instead of his to take the edge off. But as of 20 minutes ago that wasn’t an option anymore because your boyfriend had come across your messages with your best friend about that very fantasy.
He hadn’t meant to pry. He had just gotten home from shooting and grabbed your Mac off of the coffee table to check Twitter. You weren’t around, but he always used your computer to scroll through social media anyway so he figured he didn’t need to ask. Your last iMessage conversation with Sloane was still up, and he went to minimize the window when he read his name at the top of one of your blue bubbles. He knew he shouldn’t have been reading your private messages, but he couldn’t stop himself.
s: you should just tell him
y/n: idk how to bring it up
s: it’s not that hard
y/n: would it be weird to ask you to tell him for me?
s: bitch yes
s: i don’t want to talk to your bf about your sex life
y/n: tom knows you though! You could just sneak it into conversation casually yk?
s: i’m not telling him you want to be-
That was as far as he got before you walked back into the room and he slammed the laptop shut in panic, looking like you’d just caught him watching porn- which to be fair, you had done before.
Before you could say anything, or even process what had just happened, Tom flipped it around on you.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
Your brain still hadn’t processed the situation so you furrowed your brow in confusion. “I don’t know what you mean-”
“Why are you talking to Sloane about our sex life?” he demanded. It finally clicked. “And what about it is so terrible about it that you don’t want to tell me yourself?”
“There’s nothing terrible about it!” you assured him.
“Then what?” His face was starting to turn red like it did whenever he got worked up. “Have you been faking-”
You could feel your face starting to heat up as well at the implication.
“We were just talking about a dumb fantasy of mine, that’s all.”
And that’s what led you to where you were now, staring each other down over the edge of the couch, daring the other to be the first to break. The room was still filled with tension, but there had been a shift in context.
Tom's eyes were dark and nearly unreadable in the dim light of your living room.
“You’re really not going to fuck me until I tell you?” you asked. He nodded again in earnest, and raised his eyebrows expectantly. “But what do I get out of telling you?”
He gave you a look like it should have been obvious. “We’re going to do it.”
You hesitated. “What if you’re not into it?”
He shrugged and brushed off the possibility. “I’m into whatever you’re into.”
“I don’t know about that.”
“I promise,” Tom said and pressed a kiss to your lips as if to seal it. “I’m not going to judge whatever it is you want me to do to you. No matter how gross it is.” You scoffed and swatted at him, but he dodged your hand easily.
“I can’t stand you,” you muttered.
“Oh, is that why you’re always kneeling for me?”
“Do you want me to tell you or not?”
The smirk fell from his face as he hastily cleared his throat and beckoned for you to continue.
“You know that mirror we have in our bedroom?” you asked.
Tom nodded, a grin playing at the corner of his mouth as if he had an idea about where this was going.
“I’ve always wanted to cockwarm you while we sit in front of it.”
Your boyfriend was smiling from ear to ear now. He had you right where he wanted you.
“Is that all?” he asked.
“I mean, pretty much, yeah.”
“Pretty much?” The next part you mumbled under your breath. “What was that?” Tom asked, leaning over the couch so that he could hear you.
“Yes,” you bit out and clenched your jaw in a pathetic sort of pout.
“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” he teased, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “Okay, get up.”
“What, why?”
“I’ve got some lines to read over. You can keep my cock warm while I do that.”
“Right now?”
“I thought that’s what you wanted?”
“It-it is.”
“Then get up.”
You did as you were told and stood up from your spot on the sofa, watching as Tom grabbed the back of one of the kitchen chairs and began dragging it behind him.
“I don’t want to ruin our armchair,” he said as an explanation and jerked his head in the direction of your bedroom, motioning for you to follow him.
The mirror in your bedroom was one of your favorite things in the house. It sat on the floor leaned up against the wall with a large ornate frame encompassing it. It was almost taller than you, and weighed about sixty pounds. Its gold paint was chipping in the corners and it was a bit scuffed up, but it was still the best find you’d ever made at the antique fair and you stood by that. You still remembered carrying it home the day you bought it. Tom had filmed the process instead of helping, watching you struggle with the newspaper-wrapped package through the screen on his phone with a smug grin on his face the entire time.
Tom set the chair on the floor in front of the mirror and began to strip, pulling off his hoodie first before shimmying out of his joggers. You followed in suit by unzipping your skirt and letting it fall to the ground. You stepped out of it and went for your shirt next, yanking it over your head. Your hands went for the clasp of your bra after that before thinking twice.
“Do you want my bra off or-”
He seemed to think about it for a moment before answering. “Leave it on.”
You nodded and dropped your hands back by your side, watching him grab his notebook from the desk and settle on the chair. He was completely naked now, and you were left in just your underwear, a scene you both were intimately familiar with.
He spat into his palm and took his cock in his hand, pumping a few times before you stopped him.
“Let me,” you offered, kneeling on the floor in front of him.
He groaned and handed over his control easily. You grinned to yourself before taking him in your mouth. You knew he’d never pass up an opportunity to have you suck him off.
You worked slowly, taking your time, enjoying the feeling of him getting hard on your tongue. Tom gripped your hair with one hand and clutched his notebook with the other. He fought to keep his eyes open, to keep his head upright. In the mirror he could see the back of your head bobbing up and down on his lap, the expanse of your back, every scar, freckle, and mole he’d seen a thousand times before but now from a different angle.
You hollowed out your cheeks and took him to the back of your throat, trying not to laugh when you heard him curse.
“Stop,” he breathed out, pulling you off of him by your hair. “You’re a menace.”
You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and smiled. “Thank you.”
He glared at you for a moment before flicking his gaze downwards.
“I’d ask if you want me to return the favor, but I don’t think I need to.” He reached out to prove his point and brushed a couple fingers over your panties, ignoring the way you trembled as he did. He held his hand up to you to show you the wetness gathered on his pointer and index before bringing them to his lips and sucking it off. “You’re plenty wet already.”
You suppressed a moan and pursed your lips, nodding in agreement.
Tom didn’t have to say anything for you to know what he wanted next. You slipped out of your panties and tossed them to the side. He wrapped an arm around your waist as you straddled him and lined yourself up. You both sighed as you sank down onto his cock. He kissed you deeply, winding a hand through hair and moaning your name. You let your head rest against his shoulder and tried not to rock your hips forward. Your boyfriend was having similar issues, hips stuttering underneath you, head falling back in pleasure.
“T-tommy,” you gasped.
“Don’t,” he warned through gritted teeth. You clenched around him involuntarily and whined. “What did I just say?”
“Sorry, can’t help it.”
He took a deep breath and began flipping through the pages of his notebook. You craned your neck to look back at your reflection in the mirror, smiling weakly at the sight. Tom had an arm slung loosely around your waist still. His cheeks were rosy and warm to the touch. Your ass was on full display at this angle, but you didn’t mind. You knew it was your boyfriend’s favorite view anyway, and you weren’t ashamed to admit that you could see why.
The way you were seated on his lap made it look like you could have just been cuddling. The reflection didn’t show Tom's cock buried deep inside your pussy and your breathing had slowed to somewhat of a normal pace.
Tom began to recite his lines to himself and you turned your attention back to him, admiring how he looked while he was concentrating. His eyelashes were so fucking long, it was something you had always been jealous of. The light filtering into the room made them look blond...
You were doing so good. You were relaxing comfortably, lost in your own thoughts, when Tom moved for the first time. He was just scratching his ankle, but the sudden movement made you yelp.
“Don’t do that!” you cried.
“What, this?” he asked and bent down to scratch his ankle again.
“Yes, that,” you growled.
“Why not?”
“You know why.”
“What about this?”
He leaned back and stretched his arms above his head.
“That’s worse!” you hissed.
“No you’re not.” He just shrugged and tossed his notebook on the bed. “Don’t you have work to do?”
“Could use a break,” he replied simply, “and it’s hard to focus with distractions.”
The last part was pointed at you and you narrowed your eyes.
“I have been perfectly still.”
“Yeah, but your... impatience is, well, physical.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re soaking, love.”
You looked down at Tom's lap and suddenly realized what he meant. Your arousal was quite literally dripping onto his thighs and the chair beneath you. That was why he didn’t want to use the armchair. You felt your face heat up in embarrassment and buried your head in your boyfriend’s shoulder.
“Fuck, I’m sorry!”
He chuckled and rubbed a hand up and down your back comfortingly. “Don’t be! I know you can’t help it, and it’s honestly really fucking hot.”
“You’re not just saying that?”
“No,” he promised and shook his head adamantly. “I like that I have this effect on you.”
You rolled your eyes. “Don’t let it go to your head.”
“Too late.”
“I know.”
“So this fantasy of yours,” he said, clearing his throat. “How does it end?"
“On what?”
He raised an eyebrow. “What about me?”
“Whatever you want.”
“I get to pick how it ends?”
“Mhm. I usually leave it up to the imagination so it’s open-ended.”
“You mean when you masturbate to it you cum before it ends so you lose interest?” Tom clarified.
“I know you,” he said cockily.
“And like I said, you know what I like.”
“I like to think I do.”
“So tell me what to do.”
“You just like being bossed around.”
“And what about it?”
“Brat,” he spat.
Tom smiled and jerked his hips the slightest bit, making you whimper. “Stand up.”
You tried not to show your disappointment, but did as you were told and stood up, wincing at the empty feeling that followed.
“Just for a minute, baby,” he assured you. “Turn around.”
You turned so that you were facing the mirror and let yourself be pulled back onto your boyfriend’s lap. He slid his cock back inside of you almost immediately and praised you for taking it so well.
“I thought you should see yourself,” he whispered against your shoulder.
You moaned, only able to nod in agreement. You were positioned at a bit of an angle now since you were facing forward, but any discomfort you felt evaporated when Tom kissed the back of your neck. He unclasped your bra and let it fall to the floor.
“Look at you,” he murmured as he urged you to start riding him, “fucking yourself on my cock like a slut.”
“Fuck, Tom.”
You forced yourself to look at your reflection, straining your neck so that you could see clearly. You made eye contact with yourself only to see a stranger stared back at you. The person in the mirror looked like a fucking pornstar, tits out, legs spread, but also fucked out of their mind.
“Feels so good,” you panted.
“I know, baby, I know.”
Tom brought a hand down to your clit and started to rub in circular motions, a clue that he was getting close. Your legs were shaking at this point and you could feel your own orgasm starting to creep up on you as he slammed into you from behind.
“You look so fucking hot like this,” Tom grunted.
You met his eyes in the reflection and gave a weak smile. “I know.”
“Fuck, y/n!” He came suddenly with a moan of your name. You watched in the mirror as his eyes screwed up and his whole body tensed underneath you.
“Can I- can I cum?” you begged, not even sure if you’d be able to hold out if he said no.
A mere nod of his head was all it took for you to tip over the edge. Tom weakly fucked you through it, still riding the end of his own high.
“So good for me,” he managed in broken breaths.
You arched your back against his chest as you came, mumbling profanities the entire time. You tried to keep your eyes open to watch yourself fall apart, but you only caught glimpses.
You collapsed back against Tom as the aftershocks of your orgasm subsided, gasping for breath like you had just finished running a marathon.
“Thank you,” you whispered.
Tom wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close, kissing the top of your head gently. You were both covered in sweat and cum, but neither of you could find the energy to care.
“Of course.”
You let yourself relax against his body for another moment, observing your reflections in the mirror. Your hair was a tangled mess, but so was Tom's. Hickeys were already beginning to bloom on your neck and shoulders, reminders to follow you in the days ahead.
Your eyes wandered up to meet your boyfriend’s, who was already gazing at you tenderly. You shared a brief look and smirked at each other.
“Round two?”
lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!
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hollandcrush · 8 months ago
Ok what about tom posting a picture in his bathroom and in the picture you can see the two handprints on the shower stall where you were getting absolutely railed just a few moments ago, and the fans are talking about it on twitter and stuff lmao that would be so funny
ahahha i love your mind !! i had so much fun writing this. hope you like it x (requested part two - sleeping beauty)
in love with an idiot
word count: 893
warnings: slight smut, talk of impregnation, fluff, one booty grab, cursing, and tom being a div.
“Shit, darling.” He panted, reaching his climax. His cock twitching as he unloaded every drop deep into you. Your walls clenched around him, milking him as he painted them white.
The glass was foggy, due to the heat of your bodies and the water that streamed, soothing your sore muscles. Hands were pressed against the glass, along with your chest, as you both came down from your highs.
Once your breathing calmed, and bodies relaxed, Tom pulled out, a mix of arousals seeping out of your core. The sight was pure porn, causing Tom to groan. “If you aren’t pregnant now, I don’t think you’ll ever be.” He chuckled letting the water clean his body.
Your legs were shaky as you stood up straight. Tom wrapped his arms around you, supporting you as he pulled you close to place kisses on your cheek and temple. You giggled at the softness of your boyfriend. “Tommy, what’s your obsession with getting me pregnant. I told you, gotta put a ring on it first.”
He pouted at your statement. “Darling, I’m gonna marry you, but the thought of you pregnant with my kid- fuck.” He moaned against your ear.
You rolled your eyes, quickly cleaning your body with the water. For some reason, shower sex always happened after you went through your routine, too lazy to repeat the process, water would have to do.
Finished, you quickly turned off the jets exiting the shower, Tom following close behind. You grabbed a towel, drying the excess water off your body. Tom began to hum a tune, doing the same. You loved his voice but refused to admit it as you knew he was quite self-conscious about it.
Enjoying his soft voice, you were interrupted by your phone buzzing from the bedroom. You scurried to the sound, leaving Tom to his own demise. Wrapping the towel around his waist, he took a glance in the mirror. And he liked what he saw. He had bulked for a movie and now was cutting. Abs were defined as well as his pelvic bone. Knowing his fans would go crazy, he decided to tease the fangirls and boys with a quick and harmless thirst trap.
Grabbing his phone from the countertop, he opened up the Instagram app, posing in front of the mirror before taking a quick snap. He smirked while pressing the post button. Your voice rang from the other room, talking to a friend about some drama. He quickly fixed up his appearance, drying his hair with the towel before walking to join you in the bedroom.
You bit your lip, phone held up to your ear, not paying attention to your friend anymore as you watched his naked body stroll to the dresser. Unable to resist temptation, you gave a quick grab to his ass as he picked out sweats from the drawer. “Darling!”
A quick laugh slipped from your lips at his reaction before you placed your attention back on the conversation. The only words leaving your mouth were “really”, “no way” as your friend continued her rant. Tom got comfortable on the bed, waiting for your arrival. He watched as you tucked the phone between your ear and shoulder, multitasking as you began to get dressed.
“I will see you soon! Okay. Bye, bye.” You said as you hung up the call. Letting out a huff you threw your phone onto the bed. Tom spread his body, like a starfish, welcoming you to cuddle. You accepted, jumping into his arms. “Oof.” He grunted at the collision. “Lil baby. Weakling.” You mumbled.
Just as you were getting comfortable, Toms phone rang. “Its Harry.” He announced, answering it.
“Mate, how are you?” He quirked seeing the familiar red curls appeared on his phone.
“You are a fucking div.” Harry stated at the oblivious boy. “Yeah mate, you're a proper div.” Harrison's voice added.
“What are you on about?” Tom groaned at their insults. “What did he do now?” You interjected.
“Y/N, you promised you’d babysit him!” Harry exclaimed, causing Tom to furrow his eyebrows. “Babysit me? I don’t need a babysitter. You’re annoying me now Harry.”
“Check your IG.” And with that, he hung up.
You flipped around so your back rested against his chest, to have a better view of his phone. Tom did as told opening up the app, clicking on his new post. He immediately went to the comment section.
tomhollandlover1996: TOM AGSHSJKL NO. WHO IS THE LUCKY GIRL!????
jakegyllenhaal: It hurts to find out this way :( I’ll be sending your lawyers the divorce papers.
tuwaine: someone is having fun... 
“Tom.” You growled, “What did you post?” 
“I just posted a normal picture. Look!” He explained, showing you the pic. At first, your eyes were distracted by his physique but they widened when you noticed the background, jaw instantly dropped. You were in love with an idiot.
“Tom, the glass.” Tom's eyes snapped towards the area in question. “Oh fuck.” He mumbled, his features grimaced realising his mistake, preparing for your lecture.
“You can see the handprints– my tit prints as well. I, I am speechless. How– I mean. Fuck Tom.” You huffed in frustration, annoyed at his careless antics.
He cleared his throat trying to lighten the mood. “So, I guess I should introduce you to my fans. Maybe a cute appreciation post?”
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ptersmj · 8 days ago
hey i saw this on tik tok and i had to read it so could you write an angsty fic where the reader is mad at peter/tom for something and their punching his chest and he lets them until they just break down crying and it’s like super soft thank you 🤎🤍
Tumblr media
warnings: swearing and angst
a/n: we all know how i feel about angst to fluff hehehe happy reading <3
eight months, three weeks, ten days, nine hours, fifty six minutes, and fourteen seconds.
exactly how long it’s been since peter left and took part of you along with him.
he ditched queens for asgard, wakanda, whole different fucking galaxies. he ditched you for the avengers.
there was an open spot on the team for peter. he’d finally felt he was ready to claim it. yes, the people of queens needed him. but, he was also needed elsewhere and far more so. he had no choice but to step up.
that meant he had to say goodbye. to aunt may, to his friends, to you. peter didn’t simply bid you farewell and head on his way, though. he ended things.
for good.
ever since, you’ve been learning how to mend your broken heart. it’s a work in progress. you know deep down that a piece will always be missing as long as peter still has it.
you haven’t stopped loving him, even though it would be so much easier if you had.
eight months, three weeks, ten days, nine hours, fifty six minutes, and fourteen seconds later, someone knocks at your door.
your healing heart shatters when you answer.
you thought you were better. you thought you were moving on.
then, peter showed up.
“no,” you choke out, swinging the door closed in his face. he holds out a hand to stop it. “y/n, wait. please hear me out.“
you make another attempt to force the door shut. tears well up in your eyes, peter pushing it back open.
there’s no use in fighting him on it. he’s too strong.
peter’s own eyes are pleading. the guilt, the remorse is written all over his face.
the two of you just stand there, neither sure what to do next. it’s been so long. yet, you still feel the same. you love him and hate him and crave him as much as you did the day he skipped town. you’ve carried that with you, let the pain control your every waking moment.
peter steps forward to come inside. you step back, angry tears running down your cheeks.
“you don’t get to waltz back in here like you never fucking left,” you spit. hurt flashes across peter’s features. “i’m not… that’s not what i’m trying to do,” he speaks calmly.
scoffing, you wipe the tears dripping down your skin.
“what are you trying to do, peter?” you demand. “why are you here?”
you notice the cuts carved into his knuckles as he wrings his fingers nervously. a faded scar peeks out from the hem of his sweater, and you don’t even want to imagine what bruises he has under it.
“it was time to come home,” peter admits, clasping his hands behind his back when he catches you looking. “because… you’re my home, y/n. i made a mistake, and i’m so sorry.”
you wish he would’ve said that a lot sooner.
“i don’t believe you one bit,” you dismiss peter. you move out of the doorway so you’re closer to him. “where were you?”
peter doesn’t say anything. he doesn’t even react when you jab a finger at his chest, the ragged breath you let out fanning across his face.
“you were gone almost an entire year, and i didn’t hear shit from you!” you shove peter backwards, shouting through your sobs.
he stumbles, but quickly finds his footing.
“no calls, no texts. you could’ve been dead in a ditch for all i knew,” you laugh bitterly. “it’s not fair, peter. i don’t understand how you could leave me like… like this!”
your fist collides with peter’s chest once again. he lets it, which makes you somehow angrier. you do it again, and again, and again until it’s out of your system and fresh tears are flowing.
“where the fuck were you?”
your voice cracks, fingers hooking in the collar of peter’s sweater and gripping onto it. you feel your knees starting to grow weak.
peter springs to action. he helps you into your apartment despite your refusals earlier, shutting the door behind you two. at last, you fall to your knees and pull him down with you.
he brings your head to rest on his chest, where you instantly bury your face. his fingers weave into your locks, free arm wrapping around your middle.
he’s holding you the tightest he possibly can, afraid he’ll lose you if he lets go.
“i’m here now,” peter coos, running his fingers through your hair carefully. “i shouldn’t have left before, but i’m here now.”
his lips brush your temple, other arm trailing down to your middle. both your arms hook around his waist. a whimper escapes you, peter shushing you and resting his chin on the top of your head. he presses more kisses to your scalp, you nuzzling into the crook of his neck.
“i love you, peter. i’m… i’m sorry,” you manage to get out, pecking a spot on his neck. he smiles to himself at your words.
“i love you, y/n. i’m sorry, too.”
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blindingdutchy · 3 months ago
No but tom fucking me while he wears a hoodie is something I have spent a LOT of time thinking about
okay okay, i couldn't see this and NOT write something so...
lazy lover | t.holland
{boyfriend!tom x fem!reader}
word count: 2,022
warnings: smut... as expected
warnings: unprotected sex (wrap it up folks), oral (f receiving)
Moments like these were your absolute favorite. Just you and Tom, cuddled up on the sofa with the soft illumination of the television solely lighting the room. It was storming outside--loud, heavy rumbles of thunder shaking the house slightly, and you could just barely make out the startling flashes of lightning over the tops of the closed drapes.
Perfect weather for snuggles and scary movies, but Tom being the softy he is absolutely refused to watch anything of the sort. So, you'd resigned to watching some romantic comedy for the millionth time. If you were honest, you hadn't watched a single moment of it; instead, you had spent the past hour just closing your eyes in bliss as you carded your fingers through your boyfriend's messy curls and smiled each time he giggled at the screen.
He was your favorite movie, by far. You wished you could see his face, but from this angle you could just barely make out the adorable crinkle of his nose each time he grinned. Tom was sprawled out on top of you, his head nestled over the middle of your chest, and his legs were all tangled up with your own as he laid between them.
It was more than a little stifling in the room as you were caught up in the heat of his body radiating through his lavender hoodie and your own, both of your sweatpants clad lower limbs wrapped up in a fluffy blanket. Somehow, in both of your minds, the storm had translated to meaning cold, when in fact that was far from the case. It was cozy, though, and that made up for the slight dampening on your hairline.
"Hm?" you hummed, that all too familiar flutter in your heart buzzing out through your body at the sound of Tom's sweet voice.
He nuzzled his face further into your chest, nose buried in the space between your breasts as his hot breathe scorched you through the fabric. "Mmmf yew," he mumbled, and you chuckled at the muffled sound of his words. Picking up his head, your breathe hitched at the darkened hue of his eyes beneath heavy lashes as he repeated, "Miss you."
Cozy turned to hot in an instant. In all the time you'd been dating Tom, you'd come to know one thing--miss you was not something he ever said when you'd been apart for too long. No, miss you was only spoken whenever the two of you had been too close for too long, and he was missing a little something more.
Tom's arms wrapped tighter around your middle, his face burying back into the bunched fabric between your breasts as he lazily pressed opened mouthed kisses through the soft cotton. He left a trail of wet patches in his wake, and your fingers froze in his hair as he found your hardened nipple under your shirt and wrapped his lips around it. "Tom." you gasped.
You tugged at his hair gently, coaxing his face away from your now dampened shirt to look at you. His lips were puffy and reddened from the fabric, a few pressure marks stretching across his right cheek, and he looked so... soft. He looked warm and inviting, like a mug of hot cocoa on a cold winter evening or a crackling fire during a snow storm.
Not a word had to be said for him to know what you wanted. He scooted up the sofa and further over your body until his center was pressed into yours, his lips coming down onto your own in a lazy, slow kiss. You sighed into him, parting his lips with your own as you abandoned his hair to slip your hands under his sweatshirt and trace your fingers over his bare skin.
It was languid and sleepy, like a fire that had burned itself down to a hot, glowing ember. Tom's arms were planted on either side of your head, caging you in place as he dragged his kiss from your lips and down to your jaw. He nipped at the sensitive skin behind your ear, swiping his tongue over the flesh until you whined and he sucked hard to leave a mark of his own.
"Tom, please," you whimpered, rocking your hips up into him, "I need you."
He grinned into your neck, leaving another mark for good measure before he sat up onto his knees between your legs. There was something so beautiful about him like that; this soft, sweet man bundled up in cozy layers that heavily contrasted the dark, heady burn of his gaze. His fingers tugged at the waistband of your pants, and you lifted your hips to help him drag them from your legs--panties too, leaving you bare aside from the baggy sweatshirt that had ridden up your stomach.
Eyes glued to the warmth between your legs, Tom licked his lips, "Fuck, I've missed you so much."
You bit your lip hard, shivering as his fingers ghosted over the chilled skin of your now bare thigh. Already knowing exactly what he was thinking of, you pleaded, "Please, I just want you--"
"Hush, darling," he simpered, "I want to have a taste."
Tom climbed off of the sofa, dropping to his knees on the floor beside you as he grasped your hips in his hands. Thumbs soothing over the skin, he pulled until your legs were dangling from the edge and your core was inches from his face. His eyes truly sparkled then, glimmering at you lustfully as he smiled to himself.
He didn't waste any time teasing, and your hands fluttered helplessly around you to try and ground yourself when you felt his lips wrap mercilessly around your clit. Diving in head first, literally, Tom gripped your thighs to keep them spread apart as he licked fat stripes through your folds. Sparks shot through your entire body each time he curled his tongue around your bud, swirling and sucking around the nub tirelessly.
It was a little pathetic how easily he pulled you to the edge, your stomach all twisted up in knots as you trembled all over. What else was to be expected though, when the two of you had been together for so long? Tom knew your body like the back of his hand, an expert in all the little things that made you tick--like the way his eyes flickered up to watch you watch him make you feel good.
The sight of his brown eyes watching you like a hunter watching his prey, dark and greedy, got you every time. Squeezing your thigh, Tom teasingly kissed your clit and pulled away with a cheeky wink at your groan of frustration. The tension in the pit of your stomach ebbed away, the quivering of your legs ceasing as he patted your hip and mumbled, "Slide up, princess."
Cooing at the name you loved to hear him speak, you scooted back up the sofa until your head fell onto the armrest once more. He didn't even take his pants off when he climbed back up between your legs, arms caging in your head once more. His lips tasted of you as he kissed you, tongue slipping into your mouth as you tugged at his pants eagerly.
"Please, Tommy, I miss you."
Tom's breathe hitched at the sound of you speaking his words, and a little desperately he inched his pants down just enough to free his length from them. You moaned at the sensation of his warm skin falling against your thigh, his tip slipping across the slick mess dripping down your legs. Not wanting to wait for him to make the first move, you reached down to wrap your fingers around him.
He hissed at the contact, hips instinctively rutting into the contact as he groaned, "Fuck, princess--"
The words were lost as you dragged his tip through your folds, teasing your clit for a moment before lining him up. His eyes screwed shut as he sank into you, lips parted in a silent oath, and he crumpled down until his chest was pressed to your own. Your legs wrapped around his waist, and you clutched the fabric of his sweatshirt in tight fists as you arched off the couch in pleasure.
Giving you a moment to adjust to the stretch, Tom buried his face into your neck with a muffled moan, "Always feel so perfect, princess. So tight f'me every time."
Tom rocked into you slowly, nudging deeper and making you whimper as you clenched around him. You didn't have to say a word for him to get the message--his hips pulling back before pushing forward again deeply. It felt as if you could feel every last bit of him; every line and ridge of his length dragging along your walls perfectly as you moaned.
You were clawing at his back, fingers slipping over the cotton that was somehow far more slippery than bare skin. If you had thought it was hot in the room before, it was nothing compared to the sweltering temperature between the two of you in that moment. Your hoodie was bunching further under your breasts with each of Tom's thrusts, the fabric of his own scratching at your bare skin from multiple angles.
Sure, you'd had sex with clothes on plenty of times. Rushed and risky encounters in pub bathrooms, your dress bunched up around your hips and his trousers pulled down to his thighs, but this? Tom, suddenly so desperate for you, fully dressed in a hoodie and sweatpants on the sofa? This was new, and it was hot.
The movements were lazy and slow, his lips sleepily suckling at your neck as he panted into your skin and moaned in your ear huskily. You were a withering mess, sweating all over and trying to hold onto him in any way you could to keep from drifting away in bliss. Each sloppy thrust into your heat had you calling his name, begging for that release to finally wash over you.
"Tom, 'm close."
He leaned further onto one arm, lifting the opposite shoulder to slip his hand between the two of you. His hips never faltered as he swiped his fingers through the slick mess between your legs, swirling around your clit smoothly. "Cum for me, princess, wanna feel you." he encouraged, dark eyes blearing down at you hazily.
His cheeks were all red, and his curls were sticking to his forehead with sweat. Lips parting, you panted desperately for air as your stomach began to tighten immeasurably. It was almost too much--the look of him, the feel of his cock languidly finding its home deep within you, over and over. His fingers still rubbing slow, deep circles to your sensitive bundle.
With a sharp inhale, you cried out, "T-Tom!"
The knots in your belly exploded, stars bursting in your eyes as you clenched your entire body around him. Thighs squeezing his waist tightly, fingers clawing so harshly into his sweatshirt you finally found purchase in the skin of his back, and your walls clamped down around his length. "Oh, fuck, princess!" he heaved, eyes screwing shut and nose crinkling as he stuttered in his movements.
Tom's lips parted in a guttural cry before he dropped onto you entirely, arm pinned between you as he continued to ride you through your orgasm with his fingers. He pulsed inside of you, and after a few seconds he gave a loud sigh as a warmth spread through you. Your legs were trembling as you dropped them onto the sofa again, smoothing over the fabric of his hoodie as you finally released your grip.
But, when he moved to pull away, you pulled him back and mumbled sleepily, "Can we just stay like this for a bit?"
Smiling with heavy eyelids, Tom nodded and kissed you softly, easing back down again. You groggily brushed the curls from his forehead and grinned back, humming in appreciation when he rested his head on your shoulder again. His lips ghosted over your neck as he murmured, "I love you, darling. S'much."
"I love you, Tom."
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