#tom holland smut
Need You Now
SMUT!!! MINORS DNI
867 words of Tom Holland devouring Cunt in belated honor of National Eat Pussy Day
Your ass met the cool stained oak of his desk top, thighs spread as Tom stood between them. His lips on yours, tongue exploring every section of your mouth with such intensity you were sure he could draw a detailed map of it when he was done.
“Tom, you have a meeting” you mumbled, your lips detaching from his as he began to mouth along your jaw, his hands sliding up your thighs and hooking his fingers in the space between your tender skin and the waistband of your panties.
“They can wait” he murmured, voice thick with arousal as it weighed heavy on his tongue.
Your fingers encircled the soft silk of the lapels on his suit jacket, tugging his chest flush to yours. His nails scratched softly against the skin of your thighs as he dragged your panties down to your knees, letting them fall freely down to your ankles before slipping them off your feet. Kneeling down between your spread legs.
The friction of silk slipping from your fingers brings, your need to grip onto something, to ground yourself from the euphoria that erupted through you with every heated kiss Tom placed from your ankle all the way up to the place you both wanted him to be.
Your digits instinctively weaving their way through his dark golden duted locks, tugging from the scalp as you tried to pull him closer to you but he fought against your force, starting with eyes blown wide at the arousal that coated the flesh of your cunt, nearly dripping onto the wood beneath you. His mouth thirsting to taste you, and though he could normally admire your needy pussy for hours, teasing until you writhed beneath his touch , this time he wanted you, needed you, now.
Without another moment's hesitation his lips met your folds, studded muscle tracing your velvety ridges, licking laces you didn’t know he could get to with just his tongue. Normally he would spread you open with two fingers parted in a V-shape but not today. Today he was freestyling, his face buried between your thighs as both his hands dug into the supple rounds of your ass, urging you to grind against his face, crooked ridge of his incorrectly set nose digging into your clit, the upward motion of his head as he licked viciously over you entrance lifting the hood of your clit, exposing it to further stimulation, sparks erupted across your body. The entirety of your vulva being overtaken by a familiar heated sensation, your cunt dripping on Tom’s chin as you neared your peak.
He pulled back slightly, taking a deep inhale that you interrupted, wrapping your bare legs around his shoulder and pulling him back into you. His eyes widened with surprise, finishing what was left of his intake of air with his lips against your clit. His nose being overtaken with the scent of you, his brown eyes rolling back in his own pleasure, the only noises in the room being that of your soft euphoric moans and Tom’s tongue delving in and out of your cunt.
“Tommy, I-I’m close” you whimpered, eyes clenching shit as you reached the brink of your orgasm, a hum of acknowledgement leaving his spit and slick curated lips as he sped up his movement, pushing you over. Topping linto what felt like never ending ecstasy as your body seized against his face. He licked mercilessly even when you started coming down from your high, but your body never got the chance to to replace as Tom’s licks and sucks didn’t stop. He was still in between your thighs, devouring every drop of cum that leaked from your spasming walls. His tongue dipped into your entrance, feeling the rigid muscles squeeze him, his nose buried in you, every breath tainted by your thighs closing pussy lips around him. You tried to tug him away as your second high neared, not sure if your body could handle it, but Tom didn’t stop, taking as deep of a breath as he could and pressing his face farther into you. The way he moaned into you as you gripped his hair, pushing you deeper into the pleasurable abyss, eyes trapping shut as your body from. It seemed like you left this world as your body wracked with euphoria, every feeling other than the blood coursing the fireworks through your blood shutting down.
When you came back, your ears started to comprehend noise once again, you heard Tom cough, licking your juices off of his lips, trying to catch his breath. Your eyebrows rose with worry as you leaned forward, catching his chin and bringing his gaze to you.
“You okay? Don’t need you suffocating before your meeting” you reminded
“I’d happily die from suffocation in your pussy” he assured, making you laugh heartily, slapping his chest, your fingers grazing the cum that now stained his dress shirt as you did.
“Get to your meeting and maybe I will let you suffocate yourself again later” you teased but he just raised his brows.
“Maybe?” he asked rhetorically, making you question your wording as he squeezed your hip “Love, I’m going to have you begging for it”
8 notes · View notes
Summary: In a fit of jealousy, Tom embarrasses you in front of your new friend and the entire pub, leaving you heartbroken at his reckless actions.
Word Count: 4.1k
Warnings: Swearing, angst, slut-shaming
a/n: hi! sorry this took so so so long for me to get out! i got super busy with other works, but i’m super happy with how this turned out :) i hope you enjoy this, and don’t worry, i know how scary those warnings look ^ but this ends happy, i promise! as always, comments and reblogs are appreciated <3
Tom was an idiot. He was an actual fucking idiot. He now realizes that as he watches you run out of the pub with hot tears streaming down your face. He watches as Harry runs after you, your bag in his hand, probably to make sure you make it back home safe since there was no way you’d return to the crowded bar, where Harrison and Sam were giving Tom death glares, the same little pub where Tom had made a complete fool out of you.
The few months Tom came home to London were always the setting of your most cherished memories. Sometimes it seemed like when he left so did the whole group of friends you surround yourself with.
There was no doubt in your mind that Tom was the life of the party. He had a certain aura about him that caused some of the most fucked up, but amazing situations to occur. That was probably one of the reasons you loved him so much.
When he was in town, his brothers, Harrison, and Tuwaine all joined together to make the next few months memorable before he had to leave again, and you were always included, but when he was gone, Harry usually went with him, Harrison focused on work for himself, and Sam focused on his restaurant. The world slowed down after Tom left, and so many times, you were left to wait for his return; alone.
Tom hated leaving you behind every time he went back to the states, but you had such deep roots in London, he didn’t want to pry you from your family for months on end. He loved you too much to constantly subject you to his hectic lifestyle. He spent as much time with you as he could when he saw you, but the second he had to go, it was all tearful goodbyes in a crowded airport.
You and Tom had been best friends for decades at this point. You supported him no matter what it was that he wanted to accomplish. He’s even said in interviews that he credits a huge bulk of his success to his friend back home, then he’d give a wink to the camera, and you always knew it was for you.
When Tom came home after filming Spider-Man: No Way Home, you practically tackled him to the ground in a hug.
“You div,” You mumbled into his neck, “you forgot to let me FaceTime with Zendaya.”
“Oh, shit!” Tom gasped, finally remembering your request to talk to your favorite actress, “my bad.”
You looked at Tom incredulously, “I don’t think I can be friends with you anymore.” You feigned hurt, clutching your hand to your chest, “it just hurts too much.”
“That’s a damn shame,” Tom frowned, “I mean, I could just FaceTime Zendaya now, but if that’s how you—”
“I changed my mind,” You smiled sweetly, cutting him off, “love you, bestie.”
Tom rolled his eyes and pulled you into another hug, “Missed you, bestie.”
“Um,” Sam, Paddy, and Harrison stood behind you, clearing their throats.
“Missed you guys too,” Tom sighed, and he rushed over and gave his brothers and friend a hug.
You gave Harry a hug while Tom chatted with his brothers, quickly catching up with him.
“What’s the plan for tonight, guys?” You spoke up.
Every night after Tom got back, he’d go back to his flat and take a nap before a night out on the town. Usually, you’d bar hop a bit before going to a club, so tonight wasn’t likely to be any different.
“I was thinking we could get dinner at Lorenzo’s,” Harry said, “then maybe hit the pub on Ashford?”
You and the others nodded in agreement as you made your way out of the airport.
“Can I invite my friend Avery?” You asked.
Tom nodded, “Sure, I didn’t even know you had any other friends, (Y/N),” he joked.
“Haha,” You laughed sarcastically, “gee that was a good one, Tom. You really got me.”
“What can I say?” He smirked, “I’m a comedian.”
“Is that the guy you met in your philosophy lecture?” Harrison butt in.
“Yeah,” You nodded, “he’s really sweet, so be on your best behavior guys, and maybe don’t be yourselves, just this once?” you suggested with a slightly teasing tone.
“Are you trying to impress him or something?” Tom inquired.
“No,” You scoffed, “I’m just trying to not throw him to the wolves.”
Tom laughed along, but it was strained. He wasn’t too keen on the idea of adding a new member to your friend group, and the little glint in your eye when you talked about Avery made his heart tighten.
“Okay,” You smiled as you set the last of Tom’s luggage in his living room, “I’ll let you get some sleep then.”
You gave him one last hug and a kiss on the cheek, “see you later.”
Tom reciprocated and inhaled the sweet smell of lavender in your locks of hair, “mhm,” he sighed, “see ya.”
Harrison was about to walk out after you when Tom grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him back, “Mate, what the fuck.” he grumbled as he stumbled over his feet, “I thought you wanted to take a nap?”
“I slept on the plane,” Tom explained quickly, “you’ve been here the whole time, right?” Harrison nodded, “so you know this Avery guy, yeah?”
Harrison shook his head, “I haven’t talked to (Y/N) much this past month, but he’s probably on her Instagram.”
Harrison pulled out his phone and looked at posts you’d been tagged in, “Ah, here.” He handed the phone to Tom and pointed to the tall blonde guy in a group photo with you and some other friends, “He’s the tall blonde.”
Tom studied the picture with a small frown, “They’re not dating though, right?”
“She said he was her friend,” Harrison shrugged.
“You know what I mean,” Tom rolled his eyes, “do they look really chummy to you?”
“His hand’s kind of close to her butt, but other than that I don’t know.” Harrison pointed it out, causing Tom’s heart to momentarily stop.
“Ok, new plan,” Tom announced, “I’m going to ask (Y/N) out tonight.”
Harrison scoffed and rolled his eyes. “What?” Tom wondered.
“You’ve said that almost every single time you’ve been home and you always chicken out.”
“No, I don’t!” Tom gasped in offense, “It’s just hard to find the right time.”
“You’ve literally had hundreds of opportunities to tell her how you feel, Mate.”
“It has to be perfect.” Tom insisted, “I can’t just ask her out of the blue, I have to butter her up first.”
“Oh, fuck off,” Tom groaned, “get out, I changed my mind, I’m going to sleep.”
Harrison rolled his eyes and chuckled before giving Tom a pat on the back and leaving. Tom waved goodbye as Harrison drove away, and then rushed to his phone.
“FaceTime Zendaya,” he instructed Siri. The call went through and soon Tom was met with Zendaya's tired eyes in a dark room.
“Hey, Z!” Tom said cheerfully, “best friend, bestest pal in the world. The person that never wants to see me fail ever, my greatest companion—“
“Tom,” Zendaya groggily cut him off, “what the fuck do you want, I’m sleeping.”
“How do you ask a girl out?”
Zendaya sat up a little more and turned on her bedside lamp, “What? You don’t know how to ask a girl out?”
“Well I do,” Tom backtracked, “but I want it to be special. I’ve been in love with this girl for nearly two years now and every time I go to ask her out, I chicken out.”
“I don’t know, what does she like?”
“Well one time she told me her favorite animal was a sea otter, should I get her one?” Tom pondered, hand resting in his chin in thought.
“Um, no, what the fuck?” Zendaya squinted her eyes at Tom, “have you gotten any sleep yet?”
Tom shook his head, “This is important, Z, now help me!”
Zendaya rolled her eyes, “I’ll text you some ideas, but for now just go get some sleep. With how tired you are now you’d probably call her the wrong name or something.”
Tom rolled his eyes, but the action caused his eyelids to droop even more, “Fine, fine,” he conceded, “I’ll let you know how it goes.”
“Okay,” Tom announced at the restaurant before you arrived, “I’m going to ask (Y/N) out tonight so I need you all to shut up and not distract me or make me nervous.”
Harrison, Harry, and Sam just stared at Tom. Tuwaine, for some unknown reason, started clapping.
“Tom,” Harrison began, “no offense, but—“
“Ah ah ah,” Tom stopped him, “is what you’re about to say going to bruise my ego?” Harrison thought about it for a moment before slowly nodding, “okay, then shut the fuck up, respectfully. I don’t need any bad juju tonight.”
“Well, I’m happy for you, Mate,” Tuwaine nodded. He was the closest to you after Tom and he knew all about your crush on the brown-haired Brit. You might’ve let it slip once when you were drunk, and since you didn’t willingly tell Tuwaine, he was sworn to secrecy. “I’m positive she’ll say yes.”
“Thank you,” Tom smiled at him, sending a slight glare to the others for their lack of faith in him. “As for the rest of you, I can’t wait to prove you wrong.”
You walked into the restaurant with Avery hunched over from laughing so hard. Tom smiled in your direction and waved you over, “Hey, (Y/N/N)! Over here!”
“Wow,” You chuckled, “must’ve been a good nap. Little energetic there, huh?”
Tom went in to give you a tight hug, holding you close, “Just missed you,” he mumbled into your hair.
“I just saw you a few hours ago?”
Avery stood by you awkwardly, waiting for Tom to release you. Tom reluctantly let you go and pulled a chair out for you, next to him.
“Thanks,” you smiled at him, motioning for Avery to sit next to you, “hey, everyone,” you smiled at the group of boys that were properly about to piss themselves at Tom’s over-the-top behavior, “this is Avery.”
“Hi,” He waved at the group as a small chorus of ‘hellos’ rang across the table. He turned to Tom to shake his hand, “I’m a big fan, Mate. Love your work.”
Tom smiled and patted him on the shoulder, “Thanks, it means a lot.” smiled politely, shaking Avery's hand.
Dinner went off without a hitch, at least in your opinion. Avery was melding well with your friends and he was cracking jokes like he’d know the group for years.
The boys seemed to enjoy his sense of humor and what he added to the conversation. Sam and him even found that they shared an interest in cooking, which led to them having a slightly heated discussion about how real Gordon Ramsey’s cooking skills are; which ended in laughs.
However, Tom was probably having one of the worst nights of his life. Every time Avery playfully shoved you while you two laughed he wanted to wring his neck. It also didn’t help that he couldn’t find the perfect time to ask you out. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to ask you out with all of his mates around.
Tom smiled and laughed along with the jokes, but once you looked away he was back to frowning.
“Tom,” Harry nudged his brother, “wipe that scowl off your face.”
“I’m not scowling,” Tom grumbled, “this is my normal face.”
Harry rolled his eyes and kicked his older brother under the table, “You need to ask her soon. I think Avery is trying to make some moves on her.” Harry noticed, seeing how Avery casually had his arm around your chair.
Tom rolled his eyes, “As if I can't see that for myself,” he scoffed. “I don’t want to ask her with all of you watching. What if she says no?”
“We can leave you alone for a bit when we go to the pub, but I’m not sure if Avery will go with us.” Harry shrugged, “you could always ask her out tomorrow.” Harry suggested.
“No!” Tom exclaimed, causing everyone to look at him and Harry, “Sorry, I—um, I just don’t really like that shirt on you Harry; it makes my eyes hurt.”
Harry looked down at his shirt for a moment and then frowned, sending a light smack to Tom, “You bought me this shirt you div.”
Everyone went back to their own conversations so Tom leaned in to talk to Harry some more, “I can’t wait for tomorrow. What if I chicken out again?”
“Then you’re an idiot.” Harry deadpanned with a shrug.
The pub was way more packed than anyone expected. The new addition of live music to the outside patio definitely livened up the place and more customers went to see what local band would be playing next.
The pub had a classic English pub feel, with the wood flooring and the yellow-tinted walls, but it also had a modern twist with a back patio and outdoor seating with fairy lights, and the lights that illuminate under the bar itself.
“I’m gonna go check out the band,” Harry announced after he came back with your drinks, “you guys should all come with me.” He said with a slight side-eye to Sam, Tuwaine, and Harrison.
“Eh, I’m not really into—” Sam began, but Harry sent him a quick kick under the table. “Ow! I mean, I love music.” Sam smiled enthusiastically.
“I’m gonna stay back and finish this beer,” Tom said, holding up the large pint of beer he was already a quarter of the way through, “(Y/N), wanna race to see who can finish first?” He suggested trying to get you to stay behind.
“Oh you’re totally on,” You smirked, “but I am going to take a quick peek at the band. We can race after I get back.” You got up from your seat and began walking away with Harry and the boys. Tom pouted at how horribly that plan worked. Harry looked back at Tom apologetically as he held the door open for you.
“Wow,” Avery smiled beside Tom, scaring him, “she really is something.”
“Holy shit, Mate,” Tom held a hand to his heart, “you almost gave me a heart attack. I thought you went with them?”
“Nah,” Avery shook his head, “I’m not really into music,” he shrugged.
“Oh, okay,” Tom nodded. “What were you just saying?”
“(Y/N),” Avery looked towards the back patio exit dreamily, “she’s amazing. I mean I would definitely ask her out, but probably not at a pub surrounded by her mates, y’know?”
“Mhm, yeah,” Tom said quietly, his heart already beginning to shatter into millions of inconsolable pieces. “I mean, she’s alright.” He said with a forced laugh, trying to fend Avery away from you, “she definitely isn’t really your type, though.”
“What do you mean?” Avery asked, taking a sip from his beer, “she’s perfect, mate.”
“I mean,” Tom racked his brain for an excuse big enough to make Avery not want you, “you don’t think it’s a little weird she’s in a friend group with all boys?”
“No,” Avery said slowly, skeptically looking back at the exit, “she just clicks with boys, I guess. Girls and guys can just be friends.”
“Not her,” Tom scoffed, “I mean, it’s just a little obvious, y’know?”
You and the rest of the boys were heading back in, seeing as the back patio was completely overcrowded with patrons.
“What’s obvious?” Avery asked, raising his voice slightly due to the volume in the bar.
“(Y/N)’s only friends are guys!” Tom nearly yelled over the volume of chatter, not realizing that the surrounding customers could hear him, “makes me wonder how many she’s slept with! I mean, that’s not a coincidence to me!”
The surrounding customers halted their conversations, leaving only Tom’s voice filtering through the air and into your ears.
“That’s crazy,” Avery chuckled awkwardly, “I don’t think she’s like that.” He shook his head, annoying Tom. In a final last-ditch effort to get Avery off your back, he said the worst thing he could, loudly, into a quieting pub.
“Well, she hits on me all the time,” Tom shrugged, “she’s just a bit whorish, I guess.”
“Tom,” Tuwaine cleared his throat, interrupting their conversation, “what the fuck, mate?”
Tom looked at all the boys next to Tuwaine, and behind them was you, teary-eyed with harsh sobs racking through your body.
You whispered something to Harry, and then all but ran out the front door. Harry walked over to where Tom was sitting and picked up your purse.
“Harry I—” Tom tried.
“Shut the fuck up, Tom.” Harry snapped, “You're an idiot and an asshole, just leave things be.”
Harry ran out the pub entrance, following you to give you a ride home.
Tuwaine, Sam, and Harrison shook their heads once the shock ebbed away. One by one they all left Tom sitting in shock and agony at the bar. Avery, not knowing any of the group, barely knew what was going on or if Tom’s accusations were correct, left the pub and went home without another word.
“Harry,” Tom whined into the phone, “please tell me how to fix this, please I’m begging you.”
Harry sighed, now properly regretting lifting his silent treatment from Tom, “Tom, there is absolutely nothing I can do to help you, and even if there was, I wouldn’t. You called her a whore in front of a crowded pub—”
“I know!” Tom yelled, “And I’ve been living with that guilt for three weeks now! Please, Harry. I-I messed up so bad.” Tom’s voice cracked, “I tried calling and texting, a-and my texts started turning green. She blocked me,” Tom sobbed, “I’m in love with her, and I never got to tell her. I ruined our relationship before it even began.”
“Yeah,” Harry agreed, “you did.”
“Harry, I just want to apologize properly, please.” Tom begged, “I tried going to her house, but her roommate threw a drink at me and told me she went out of town. Where is she?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Harry,” Tom sighed, “I’m trying so hard here, I don’t care where she is, I’ll go anywhere for her. Please, I just can’t keep waiting in the dark for her to talk to me.”
Harry sighed, rubbing his forehead, “Okay, fine, but don’t tell her I told you where she was. And if you get your face clawed off, just know that you deserve it.”
“Okay, okay, now tell me.”
“She’s been staying with Tuwaine and his girlfriend.”
“Okay, thanks, love you, bye!” Tom said through the phone, already grabbing his keys.
Harry sighed and began texting Tuwaine,
Harry: Tom’s coming over, don’t snap him in half, he just wants to talk to her.
Tuwaine: I’m not home right now, but I'd be more worried about her snapping him in half…
Tom pulled up the Tuwaine’s flat and pounded at the door. He didn’t see Tuwaine’s car in the driveway but he saw yours parked on the street so he knew you were in there.
“(Y/N)!” He desperately called, “Come on, I know you’re in there!”, his pleas were met with silence and he rang the doorbell on repeat, “(Y/N), please! I just want to talk!”
The door opened to show you standing there with your messy hair and stained sweats, still looking overwhelmingly perfect in Tom’s eyes. He noticed the dark circles and the dried tears and his heart broke, even more, knowing he caused this. He loved you so much and he caused you some of the worst pain imaginable. All he wanted to do was hold you and kiss your puffy cheeks, desperately whispering praises into your ear. You were perfect in every sense of the word, and he let you believe you were anything less. He was an idiot—the biggest idiot in the world—for making you cry.
“What do you want?” You snapped with a sniffle, pulling him back to reality as you rubbed your red eyes.
“I just want to talk,” Tom gave you a small smile, “please.”
“I don’t have anything to say to you.” You scowled, “You need to leave.”
“No, (Y/N), please.” Tom begged, “I’m sorry. I’m so so so fucking sorry. I was being an idiot and—please, (Y/N), you’re my best friend. I don’t wanna lose you.” Tom’s voice cracked, but you remained stoic in the doorway.
“I’m your best friend? Really?” You scoffed, “I thought I was just some whore you let hang around you?”
Tom winced at his words being thrown back into his face, “I didn’t mean it, I swear,” he promised, tears glistening in his eyes, “I don’t even know why I said that. I was being so fucking stupid—”
“No,” You interrupted his rambling, “you don’t get to say that. You don’t get to say that it was just you “being stupid”. Who the hell says that about their supposed best friend? Why would you even think that? You don’t just get to call me those things in public, and then say that you don’t know why you did it. You can’t even give me a reason—”
“I’m in love with you,” Tom blurted out, blowing out a puff of air in stress, “I’ve been in love with you for the longest time, (Y/N). And Avery was saying how he wanted to ask you out, and I couldn’t lose you. I didn’t want to lose you. I had so many plans for us, and I wanted to be with you—to be yours—more than anything, and I let my jealousy get in the way. I’m sorry because if I deserved you I wouldn’t have done that.”
You stood in the doorway of the flat, arms crossed over your chest. “I can’t believe you’d be so reckless.” You said after a moment of silence, “I would’ve been yours if you had just asked me.”
“I’m sorry,” Tom cried, reaching out to hold your hand, but you backed away ever so slightly, “please, I would do anything to fix it if I could.”
“You don’t understand anything, Tom.” You frowned.
“Help me understand.” He begged.
You pondered it for a moment and then released a sigh, coupled with a few tears, “I loved you,” you admitted. Tom’s heart did a leap, but then he realized that you were talking past tense as if his chance with you was gone.
“And I would spend months and months just waiting for you to come home so I could spend time with you. I was so lonely when you and Harry left; I always am. Avery offered to spend some time with me after class one day and I agreed because I don’t have anybody else when you leave. And it was fun, but he wasn’t you. He’ll never compare to the place you had in my heart, but at least I wasn’t alone anymore.” You sighed and began closing the door again, “Now, because of you, I have no one again.”
The door was about to slam back in Tom’s face, but he shoved his foot in the threshold, “(Y/N), wait,” he pleaded, “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize how important Avery was to you. I can never undo what I did, but please let me make it up to you. I just need you to understand how sorry I am.”
You opened the door again and looked at Tom’s sad eyes, boring into you, “I do understand how sorry you are, but I don’t know how I can trust you again. You said awful things about me without even batting an eye or taking a breath—”
“I know,” Tom sighed, “I know and I’d give anything to take it back. I just want you back (Y/N). Even if you don’t want to be my girlfriend, I can’t leave knowing I’ve lost my best friend.”
“As much as it hurts,” You caved, moving from the doorway to let Tom in, “I still love you, and I don’t want to lose you either.”
Tom smiled and walked into the flat, immediately pulling you into a hug, “I’m so sorry, (Y/N),” You hugged back and sniffled into his hoodie, before pulling away with a sigh.
“I know,” You nodded, “I forgive you. But next time, just be honest with me and tell me how you’re feeling. I’d give you the world if you asked for it.”
Tom smiled and stroked your tear-stained cheek, “I’ll just settle on your heart for now, if that’s okay?”
“That’s so fucking cheesy.” You giggled, wiping the tears from your eyes, “I love it.”
✧tags & moots✧ @ptersmj @princessofguineapigs @peterbenjiparker @cherrytholland @itsapeterthing @justapurrcat @thirstiestpotato @kelieah @iovebug @waitimcomingtoo @rosyparkers @parkers-gal @allegra-writes @starktonyx @celestialholland @hollandcrush @londonspidey @blissfulparker @spidernerdsblog @spidey-sophie @spideyspeaches @peterparkers-bad-youtube-apology @andilovetowrite @sinisterspidey @asonofpeter @westcoastcigar @arlo-sanders @love-peterparker @boiolay @letssee2468 @white-wolf1940 @fandom-life-12 @hollandsdream @annathesillyfriend @lovelybarnes @miseryholland @wierdteenagenerd @duskholland @hollandprkr @lauras-collection @arvinsescape @hollandsrecs
123 notes · View notes
bliss among sinners | tsh
synopsis ⇢ it’s february 14th, and you’re alone. as usual. your pity party leads to a shameful, pyjama-clad trip to the corner store for as much candy as you can carry. the last thing you want is to bump into an insufferable, frat-boy wannabe, who keeps popping up in the most inopportune moments and whose shit-eating grin hides something more sinister than he lets on.
↳ drummer!tom, sort of mob au
genre ⇢ fluff, angst, smut (18+ only; minors dni)
word count ⇢ 19.1k (lightly edited rip)
note ⇢ trying out a new writing style here by combining a draft of this fic i wrote years ago & my current one so i don’t really know how i feel abt it or this fic in general. i’ve never written a proper mob au before and this isn't your typical kingpin!tom, so it was... an exeprience, but super fun to write anyway. let me know your thoughts & reblog if you enjoy <33
++ thank you so much to @spydeysense for beta-reading parts of this <3
smut warnings ⇢ so much teasing, unprotected sex, degradation kink, exhibitionism, oral (fem receiving), fingering, dom!tom, grinding, thigh riding, spanking, obscene amounts of dirty talk, size kink, voyeurism by someone who is not tom or y/n lmao
content warnings ⇢ y/n being a hopeless romantic to the point it's cringe, violence, guns, stalking, mentions of drugs
For months, daydreams of this precise day have been plaguing you, running through your mind every conscious and unconscious moment like a marathoner, but reality seems intent on snapping you out of your reveries. All these weeks of sitting in class or leaning against the counter at work, visualising innumerable scenarios wherein you and your knight in shining armour are having the time of your lives on the one day in the whole year set aside just for love—shot dead all at once.
It’s no secret to you that you’re as hopelessly romantic as a hopeless romantics can get, and that quality only grows more emboldened in you as that one day of the year approaches.
You’ve imagined the man of your dreams to be wearing a black suit and tie, his hair brushed and his smile dazzling as he gazes upon you like you’ve fished out all the stars in the universe and placed them in your eyes. And you’ve imagined you would be looking even brighter, wearing a sumptuous ensemble that took weeks of extra shifts to afford, but it would be all worth it when he’d see you, a bewitching smile on your ruby red lips.
February 14th is supposed to be a night you will never forget in your entire life, a night you would look back on while in the loving embrace of your husband as you hold your children, laughing as you say wow, where did the time go? At least, that’s what you’ve gathered from watching almost every single romantic comedy in existence. It is most definitely not supposed to end up with you looking at racks of cheap cards for every possible occasion at nine in the evening with a frown so deep, wrinkles are setting in early.
You’re probably the only person in this small, twenty-four-hour store beside the clerk himself, who frankly looks like he’s contemplating ransacking the counter and running out.
Dozens of shades of pink and red meet your eyes as your fingers trail over the Valentine’s Day cards, a longing in your gaze that you wish didn’t show on your face so much. Cartoon hearts and cursive writing and glitter―a sight that makes your stomach turn in announcement of the oncoming Pity Party. Sighing, you trace the edge of a purple card and wonder where you’ve gone wrong. Not one of your friends or acquaintances is still single; everyone’s engaged or in a long-term relationship―hell, some people are even getting married and settling down together. So what did you do to deserve being the black sheep in the herd yet another time in your life?
With twenty-three years of failed lovers down the road, you still vividly remember your very first boyfriend, a chubby-cheeked and bunny-toothed boy by the name of Jason. The flame you two shared, powered by a mutual hatred for algebra and the emo phase all seventh graders eventually go through, unfortunately took a harsh turn when you found out he was only pretending to date you to get to your best friend. Unfortunately for him, the over-hormonal sack of baby fat he was didn’t get him far in that particular dream. At least his attempt at finessing you didn’t work.
Your only significant and somehow serious relationship came to you during your last year of high school. His name was Sebastian and he was the epitome of Prince Charming. With his soft brown hair and love-filled eyes, he swooped in on you like an eagle does its prey, yet you were too entranced by his gentle touches and whispered praises to realise. And for those ten school months, he made you feel like you were on top of the world, as if nothing could touch you as long as his arms were around you. But you should have known―the only way Sebastian could get off the high pedestal upon which you placed him was if he jumped down by himself. And he did just that when he informed you that he didn’t see any reason your relationship could last until the beginning of university.
Tears don’t well up in your eyes anymore at the thought of him, not as you stand under the bright industrial lights, a pop-up of Minnie Mouse staring at you with an almost teasing, evil glint in her big eyes―even a cartoon mouse has someone to love her, but you’re all alone. The clench in your heart and sweat gathering in your palms are no more, and you feel a minuscule sense of pride pinch at your lips―you’re no longer the same girl who would willingly open her heart to the first stranger she passes on the street.
At least, you don’t think so. Fuck, you hope not.
Looking up, your gaze locks on the security camera hanging overhead and your gruelling reflection staring back at you has you wincing. Contrary to the bougie look you envisioned for yourself on the days leading up to Valentine’s, your current getup is nothing fancier than grey sweatpants and an immense pink jumper hanging over your shoulders like it’s dragging you down. You’re not proud of it now, just like you’re never proud of it every time it happens, but the self-hatred kicks in like a vigorous wave crashing on a shore. Lord, what are you even doing with your life? Why are you putting yourself through such humiliation? Love is not something you absolutely need to survive. With intense emotions nearly making you dizzy, you almost miss him, until you look into your own black-and-white reflection one last time, and there he is.
Tall, lean, head covered in a grey beanie and walking straight towards you with the type of confidence that shakes solar systems. His hands are shoved into the pockets of his hoodie, combat boots click-clacking until he’s barely a foot away from you. A hand reaches out and takes an entire stack out of the rack in front of you, and―fuck―your heart almost jumps out of your chest. Your imagination immediately skyrockets, and you can’t help but wonder how romantic it would be to meet the one when you’re at your lowest point and, oh my, on Valentine’s Day, and what if he gives you the card he’s holding right now and says something so romantic, you’ll be immediately swept off your―
“What a load of horse shit.”
The cardboard gingerly held between your fingers falls to the ground along with your heart plummeting to your stomach in parallel. Of course. Of fucking course, he’s an asshole who knows nothing of love, like most men you’ve ever looked at twice and like all the men in this dingy college town. Disappointment crashes in your chest at the same time the stranger’s shoulder does against your own, and he puts his arm around your waist when you stumble from the contact, a small whistle leaving his pursed lips. With eyes as large as saucers, you finally get a good look at him.
His skin is pale with the remnants of a tan—ah, so he’s a rich kid who spent his winter vacation abroad, you think—and his hair’s a dark brown, curling lazily over his honey-coloured eyes. He whistles, thin, pink lips squishing together, the edge of his mouth soon curling into a smirk as he starts a not-quite-so-friendly greeting.
“If anyone had told me I would find such a beautiful sight at this dump, I would have come much earlier.” He sniggers your way, initiating what he thinks is seductive eye-contact, but it frankly renders you uncomfortable.
“Oh, but then you wouldn’t have seen me walking away from you like I will now.”
He grabs your wrist before you can do just that, the twitch of his lips growing wider. You try not to notice the warmth of his skin and the gentle way he touches you, completely rivalling the intensity of his grin, but the contact is so satisfying after you’ve walked fifteen minutes in the cold February air.
“What’s a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this?”
Can cringe set your ears on fire? This seemingly insufferable stranger only pushes himself close to you until you can smell the musk scent of his cologne and aftershave on the nape of his neck. Your senses are almost on fire from the proximity, not being used to such intimacy for so long, and now your entire body heats for a completely different reason. The man’s only said a handful of words and you’re already wondering whether you should just let the scowl take over your face.
“Well, not like this will interest the likes of you, but I came here to get Valentine’s Day cards.” You smile. “Have a nice day.”
“You can’t possibly believe that a cheap piece of paper can make anyone feel special.” He snorts out, and instead of making it seem like a question, his tone is almost challenging you to answer him.
“So I should stop believing actual declarations of love and care, and start taking your discount, corny, down-right uncomfortable pick-up lines to heart instead?” Scoffing, you turn away from him to put the card back as he watches you meticulously.
“At least my attempts are sincere, unlike this lazy shit a guy buys his girlfriend ten minutes before a date he forgot about.” The man retorts, delighting in the scowl forming on your face.
“Well, it’s a lot better to be lazy than to be a complete asshole to strangers.” You bite, taking hold of the ugliest, most cliché hot pink card and flashing it in his face.
His arms trap you between the counter and his own body, much to your dismay. It’s impossible to deny how almost unnaturally handsome he is up-close, from the light freckles on his cheeks, the specks of gold in his iris and the frilliness on his eyebrow. In pure it’s-been-too-damn-long culture, your eyes trace his own brown ones, sparkling with mischief, to his smooth cheeks and chiselled jaw.
“I don’t think you like me very much, which is a shame because you don’t even know my name, sweetheart.”
“Oh, don’t worry about me. My asshat radar is ever so efficient.” Winking at him, you place your hands on his surprisingly sturdy chest and push him away, taking in a short breath now that the warmth radiating from him is gone.
The smug look does not disappear off his face even after your rather blunt rejection. With the card held between your fingers, you walk away, feeling his eyes on the back of your head like a starved hawk. You’re not even sure why you’re heading towards the cashier since you have no one to gift the card to, but the last thing you’re about to do is give this irksome stranger, however beguiling he looks, the last word.
A sleepy gasp leaves the teen dozing off behind the counter when you smack the card in front of him, and he jumps up in shock. Grumbling nearly as much as him, you search through your pockets for spare change.
“Three fifty-five. Do you have our favourite customer card, ma’am?”
Fuck. The coins in your sweatpants only amount to three dollars and twenty-five cents—so close, but not enough. Mouth drying up, you fumble with your pouches for a few more seconds, hoping the half-awake kid doesn’t notice your predicament.
“Here. Put her stuff on my bill.” Your heart skips a beat and races once again as Beanie Boy comes up behind you, nimble digits handing the clerk his credit card.
“No, no, you don’t have to do that. I have―I’m perfectly capable of paying for my own lazy and cheap needs, right?”
He lets out a disbelieving laugh and ignores your picking his card out of the boy’s hand and slamming it on the counter. Unattainable, he calmly puts his credit card back into his jeans and throws a wad of cash as thick as your fist towards the teenager. The poor kid almost loses his footing, eyes wide open and unsure.
“Do not take his money.” You almost growl at the clerk, who pales and steps back with his hands up, like you’ve pulled out a gun and have it pointed at him.
The stranger puts his hand on your wrist, his voice a lot lower now, “Hey, consider it a gift; a Valentine’s Day gift.”
“That means very little to me after knowing your warped views and dealing with your insufferable attitude. Hell, you probably think the same about love at first sight.” Sneering, you grab the colourful card and scowl your way to the shelves with the dreadful man right on your tail.
“I assure you I’m quite the romantic,” he snorts, boots sounding out on the floor behind you, “I’m even trying to be your Valentine and you broke my heart twice in one night.”
You put the card back in its place before you turn to face him, biting the inside of his cheeks to retain himself from laughing. The disbelief on your face is more than clear, although you feel the corner of your lips twitching upwards, “You are the most annoying person I’ve ever met. Like, you realise we’re strangers and you’re getting on my nerves?”
“Got you to smile, though, didn’t I?” Your eyebrows immediately furrow at his complacent teasing, but it’s too late―he’s already seen the slight grin playing on your mouth.
For an infuriatingly stubborn man, it sure is difficult not to smile along with him. Truthfully—and sadly—this is the most action you’ve gotten in a solid six months and, while he’s tiresome and incredibly condescending, you find his banter amusing. Maybe your most dreaded day of the year isn’t going to be so hideous this time.
Mumbling curse words under your breath, you try to walk past him, but his long arms are two steps ahead of you. He smiles for real this time, all gummy-cheeked and showing his teeth with his palms coursing heat through the material of your sweater and the edge of his shoes mere millimetres away from your own.
“Listen, I don’t usually do this…”
“What, nearly get beat the fuck up by a stranger on Valentine’s Day in front of a teenager?”
“No, I do this every year. It’s kind of my version of kissing frogs until one of them turns into a princess.” His little giggle catches you off-guard, not expecting such a high-pitched, airy sound from, well, him. With the swirls of ink peeking out from under his jumper and the snakebites on his eyebrow, you couldn’t have guessed a laugh like that would come out of his lips. At your unimpressed stare, he shakes his head, smiling… kind of innocently… “Kidding. I don’t make it a habit to ask women out after fifteen minutes of knowing them. Especially not after they’ve spent the majority of those fifteen minutes rejecting me.”
Your murmured well, maybe you should take a hint gets him to snort, but it does not deter him. You’re beginning to think very little deters this man.
“But I think you might be able to break this habit.”
“You want extra whipped cream, babe?”
“No, thanks, babe.”
A few feet away stands Tom, as you learned his name to be upon entering this semi-crowded coffee shop, chortling as you exaggerate your pronunciation. One of the baristas behind the counters recognised him immediately upon your entrance, yelling out a loud Tommy boy! that nearly gave you a heart attack. Only one table was available in the corner, two snug chairs on either side of a round table.
You’re only a little ashamed to say that he didn’t have to try hard to entice you into joining him for some late-night hot chocolate. It’s not like you have any urgent and compelling plans to get to, anyway, other than going home to your empty flat (because even your roommate has a hot date) and flipping through your Netflix watch again list. Playing with your fingers, you watch the queue leading up to the cashier, where Tom waits for your order. His own digits are playing with the shorter hair on the nape of his neck, brown eyes looking around the shop before they fall onto your figure. In perhaps the cutest fashion you have ever seen, he wiggles his fingers at you as his face breaks out into the widest grin. His cheeks squish upwards, and you resist the urge to coo at how sweet he looks. Biting back a smile, you shyly wave back at him, heart jumping in your chest.
Soon enough, he’s back at your little table, placing the Styrofoam cup in front of you. You whisper a thank you, unable to meet his eyes, but it only makes him to beam wider.
“So… Did you miss me?” He sing-songs, reaching over to squeeze your cheek between his fingers like one does a chubby baby.
“That’s fucking disgusting.” You squeak out, lightly slapping at his arm until he lets go.
“I thought you liked that cheesy, spontaneously romantic shit.” Taking a sip of his drink, Tom dramatically rolls his eyes. “Ooh, this is good chocolate. Drink some, it might thaw your frozen heart.”
Gasping, you kick his foot under the table, yet it doesn’t wipe the cockiness off his expression. “You’re such an ass. Is this any way to treat me after you practically begged me to come here?”
“Begged you? Please, love, I batted my eyelashes once and you jumped me.”
“Oh, so you’re annoying and a liar? Happy fucking Valentine’s to me.” You grumble, poking the rim of your cup.
He laughs, watching you with twinkles in his eyes before he perks up a bit. “So,” he starts, tone teasing, “do you go to school? Or work? Maybe as some sort of highly-specific art critic specialised in holiday cards.”
Snorting, you shake your head, nervously wringing your fingers around the steaming cup. “No, I’m in uni. I don’t really know why, though.” At the confused quirk of his eyebrow, you shake your head once again, looking down with hesitation until you feel his hand brush yours. The realisation that he’s trying to comfort you has your breath hitching for an instant, and you find yourself relaxing a little. “Well, I don’t know, it’s complicated. It’s like—you know how your life seems at least loosely planned since birth, like go to school, go to university, graduate and get a job, buy a house, get married. And I always thought this structure soothed me, gave me footing, but I didn’t account for this… unsatisfaction, I guess. I graduated secondary with honours, I’m getting good grades in my classes—I’m on the right track, like I’ve always been. But sometimes, I feel so sick and bored that it morphs into panic and all I can think about is taking a purse and my phone and like, a bar of soap and hopping on a plane to somewhere far, far away where nobody knows me.” Breathless after having words spill out of you as though you’re a broken faucet, you bite your lip, looking up at Tom sheepishly. “Sorry. I know it sounds crazy; I don’t expect you to relate—”
“No, no, I understand.” He blurts out, a soft blush on his cheeks and ears. “I understand way more than you’d think. I—well, I tried that out. The running away and beginning again. You need really good, thick skin to do it, to start from scratch without a penny or a friend. I don’t know how well I’ve fared.”
Shyly, you extend your arm further, until you’re the one who’s offering reassurance by lightly sliding your fingers against his. Cracking a grin, you tease him, “So you’re implying I haven’t got thick skin, then?”
The corners of his eyes crinkle as he chuckles, and he boldly slips his digits between your own. “Based on your little outburst in the pharmacy, I’d say you’re too soft for your own good, Y/N.”
The entire night is spent in a similar fashion; Tom making unnerving yet annoyingly entertaining comments and you snapping back at him, only for your body to betray you as you laugh back at him, unable to keep a straight face when his giggles are so contagious, when he looks so serene and so different as he laughs. He talks to you for hours, or rather, he lets you talk for hours, until the workers at the coffee shop chase you away with their glares. Tom’s eyes shimmer as he tells you about all the places he wants to visit, from walking along the Taj Mahal to letting the burning sand of a California beach burn his feet, from eating delicacies with a clear view of the Eiffel Tower to dipping his fingers in the water during a boat ride in Venice. He shares his favourite playlists with you, sticking his tongue out when you clown him for his questionable taste (“Fergie? Really?” “I’m Fergie Ferg and me love you long time is art.”) and sharing his airpods with you.
By the end of the “date,” if you can even call it that, you have learned so many little things about Tom that you have never learned about a guy during your first, or even sixth, encounter. He walks you to your bus station all while he listens to you ramble about your passion for your major and the childhood memories you fondly look back on even today. And just as you think you can’t possibly be having a better time, just as the loud wheels of the bus grind on the snow-covered street, Tom presses a soft kiss to your lips with his own cold ones, and you feel him smile against your mouth, thumbs slowly caressing your cheeks.
You spend the whole ride home smiling like an absolute buffoon, until you realise he hasn’t given you his phone number or even told you how to reach him. By then, the bus stop where you had your most meaningful kiss is long gone, nothing but snowflakes fluttering on the ground to be seen as you longingly look behind you.
You go to sleep that night and every night for the next month and a half with the idea that Tom seems too much like a dream, or maybe even a nightmare, and not in the sense of him being too perfect for this world. Tom’s fast, he comes and goes in your mind when he pleases, as abruptly and unpleasantly as the way he crashed into your life on that Valentine’s night. Every time you think you’ve banished him from your thoughts, every time you think you’re done searching for his face in every crowd you find since that bus ride drove you away from him, every time you think you’ve found someone else, you come face to face with bitter failure—you’re not letting go of him any time soon. He well and truly lives in your head, so much so that you’ve even begun to doubt if you didn’t dream him up in the first place.
What you also fail miserably at getting out of your is the feeling of Tom’s lips fluttering even the slightest bit onto your own before you slipped on the sidewalk and he caught you before your cold, imminent death.
Perhaps that’s an exaggeration.
But you like to think the only reason you’re fixating on the brush of his mouth against yours is because of the shock of nearly cracking your skull open in the middle of the sidewalk. Yes, of course, that must be it. You almost tripped, and, high on adrenaline, let him kiss you. Nothing more, nothing less.
And unlike his fleeting kiss, he is everything but a disappearing, fast-paced memory in your mind. For days on end, the curly-haired mystery tiptoes around your thoughts whenever he pleases. He’s the hidden meaning behind the lyrics of every song you listen to since meeting him, he’s every beanie you see on your way to class or work.
He fades away with the snow on the road almost a month later, when your brain is too exhausted with exam dates and projects and essays to think about a near-stranger who took you out on perhaps the best and worst unexpected date of your life, then never gave you his number.
It’s the middle of March and the weather isn’t looking too fabulous from your seat in your bedroom’s desk chair, looking out the window with a solemn look. The sky’s a dull grey, light blue streaks splashing over it like a flick of a paintbrush on a canvas, and the sunlight is feeble. You click your pen on the table and lean back in your seat, your laptop’s cursor blinking lazily at you over a blank document. Essay writing is the last thing you feel like doing, yet you know you can’t let this assignment drag you down further into procrastination.
Outside your room, your flatmate’s voice sounds out loudly, giggles and coos shared between her and whoever’s on the other end of her phone. For all her ever-growing beauty, her voice sure does travel through walls.
Liz giggles and snorts every now and then, talking about some event she wants to go to or some skirt she wants to buy, while you’re leaning over your laptop like the Hunchback of Notre-Dame and trying to fry your brain for information. The want to abandon creeps up on you while the door to your bedroom opens loudly, and in struts Liz. She says goodbye to the person she was talking with and sits on your desk, commiseration painting her features.
“Y/N,” she sighs, her blonde hair falling over her face when she looks down painstakingly. “I know you said you didn’t want to be disturbed tonight because you’re going to be making substantial steps in the world of psychology—and I can totally see you making magic in here—but I have an extra ticket to an all-exclusive party and Stella can’t come.”
“I told you I really have to stay in tonight,” you whine, although a huge part of you wants to throw your schoolwork away and just have fun. You haven’t been to a party since the wild post-Sebastian days, when you let yourself stumble off the edge and drink and dance your way into a world where heartbreak isn’t an everyday habit.
“Yes, and I completely understand, seeing all the work you’ve done.” A long, manicured fingernail pokes at your empty screen, making you throw yourself back in your chair.
Holding her intent gaze for a solid minute and a half, your shoulders end up lax and you heave a heavy breath, “I’m not wearing skirts, thigh-highs, dresses, anything open in the back or the front of down under. I’m not wearing heels, stilettos, or pumps—”
Liz rolls her eyes and, with your wrist in her dainty hands, she pushes you into her closet. “Fine, whatever, just don’t wear sweatpants. Acting like you hate cute clothes is so 2010.”
After half an hour of there is no way my ass or any other human ass can fit into this’s and I would actually rather be kicked off a helicopter and onto a deserted island in the middle of a July heatwave than wear that’s, you finally settle on an outfit that pleases all. A simple black dress that falls mid-thigh and an oversized maroon jacket are the only common ground you can both agree on, paired with small-heeled black shoes, and your overcoat.
Liz doesn’t bother giving you details about where you’re going or who you’re going to meet there, only telling you to trust her (fat chance) and to get in the car when her boyfriend comes to pick her up. He isn’t exactly what you had in mind when she had mentioned, during a movie night a few months ago, that the newest addition to her fan club is a guitarist and singer in a pop rock band, choosing instead to let your mind dress him as a busty guy with tattoos and piercings in all the right and wrong places.
But Tuwaine’s nothing if not friendly, with his charming smile, soft eyes, and excited, deep voice. Just as you’ve begun to think he’s utterly different from the walking hormones Liz usually goes for, his mouth finds hers as soon as you both get into his car, and you’re left feeling very much so like a cartoon dog walking into a room set on fire. Not that Liz looks like she minds—you sure wouldn’t.
He talks to you about his band on the way over to the “party of the century” when he isn’t too busy trying to see how far his tongue can go down your roommate’s throat at every red light―the ones he stops at, that is. Tuwaine tells you about the three other guys he plays with and how they’ve all been friends for as long as he can remember, growing up in the same small town and moving out to university together hoping to chase their dreams.
When you ask how the chase is going, he quiets down considerably, choosing instead to list off his favourite songs that he loves to perform and telling you how the support of his concerts and his eccentric lifestyle would be impossible without his girlfriend by his side. The romance in his car becomes virtually too much for you to handle, ending with you opening the backseat window and leaning your head out for air like a dog.
Your breath halts in your chest as the car takes a sudden left turn away from the city, and you watch the roads you’re used to get further and further away. Looking up at Liz in the rear-view mirror with wide eyes, you frown as she only shushes you and tells you to relax, and that Tuwaine knows where he’s doing. You sit back uneasily but force yourself to nod your head along with the music, rough voices mixing with melodious tones and strums of the guitar along with the occasional fluttering of the couple’s lips.
The car drives for a solid hour and you finally recognise the somewhat deserted area around you. Every day, the news would have a picture of this area headlining whichever new story of gangs and drugs and violence they’re focusing on. They call it La Rosetta, named after the flowered graffities lining the buildings like wallpaper. Heart hammering, you rub your sweaty hands over your thighs as the car comes to a stop in a parking lot facing a small building. Your roommate and her boyfriend slide out of their seats and motion for you to follow them casually, your breath shaking as you grab your purse and close the backseat door behind you.
Ever so easy-going, Tuwaine walks towards the back and that’s when you realise the entrance doors are covered with a long plank of wood and tape to ward off onlookers. The ground has a layer of dust that has you coughing, looking up at the midnight sky and glimmering lights of an endless neighbourhood of shops and decrepit buildings. He stops in front of two blue, overstuffed trash bins, bags of ordure stacked atop of them, and takes out a set of keys from his skin-tight jeans.
“Um...” You trail off, watching the scene unfold in front of you with a pretty equal mix of confusion and un-impressiveness. “As fun as this has all been, I don’t think this scene is quite my own. I’m more of a recycling bin kind of girl. Give back to the earth and shit.”
Tuwaine snorts as Liz rolls her eyes, “Give him a minute.”
To do what? The remark burns the tip of your tongue, but you decide to keep quiet, crossing your arms over your chest and doing just as she ordered. Your jaw slacks as you watch Tuwaine throw the rubbish bags to the side, revealing the top of a door virtually the same colour as the cement building. He moves the bin, too, and the entirety of the door becomes available for your eyes to freely roam. Smirking, the man brings out a set of keys at the same time as Liz giggles all hyena-like and grabs your hand in her own.
Stepping inside, you immediately erupt into a mess of coughs, the entire room you’re in blanketed in darkness. “This―not good―for my asthma.”
“Oh, grow a pair. This kind of feeble ass attitude will have people describing you as matronly in ten years.” Unamused, your roommate taps you on the back a couple of times as Tuwaine’s phone’s flashlight bathes over the place.
It’s completely empty, not even a single piece of furniture and your eyes damn near pop out of their socket.
“You guys aren’t going to assault me and then kill me here, right? Cause that’s some serious haunting I’ll do to you.”
Tuwaine busts out in laughter, his giggles surprisingly soft and high-pitched for such a burly looking dude, before he shakes his head. “Nah, we’re not the type to get our hands dirty here.”
Your yell of hey man I can’t tell if you’re joking or not because we’re virtually strangers gets drowned out by a loud creaking noise as Tuwaine bends down to grab hold of a metallic ring connected to the floor, and suddenly a patch of the floorboard is vertical. Liz takes her boyfriend’s hand and starts going down the hole created in the floor, leaving you blubbering out all kinds of exclamative swears, until she turns around and goes― “There are stairs, you idiot.”
And she was right.
The stairway is dark and stuffy, but you manage not to die by holding onto Liz’s shoulders and praying for her to take the fall if you do end up losing your balance. When your feet hit the ground on the last step, you can’t believe what you’re seeing in front of you.
What seems to be at least sixty people are gathering around a stage, red and black smoke enveloping the figures atop it. Rapid music fills your ears, voices low and sensual in contrast, and faint lights hang from the walls like candles in a historic castle; only helping set the mood more. The floor holds a dozen tables placed haphazardly and you get a view of the crowd. It is a sea of scantily dressed people throwing back shots of inhibition-lowering alcohol, smoke that isn’t coming from the projectors mixing with the neon in the air, and loud chatter blending into the music.
Tuwaine walks you both to a table near the stage, already occupied by two men. You blindly sit in the chair he pulls out for you, briefly thanking him. Under the lights, you can clearly see their faces, much more handsome than you were expecting them to be. One of them is seated right in front of you, with dirty blond hair falling into his bright blue eyes. He doesn’t bother acknowledging your presence, gaze fixated on the staircase from which you had just descended, and you get an eyeful of his long, graceful neck. The skin is spotlessly covered with swirling ink in many colours, forming flowers, patterns, and what seem to be wings. Stare unfazed, his fingers curl around the glass in front of him before he throws his head back, Adam’s apple bobbing as he takes a shot.
“Watch yourself there, Haz.” Tuwaine remarks. Looking over, you see him occupied with your roommate using his lap as free real estate, his face buried into her hair as he plays with his fingers.
The man does not spare him a glance, shrugging, “I like to get loose before we play.”
“Don’t be bothered by Harry, he likes to act tough for the aesthetic.”
Jumping at the sound, you feel your cheeks heating and nod as though you believe this man isn’t actually ridiculously intimidating. While you were observing him―Harry―you had forgotten about the guy sitting right next to you. He smiles ever so kindly at you, showing off a soft dimple on his round cheeks. Unable to maintain eye contact for long, he runs his fingers through his reddish curls, showing off the sleeve of tattoos on his arm. Both him and Harry wear dark V-necks, ink billowing on their arms, but both of Harry’s limbs are tatted while only one of the other guy’s is.
“I’m Sam, by the way.” He extends his hand for you to shake, and it takes you a hot minute to realise what the gesture means, having not done it in so long. Sad excuse of a social life analogy aside, you grin back at him as the warmth of his skin tickles yours.
Sam’s skin is pale and freckled, and you can see his sharp collarbone from the neck of his shirt. He leans in closer until your knees touch. Smile returning, sweet and very bunny-like―it’s physically impossible not to beam back at him. Sam’s lips move but the music is too deafening, hammering in your ears until the sound of your heartbeat is as booming as the drums.
Pointing at your ears, you hope he gets the message, and he does, palms wrapping around your low shoulders of your chair and dragging you even closer, until his breath washes over your ear as he leans in.
“You’re a friend of Liz’s, right? Is this your first time seeing us perform?” Sam queries.
“Yeah, we’re roommates actually. And no, I’ve never really seen anyone perform,” you giggle nervously, playing with the edge of your coat. “Well, unless two probably drunk clowns playing a fart version of Mozart’s Symphony no. 40 at my cousin’s seventh birthday party counts.” Sam’s laugh is melodious, and you simper back at him.
“Well, I’m a bassist for the band and so is Tuwaine. My brother should be here any minute―he plays the drums and sings lead. Harry, here, plays the keyboard.” Sam rambles away and you nod, taking in his every word diligently.
Just as you are about to reply and tell him how new this entire situation is for you, a man on the stage extravagantly screams out a name you can’t catch, and Sam stands up suddenly, looking around to Tuwaine and Harry with worried eyes. Both of them don’t look a lot better than the redhead, yet Harry shrugs his shoulders and takes off his jacket, standing up and ushering the two boys after him. Sam winks at you before disappearing into the crowd. In a matter of minutes, the three of them are on the stage and everyone arounds you screams incredibly loudly, so much so that throats are surely getting ripped.
The crowd disperses just as Tuwaine starts humming into his microphone, and a figure comes up on stage. It takes a few seconds for your eyes to drift from Sam and settle in on this new person, who looks really familiar right now, with dark brown hair and inked skin and―oh, dear God.
Your mind refuses to comprehend what your eyes are seeing, the chance of this person slapping Sam’s arm playfully and moving towards the set of drums at the back of the stage being him is so fucking small, yet a part of you knows he’s right there. Although Sam didn’t mention anything about a Tom―why do you even remember his name, he’s such ancient history? Snap out of it.
Tom takes off his jacket and the crowd roars even louder, chanting his name and you hear it, it’s nothing else but it, even when it can’t be―Tom! Tom! Tom! is all you can hear. He takes the drumsticks out and slaps them against each other three times and the music abruptly invades your senses. Guitar notes and the beat of the drum fill the room, until a melodious voice interrupts, and you look at Tom to see his eyes closed, shutting out everything around him. He sings so enchantingly that you feel the urge to get up and chase the echoes of his words around town in your veins instead of blood.
“So I heard you found somebody else. And at first, I thought it was a lie.”
You recognize the song immediately, sitting back in the comfort of the chair and letting your eyes swim over the hundreds of bodies filling the underground space, some melding together while others are moving freely to the sound of the music, but you always end up looking at him.
His sleeveless black shirt shows his bare arms, strong biceps looking evidently delicious in the low lighting and his voice accompanied by Harry’s fill the room, making you feel your will slipping away. Tom only looks up from his drums to watch the crowd with mesmerised eyes, as if he’s seen the sight so many times yet it takes his breath away every time until he’s left with nothing but the clicking of the wood against the drums and his voice melting into one with his mates. All thoughts of condescending, arrogant Tom from the pharmacy disappear, washed away by the waves of this new, passionate Tom like an old, weakly-dripping faucet is gone only to be replaced with a powerful fountain.
For the next forty minutes, you find your gaze glued to the image of him throwing his head back and his neck glistening with sweat as he relentlessly hits the drums with all the force he has. He licks his lips as he sings, voice so enchanting and smooth as it hits your ears like a siren’s. Throughout his performance, your train of thoughts wanders off its tracks and down a nasty road, as though you don’t even control your own mind anymore, and you end up imagining that layer of sweat over Tom’s neck and arms spreading further, onto his chest and his waist as your thighs straddle his hips and―
“They’re pretty amazing, aren’t they?” You jump up from your seat and your glass follows suit, spilling over your dress and knocking out on the floor. Liz looks at you from beside with a worried look and you frantically nod with a tight smile, picking up the glass and putting it back on the table.
The crowd roars once again and you see the boys waving with grins on their faces and getting down from the stage, heading straight for you and your heart blubbers up your throat. Harry’s arm is thrown over Tom’s shoulders, bringing him into a side hug as they’re stopped by dozens of people congratulating them on a great set, and you swallow with difficulty to avoid staring at the veins bulging in his arms. Your own veins alight with nerves, you look around the jam-packed basement until you find the bar, and you nearly run towards it, telling Liz you’ll refill both your glasses. There’s only so long you can hide from Tom until he notices you’re here, so you may as well get a few drinks in before having to deal with him and with the coil in the pit of your stomach that seeing him has created.
You have a hell of a time setting a course to the bar, but the way your throat burns pleasurably as you down your first shot of tequila makes the trek worth it. Three more drinks are thrown back as you lay your elbows on the bar, all the seats having been taken long before you arrived, before you feel a brush of fingers against your shoulder. All at once, like a strike of lightning, the tiny hairs on your arms stand up, and you don’t even have to turn around to know it’s him.
“Are you alright?” His voice sounds warm and heavy with concern as he stands right beside you, lips brushing your ear so you can hear him well over the clamorous music.
Lazily turning around, you keep leaning against the bar and throw back your last shot, hiccupping slightly as you point a finger against his strong chest, his shirt damp with sweat. “S’that it? Aren’t you gonna be like fancy seeing you here or—or some arrogant, little comment about me stalking you or something?” Speech slurred, your footing teeters a little as you attempt to sneer at him. In your haste, though, your feet buckle beneath you, and Tom’s arm reaches around your waist to hold you up.
Warm chest pressed against yours, Tom’s chestnut eyes bore into yours, surprise and worry swirling in his gaze. His unease doesn’t waver once you’re settled and upright, yet Tom reluctantly lets go of you, hand brushing hesitantly past your hip, and you feel heat strike through you all the way to your core.
“Not going to lie, I was going to make an, uh, ‘arrogant, little comment,’” he chuckles nervously, running a hand through his messy hair, “but you don’t look like you’re in the mood for my jokes. Just wanted to check up on you, I know those drinks can be strong.”
For what feels like several long minutes, you blink at him wordlessly, actions slow compared to the vigorous pounding in your chest. That you did not expect. It’s not like you don’t know Tom is human and very much capable of emoting normally—you’ve seen living proof of that on your coffee date, if it counts as a date—but after his band’s performance and all the time you’ve spent apart, you really did not envisage him being… sweet. Attentive, even.
“Um,” you finally end up muttering, staring at him wide-eyed as his own watch you carefully, “well, then. Thanks. I’m—I’m okay, are you?”
Worried expressions melting like ice cream on a warm day, Tom grins, a few sweaty strands of hair falling on his forehead from his antsy hand playing with the curls. “I’m doing alright, love, thanks for asking. Was just about to head out, actually.”
Almost immediately, your heart jumps up your throat and you find your head shaking. “But—aren’t you—I mean… don’t you want to enjoy the stardom in here for a bit?”
Tom follows your wandering eyes to see you looking back at many handfuls of people watching him, not to mention the hoard that’s formed around the rest of his bandmates. People raise their full glasses and holler at him when they lock gazes, shouts of his name and his friends’ filling the room, and Tom turns back to look at you with the tips of his ears blushing, barely visible under the dim lights. A weird clench in your stomach has you clearing your throat and looking away. He’s so cute when he’s nervous, a voice whispers in your head, and you pinch your own arm as though that will quiet it.
“I’ve got a long day tomorrow,” he grimaces, like the mere thought of his plans is a massive weight on his shoulders, “I kind of just want to pig out and watch Shrek 2 in bed.”
The laugh his innocent words drag out of you is loud and completely unladylike, followed by equally shrill snorts and muffled giggles when you slap an embarrassed hand over your mouth, but it’s too late—he’s already heard everything. Tom’s eyes enlarge at the sounds you let out, his own shoulders shaking with laughter, and you try not to stare at how pretty he is when he’s smiling this big, like his features are made for nothing but happiness.
“You laugh like a fucking sailor,” he heaves, pretending to wipe away tears as you smack his arm, and you try not to let your admiration of his solid fucking bicep show.
“Don’t make fun of me or I’ll get Tuwaine to beat you up.” You tease, crossing your arms in front of you so you can attempt to settle your primitive need to squeeze his bicep again. Jesus.
Nudging his head back, Tom raises a very amused eyebrow, “I don’t think Tuwaine’s going to be free any time soon.” Your turn to follow his glance, you flush as you find Tuwaine and Liz making out like a depraved couple on the other end of the room, and your head snaps back towards Tom.
All at once, it feels like the air has morphed between you; now, it’s heavy with a different kind of tension, palpable and hot and nearly suffocating. His eyes on you seem different, their warm brown darkening as he watches you bite your lip and squirm. Gathering your courage with both hands, you take a slow step towards him and lean up, making sure he can hear you over the music.
“You know,” you start, smiling softly, “I’ve never actually finished Shrek 2 before. I ought to do that sometime. Since you like it so much.”
Bottom lip held between his teeth, Tom suppresses a large grin, making butterflies flutter in your chest, and he nods slowly. “Well, that’s simply unacceptable. I’m almost offended. The only way to remedy this felony is joining me now in a completely impromptu film night.”
“I think you might be right,” you beam back, “I’d just hate to offend you.”
Tom’s hand finds your lower back as both of you chuckle with very unsubtle pride at your flirting, like two high schoolers trying it out for the first time. Pushing your way through the crowd, ever so interested in grabbing Tom’s attention and starting a conversation, is hard, especially when he gives up and asks for you to wait for him by the door, promising to be there in a second after alerting his mates of his departure.
You accept reluctantly, separating from him and pushing through the heaps of sweaty bodies on your own. Despite the heat in the basement, a shiver racks down your spine, making the little hairs on the back of your neck stand in alarm, and you wrap your arms around yourself once you finally reach the stairs leading to the exit. Scanning the room, you’re not really sure what you’re looking for—it’s too dark to make out anyone’s features unless they’re standing near the light, and you doubt there’s anyone you know here. Still, you can’t stop your gaze from bouncing around like an old TV’s static logo, until your breath stops dead in your throat.
For the briefest moment, you lock eyes with a man near the bar, where you were standing drinking not too long ago, and his entire body’s angled towards you. Even with the low lighting, his eyes are crystal clear; blue and thin and piercing through you, steady and unblinking, a few blonde curls drooping on his forehead. Panic sinks into your muscles, making them tense and clench until you’re left feeling like a boulder, before the man slowly looks away, bringing up a glass to his lips and sipping as he moves his head to the music.
Chest tingling, you nearly jump up at a weight on your shoulder, your head snapping towards its source. Tom sends you a questioning glance as he slips into a bomber jacket, a sliver of his chain peaking out, but you simply shake your head. There’s just no way to explain the bad feeling in your gut to him without sounding like a paranoiac. Instead, you shrug your own jacket on and, fuelled by the pleasant tipsiness flowing through your veins, grab his hand, softly interlacing your fingers together.
He bites back a grin and squeezes your palm, before starting the trek up the stairs and you’re soon heading out of the building, the cold making your body visibly shake. With a muttered shit, sorry, Tom’s arm circles around your frame, bringing you sideways into his warmth.
“Holy crap, you’re hot.” The words nearly leave your lips in the form of a moan that make Tom squeeze your hip, a coy grin lighting up his features.
“You’re not the first to tell me.” Despite the cocky words, the brunette lets out an endearing giggle that matches your shy chuckles and lets you know he means no arrogance by it. “My mates say I’m like a human furnace. It’s a real problem in the summer, but it’s got it perks right now.”
Heat flushing in your cheeks, your reply is lost as you cross the street to a parking lot, and you’re lead right to a huge motorcycle. If he’s aware of your flabbergasted expression, Tom hides it well as he takes his arm off you and reaches for a chunky helmet, slipping it over his head.
“Hop on, won’t you?” He says, voice slightly muffled under his visor.
“Where? You barely fit.” Snapping, you’re pretty sure he’s rolling his eyes hard despite not being able to see his face. You’re lying, obviously, because his bike is ginormous and there’s more than enough space for both of you, but fear curdles in your stomach like expired milk.
Tom revs the engine, snapping you out of the staring contest you were having with his rear wheel. “Hey, it’s safer than a plane. Don’t worry.” Snorting, you step closer and poke the bike with the tip of your shoe, as though you’re waiting for it to morph into something even more dangerous.
“You’re a terrible liar,” you muse, yet hesitantly place your hand in his outstretched one, letting him clumsily manoeuvre you until you’re seated behind him.
It’s a little embarrassing how you’ve had to climb up, but whatever. You’ve decided to no longer be ashamed of yourself tonight, your inner monologue blares as you slowly touch Tom’s side, unsure of whether or not you need to wrap your arms around him like in the movies.
“Maybe so, but I’ll take care of you. Promise.” Tom says, checking his rear-view mirrors and revving the engine even more loudly. “Hold onto me tightly, love.”
If this were a romantic comedy, you would’ve glided your arms around his lithe waist, slowly enough to have his breath catch in his throat and to kick up the tension between the both of you. Unfortunately, your life is not directed by Nora Ephron, and you end up awkwardly stroking his sides and wrapping your arms way too low, elbows brushing his thigh.
“Um, just,” he splutters, a hand softly circling your wrist and moving your arms higher, making you flush at the feeling of his defined abdominals under all his layers, “here. Just—be careful.”
Air halts to a stop in your chest as Tom backs up out of his parking spot, taking his time and being extra careful to ease your very apparent nerves, and you tighten your grip on his waist as he starts driving. Frigid wind whips your cheeks, violently flicking your hair back, and you shiver, timidly lying your chin on his shoulder to hide yourself from the cold current.
The ride only takes ten minutes with Tom zooming through the streets, effortlessly slipping between cars and trucks, until he stops in front of an apartment building in a better, residential area of the neighbourhood. As gracefully as you mounted the bike, you hop off with two left feet, sticking your tongue out at Tom as he chuckles at you nearly tripping over the pavement. A snippy comment awaits on the tip of your tongue, but it dies quickly when he takes his helmet off, and you forget how to process reality for a moment.
His hair, already sweaty and curly from his band’s performance, has gotten even more dishevelled. The brown strands stick up randomly as he runs his fingers through them, strong, nimble fingers and the rings adorning them catching the low light of the streetlamps. Lips quirking in perhaps the cutest, shyest smile you’ve ever seen, Tom’s fingers reach for yours as you enter his complex, his bigger palm engulfing your own and warming you up. Inside, the building is much more well-maintained; the lobby is large and spotless, a relatively shiny elevator making your sixth floor-walk ass feel like a crumpled up ten-dollar bill as Tom presses a button for the tenth floor. He doesn’t relax his hold on you even when he’s jiggling the keys in his hand to open the door to his flat, and you delightedly allow the heat leaving him in comforting waves to wash over you and soothe your cold bones.
Your eyebrows nearly rocket off your face as the door to his home opens soundlessly, and you’re met with a sight you definitely did not expect. At this point, you should be used to Tom surprising you with literally everything about him, with his moments of tenderness and wholesomeness scattered in between his suave, flirtatious comments. The place is neat, curiously minimalistic, or maybe he just hasn’t gotten around to decorating it, and its most striking feature is a floor-to-ceiling glass wall. The kitchenette looks out onto the living room, a large, worn in sofa in the middle of the large room. In your mind’s eye, you imagine Tom lying on it, the television playing as he watches the entire neighbourhood live under his nose through the massive glass wall.
“It’s nothing much, I know it’s pretty bare,” Tom remarks sheepishly, rubbing the base of his neck as he places both of your coats on a crooked rack, making you envision him fighting with the Ikea instructions while building it, “I only just moved in a few weeks ago.”
Grimacing with disbelief clearly painted on your expression, you turn back towards him, staring with such intensity that his crimson blooms on his skin like a spring flower. “Tom, please, this place is gorgeous. It’s like you can see the entire city from here.”
A slow, soft grin spreads on his lips, bunching up his cheeks so adorably you have to hold yourself back from pinching them like an overly enthusiastic grandmother. He raises an arm towards you again, this time for you to lean on as you take your shoes off at the door. “Want to try and fail at star-gazing indoors?” Giggling, you nod, rushing to rid yourself of your boots as he laughs along. “Alright, check it out and I’ll get us something to drink.”
In a daze, you nod again and walk towards the living room. Your heart warms up at the sight of a little cactus in a pot with a smiley face scribbled on it with sharpie, sitting in the middle of his coffee table. He’s so cute. You were right about the view—it’s absolutely fucking breathtaking. A tower stands out between all of the buildings, and you recognise it as one you often stare at in your own bedroom as you try to fall asleep, its’ gleam shining in the pitch-black sky. Wowing audibly at the city lights flickering hazily in the night, you tear your gaze from it as Tom comes back, holding two flutes of golden champagnes and a heart-stopping grin.
You thank him as you catch the first taste of the sweet liquid on your tongue. As a nearly broke university student, champagne is not a luxury you offer yourself often, or at fucking all, and a question catches in your throat. If Tom’s loaded enough to afford champagne and a flat this impressive on his own, what’s he doing in such close proximity to a neighbourhood known for its gangs and newsworthy crime reels?
Trying to shake the thought away, you take a longer sip of the bubbly drink, its sweetness helping you fight off the cold. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” You ask, eyes bright and captured by the view. When you look over at him, Tom’s gaze is locked on your figure.
“Really beautiful,” he says, and you smack his arm, fighting the urge to burst inside.
“Stop, that was so cliche. I know you can do better than that.” You laugh, sipping more of the champagne.
Tom shakes his head, like he didn’t expect you to turn his cheesiness down but he’s surprisingly really happy that you did. Leaning against you, Tom runs his cheek against the top of your head, sighing tiredly, and you feel for him. The stage he performed with his bandmates must have really exhausted him, and, like the idiot you are, you let your instincts guide you into placing a soft kiss on a faint mole on the side of his neck. As if that’s going to help him in any way.
It seems your small display of affection has flicked a switch inside of him, because he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you into his chest. You let out a small moan as he presses a soft kiss to your neck, his hand on your hip sending shivers through you. Lips fluttering up and down, he sucks on the tender spot between your jaw and neck.
“Tom,” you sigh, leaning even further into him. He hums, nose rubbing against your cheek. “Tom, I haven’t―”
“Fuck, are you a virgin?” He groans in your hair, and you laugh, shaking your head.
“No, I haven’t like… prepared for such an occasion.” Seeing the adorably confused pout on his face, you bring a hand back to trail your fingers in his dark hair. “Let’s just say today was supposed to be a laundry day.”
Tom’s chest rumbles against your back as he cackles in that weirdly endearing, high-pitched register of his, the vibrations tickling you. “That’s okay, love, you won’t be wearing much in a second anyway.” You look away immediately, flustered, and it only makes the volume of his giggles increase.
Before you can complain and perhaps pinch his squishy cheeks, he places the champagne flutes on the coffee table and presses himself against you again. A gasp tumbles from you as his thigh pushes yours aside and grinds against your core, easy access as it wedges under your dress. Choking on your breath, you throw your head back against his shoulder as he ever so slowly starts moving his leg, his jeans rubbing so fucking hot against your underwear, wetness already beginning to gather from the way he’s been looking at you, that dirty twinkle in his eyes that told you how much he wanted to fuck you. And you simply couldn’t wait.
Your hips, having a mind of their own, roll with his ministrations, stuttering as Tom’s lonely hand travels up your stomach to brush the underside of your breast. In a not so gentle fashion, his palm squeeze your tit from over your clothes so roughly, sparks of pain and pleasure making you feel hazy, but his touch is so sweet.
“Baby wants it so bad, she’s okay with humping my leg to get herself off in front of the entire city, hm?” He growls, teeth sinking into the junction between your neck and shoulder only for his tongue to soothe the bite with long licks. Cold air sends shivers down your spine as his chest leaves your back, before he falls to his knees.
“Tom―Tom, anyone can see.” You whisper, eyes screwed shut and yelping as he bunches up your dress around your waist and delivers a harsh spank to your covered ass. Soon enough, his fingers curl around the waistband and he pulls the garment down. “Oh, God.” In distinction with his surprisingly rough manhandling, Tom’s lips flutter against your tingling flesh in a delicate kiss, until his hands push you.
Torso practically glued to the glass, you moan as Tom spreads your legs further apart. A gush of wetness leaves you, much to his delight, and the tip of his forefinger teases your lower lips.
“Look at you; so pretty, sopping wet for me, slut.” He muses, finger slightly slipping into you just for a second to have you nearly swallowing your tongue. At your reaction, he licks your lip, teeth nibbling. “Taste so good, been wanting to do this since I saw you in that bloody pharmacy. Looked like a fucking dream come true, big, innocent eyes looking at me like I’d bite you.”
“And you are.” Breathlessly, you snipe at him and he only chuckles, tongue tracing a stripe from your lips up to your clit, which he finds like he’s been through this a million times before but he still loves it.
His lips wrap around your clit and suck so hot, gaze burning with hunger to taste as much of your essence as he can. You shudder under his filthy tongue as it traces figures against your nub, lights flashing behind your eyelids as it teases you endlessly. The noises filling the otherwise empty apartment make you blush, the sounds so dirty and loud.
“Tom, want to touch you.” You whine, hands reaching behind you to grab at his silky hair. Pulling, your head lolls against the glass as he groans against your clit before two of his fingers tease your opening. “Tom, don’t tease.”
“But you get so wet when I tease, my love.” With a few sharp sucks to your sensitive button, he gets up.
Grinning, Tom’s free hand wraps around your throat and move your face away from the clear wall to show you his soaked fingers. He scissors them in the air and you clench around nothing, watching the darkness of his irises as your wetness slips down his fingers. Amused, he grabs your jaw and taps his digits on bulging your bottom lip.
“Suck on these for me, baby.” Tom murmurs, voice rumbling as he feels your pulse pounding under his thumb like a bass drum.
Whimpering, you immediately swallow as he puts his fingers in your mouth, the taste of yourself bitter on your tongue but his digits are so long and thick. You lick his fingers as if they were his length rubbing against your lower back, sending heat through you like crazy.
Tom hisses like he’s been wounded, teeth dragging against your earlobe. “Shit, such a good slut for me. That’s it, baby, lick my fingers so they’ll slip right in when I fuck them into your sweet pussy. You’d like that, won’t you Y/N? You want my fingers fucking your tight pussy until you’re cumming against my window for all my neighbours to see?”
You groan as his digits leave your mouth, Tom not wasting any time as he fumbles with the zipper of your dress, situated on your side. “Where’s the fucking―” zip. A frustrated noise akin to a growl escapes him as the material hits the floor around your feet, his stare feasting on your bare skin shown just for him. “Take your bra off, baby. Want to see all of you.”
As soon as you’re fully nude before him―for him―he pushes you against the glass again. The cold has your nipples hardening even more, whimpers falling from your lips in a mantra as his nails sink in your inner thigh before they finally touch the place you need him in the most. Tom rubs at your clit with his thumb while his index and middle finger brush against your opening, getting drenched with your dripping wetness, and finally he thrusts them home.
“Holy fuck, Tom.” You brokenly moan, his lips pressing chaste kisses to your cheek to reach your mouth, where he slants his own atop yours. He sucks your tongue until your head spins, his free palm dropping down to squeeze your breast.
“God, baby, you’re so warm. So fucking wet, practically melting around my fingers.” He whispers between open-mouthed kisses that have turned more into mindless tasting. “Going to fuck you so good, going to fuck this cunt like it deserves.”
Throwing your head back, your hips can’t stop themselves from chasing his touch, fingers drilling into you so good. Tom kisses you messily, sloppily, all spit and tongue, alcohol on his breath and stars in his eyes. His fingers play with your nipples, pinching and teasing until pain mixes with pleasure, and his other hand keeps going at your pussy.
“Tom, want to come, please.” You heave, chest constricting with desire.
“Come for me, slut, want to feel that perfect pussy clench around me.” Tom bites at your neck, hand leaving your tit to lay a loud smack to your ass. “Come on, come for me so I can fuck my cock into you nice and slow, yeah? Fuck, you’re dripping down to the carpet, baby, want to fuck you so badly.”
The coil in your stomach only grows hotter as his fingers scissor your walls, clenching down on the digits with every movement while Tom pants into your neck, mumbling something about shit, too fucking tight I can barely move. He flicks at your clit relentlessly, the pad of his thumb rubbing against the nub in different figures before he begins faintly spanking it in contrast to his other hand delivering one harsh smack after the other to your tender backside.
Pressure building higher and higher, you dig your nails into the forearm of his hand currently bringing you to release, moans bubbling in your throat as you let go, your pleasure bursting to fruition. Tom, ever the gentleman, slows his rhythm down all while he allows you to ride your orgasm. When your clit gets too sensitive from his undivided attention, you tiredly moan his name, hand wrapped around his wrist, and he gets the message.
Tom presses another kiss to your ear, voice sweet and calm. “Fuck, you did so good, slut, came around my fingers so well. I’ve been waiting so long to―oh my God, Y/N.”
“What, what’s going on?” You crack an eye open, brain slowing down due to his endearing caresses on your stomach. Before you can utter another word, your throat closes up in fear at the site in front of you.
Right there, in the complex right in front of Tom’s, in the balcony only a few meters to your right, is a man with eyes as wide as saucers. Your terrified expression nearly matches his own, your eyes bulging out even more once you notice the tent in his shorts that his hand is doing a horrible job of covering.
“Oh my God, Tom, where are your fucking drapes?” You stammer, trying to turn around and escape the raptured gaze of the stranger, but Tom only pushes his body into you harder.
“Now that’s just greedy behaviour, slut.” His hand comes down on your ass again and you have not a shred of a doubt that sitting down will be a huge bitch for the next few days, though it’s more than worth it right now. “Is it fair that you already came once and never even touched me? Greedy whore.” Tom spanks you once more, the sound of your flesh jiggling under his hand followed by the undoing of his jeans.
Just imagining Tom’s cock, hot and hard and straining against his boxers, tip red and spewing precum―just the image of it in your head has a new gush of wetness leaking from your cunt. You whimper in his hold and thrash your behind, only serving to get another smack.
“I can’t―I can’t do it in front of him.” Conviction lacks in your statement, which is more a breathy, half-hearted plea if nothing else.
Tom chuckles as you jump, the tip of his cock rubbing your folds and coating itself in your slick. “Don’t turn shy on me, baby. We might as well put on a show for him since I’m going to fuck you against this window whether or not he watches.”
Groan after groan leaves you as he hisses, grinding his dick between your legs to get it wet. You can’t deny how hot you feel, his touch, his stare, the stranger’s stare, everything around you making your skin burn and your head spin. At last, you decide to let yourself go and enjoy the moment―everything else this night has been an addition of events you never thought you would participate in, anyway. Why should exhibitionism be the line not to cross?
Lost in your thoughts, you let out a loud moan as Tom takes your hips in both palms and the head of his dick slowly spreads your folds. “Oh God, Tom, so thick. Fuck, give me a second.”
He nods and mumbles incoherently, sweaty forehead falling on your shoulder, and gives you time to adjust as his dick sinks more and more into your cunt. When he’s bottomed out, Tom lets out the softest whimper of the night, sighing through his nose as he shakes against you. If you weren’t such a heaping mess yourself, you would almost laugh and tease him for dropping his dominant facade when he finally got his dick wet.
True to his word, he waits for your mark, a barely heard moan of his name, before he starts thrusting.
“Goddamn, baby, you’re so tight. How am I supposed to move when your pretty cunt is squeezing me like a fucking vice?” He growls, the noise of his hips slapping against your ass and your wetness around his cock resounding.
“Shit, Tommy, fucking me so well. You’re so big, I can feel you everywhere.” Wailing, you dare a glance to the man in the opposite building, gasping as you see his shorts around his knees, his palm moving rapidly over his cock to the sight of you and Tom fucking. “Oh, God. Fuck, I’m so close again.”
Teeth descending on your neck to add another splotch of colour to the hickey-filled flesh, Tom growls as his thumb goes back to torturing your clit. “Wait for me, slut, almost there. Shit, so tight, wettest thing I’ve ever fucked.”
“I can’t, I can’t wait, Tom.” You strain, the addition of his thumb on your overstimulated nub too much for you.
Hips slapping against yours as his cock drills into that sweet spot between your legs that has you seeing flashes of colour behind your eyelids, he grips you tighter as he fucks himself faster, harder, pressing his dick deeper and deeper into you. It’s all too much for him, too; your sopping walls enclosing around his cock perfectly, wetness streaking down his balls, your pretty moans filling his ears, your warm skin under his hand, your sweet lips rubbing his own.
“Fuck, fuck, I’m going to come, baby. Come with me, let go around my cock. Want to feel your sweet cunt spasm around a cock that’s finally fucking it right, fucking it perfectly just like it deserves.”
And you do just that. Tom’s waist sticks to yours like hot glue as his cum fills you up, hot and sticky and dripping down your thighs as his cock can’t help but thrust ever so softly into you until he’s all spent. When all movement stops, you wince as he pulls out of you, the remnant of his cum dripping down your inner thigh. He keeps you in his arms and you don’t want to be anywhere else, not when he’s kissing your neck so lovingly, his sweet, attentive gaze locked on you, on alert for any sign of discomfort.
You turn around on shaky legs, Tom holding most of your weight up for you, and his lips descend on yours, tongues sliding lazily against each other. Slowly, Tom begins walking backwards, dragging you with him and swallowing your giggles as he heaves you up and your legs circle themselves around his waist. You don’t get much time to look around his bedroom when he opens the door one-handedly, the other one holding the back of your thigh, before Tom falls on his bed and you follow suit.
Inadvertently straddling him, you lean forward teasingly, suddenly very aware of your nudity as one of his palms finds your ass and the other crawls up your spine to tangle in your hair. Tom smiles as your noses brush, moving his chin up to purse his lips over the tip of your nose, “Do you…” he trails off, twirling a few strands of your hair around his finger, “do you want to stay the night, love?”
Breathless, you skim your digit down his jaw and up to his unruly eyebrow, and you nod lightly, trying to bite back a large smile to rival Tom’s grin. Thankfully, you don’t need to try too hard to contain your joy in this very moment, not when he kisses you again, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth and rolling you over, nothing but his touch and the moonlight filtering in through his window on your mind.
A cramp in your leg is what you wake up to, throbbing and stretching that snaps you out of deep slumber, and you groan as your eyes rip open. For a moment, not recognising your surrounding numbs the pain, until memories of last night wash over you. Stomach tingling, you let yourself relish in the warmth of Tom’s sheets, covered in his soft scent, and the recollections of his touch, his kisses, his laughter all exploding in your mind like fireworks. Under the heavy weight of his blanket, you slowly turn around, not wanting to upset your over-worked muscle any further, only for your heart to drop.
Where Tom had fallen asleep behind you, his arms wrapped behind you, chest pressed to your back, is now an empty space. His side of the sheets are cold when you run your hand through them, forming a ball in your throat as you look around the room. With the sun lighting the place up, you notice the closet door opened, clothes falling out of it haphazardly like it was opened in a hurry, and the walls bare of any type of decoration. Taking a deep breath, you sit up against the headboard, and that is when a flash of bright orange catches your attention.
On the top of his bedside table is a sticky note, scribbled on with a thin marker. You move up on your knees to snatch it, breath hitched to your throat.
Something came up and I have to deal with it. Thanks for last night. Hope I see you soon.
You read it over once, then twice, then thrice, until you’ve got the twenty words memorised. By the last reread, your eyes have glossed over, and you sniffle as you crumple up the paper and throw it across the bedroom. Looking back at his commode for anything else he might’ve left; you find nothing but a picture frame. A photograph of him with three boys sits there, and you immediately recognise Sam on his right and Harry on his left, a much younger boy standing in front of them. Last night, you hadn’t put two and two together, but standing right next to each other, you notice the physical similarities between Sam, Harry, and Tom.
Sniffling, you throw the covers off of you and gather your clothes, trying your best not to look back at the bed you slept in. Tom had acted so enamoured with you yesterday with his gentle touches and passionate kisses, asking you to stay the night and cuddling you through it after the best sex you ever had. Why would he tell you to sleep over if it was just a meaningless one-night stand?
The rest of the apartment is similarly empty, nothing but your champagne flutes on the coffee table and two empty mugs on the kitchen island. The sight of them, along with a tea kettle sitting near the oven, have your tears sliding down your cheeks. For a moment, you let yourself imagine the excuse Tom left behind, one you’ve heard of so many times from your girlfriends while they recounted their disappointing one-nighters, is true. Maybe an emergency really did come up, something to do with his brothers or his band or whatever job lets him afford a place like this on his own. Maybe he really does like you too and circumstance intervened against his will.
Nevertheless, all alone in this cold apartment, in your dress from last night and your coat in your arms, you let self-pity win out. Neither you nor Tom had said anything about this being more than a one-time occasion, even if you were both acting more affectionate and sincere than you’ve ever been in meaningless flings. He doesn’t owe me anything, you try to remind yourself as you slip your boots on and throw one last glance to the two mugs on the counter. Shaking your head, you zip up your coat and head out, trying to forget the blooming in your chest when you had walked in through this door last night, Tom’s fingers interlocked with your own.
It starts back up like a déjà-vu, so much so that you blink owlishly and pinch your arm to make sure you’re not hallucinating or dreaming or both.
Movement sounds out in the flat, Liz’s voice on the phone carrying through to your slightly closed bedroom door. For a month, you’ve been holding your breath every time you hear her talking to Tuwaine, a ridiculous and downright piteous hope forming in your chest that maybe she’ll take you with her to another outing, maybe you’ll see Tom again—do you even want to see him again? What would you even say to him? Would he even approach you a second time? Just thinking about it makes anxiety fester in your chest, and you’ve got little to no chance of ever seeing him again.
“I can’t believe you’re even suggesting what I think you’re suggesting, Tuwaine.” Liz snaps, her voice hardened. “She’s my roommate, for God’s sake—she’s my friend. That means something different in my world… I think I’d know if she had anything to do with Harrison and she doesn’t. I’m not having this fight with you now, Tuwaine.”
Great. She’s talking about you. You can’t understand most of what she’s saying in the first place, but you know you have something to do with it. Who the hell is Harrison? Why does Tuwaine think you know him?
With your lower lip held hostage between your teeth, you get up and calmly move to the kitchen, where Liz is leaning against the counter, her phone in her palm and a bitter expression on her pretty face.
“Is everything okay?” You whisper, and she nods, unfocused. “I, um, couldn’t help overhearing you talking about me.”
Liz stops biting her fingernail for a heartbeat, as if your statement has casted a paralysis spell on her. Yet, just as fast as she’d stopped, she’s nibbling away at her nail polish again. “Yeah, just Tuwaine asking about you.”
“Really? So who’s this Harrison?”
“Nobody important.” Flipping her hair over her shoulder, Liz begins to walk away, your fingers around her wrist ceasing her march. “What?”
“Liz, we’ve been roommates for over a year, I would appreciate some fucking honesty when you’re talking about me in plain sight.” You snap, glowering.
A look of defeat clouds over your roommate’s features, almost like she’s guilty, before she snatches her arm out of your hold. “Look, Y/N, I’m really not supposed to be telling you this, and I swore to Tuwaine that I’ll keep my mouth shut. You’re my friend and I care about your wellbeing, but I took an oath. Just—if you see anything that you think is suspicious, tell me or call T, but don’t act recklessly. I’m sorry, it’s all I’m allowed to tell you.”
Her luscious hair swings after her when she walks into her room, the dramatic exit accompanied by the click! of the lock on her bedroom door as though you’re both starring in a telenovela. Your train of thought is going at ten thousand miles an hour, and you’re so confused about what Liz could be talking about. Why did she make it sound so ominous, as if this Harrison creature can sneak into the flat and murder you in your sleep if you entertain him? A sigh of defeat flows out of your frowning mouth, and you mimic your friend by shutting the door to your bedroom as well.
Now that you’re finally coming to terms with the reality that you truly might never see the man that’s been haunting you since you met him, a scenario plays out in your mind all by itself as you’re back in the safety of your bedroom—a girl in a tight dress, maybe even another one of Liz’s friends she invites out of boredom, sitting at the same table in the same underground concert hall, if you can even call it that. She’s chatting with Sam or maybe she’s even broken through Harry’s unimpressed exterior, and Tom shows up, hair all messed up from his motorcycle helmet, and he makes another pun about a fucking Disney movie that has her panties melting, too.
Huffing, you close your laptop roughly and throw your head back. Is it possible you’re not the only girl he’s done this to? Surely, a guy as handsome and charismatic and seemingly popular as Tom has no problem picking up a girl or two after he finishes his sets, or in pharmacies on international holidays. How could I have been so naïve, you wonder, scrunching your eyes closed. Of course you’re not the only girl who threw herself at his feet after a coffee date and a simple conversation, and how could you have been when he’s possibly the most handsome man you’ve ever been with? He probably does that with every girl Liz brings to their gigs—hell, she probably knew exactly what was going to happen to you that night before you did.
In the midst of your inner dilemma, your phone’s sudden ting! takes you out of your session of self-pity, an unknown number flashing on your screen as you read a new notification.
Unknown: send back two sunflower emojis if this is the pretty girl in the black dress and the purple jacket [7:32 pm]
Unknown: and this is not her, send back a cactus and I’ll get the message [7:33 pm]
A weird feeling takes a seat in your gut. You don’t recall ever giving Tom your number, much less getting his own, but you suppose there’s another way he could’ve gotten it, and that way has just started to blare old Big Time Rush songs in her bedroom.
You: this is so fucking creepy and totally unromantic [7:35 pm]
You: what do I get out of this if I respond honestly? also who the fuck are you [7:35 pm]
Unknown: oh I think you just did. jackpot [7:36 pm]
Unknown: but tbh I’m not the lucky one here, you just won yourself a date with me [7:36 pm]
You snort with derision, but you decide—what the hell, you’re going to play with him for a while. If this is really Tom, the least you can do is fuck with him over text and be your most annoying, unashamed self.
You: and will I have the privilege of knowing who this is before the date? [7:37 pm]
You: just so I know what to wear, of course [7:37 pm]
Unknown: any chance you’ll wear that gorgeous dress I saw you in at the club? [7:38 pm]
Unknown: actually, let it be a surprise. wanna meet at 8:30? I’ll send you a location [7:38 pm]
You: you’re being very presumptuous right now. maybe I don’t want to see you again [7:39 pm]
Unknown: I think we both know that’s not true. I’ll see you soon, love [7:40 pm]
Love. Only one man you know lets the pet-name roll off his tongue all the time.
It takes you a few minutes to realise what is actually happening to you right now, and the dilemma of whether you should actually trust this person for who you think they are. You’ve made way too many questionable judgements in the past few months, from going out to a bad part of the city with Liz and her boyfriend who you barely knew anything about, to getting very… comfortable with a man you’d known for mere hours.
Yet, with all your trepidation and worries, the desperation crawling up your throat at the thought of seeing Tom again is completely out of control, eating away at your better judgement.
And so, with the address sent to you scribbled on your desk before you add it to Google Maps, you end up on a street not too far away from home, dressed in jeans and a tee shirt, albeit not the sexy clothes you’re sure Tom’s expecting you in, but you’re still not sure of yourself.
The bar is very minimalistic and classy on the outside, harbouring a simple dark wood palette with the name Nuit Blanche plastered on it in dark red letters, like it’s been splashed on with wine. You take a deep breath and open the door, walking inside with dozens of possibilities in your head, but none of them equal the reality you’re seeing. The place is beyond crowded, with bodies everywhere, all packed together like a box of sardines, with the exception of a few tables strewn about here and there. In the corner, a large stairwell leads to an upstairs level.
Sitting down on a stool, you get your phone to check if he texted you, but your screen is as clear as you left it. The bartender eyes you, his gaze mounting the pressure on you until you cave, asking for a simple glass of white wine that you wordlessly receive in seconds. Each tap against your phone shows the clock ticking by without a word from Tom but giving up puts a bitter taste in your mouth. For all you know, he could be upstairs looking for you, too.
As you take another sip of your wine, you feel a body move behind you, an elbow brushing your back as tall man sits on the neighbouring stool. You try not to stare at him too much, but his blond hair, gelled to perfection, and striking features lead you to think he must be used to women watching him wherever he goes. His jeans-clad legs are long as they bump into yours and he murmurs an apology, but you’ve seen enough Sandra Bullock films to know what this means.
You give him your back when you turn around, looking at the stairs with your utmost attention, your eyes out for that tuff of dark hair and honey brown eyes. A new glass clunks on the bar and you know it’s his, you know he’s going to lean over to whisper something in your ear, but the anticipation is killing you.
“Are you waiting for someone?” There it is. His voice is so low, you’re sure it comes out of the depth of his throat, and you can’t help but compare it to Tom’s higher pitch.
“Yes,” you reply, your voice clipped short.
“You know, a man who makes a lady as beautiful as yourself wait surely doesn’t deserve you.” You scoff as you feel this man’s hand on your shoulder.
“It’s really not like that, but thanks for the compliment.” You hope he won’t answer back—you’re tired from all this running around and mystery and you just wanted Tom to come find you already. But he doesn’t, and the blond man moves your stool around to face him.
His eyes are big and blue, but they’ve got nothing on Tom’s certified doe eyes. He’s handsome, you must admit, but for some reason, you’re more wary around this stranger than you usually are in general. A smirk places itself on his lips as he watches you look him up and down, from his pale skin to his pink lips and a hint of his strong, defined biceps under a bomber jacket.
“Like what you see?” Resisting the urge to scoff, you scrunch up your nose and slowly shake your head no. “Oh, come now, doll. The chase is always fun, but the catch is even better.” He eyes you up, licking his lips as he leans even closer. “My name’s Harrison, and you?”
Every drop of blood in your body seems to freeze all at once. He can’t be, can he? Surely, he’s not the only man with that name in the entire country. But what are the odds that your roommate inadvertently warns you about a guy with the same name, only for you to meet him a few hours later? Never mind, you actually don’t want to find out about these odds. Liz’s words ring in your head for the second time today―don’t act recklessly. And so you do what any girl who isn’t terrified out of her head does.
You giggle hysterically, slapping your hand on the bar counter. “That is the most horrible line I’ve ever heard. You’re, like, hysterical.” But your laughter doesn’t last long, because soon his hand holds onto your forearm and you’re chest to chest, the teasing grin on his face long gone, replaced by a stone-cold expression.
“You have about four seconds to get up and head for the backdoor behind the bar. I’m only going to wait so long, doll.” Harrison’s breath fans over your neck and then you feel it, a sharp, round edge pinching at your side. You look down, and see the black metal in his grasp, his gun-holding hand hidden his jacket.
Not waiting long enough for you to react, he presses the mouth of his weapon even harder into your flesh and you jump up to your feet. Harrison stands up right behind you and wraps an arm around your waist, making sure you remember the reason you’re doing this. Like your heart’s completely forgotten the very thing it’s supposed to do, it drags your lungs down, your throat aching and vision blurring with panic when you’re a few steps away from the door.
“Open it,” Harrison whispers, and you raise your hand to reach for the handle, when the weight on your back is ripped away.
You throw yourself at the door in time to see Harrison fall to the floor. Another body, shorter than his, covers him, but you don’t have time to get a good look at your saviour, as their arm reaches back and lets their fist drop on Harrison’s face. The gun previously held against you clatters away on the pavement. A scream bubbles up your throat but no one else seems to notice you, the unknown man throwing a punch after the other until blood’s dripping off his hands and leaking down the floor. You can see Harrison’s body writhing underneath the stranger’s, trying to escape or hit back, until he stops moving altogether.
Through the roaring of your heart and the scuffle in front of you, your head snaps to the pub, where several men push through the crowd and cause a commotion, heading for the back entrance. Air doesn’t get the chance to fill up your lungs before a powerful scent washes over you and takes you for a walk down memory lane. A strong hand wraps around you and then cold wind hits your face and―
“Run, Y/N, Run!”
Sheer panic travels up your veins, kicking your legs into gear as you dash through the dark alleyway with a wet hand clasped tightly in your own. You don’t know how long your feet hit the cement of the backroads and sidewalks until a weight on your arm stops you, pulls you back and makes you hit something solid. Loud gasps leave you, your chest heaving up and down and you didn’t realise tears were streaming down your cheeks back in the bar, but you sure do now. Lungs screaming for oxygen, you squeeze the hand you’re holding even harder before your back is being pressed against the cold metal of a car door, blubbers and gasps of air leaving you.
You lean down to put your hands on your knees, trying desperately to catch your breath and get enough air circulating through your veins. The night is dark around you, only a few streetlamps lit, and you can’t bring yourself to filter through memories and recognise where you are. A frosty hand is placed on your cheek, and you jump, the focus in your eyes unsteady until it lands on a pair of hazel eyes and a head of dark curls.
Tom touches your cheek with fingers as gentle as rose petals while he eyes you, his chest heaving under his typical leather jacket and his body bending to match yours. He brings out a hand to stroke your back in slow movements, calming you down although your brain is going hundreds of miles an hour, wondering what the fuck just happened.
The heat emanating from his body warms you when he hugs you close to him and you bury your face in the nape of his neck, letting the sobs rake you because—fuck, Tom’s arms are so comfortable and stronger than you imagined him to be, and he smells like citrus and aftershave and rain and you’re so, so tired. You’re not sure how long the both of you stay in each other’s embrace, but you do know that when he opens the passenger’s side door for you, your hair’s completely wet and so are your clothes, and you can almost feel the round edge of Harrison’s gun on your side once again.
Tom gets in after you and starts to drive before you can get a word out. As you shiver for the umpteenth time, he leans over to fish something out of the backseat and suddenly a warm trench coat is placed over your shoulders. It feels strangely intimate even if it’s a measly action that any decent person would take, but you still can’t let this uncharacteristic move pass by.
“Should I ask why you have a woman’s coat in the backseat of your car—or, actually, for who do you have a woman’s coat in your car? Keep in mind that the number in your answer could result in me throwing it in your face and both of us ultimately dying in a fiery car crash.” He snorts derisively besides you and shakes his head, leading you to have a little smile on your lips.
“Would you rather I let you die of hypothermia?” His giggle is back again, and as always, the contrast between this tough-looking man and his childish, bright laugh leaves you a little breathless.
“Hm, I think I’d rather not get a coat STD and go home with a simple cold.” Grinning at his full-blown laugh, you look next to you to see his hair wet and plastered to his forehead, his white V-neck mimicking the strands, but against his skin. The edges of his abs tease you from under the cotton and you will yourself to look in front of you before he notices, even if the light dimple appearing on his left cheek tells you it is too late.
“For your information, there has only ever been one woman who wore this lovely garment, and it was completely PG-Rated.” He simpers, casting a quick glance at you as the car comes to a stop in front of a red light.
It feels like you come to a halt along with it, the multitude of events of the past thirty minutes hitting you all at once. Falling into silence, you shiver under the coat, though this time it’s got nothing to do with your rain-soaked attire. The look in Harrison’s eyes as he pressed a gun into your side, the way they lost their light as if he flipped a switch, and the all-consuming fear that took hold of your entity—you don’t think you’ll ever be able to forget any of tonight. In the midst of running away, you finally recognised him as the same blond man whose stare was on you at Tom’s band’s performance all those weeks ago.
In your quietude, Tom can tell your train of thought has moved far past him and his attempts at banter, and now you’re making it a point to ignore him, nails digging into your thighs as you contemplate accosting him with a barrage of questions or keeping your jaw shut tight.
“Are you…” he starts, knuckles whitening around the steering wheel like the cost of speaking these words is too heavy for him to pay, “are you hurt? Did he hurt you back there?”
Exhaling shakingly, you snap your neck towards him, eyes wide with emotion. “Who do you mean—you mean the maniac with a gun who’s basically stalked me and was about to kidnap me? Who the fuck is he and what does he want from me and who—who are you?”
Expecting Tom to look like a deer in front of headlights, to match your gaze with an expression similar to that of a child caught with his hand in a cookie jar, you cross your arms in front of your chest. Yet he doesn’t do any of that. His stare stays fixated on the road, his jaw doesn’t clench with anger, and he doesn’t even seem to have heard you. So you question him again, this time louder, this time you don’t sway with confusion and your tongue doesn’t roll slower than your thoughts.
“Liz called Tuwaine, who called me. She saw the address of the club in your room, and she thought it was weird you would be going to that place.” Words don’t seem to have meaning or edges when they come from his perfectly pink lips, and it makes you so angry for some reason. Why is he so calm after beating up a man who had a gun in his hand? Why is he churning out these incomprehensible facts as if you had simply asked him how his day’s been? “I think you need to rest, love.”
“Don’t fucking patronize me, Tom.” You bite. “This isn’t some stupid movie in which you can give me half-truths and shut me up by saying you can’t tell me the whole truth. Either you tell me right now who you really are, who the fuck is Harrison, and why he stalked me and pulled out a fucking gun at me to get me to go somewhere with him, or you stop the car right now and let me go.”
In the silence succeeding your questions, the atmosphere of the car thickens with tension until it’s almost suffocating. Tom remains quiet, his bottom lip between his teeth as his eyes dart all around the road and grip tightens on the wheel.
Your temper hitting a short fuse, you slap your hand on his dashboard and angrily struggle you’re your seatbelt. “You’re fucking unbelievable, Tom. Stop the car.”
Surprisingly, he presses on the breaks and the car come to a halt in the middle of a street of hazy, faint store lights and empty sidewalks covered in rain. You look at him, astonished, then get out of the car, holding the coat above your head to protect your from the rain, only to find it had stopped while you were driving, reduced to faint drizzling. Another door slams after yours, and Tom sprints after you as you walk away.
“Hey! Calm down!” Those two little words, two syllables, are so small but they bring immediate rage over you.
You don’t bother stopping when his footsteps echo against the wet pavement, until you have no choice when his arms wrap around your waist and press you against his back. He’s stunningly warm―he can always surprise you, that asshole―and you punch against his forearms, fighting an inner battle to decide if you really want him to let you go or hold you tighter. Although you can’t stand the sight of him, his embrace is familiar, comforting despite your mixed emotions, and you find it calming you down the longer he hugs you. Eventually, you stop struggling, and he breathes out next to your ear, awakening nerves on your neck that didn’t do shit for your entire life, but as soon as Tom is near, they’re alive like lava toppling off a volcano.
Reluctantly, he removes his arms and adjusts the coat around you, moving to stand in front of you and tugging the edges of the material so your faces are a hair’s width apart. You furrow your eyebrows—he’s getting closer, the tip of his crooked nose brushing yours. The touch brings back memories of your night together like an avalanche, snippets of his lips and his tongue and his hands and his champagne buzzing through you, dialling up your spiritedness like an electric wire.
“You better not think about doing what I feel like you will, Tom.” You threaten him, voice cutting like a knife.
His expression drops comically as he pouts, intimidation melting off of him like ice cream on a sweltering day. Trying to lighten the tone even further, Tom reinstates his trademark shit-eating grin, the crinkles under his eyelids popping and soft cheeks that you just want to pinch bunching up. Sometimes you don’t know which Tom is the real one.
“Would you really push me away if I try to kiss you?” He looks at you almost daringly, coming closer until you place your hands on his chest and he smirks, but he doesn’t move away and doesn’t come any closer.
You can feel his breath fan against your face, passing over your lips, and the war inside of you is no close to being over than when it began. Placing your hands on his chest, you curse yourself internally—maybe feeling his hard muscles underneath your fingertips isn’t the best idea when you’re trying to stay mad at him. He bites down on his inner cheeks like your silent rejection has actually hurt him, and just when you feel a small dagger of guilt pierce your heart, Tom throws his head back and his shoulders shake with laughter. It becomes obvious to you that he was playing with you, and you scowl unashamedly, fists curling up to come down on his arm.
“I’m sorry,” he sing-songs, one of his hands quizzically resting on your shoulder. At your less than impressed stare, he nods his head and breathes in slowly, then—“Look, ok, just listen, let me say it all and then, if you want to leave, I’ll drive you home and you won’t hear another word from me again.” When you sigh in response, his eyes crinkle again in a small smile.
“Can we do it someplace where my fingers won’t fall out from the cold?” You mumble, and Tom nods excitedly, looking around you until his eyes fall on one of the open stores. You turn around to see a delicately lit shop with a huge bean cardboard next to its title.
Guiding you inside, Tom whispers, “I think late night coffee shops are our thing now.”
Scoffing, you slide into a booth while he picks up the small, laminated menu. “There is no our. I’ve talked to you a grand total of three times, including tonight, and all of them have been unpleasant encounters.”
“Oh, come on. I know you enjoyed last time.” Tom teases you, his foot lightly kicking yours from under the table.
You fall back into silence; you unwilling to look at him, Tom desperately trying to alleviate the strain on your relationship. A waitress comes by to take your order, and you stay quiet throughout, leading to Tom nervously ordering a hot chocolate for each of you. When she leaves, you take a deep breath and lock your gaze onto his own, “Why did you leave that morning?”
Visibly surprised that you decided to ask him a question about your night together instead of another Harrison-related inquiry, Tom blinks at you owlishly, lips spreading as he tries to find an answer. At your exhausted expression, he licks his lips nervously, his eyelids shutting like he’s given up pretending, if only for a moment. “There really was something urgent and important that I had to get to. It wasn’t my choice.” He opens his eyes, tentatively reaching for your hands, but you pull them back to your lap, ignoring the hurt that flashes across his irises. “I swear, if it were up to me, I would have stayed that morning and asked you to spend the night again and again and again until you got bored of me. I—you weren’t just a one-night stand to me, love, I didn’t want it to be a one-time thing.”
Running a hand through your wet hair, you shudder as you breathe heavily. “Did the urgent thing have anything to do with Harrison?”
The waitress comes back with your drinks, making Tom quiet down and simply nod at your question. He thanks her and she smiles at both of you tiredly, her shoes squeaking against the floor as she walks away.
“I met him five years ago,” he begins, looking away from you as though he’s got to lose himself in his memories to be able to recount them to you, “when I moved here. I was a secondary drop-out, my dad cut me off; I was at rock bottom. We met at a pub; I was about to get carded and he helped me out, said he had an in with the bartender. Found out later it’s one of his family’s places, and we became friends. I stayed with him until he got me a job at a dry cleaner’s as a delivery boy then helped me pay rent out a room at Tuwaine’s, where I met him. But he started to ask me to deliver other things, things his family were… selling. No one suspects the kid biking with people’s laundry to be doing anything less than legal.” Your eyes widen at his admission, but you don’t stop him for telling his story. “I stayed on his team for a few years, I made friends and I was doing well enough to afford my own flat and maybe even consider finishing my degree. Then my younger brothers visited, wanted to stay with me after they graduated and build a new life here, all of us together. I couldn’t let Harrison get them in on his shit—it was bad enough I was already so indebted to him, but I couldn’t—they’re my responsibility and—”
“Tom,” you breathe out, unfurling your hands to hold his own, limbs shaking with anger at his own words, “it’s okay, I understand. You don’t have to say more.”
“No,” he shakes his head, fingers clasping yours tightly, “no, you deserve to know everything now that Harrison thinks he can manipulate me by getting to you. A year ago, I told him I’m quitting. I don’t need his loans and his favours; the band was starting to kick ground and play a few times every night, and I was going to do things on my own for real this time. He didn’t… he didn’t take it very well. I tried to make deals with him to pay him back, but he didn’t want reimbursements, he wouldn’t listen. He—”
Suddenly, Tom stops, eyes trained on something over your shoulder, through the glass wall of the coffee shop. His hands reach out abruptly to grab the hood of the coat you’re wearing and bring you up over the table until your face is covered, and his lips are brushing over yours ever so gently. “Don’t make a single move.”
Maybe it’s because of everything you’ve went through tonight or the surprisingly heart-wrenching confession he’s shared with you, but you now know better than to move away from Tom, who’s got his eyes on the sidewalks through the glass. In some crazy parallel universe, you would almost say you trust him.
It’s when you notice two figures walking on the rain-soaked pavement that you realise why Tom has hidden your faces in such a way to make it appear like you’re a couple lovingly kissing in a coffee shop. Harrison, his face swollen and bloodied, is holding onto a shorter man, a gun visible in his holster. They both look around, and one of them is bound to look over at you and realise you’re not truly kissing.
“Tom,” you breathe out in a strained voice. “Do not overthink what I’m about to do.”
Your chin slides against his as you bring your mouths together, your hair hiding the side of both of your faces. Tom squeals in shock for a moment before he relaxes, his eyelashes tickling your face when he closes his eyes. Gently, you move your lips against his, the kiss warm and slow as your tongue brushes his bottom lip. You moan, barely heard, when he opens his mouth, taking control of the kiss despite you catching him by surprise when you initiated it. From an outsider’s view, anyone would think you’re an innocent couple sharing a peck on a rainy spring night, and they might be uncomfortable with the public display of affection and look away.
You kiss unhurriedly for what feels like hours upon hours, just strokes of feathery lips and blissful sighs, until you pull away. His eyes are still closed, rosy lips puckered as you sit back properly in your seat, subtly twisting your head to the back.
“I can’t see them, but they’re probably way down the road,” you finally utter, unable to look at him.
Silence ensues, and he speaks up. “Right. Come on, let’s get out of here, this place isn’t safe anymore. I’ll take you home.”
“Shouldn’t we go to your place?” You ask, nervously standing up as he throws a few bills on the table and reaches out to hold your hand, like it’s second nature to him.
“No,” Tom answers, eyebrows furrowed while he leads you outside, “I’m not—I won’t stay there anymore.”
The ride back to your place isn’t as awkward as you’d think. Tom keeps a rough hold on the steering wheel, his knuckles flexed. The playful look he was wearing before is long gone, leaving you to practically watch the gears turning rapidly in his head.
“How did Harrison know we were at the coffee shop?” You ask, clammy hands rubbing on your thighs. “We outran him a while ago.”
“Harrison’s not stupid, he definitely had at least two cars parked outside and around the bar with men waiting for him, and they must have seen us driving away towards that neighbourhood.” And with that, he zips his lips until you’re giving him direction to your building’s parking lot.
Tom doesn’t seem to know what to do with his arms once you’re walking side by side on the stairs, heading up to your apartment. Every once in a while, you see him move an arm close to you, but then he brings it back down to his side with an almost discouraged pout on his pink lips. His entire persona shifts blatantly once you’re inside your flat. Eyes wide and inspecting every little object in the place, Tom looks too enthralled by walls full of pictures and soft, carpeted floor to notice you slowly drifting into your bedroom, wet shoes creating small water spots on the floor.
You resurface with two towels in your hold, and you pass one to him. “I don’t think I have clothes that fit you, but I’ll try to look,” you whisper, watching him roughly dry his hair. “Um, Liz left me a note saying she’s staying with Tuwaine tonight, so at least we don’t have to explain anything to her if she comes back.”
“That’s—that’s neat.” Tom nods a few times more than he probably should.
“I’m, uh, I’m going to go take a shower.” You announce, pointing to the bathroom. “Would you want to… I mean, no, that’d be wack. Never mind, forget it, I’ll be right back—”
His fingers circle around your wrist when you try to leave, bringing you back in front of him as you stare, wide-eyed and embarrassed, at the amused grin playing out on his lips. “Are you asking me to join you in the shower, love?”
Rolling your eyes, you pinch his side. “And what if I was? Hm, what would you do, Thomas?”
Tom’s beam widens even more, if that’s possible, and he grabs your waist, heaving you over his shoulder as you squeak. Once you’re both in the bathroom, Tom sets you down, the space only big enough for the two of you to stand chest-to-chest, practically sticking to each other with your wet clothes. Now that you’re really about to step into a shower with him, you’ve lost a bit of your bravado, the courageous mask you put on when you even asked him, and he seems aware of it. Cupping your cheek with his palm, he runs his thumb under your eye delicately, lips pursing over your forehead in a sweet peck.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” He bemuses, voice calm and kind. “We don’t have to, it’s completely up to you.”
Looking up, you catch Tom’s honey brown eyes, filled with nothing but care and wonder. You stand up on your tip toes and kiss him, hand against his chest to hold yourself up. Slowly, Tom’s hands slide under your shirt and along your spine, and you let him raise it over your head, throwing it into the laundry hamper carelessly. In between open-mouthed kisses and breathless caresses, you strip each other, and Tom’s touch doesn’t leave you even as you work the water settings and steam leisurely fills the room.
Under the water, Tom kisses you more passionately, the heat only adding to the whirring of emotions the both of you are experiencing. There’s something so raw about this moment, of lips and tongues and hands exploring almost innocently. As you break away from the kiss to move to his neck, Tom stops you, cupping your face once more.
“I have to tell you something,” he breathes heavily, searching your eyes for the boost he needs to speal. When you nod, hands finding his forearms and rubbing them gently for reassurance, he speaks up, “I’m leaving. I can’t stay here anymore, not with Harrison practically chasing me around town and not when it puts the people I lo—I care about in danger.”
Your eyes nearly bug out at his statement, but instead of pushing him away and walking out like a part of you says, you reach for his chin instead, bringing your lips together. “Take me with you.” You whisper against his mouth.
“What?” Tom blurts, stepping away, but you don’t let him get too far. “Y/N, I don’t think you understand—”
“No, you’re right, I shouldn’t have said that.” You say, entangling the fingers of your left hand with his right and bringing it to your chest, right over your heart. “I shouldn’t have even left it up to you—I’m going with you, Tom. Let’s leave and start over, me and you.”
Speechless, Tom stares at you, as the water hits your collarbones and travels down your body, under his hand that’s held tightly over your pounding heart. “Are you serious? You want to run away with me?”
“If there’s anyone I can see myself leaving everything I hate behind and starting over with, it’s you.”
AH!!! IT’S OVER I’M SO HAPPY :D
please please please reblog and let me know your thoughts, your opinions etc !!! thank you so much for reading, i hope you enjoyed <3 <3 now i’ll be logging out and go not look at a screen for the whole day lmao
all rights reserved © rosyparkers. i do not allow translations or reposting of my work on any platform, even if credited is given or without my direct permission.
104 notes · View notes
Pairing: Tom Holland x reader!female
Requested? Yes, here is the request
A/N: I can't begin to tell you how nervous I am right now. I've been working on this fic for over two weeks...it's my first time writing proper smut. It probably won't be perfect, but I'm proud of myself anyway. I hope you enjoy! Tell me what you think after reading :))
Word count: 9K
Warnings: blood, scratched knees, harm, accident, smut, hard language, fluff, a little bit of everything
Tom felt suffocated. From starters, premiers weren’t his favourite part of the job, but something he had to deal with. No matter how many years we had been on the game, he couldn’t get used to it. He envied people that could.
Yes, it brings attention to the movie he has to promote and that was directly better for his career. Still, he hates it. All the questions about his personal life, especially who he was dating or not…and why not. He knew he had zero power over that, and he could only dodge the questions as best as he could.
No matter how much he mentalized himself to just do the job and run home, he always ended up feeling the same at the end of the night. He was very aware of the tightness on his chest. Annoyance.
Paul -his personal guard and closest one- and Tom walked around the backstage of the theatre where the premiere was set. They were trying to escape successfully from the big group of fans that had been waiting and begging to get a glance oft him all night long.
Tom loved his fans to bits, they were all from him. Let’s be real though. Who wants to be mobbed by a big group of hysterical people who touched or grabbed whatever they can reach of your body, at the same time they shout in your years? Yeah, no one. He was rational about that but sometimes Tom felt guilty of left places so fast without interacting with them.
Tonight, wasn’t exactly the case. He only could think about reaching home, his bed. Gets rid of the layer of makeup and his tight suit. Left the world outside and just sleep.
All of his hopes to get a clean retreat went out of the windows when he already could hear people outside the last door they had to get through. Tom cursed under his breath. From what he recalls that Paul said, they had to walk more than 20 meters to finally meet the car. The door leads to an alley and turning at their right few meters ahead the van was waiting for them.
Paul gave him a comprehensive look, full of pity as well. Tom only nodded, under the neon light that states exit, as a signal to open the door.
The flashes of phone cameras threw him back a little, but he shook his head and followed the path that Paul tried to make for him, meanwhile more guards came to secure him. The fans screamed at him, a bunch tried to get closer and touch him. Tom always feels like a piece of meat at that moment and somehow violated as well. He loved his fans but for god's sake, he was a human being as well.
Minutes went by in a painful and slow rhythm. His sight was fixed into the concrete beneath their feet. Everything develops in the same way. Fans screaming, flashes, and the guards screaming the fans to stay back. Tom tried to detach himself from the situation. It lasted for a few minutes until he acknowledged a girl on the ground. He couldn’t see clearly because between him and the mysterious person were legs of fans obstructing his view.
Tom didn’t think it twice.
Y/n opened the front door of her current job. She took a minute to fix her light brown skirt before she arranged her bag on her right shoulder. Y/ looked around her, watching people come and go
She started walking the streets -holding her breath without realizing it- when she reached the corner, she sighed loudly. People that walked close look her way. Y/n didn’t mind; she was beyond that by that time of the day.
Her manager was a pain in the ass. Always having something to say about her face, her body, her attitude, fucking everything. He could even talk about the weather and somehow it has something to do with her. Y/n felt so powerless. She couldn’t do anything. He was her boss, and she has to put on a smile, because no matter how awful he was y/n needed the job.
Someday, she promised herself -while she continued walking-, she would find a better job or be her boss and quit. That day she would tell him everything she wanted. Someday.
Today, although, she wanted to get home, make some food, watch a chapter she already watched with friends, and fall asleep peacefully.
Her inner monologue and ideas were thrown to the back of her head when she turned to her left and very loud screams slammed her face. She feared at first something bad was happening, but screams plus teenagers, plus flashes were signs of another event.
Y/n cursed under her breath. She forgot the premier that was getting place that evening at the local theatre and the fact that she has to pass through the mass of people to get to her bus stop. She cursed his boss again for overtook her mind once again.
After taking a long breath she started walking, elbowing fans of some star receiving bad glances or even swearing from a lot of them. She reached the middle of the crowd things got worst. The mass of humans has its one movement by now, and she couldn’t move on her own. Y/n tried to keep her balance but sooner than she could prevent it, an avalanche of fans threw her into the floor.
Her fall last seconds, if someone asked her now, she doesn’t even remember it that well. The instant pain was what she could sense in detail. Y/n tried to seat- as properly as she could- bringing her knees closer to her eyes. Her skin wasn’t any smoother and healthy, that was replaced with bruises and big stains of red liquid coming from under her skin. Her first instinct was to blow. That did any better.
Y/n tried to suppress the pain and think of a way to get out of the crowd. At the same time, without her noticing someone acknowledged her.
“Are you okay?” a sweet voice came from behind her, while around space opened over and around them. Y/n looked at him as he was an angel coming down from the sky. “Oh, shit” Tom swore after she could say a word. “Come” he approached the girl who was in total shock. “Lean on me” he said placing her right arm around her neck, and his left arm around her. Y/n obey and slowly stand up. “Could you walk?” he asked.
Y/n turned to her right, fully looking at him. She couldn’t hear much, not even the fans. Tom noticed and asked again a little louder. Y/n shacked her head coming out of her trance. She moved her face from left to right. The words didn’t form in her mouth so that was her best way to say no.
Tom nodded, leaning down a little, so he could place his other arm behind her scratched knees lifting her up in the air.
As fast as guards made space for them, the group reached -finally- the van. In less than a minute, Paul opened the door and Tom got Y/n inside the car. He left her on the closest seat trying to be as careful as he could be. Then, he seated in front of her. He knew he was getting in trouble for doing this to a stranger. What if she was a crazy fan or something like that. The thoughts went out of his head quickly when he watched her knees again.
Tom wanted to believe that no one could do that just to be close to him. Well, maybe someone would. Not this case though. Y/n never tried to get his attention or anything.
His thoughts were interrupted by Y/n, who came out of her trance fully. “What the actual fuck just happened?” which made Tom chuckled.
“I’m so sorry for all of that” he apologized, noticing the car started to move.
“It’s not your- “she started to say.
“It is. They were waiting for me” he stated, looking down. Y/n said nothing and just looked at him. At that moment the thought that she was in a van with a group of men she didn’t know hit her for the first time. She stared directly at him. Tom thought she was judging him tried to clarify what he just has said. “I’m the star they were waiting for. Fuck that sounds even worst” Tom mumbled the last sentence under his breath.
“Where are we going?” Y/n asked. She couldn’t care less right now who he is. She needed to know what was his plan about her.
“Oh, right. Em someone needs to take care of your knees” he responded, scratching the back of his neck nervously.
“I can do it” she states.
“Since I’m the one guilty for it, I think, the best is I drive you to a hospital” he told her, more in an asking tone than an affirmation.
“No way, man. It’s only a scratch. I can perfectly take care of this” Y/n told him, looking for the handle to get out of the van. She whines for the stretch around the skin of her damaged knees.
Tom moved uncomfortably on his seat “Please, I insist” he begged.
Y/n stopped, staring at him. She tried to figure out what he was pretending. He seems harmless but - out of her own experience around unknown men and many news- she had to find some assurance that he was not going to harm her.
“We can go to my house if you like” he rapidly said, feeling her giving it a second thought “Here, you take my wallet, my ID…or even my phone” he took everything out of his suit. Y/n was amazed how he managed to disguise them inside his tight burgundy suit. Y/n let her body relax a little watching him. He was very hegemonic. No doubt why people were waiting for him’, y/n thought to herself.
“It’s fine” she looked away, out of the closest window. “Fine, fix this” she pointed to her knees.
A silence took over them. Tom uncomfortable with his clothes, jerked the jacket out of his upper body. He was very very ripped. Beautifully ripped. His biceps stretched the material of his -also- tight shirt. He must work out every day or so, y/n wondered inside her head.
Tom let the jacket and the glasses we wore for the premier rest on the right side of his body. He felt in the hurry to say something or do something. He was clearly nervous about the situation.
Y/n noticed his attitude and add, “Are you sure about this? I can- “she started to excuse him out of the situation.
Tom ignored her. “How bad is the pain right now?” Y/n blinked at his question.
“Um, not that bad. I’ve scratched my knees before” she let him know.
“Good. Fuck, no! It’s not good…god” he half-whispered. “I’m sorry. I- “
“It’s okay” y/n found his nervousness rather cute.
“Well, we’re close to my house” Tom let her know.
“You never told me your name” Y/n asked out of the blue, looking at how nice the neighbourhood seems. It was classic though, nothing too fancy.
Thomas panicked a little. She didn’t know him. Maybe it was better that way? “Tom” he said after a while. “You are…” he started saying.
“Y/n. Y/n Y/l/n” she offered her hand. Tom took it. Her skin was incredibly soft, he thought. Even when he already touched her to lift her up, he never acknowledged it. Between the rush of the moment and the screaming that fuelled his ears, it was pretty logical.
“Nice to me you” he smiled at her. She blushed under his strong gazed.
“Yeah, yeah...you too” y/n coughed, still with her hand on his firm gripped.
They locked sights, shaking their hands up and down in the air. Immersed in the strange but yet cute atmosphere.
The car suddenly stopped and whatever was happening between them broke.
“We’re here” Paul said opening the side door.
Tom helped Y/n get down the van, while he thanked Paul and the driver.
Tom detached his left arm from y/n’s body, looking at her making sure she was fine standing on her own for a second while he opened the door for them. She looked back at him, bowing a little as a clear signal she was okay.
Tom quickly opened the door and turned around. “I can’t walk really. Slow…but I can- Thank you” she let him know. The energy was awkward and kind of tense between them. She was entering a stranger’s house, and he was letting possibly –or not- a crazy fan. Fear was there surely.
“Okay. This way” he directed her, after closing the front door. They moved around the receiving area, passing by a long haul with two wooden doors that y/n couldn’t stop to wonder what was hiding behind them.
Tom turned around at a crossroad. To the left, there were beautiful stairs, and to her right, another corner opened for them.
More doors closed. That raised a little her anxiety.
Y/n tried to focus on something else. She looked directly in front of her. His back was all she could fix her sight on. Her eyes wandered down, but she quickly stopped her eyes. Returning up, his muscles danced under his rouge t-shirt whispering for her hand to touch them. It was quite a beautiful display.
Sooner than she expected, Tom stopped on the kitchen door turning around to check on her. Y/n almost threw him back. “Oh, sorry” she apologies, placing instantly her hands on his shoulders. Tom held her by her elbows. She was even more gorgeous from that distance, his mind spoke.
He shacked his head, trying to stop his train of thinking. “It’s okay. Are you okay?” Y/n only could nod. Her breath hitched in her throat. “Great” he said, meanwhile y/n took a step back dizzy of his magical smell.
“Em, do you want something to drink?” she denied his offer. “Eat?” Tom scrunched the muscles of his face asking.
“No, it’s fine. Thanks”
“Then…please sit, I’ll go find the first aid kit” Tom made gestures towards a big table.
He left the kitchen running. Y/n turned around looking at the hall from where they entered, and then the kitchen area. It was big. Beautiful, full of big windows all over it. It was already late but sure that room in the morning shines with the sun’s golden light. Y/n felt a little bit of envy inside her stomach. Someday, she said to herself, she would have a kitchen like that.
Y/n obeyed Tom’s order and sit on the closest chair.
Tom returned minutes later, with a little box in his hands. He took the chair beside her. “Right, please turn a little. Your knees towards me” Y/n act as he asked, feeling her heart picking its pace. He was going to touch her again. Yeah, not cute because he would be fixing her scratched parts but anyway touching her.
He took the gauze and dumped it with a red liquid. “This’s an antiseptic” He informed her. It was reassuring that he explained every movement. Y/n hummed in agreement. “Tell me if it hurts too much”
“Okay” she responded nervously. Tom touched her right knee first, carefully but at the same time with determination and impetus. Y/n hissed. The boy looked up, waiting for any sign to stop. She didn’t say a word, but her eyes – Tom noticed- were closed. He continued taping the gauze around the scratch, with his sight fixed on her face and his hands moving on pure auto mode.
When he thought his work was done with her right knee, he lifted his hand and y/n opened her eyes. “Shall I go on?” he raised an eyebrow.
“Yes, yes. Thank you” she thanked again.
“Stopped thanking, please. I should be apologizing” Tom told her, getting back to work this time with his full attention on her left knee.
“Why?” she responded without thinking too much.
“I’m the reason you’re moaning now” Tom expressed. Before a solid second, he recalled his words and looked at her. “Out of pain, I meant” he said awkwardly. “Y’know because of later?” Tom continued trying to amend the situation but making it worst anyway.
Y/n laughed loudly. “I get it” she stopped his rambling. Tom laughed as well.
“Well, yeah, I had to be apologizing” he smiled weakly at her, returning to apply the antiseptic.
Y/n started to remember the moment they meet. “I can’t believe people go that insane over a human being,” she shared her thoughts “no offense I’m sure you’re great” y/n added. “I mean of course you are because you’re fixing me up yourself when it wasn’t your fault. It really wasn’t, Tom” she told him before he argued.
“As I said, they were waiting…for me” Tom let the gauze on the table and focusing on the beautiful girl seated in front of her.
“Yeah, I’m not arguing about that. Even though, you’re not responsible for people’s reactions. They should know how to act around a person”
“I suppose…but…it’s difficult to manage either way” he breathed out.
Y/n nodded. “Yeah, tell that to my knees” she teased.
“I’m sorry” he whined, letting his head bend down between them as he placed his elbows on his thighs. Y/n giggled.
She let a hand moved forward, searching for his chin. When she found it, y/n moved slowly his head up until he was facing her. “Stop apologizing”
Tom let his cocky side come to play. “What would you do if I don’t want to?” he teased this time.
Y/n took a second to think, lost on his brown eyes. She pondered the counts and pros of what was going to happen if she engaged in his little game. Maybe there were more counts but the excitement on her belly was stronger. “Shout you” she said. Y/n leaned forward closing any space between their faces.
Tom stayed in shock after he started to return her kiss. She was tender, her lips were as soft -or more- than her skin. He leaned his head towards his right.
Tom could only sense her close to his body, her perfume messing up all of his systems. He needed her closer. Tom needed their bodies more tangled.
He tried to move closer but Y/n whined, not because of any pleasure. On the contrary. “What?” Tom asked after they tore apart.
“My knees” she whined.
“Oh my god, I’m sorry” he apologized again.
Y/n looked at him smiling. “What did I tell you just yet?” y/n chuckled. Standing up from her chair. Tom tried to repeat her actions but y/n let a hand rest on his shoulder pressing him softly down. She moved her head from left to right. Tom only managed to look up at her.
“To stop” his voice came out strangled. His mind was foggy with her.
Y/n leaned down a little so her hands -the one that wasn’t on his shoulder- tap the side of his knee to close the space between his tights. Tom attended her demand without a second thought. He was spellbound with Y/n’s actions. He could sense his bulge growing, aching for her attention.
The girl moved up again, looking at the gorgeous man. Slowly but steady, Y/n let her right leg lift and rested on his left side. She moved painfully slow -for Tom-, not hurrying a single move down making her skirt rising up. Y/n felt her blood bubbling with adrenaline. It was intoxicating. The power, the shared lust.
When her clothed parts made contact with his bulge, Tom whined loud before he could suppress the noise. His eyes closed enjoying the sensations she brought out of him. Y/n smiled, drunk of power. “Someone is eager” she messed with him.
Tom opened his eyes, looking directly at the sparkles on hers. “Take a wild guess, love” he said harshly. Y/n smirked.
Y/n started to move forward and then backward at the same way she moved down on him. Tom’s hands come to her waist, letting her body know the perfect timing for him. His head leaned backward. His neck was widely exposed for her to explore, and she did.
Y/n bite softly the long muscle of his neck. Tom moaned again. She was driving him crazy, and he was so there for it.
She licked and kiss the whole extension of his neck until Tom couldn’t take it anymore. He leaned forward again taking her lips aggressively. Y/n took her time to moan -without any reservation- inside his mouth.
Tom’s hip jerked forward, hitting her on the right spot. “Fuck” y/n whined, breaking the heated kiss, letting her head rest on his left shoulder. Tom continued with the same movement, bringing her closer and closer -with only that- towards the edge.
He moved his hands, grabbing her ass with his strong hands. Tom brought her closer to his body, his still-clothed aching cock twitching begging for her touch. “Oh my god” she let out, grabbing with one hand his neck and with the other y/n pulled his gelled locks.
“Do you like that, darling?” he asked. Tom’s voice was harsh and low, making her ache more.
“Yes, please don’t stop” she moaned, with her eyes close while their bodies continue moving together.
Although Tom disobeys her explicit orders. Y/n looked down at him, sensing her eyes watering. She’d been so close to her release. “What the- “she started refusing. Tom stopped her with his fingers on her mouth.
“I don’t want you coming like this, baby” he explained.
“Tom” she refused.
“Stand” he ordered her. Y/n looked at him blank. She wasn’t sure she could do as he asked. She denied shyly. “You couldn’t stand, could you?” he asked full of himself and the reaction he has on her.
She coughed, trying to not embarrassed herself responding. “No” y/n said weakly.
“Do you want to escort you to my bedroom?” he asked her with his raspy voice.
“Please” y/n begged without caring how bad that made her look. She wanted to feel the pleasure again. Y/n moved on her lap out of instinct.
“Behave then” he warned her, returning his hands to her waist to stop her.
Tom lifted his body, at the same time he held y/n closer to his sculpted body. He let his handhold her from her bum while he started the long ran towards his room. He could take her on the couch, but he wanted to take his time with her and for that his big bed was the perfect place.
Y/n rest her arms around Tom’s neck and her legs circle his upper body. As he moved walking, y/n bounce up and down a little due to him but another part was boosted by the heat between her tights. Her centre searched the friction that his -hard as rocks- abs brought every time she moved closer.
“Y/n” Tom scolded her, and she blushed visibly. “Wait a little more and I’ll make you feel good” he extended the last word. She closed her eyes, resting her head on the crook of his neck, sensing his promise with anticipation.
“I need you now, Tom” she whispered.
Tom smirked, opening his bedroom door. “I know, baby. You have to wait though…be a good girl for me, okay?” he asked, letting her come down from his body. With some resistance from her, Tom made space between their bodies. “Now,” he started. “Move towards the bed and strip” Tom order her with his eyes full of lust.
Y/n stared up at his head. She came down to her senses and embarrassment fuelled her. Y/n was now very aware of what she was wearing under her clothes.
This morning when she woke up and got ready for work, far from her imagination was to be at the end of the day in front of a hot man waiting for her to undress. So, her early choice of underwear wasn’t right -in her opinion- for the special occasion.
Tom stared at the girl standing a stiff meter from him. He was sceptical about her attitude. The boy was between thinking ‘maybe this is it…she doesn’t want to have sex…be respectful’ and -his irrational side- paying attention to his hard member.
He tried to give her a minute, but when she didn’t do or say anything he interrupted the silence. “What’s on your mind, darling?” he said, sweetly approaching her. Y/n looked up when he combed a strand of her behind her right ear.
“I- Um- I don’t- “she mumbled.
Tom felt bumped down thinking she was going to reject him. “You don’t want to…?”
“No!” she shouted. Tom widen his eyes. “Sorry. Didn’t meant to scream.” She took a big breath. “It’s not that I want to stop…the opposite in fact” she scrunched her eyes, looking into his. “I- I don’t think I’m dressed for the occasion…y’know?”
“I’m not following you, sweetheart” If he continued with the cute name she was going to burst or something.
“I didn’t think this morning this- “she moved her hands between them. “would happen, right?”
Tom tried to respectfully respond. “Right”
“Well, I- “Y/n didn’t know how to tell him her worries without sounding or looking stupid.
“Love, whatever it’s- “Tom continue but y/n interrupted him abruptly.
“I’m not wearing my best underwear” she shouts. Closing her eyes tights because she couldn’t bear looking at him.
Tom chuckled a little making her get angry and as fast as she closed her globes she opened them.
Before y/n she let any sound came out from her mouth, Tom kissed her taking all her breath away. Y/n got lost on the beautiful sensation he awoke in her every time Tom touched her with his lips.
The brunet leaned backward taking her in again. He smirked when she fell a little forward chasing his lips. “Can I undress you, y/n?” he simply asked. He acknowledged her pupils grew a size wider out of pleasure. Y/n simply bow her head. “Perfect” he responded. “If you want me to stop, just say it” he kissed her neck, so softly that y/n thought maybe she imagined it.
Tom took his tongue out, licking the connection between her neck and her shoulder. He licked and bite the zone, meanwhile, his hands come up to untucked her shirt from inside her skirt. Without rushing it, he lifted the shirt. Some of her digits also sneaked under the material leaving a trail of tingle sensations along her sides.
When he reached the side of her breasts, Tom stopped cupping them. Y/n started moaning and throwing her head from side to side. He lifted his head, watching her in pure bliss. She was beautiful but when she whined because of him, she was even more.
Y/n opened her eyes at the time she sensed he stopped. Tom was staring at her and leafing the shirt a little more. When she looked eyes with him, he moved it so it was finally out of her body.
He stared down at her breasts. His mouth watered and his cocked twitched a little. Tom felt like a teenager again around Y/n.
She became too aware of his sight and shrugged a little. “No” he held lovingly her arms on either side of her body. “Let me see you, please” she wasn’t even fully naked, but she felt exposed. His begging thought brought her attention.
He leaned towards her body and squatting down, he left a kiss in the valley between her boobs. She closed her eyes again. Tom let his hands wander on her backside. First, he touched the lower part only touching with the tips of his slender fingers. Then, he when up little by little in synchronicity with his mouth kissing and biting her breasts from above the cotton of her white bra.
Tom looked up when he reached the lock of her underwear, silently asking again for her consent. “Please” y/n begged without even opening her eyes.
She didn’t have to say it twice. Tom took the piece. Little by little, he made it travel from her upper body towards her arms - forming goose bumps on the skin of her limbs-, letting the bra finally out too. Y/n sighed.
Tom returned to his previous position, and breath out. “Are you okay?” y/n moaned feeling his breath reached her left nipple. He was going to drive her insane.
“Yes” she answered. Her response followed by a high-pitched exclamation when his mouth engulfed her bud. Tom’s mouth twisted her nipple.
Y/n brought her hand to play with his hair, she pulled while he continued giving attention to her breasts. Tom went from one to another. He let his hands join the fist. “Oh, god” y/n breath out. He was too good.
Without taking care of his current actions, Tom hands wandered around the bottoms of her skirt. He was desperate to watch every part of her body and worship her.
Tom unbuttoned it. Before Y/n knew, she was naked from the waist up and her skirt was on the floor pooling around her feet. Thomas let go of her right bud making her protest. He leaned up, confronting her again. Her hands took the place his mouth just left. “You like it that much, don’t ya?” he cockily asked, even though it was more a remark than a question. Y/n looked at him, trying to know what he wanted her to do next. “Can I take your shoes off?” y/n mind was so gone. If she was on her five senses, she would probably laugh about her shoes still on while she was almost naked. Y/n only managed to whisper a ‘yes’ though.
Tom knelt down. He untied her shoes, throwing them somewhere around.
He placed a kiss on both of her ankles. Y/n locked down to the brunet -still inside his suit- at her feet, worshiping her.
When Tom reached her knees, he placed his hands behind them. He caressed her soft skin in contrast to the sight he had in front all scratched. “Still hurts?”
He let her wait and long for him a little more. “Your knees, y/n” he wondered.
“No- I- I forget about them” she confessed.
Tom didn’t say more. He trailed up his hands. He felt called by her body, so he kissed the inside of her tights, very close to her centre. Y/n was over his teasing by now, eager to finally feeling he was really touching her. “Tom, please- “
“What, honey? Tell me what you need?”
“What of me?”
“Please, I- “she gripped his hair.
“You have to tell me…”
“Touch me…there” she said choppy.
“My pleasure” Tom stated, tagging her panties down quickly almost desperately this time. “Sit” he ordered. Y/n sited on the verge of his bed, opening her legs wide for him. “Fuck” he said, looking directly at the place recently undressed. “You’re so wet for me, baby” he came closer. He kissed her hips before opening her entrance with his hands. Y/n leaned backward, touching one of her breasts with a hand and the other kept her weight.
Her folds were wetter than he ever experienced on a woman. He traced the outside of her swollen lips, teasing her a little more but didn’t last much. Tom was as impatient as her to discover how she tasted down there.
Tom gave her intimate parts a large lick bottom up. “Oh yes” she cried. Tom chooses to give her clit his full attention. He sucked and bit tenderly her little bud. He moaned, sensing her getting more and more aroused by his actions. “Fingers” she required.
She didn’t have to say it twice, and he pleased her. His fingers were bigger than hers. He started letting only one inside her tight pussy. Her walls engulfed it quickly. Tom tried to distract her body returning to lick her clit.
After he sensed she was ready, he introduced another finger. This time without waiting he started scissoring inside y/n, making room for his cock.
“Are you close, baby?” Tom asked, knowing very well the answer. Y/n didn’t answer. “Look at you taking my fingers so well. You’re so wet and warm…I can’t wait to be inside you” Tom talked to her, pumping his digits inside and out repeatedly.
“Tom” she moaned. “Please, faster” she begged in a high voice. Already feeling on her belly how close she was to finally reach her release. Tom did as she said. “Tommyy” she whined, coming undone.
Her walls pressing around his fingers. Tom helped her ride the last waves of her orgasm. He could only feel and smell her. It was intoxicating.
The boy took his fingers out of his cunt and replaced them with his mouth. Y/n rested on the bed and -in the meantime- Tom cleaned her with his tongue.
Tom whipped his mouth with his hand, looking at her breathing now more steady. “Are you okay?” he inquired, placing himself beside her on the bed.
Y/n reached an arm out, caressing his cheek. “Yes…that was- “she couldn’t find the word.
“That good, ha?” he said full of himself.
“Not the first…but I forget how- “she started messing with him, smiling at him.
“Oh, shut up” he locked their mouths. Y/n placed her hands on his shoulders, noticing he was still fully clothed.
“Why am I the only naked here?”
“Smooth way to ask me to undress, love” he smirked, standing up. He took his t-shirt without caring where the thing fell. Y/n watched the beautiful man undone his belt and lower his zip. “Do you like what you see?” Tom focused his attention up, on her.
“Meh” she pretended to be uninterested. Tom took his pants down, grabbing his boxers in the same direction, at the same time. His member moved towards his belly. Fully hard and making y/n’s mouth wet.
“What about now?” he stood proudly. Y/N without saying anything, knelt in front of him, still on the bed. She avoided his gaze, taking on her hand his cock which leaked precum. “You don’t- “
“But I want” she stated. Bringing her mouth closer to it. Y/n licked the sensible tip of his shaft, Tom held her loosed hair with both of his hands.
“I’m not sure I would last lo- “y/n licked from his sack until she let his tip inside her mouth shutting Tom up. Tom’s hips moved forward, introducing his member inch by inch until she took him almost fully. “Tell me if you want to stop” he said, swinging his hips forward using her mouth. Y/n didn’t complain. She let him use her as he wants and for as long as he wanted.
Sooner than Tom wanted to admit, he felt his climax closer and closer. He didn’t want to come that way. “Love” he said opening his eyes, moving backward. She let his member out of her mouth, bounce between them. “I want to be inside you” he let her know.
“Condom?” she lifted her hand towards him. His neurons made synapses and Tom started looking inside the closest drawer. He found one -after checking it was on date- and rolled it down his cock.
“Move to the pillow” he instructed her. “You look so gorgeous on my bed. Ready for me” he complimented her.
Tom crawled until their noses touched. He kissed her. He’d missed their lips. Y/n followed his force and tempo so perfectly that it made him almost came. He stopped the kiss. “Ready?” he whispered, locking eyes with y/n. She gave him green light to continue.
He looked down, graving his member and admiring their bodies together. She felt him touch her entrance and stiff a little. It was so long ago she had sex, she felt nervous all over again. “Hey” Tom caught her attention. “Breath” Y/n didn’t notice she was holding it.
After she did, Tom continued introducing his member. A wave of pleasure overtook his senses. “Tom” y/n said, tilting back her head. He opened his eyes, bringing his body closer and closer as he touched her special place fully inside of him. He rested his forehead on hers, reaching for her hands. Tom placed them above her head.
He tried to stay steady, waiting for her to continue. “Please move” she begged after a couple of minutes. “Fuck, Tom” she sensed him moving in pure bliss.
“Y/n” he moaned as well.
The brunet found a steady place, bringing himself and her closer and closer to the climax. The room was full of noises of pleasure coming from her and his mouths. Y/n took her hands out of his, replacing them on his bum letting him know to move faster.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck” she screamed. “I’m so close- Please, please” she continued.
“You’re taking me so well” Tom said, looking down the place where they connected their bodies. The sight of his member appearing from inside her and then disappearing it was unaccountable. “Touch your clit, y/n” he asked, high on pleasure. Y/n started circling her bud adding more pleasure, one step closer to come.
His trusts become sloppier and quicker. Y/n brought her hand to his hair once more, crossing her legs behind her back. Tom trusted inside her cunt once more, making her come with a loud and raspy noise with her walls grabbing his tighter making Tom came as well minutes later. “Y/n” he exclaimed, in a sexy raspy voice.
Tom let all the weight of his body fall on y/n’s. He hid his face on the crook of her neck, smelling…them.
“You okay, champ?” y/n laughed, caressing his scalp with tender fingers.
“More than that” she sensed his smile on her skin.
Ring ring ring
Y/n turned around on the bed slightly awoken by the noise around the room.
The device interrupted the silence again. Y/n groan loudly. The tiredness of her body maintained her eyes shut. She didn’t want to move a single muscle.
Tom opened finally opened his eyes, looking around trying to figure out from where the phone was ringing and disturbing their peace. He saw it on the side table opposite to him. His sight fell on the girl turned towards his body, fast asleep.
He felt bad to wake her, but maybe the call was important. “Gorgeous” Tom tried.
“Mhm” she mumbled. Tom caressed her cheek, partly worried by the call but another part of him wanted to enjoy the moment as much as they could.
“Someone is calling you…might be important” y/n looked at him from her partially opened eyelids. Y/n straightened up after comprehending what he was trying to say to her.
She raised slightly up and turned around graving her phone. She saw the ID call and then the hour. “Fuck” she complained. Tom stayed silent, watching her get out of bed all in her naked glory. “I know” y/n told to the person at the other side of the line. “Yeah, yeah…I’m sorry, I fell asleep. Yes- I’ll be as soon as possible there…yeah, sorry sorry” she continued talking, passing around the bedroom.
She hung up and directed her sight towards Tom. He stayed still. “I gotta go” she informed him.
“I’ll order an- “she returned her attention to the thing on her hand.
“Forget it…I’ll drive you” Tom stated, standing from the comfy and cozy bed. Y/n came to the realization they were naked. The thought surprised her. She didn’t felt embarrassed at all, in fact, she was surprised about how the situation felt natural and intimate.
“You don’t have to, y’know?” she said, while Tom round her with his strong and veiny arms. She let her body melt with his.
“I know” he kissed her shoulder. “But I want to”
“Fine. But I’ll return the favour then” she pocked a finger on his chest.
He blushed visibly. “Oh, I can imagine how…” he teased. Y/n laughed.
“Okay, but now I have to hurry up” she stated.
Tom parked, as closer to her workplace as he could at that hour of the morning. He turned the car off, directing his attention towards y/n. Who frantically arranged her bag, making sure she had everything in there.
“Okay. Thanks for dropping me…” Y/n expressed her gratitude.
“No problem. I’ll walk you” he said, opening the door without leaving her option to refuse. It was kind of cute, so she let him.
They walked in silence until she suddenly stopped at the door of her work. Tom walked two steps more, making her chuckled. “This is me” she said, awkwardly.
“Stop that” he said, coming closer. He didn’t care about being recognized or anything, he was wearing his disguise outfit.
“What?” she said, moving from one foot to the other. “I gotta go, Tom” she tried to hurry up.
“I know…but first- “
“Yeah?” she asked.
“Can I have your number?” he brought his phone out of his front pocket.
“Sure” she said, graving it without thinking more out of it and saving her number. “Okay, really I need to get in. Talk to you later, okay?”
“Okay” he said, leaning forward stealing a soft kiss from her lips. “Have a nice day” he breathed out, from an inch distance making her weak on the knees.
“You too” she responded, closing a little her eyes.
“Y/n!” someone screamed from behind them. She opened her eyes wide, turning around. Her colleague and great friend, Sara, stared at her waving her arms. “Sorry to interrupt…but get your ass inside!” she scolded her.
“Yes, yes” y/n answered, walking far from Tom.
Tom saw her walk closer to her friend, turning around when she remembered his presence. “Bye” he waved.
“See ya” she responded and entering finally the coffee place. Tom laughed about her antics.
“See ya” Y/n mumbled, putting on the brown apron. She shacked her head. “Could I say something stupider?” she hit herself.
“Could you stop that?” Sara interrupted her out loud talking.
“Sorry” y/n apologized.
“Great. Now- “Sara started. “When did you meet Tom fucking Holland?” she half screamed, half-whispered.
“What are you talking about?” y/n distracted herself by arranging cups on the counter. Gladly for her, the morning was not busy as always that day at work.
“Then…who’s the boy you came to work with?” Sara frown and fold her arms together.
“Tom” y/n simply said. Her friend just stared at her blankly. Realization hit her. “Oh, fuck” she exclaimed. “I didn’t- “
“You didn’t know what?”
“I meet him yesterday…”
“You two didn’t talk?” Sara inquired, y/n blushed recalling the activities between Tom and her.
“Yeah, we did…but- “
“But what? Come on” Sara insisted.
“We meet yesterday- I fell in front of him” she explained to her friend.
“Smooth” Sara stated.
“Shut up” y/n laughed. “He took me to his house- “
“You allowed a stranger to take you to his house? This is not a Disney movie, y’know?” Sara worried screamed.
Y/n looked around the few occupied tables, acknowledging Sara brought attention towards them. “Could you please lower your voice?”
Silence fell upon them. Y/n took a big breath and continue with the story, “I know it wasn’t the wisest idea but- “she said before Sara could whine again. “He treats me right, with respect and all. And then…things get heated” y/n blushed again.
“Yeah, I see” Sara smirked. “So, you never knew he was Spider-man? You’re one special little shit”
“I didn’t, I swear. I knew he was famous or important at least because his fans mugged me…but he never said more than his first name” she thought out loud. “Should I worry about that?”
“Don’t say it like that” y/n whined.
“I don’t. I just…take it easy, I think…maybe it’s a one-time thing…” Sara tried to keep her expectations low. She watched y/n get hurt too many times.
“Yeah, sure. He’s famous…he’s so handsome” y/n rambled. “He probably has hundreds of models and drop dead gorgeous girls- “
“And yet, he fucked you” y/n gave her a warning look, with her mouth wide open. “I didn’t mean it like that, though. I just say…take it easy, okay?”
“Sure” y/n respond. She shacked him out of her head, and grab a cloth to wipe some tables. She was back in real life.
One week later…
“Y/n…” Sara said after she saw her friend cheeking her phone a hundred times that morning. “Quit it”
Y/n tried to play it cool, “What are you talking about?” But failed entirely on the process. She noticed the disappointment on her friend’s face. “Why?”
“Why he didn’t call or text? He promised to do it. Agh, I’m so naïve. I hate myself” Y/n poured a coffee for her. She felt exhausted after the roller-coaster of feelings she went through the entire week.
“Don’t peaty yourself…he’s a dick, that’s it. I’m not watching his movies from now on” Sara stated. Y/n didn’t believe a word, opposite to her, Sara was an MCU big nerd fan. The doorbell on the front door made its noise, they ignored it completely.
Sara moved towards the cash machine, listening to her friend talked. “I’m not pitying stupid ass…I just, I want to understand. I get it if he doesn’t want to talk or anything…. okay, I’m lying. I would care, of course. I don’t know” she massaged her temples. “I’m so tired”
“Hey” someone said from behind y/n. The sound reached her ears, and she froze in her place.
“Oh, hello superstar” Sara mimicked him. “What can I get you? A couple of balls?”
“Sara!” y/n turned around. Her breath got stuck on her throat. It was impossible for any human to always look that good, but he went even further.
“It’s okay, I deserved it. I don’t want to disturb you though” Tom said looking directly at Y/n, she looked down. “Can I have a coffee…please?” he looked now at Sara.
Y/n didn’t know where to look, or what to say -or not say-. Her brain stopped since the minute he had her attention.
Sara charged him and went to pour the beverage, first checking on her friend. Y/n sensed and looked at her too. The girl turned around again, she couldn’t face this now. She was at work.
Sara finished Tom’s order and extend it for him to take. Tom tried to make eye contact with Y/n, but she denied it to him.
Tom didn’t say a word and went to sit at a table beside a big window. Y/n thought he would walk away, but he obviously did the opposite. He brought his phone and while he scrolled he sipped his coffee little by little. Sara never saw a person drink so slow. He was so obvious.
Y/n’s turned around. “Why don’t you go and arrange the new packages that came today?” she asked sympathetic, with a plan in mind. Her friend's well-being was a priority though.
Y/n spied over her shoulder, checking if he still was there. She cursed under her breath. “Fine” she agreed.
When y/n was out of sight, Tom dropped his act. He wasn’t paying attention to his cup or his phone. He checked her out through the corner of his eye. Tom was waiting for her to approach him whenever she was ready, no caring if he had to wait the entire day.
Tom really didn’t have a solid explanation for his disappearing. The first day, after he dropped her, he held himself for not texted so quickly. Scared she would scare her away. Tom promised himself he would text her later. But later became never, and his mind, his schedule grew busier, and he didn’t have a minute for himself. He knew though that wasn’t good because he had time to rest or spend without doing anything specifically, times when he could have texted her…but he didn’t. He was guilty.
Under all that guilt and bad behaviour of him, Tom felt stupidly and utterly selfish. He wanted her, so much. Sex was great, don’t get him wrong. Something stronger attracted him towards her though. It was so deep and difficult to express even for Thomas.
He was scared after watching him walk away to the -he supposed- was the storage room. He was scared of looking Y/n walked out of his life. Selfish again, he though. He walked away without reaching for her.
His thoughts were interrupted when Sara approached the table he was occupying. “What do you want from her?” she asked bluntly.
“I want to talk to her” he was sincere. He wanted to apologize, and maybe trying to invite her for a date if she didn’t already hate her.
“Why didn’t you text her?”
“That’s…between y/n and I” he said because he couldn’t really explain his reasons.
“She stared at her phone for the entire week. She was sleep-deprived and sad…because of you. So, gave me a good reason for me to let you talk to her. Y/n’s my family and my friend, I have seen her broken to pieces too many times to let a twat broke her again, okay?”
Tom was slightly intimidated by her, not he would admit it though. “I know I messed up. I’m here to apologize…if she doesn’t want to see me again, I’ll respect her. Please, let me talk to her. I had a rough week too” he tried to give her the bigger puppy eyes he could. Sara saw through him, folding her eyes.
“If this is only to fuck her…”
“What? No! I swear” he defended himself, lifting both of his hands. “I just want to talk” Sara stared directly into his eyes, that Tom started to think she would have kicked his ass out of the door. “Fine”
“Seriously?” he asked.
“Yes. But I warned you…I would come for you if you make her cry” she pointed a finger towards him.
“Fine with me” he responded, still on his sit.
“What are you waiting for then? A proper blessing? GO!” she ordered.
Sara didn’t have to say it twice, watching him she sighted and shacked her head.
It was stupid, y/n thought grabbing the next bag out of the brown box and lifting it until it reunited with the rest of the coffee on the shelf.
It was stupid to care that much about a boy. Should she care more because he was famous? No. Should she care more because he was famous and gorgeous? Add he was so good on the bed too. No, of course, she didn’t. But she did care, a lot in fact.
Although she grew angrier when it came down to her sense. It was a shock to see him after that week of ghosting. At the current moment, she wanted to go back to the open space and walk to his table. Y/n didn’t want to scream or anything like that, she wanted to get the anger out somehow without acting like a maniac. Fuck those confusing things. That’s why she didn’t date anyone, anymore, she remembered her heart.
Y/n grabbed another pack of black coffee. Thinking the steps approaching her belonged to Sara she asked, “He left?”
“No” a voice she recognized answered. Of course, it wasn’t her, little traitor. She startled and the coffee fell from her hands making a loud noise. Tom approached her quickly, but before he could kneel she already grabbed the thing and stand up. Directing his way, a bad look. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you” Tom explained, closer than she could bear at that moment.
“Mhm” she said, ignoring him the best that she could.
“Y/n…” he scratched his neck uncomfortable. “I’m sorry”
“Okay” she uttered with difficulty.
Tom admired the side of her face. She was frowning, without looking at him, but he knew she was aware of each of his movements.
When she lifted another pack up, he grabbed her wrist. Y/n sighted, and without taking her hand out of his grip, she looked at him. He was less than a meter beside her. She kept her silence.
“I know I deserve the silent treatment, okay?” he bowed his head down. “I’m an asshole…I know that, and I don’t have any excuse for my behaviour…” Y/n listened to him, trying to ignore the tingled sensation where their skins connect. “Truth is you have more than one reason to tell me to fuck off and leave you alone” Tom looked directly into her eyes. “But another part that it’s also true I’m hoping you don’t do that…because I want to repair you…I can’t take you out of my head, y/n” he confessed to her.
Y/n took her hand out and step far from him. “I heard that before, Tom. I don’t care if I sound like the typical cliché or whatever. I’m tired of waiting and worrying…I can’t do that” she opened up to him.
“Me neither. I swear I’ll keep my promise- “
“I heard that also from others”
“I’m not others” he stated firmly. “Sorry, didn’t mean to snap. Please give me a chance…one date, that’s all” he begged.
Y/n studied him. He was visibly nervous and unsteady. He wasn’t trying to hide it in any way. It was as if Tom wanted to show how vulnerable he was standing in front of her. “One date?” the girl tried to suppress her smile.
“One date” Tom exclaimed, happy.
Y/n felt a strange wave of confidence. “Then you will have to earn it, Tom” she said leaning forward, kissing his cheek softly, and walking away.
Tom looked at her with his eyes wide open. The poor boy didn’t know what just happened. His mind fogged with the feeling of her lips touching his cheek. Did she accept or did she denied the offer? Tom was surely unsure.
“Y/n!” he shouted while he ran behind her.
- The end
Reblog, like, comment...helps a lot, thanks!!
Tom Holland taglist: @official-kye @l0lmk @unbelievableholland@parkerpeterparker2004
Gnra tagist: @musicalkeys @jackiehollanderr @bothlovinglyandhatingly @perspectiveparker @niallssweetheart22@thenoddingbunny-blog @hnslchw @hollandprkr @itstaskeen @hallecarey1 @lovehollandy12 @supermouse
57 notes · View notes
Give Me A Twirl - Tom Holland (smut)
(My gif please give credit)
Summary: Tom had taken you along to watch him do a little charity dance show, after dancing and becoming sweaty you couldn’t help but admire how sexy he looked everytime he danced, Tom catches on and soon invites you for a dance where things get steamy.
Warnings⚠️: some-what smutty, teasing, Dirty talk, mentions of sex, hotnessssss,
Word Count: 1.2k
You moved your hips and dance in place to the music as you watched Tom dance on stage, a big smile on your face as you saw how in his element he was. You walked back stage about halfway through his second to last dance and waited for him on the side next to the curtains. You heard loud applasuses and cheers as he ran off stage and towards you.
“Tom you’re doing great! So many people are donating!”
You said cheerfully as your kissed his lips, he was hot and sweaty which for some reason turned you on. You couldn’t help but take a good look at him.
“It’s crazy! I’m absolutely knackered though”
“Last routine in 10 minutes and then you’re done!”
Tom held your waist and pulled you in for a kiss. As you felt his body against yours it sparked something and you knew you needed him. As yout embrace faded you couldn’t stop looking at Tom’s body. His shirt was slightly unbuttoned exposing a slightly sweaty chest and his trousers were tight around his waist. You craved him in a whole new way. Tom walked over to a table to get some water and you could feel your face get hot as you just watched him, sweat still dripping from hos forehead; It was a fancy event so that night you had worn a lovely red gown that fit you just right, and it was just long enough that you walk around freely without having to pick it up. Tom noticed your glance to him and raised an eyebrow, oh damn did he look even hotter with that expression.
“You alright there y/n?”
He said cheekily taking a sip of his water. You nodded your head and walked up to him
“Perfect— perfectly fine babe”
You placed your hand on his chest and the thought of ripping that shirt off came to your mind and it was almost impossible to get it out, you bit your lip as you imagined Toms body up against yours.
“I feel like you’re not telling me something”
“When’s the last time we fucked?
you asked bluntly, your need for Tom had come through and you had to tell him. The words simply escaped your lips and you really hadn’t intended on saying or asking it that way but it just happened. Tom’s face flushed with redness and he coughed slightly as your words had made the blow flow through his body.
“Fuck baby I-”
“2 minutes till stage time Mr Holland!”
a voice had cut Tom off, you giggled at his little flustered face and leaned in to give him a long kiss.
“You go dance baby, I’ll be waiting over here for when you’re done, then maybe we can have our own show”
Before you could walk away Toms hands gripped to your waist and scrunched up your dress, his hands roamed your body lightly and you could feel his fingertips graze up your bare arm up to the straps of your dress where he fiddled with them lightly.
“Can’t wait to take that off you”
He spoke low and deep, sending a chill all the way down to your core making you wet. Tom gave you one last quick kiss before running to the B side entrance of the stage, he stood there hyping himself up and giving you a little wink as he heard the music start. You heard the loud cheer and within seconds Tom was on the stage again dancing and working up a sweat, you watched and gawked at every dance move you loved that Tom did. With jumps and twirls and loud cheers, Toms last dance came to an end which resulting in heavy panting as he tried to catch his breath.
“Thank you all so much for coming! I hope you all enjoyed the show and thank you all again for all the donations, I wish everyone a lovely goodnight!”
With that, you watched as Tom waved goodbye to the crowd and bowed a couple times then came trotting off stage and back to you where he quickly took your hand and rushed you to his dressing room.
“figured you might as well tell me what you thought of the show in private”
you giggled as Tom sat down on a chair and pulled you on top of him his arms instantly wrapping around you and holding you.
“Well, I thought you did an amazing job baby”
“Mmhm you know, I couldn’t quite get what you said out of my head”
you looked at him slightly confused.
“And what was that?”
Tom pulled you closer and one of his hands managed to move up your gown to where he could gran your thigh.
“Oh you know, how you mentioned us having our own show”
he teased you with his low voice and his fingers on your skin. Both sent Goosebumps through your body and a slight shiver.
“And it turns you on doesn’t it Tom?”
“You have no fucking idea”
Tom grabbed you roughly causing a gasp to escape you and you quickly got off from his lap with a slight giggle just after. Toms playful teasing had put you in a way different sensual mood and Tom was loving it.
“Do you wanna dance?”
Toms hands moved to his suit jacket and he took it off, moving to unbutton his shirt next, before you could answer your eyes feel to the growing bulge in his trousers and the dirty thoughts of riding him filed your imagination causing you to almost moan where you stood
“For me… baby”
Toms hands gestured for you to come back to him, you did so and leaned down to him where you could look into his eyes
“What’s that you want Tommy?”
“Dance for me baby”
Tom’s voice sounded desperate to see you dance for him. But as you were about to back away and do so, you felt Toms touch stopping you
“nuh uh, not so fast baby.”
He pulled you on to him to where you had to straddle him, you could feel his hard member through his trousers and you had to resist the urge to grind on it. Toms hands moved to the back of your dress where they delicately made their way to the zipper, swiftly Tom unzipped your dress fully and with that you stood up again, removing it from your body to reveal a matching lingire set of lovely black lace. Tom placed a hand to his mouth as he couldn’t believe just how sexy and gorgeous you looked in it
“Fuck y/n- Didn’t know you were hiding that under your dress tonight”
“Just a little special something I decided to put on”
Your hands went down your body as your slowly swayed your hips around in up close for Tom.
“Mmmh I wanna see every bit darling”
His hands rested on your hips and his finger tips dug into you slightly, he had a hungry look on his face.
“Give me a good twirl, please?”
You did as he asked and slowly twirled around to show off what you had on, teasingly bending down a bit to drive Tom a bit crazy.
“Now be a good girl and dance for me baby”
72 notes · View notes
SIGHT FOR SORE EYES AND TOM HOLLAND IMAGINE COMING TODAY :)))
38 notes · View notes
Misadventures In Babysitting - Chapter Three Teaser (Dad! Tom Holland x Reader)
SYNOPSIS: When an unexpecting guest arrives at Tom’s doorstep, he finds himself taking on a role he never thought he would. Knowing he can’t do it on his own he turns to one of his closest friends for help.
A/N: Thank you guys so much for always making my day by your sweet words! I really do appreciate and love interacting with ya’ll! I really hope you like this little teaser for the next chapter and I can’t wait to hear what you think! Thank you again to @osterfield-holland-andcompany - my moodboard queen!! Full chapter Monday! Xxx, N
Bouncing Mia up and down a bit, you frowned at her poor, upset face trying to help her out. Taking a seat with her on the couch, you removed the hat from her head she had on so you could wipe some of her tears when you felt her face. That’s when the panic began to set in as you got a better feel of her body temperature.
She felt way too warm for it to be her normal temperature, which started to make you nervous. You sat Mia up on your lap as you tried to let her cool off a bit from laying down. Reaching down, you brought your lips against her bald little head for comfort but it felt even worse against your lips, “What’s going on with you, sweet girl?” you asked her softly as you attempted to study her face.
Mia gurgled as her face turned red with frustration while she rubbed her eyes furiously. It broke your heart to see her so upset and uncomfortable and you had no idea what to do to make her feel better. You could tell she felt off and what hurt even more was Mia unable to tell you how to fix it.
She continued to break out in tears, reaching her hands out to grab you but at the same time, she started pushing you away. Even Mia had no idea what she wanted and it absolutely wrecked you seeing her like this. She was just as frustrated as you were.
“Let’s see what’s going on, okay?” you told her gently while you carried her into the bathroom to check her out. Setting her down on her changing table, you reached for the baby thermometer and brought it against her forehead. Turning it back to yourself, you felt your nerves rushing up even more when you saw such a high number.
Cussing under your breath, you pulled out your phone knowing you should let Tom know. Mia was running a 102 fever and you had no idea what the protocol was for six month olds. Should you take her straight to the emergency room and notify Tom on the way? You were panicking as you grabbed a washcloth from the cabinet and ran it over some cool water to bring to Mia’s head. You were trying anything you could to try and bring her fever down before having to worry Tom.
Tom was already so stressed and worried about Mia, you didn’t want him to leave work because of this. You knew it was important he should know about it but you wanted to hopefully try and figure it out on your own and get it under control before calling it in to Tom. So you unlocked your phone and went directly to Google and typed in Mia’s symptoms to see what would come up.
And the results were absolutely horrifying for you.
(Banner made by @lauras-collection)
Taglist: @giuls-394 @osterfield-holland-andcompany @missmultifandommess @hazmyheart @lauras-collection @iamapersonwholikesunicorns @detroitbydark @mcuassemble @blahhhhhhhaaa @lonikje @beiroviski @ruefulposts @nowayhomeparker @desir-ae @kayla-m1996 @averyfosterthoughts @unicorn-princess-1999 @asmilinghopelessromantic @itsjusttor @whatareyouhidingpeter @when-marvellous-things-happen @mannien @lilostif16 @ninjalex1d @baby-unidorn @astoldbydanid @honey-sea @fallingforfics @lulueliott24 @mikalakat @babebenhardy @coni-martina @captainemrys @mktravelbuggie @underoosmarvel @pluckypete @hollandfanficlove @lookalivefrosty @lightmelikeacigarette @msmarvel-19 @averyfosterthoughts @u-rrose @parker-holland-osterfield @thwip-it-real-good @shirukitsune @justanotherusername80 @dangerdolns @jwolfesblog @jjayyc @ifilosemyselfagain @axisnpalma @londonspidey @just-a-littlebit-of-everything @bookgirlunicorn @kfcyum @thenoddingbunny-blog @buzzbuzzitsmeagainbitch @herondale-snow-carstairs @marvelobsessedteenager @unlimitedd @dramaholic18 @softholand @panicattheeverywherekid @emotionally-unstable23 @quackeroos @unbelievableholland @holyhumorliteraturelight @spideyyeet @katiekinzs @fanficparker @ifntelyinspirit @rubberducky-jrr @xguardgirlx @xxpeachyxo @hazardosterfield @xstarbae @justanotherusername80 @photoshopart15 @spiderbibby @the-fandom-life-forever @jannine00742 @azaraspirit @parachutepantswedgie-blog @decadentwastelandtrash @anythingthaticareabout @outshineallthestars @captainamirica @thehauntingofmymind @watermelonsponge @sinisterspidey @adayasgeorgia @obliviatevamps @damnrancidchicken @lolooo22 @cocoamoonmalfoy @spideyspeaches @hollandprkr @peachitofu @quacksonholland @itscaminow @ohtobelovedbyyou @diffind0 @tomhollandsslut @chipot-lol @agustdowney @305weasley @youvebeenlizzed @spidey-sophie @pure-ghost @inlovewith3 @littlebookbengal @quacksonfrog @thsquad @cherrytholland @countingstarsmylove @tomshufflepuff @sippin-on-tea @abcxrandomx @obiwanownsmyass @bendermcc @soursolis @tomsirishgirlx @imawhoreforu @allthisfortommy @hoodpankow @t-hollanderr @blahblahblah-boo @bi-lmg @lharrietg @elfriedeelfriede @angie1djonasgg @thesadgirl5455 @peterbparkersbae @sara-1705 @queen-of-no1
84 notes · View notes
I am really proud of this, lol
Request: I have a request, please! If you could do one about Y/N who is fairly famous (singer or actress whatever doesn't matter lol) and Tom who have been secretly dating for a while both come on to the Graham Norton show and they have awesome banter and give each other f*ck me eyes the whole time so social media blows up about it so they come out that they are dating. Thank you!
Warnings: Swearing, Fluff
A/n: HI, so I used the Graham Norton episode w tom, Jake, Tom hanks, and Gwyneth as a reference, BUT I AM CHANGING STUFF ABT IT, DONT COME AT ME PLS. Only instead of Gwyneth, its reader!!! Also Ik the request is kind of different, but I wanted to add some stuff.
This is how the story will work. It's a little different from the structure of my other stories. So, I will describe a part of the interview and then I will go in-depth on it. That made no sense but as you read it you'll understand.
⚠️MOST OF THE STORY IS DIALOGUE⚠️
¨His the oscar-nominated actor for Brokeback Mountain, Nightcrawler, and Donnie Darko. Please welcome Jake Gyllenhaal¨ Graham begins and the crowd goes wild as soon as he comes out. Jake is the first one to sit on the red couch.
¨His your friendly neighborhood Spiderman, it's Mr. Tom Holland¨ Graham continues, Tom coming out from backstage, seating next to Jake. The crowd still going wild.
¨She´s an oscar-winning actress and a top ten billboard musician, please welcome Y/N Y/L/N¨ it's your turn to walk on stage, you hug Graham and take a seat next to your boyfriend. Secret boyfriend.
¨She is also an oscar-winning actress and the creator of GOOP, Please welcome Gwyneth Paltrow¨ The crowd whistled.
¨And back as Sheriff Woody in Toy Story 4, he is Hollywood great and a double-oscar winner. Please welcome, Tom Hanks!¨ Graham welcome the last guest.
The crowd started to calm down, and the show began. It was the first time you did an interview with Tom, so both of you were trying hard not to be touchy with each other. Of course, Tom blew it in the first 5 minutes:
¨So Tom¨ Graham Started ¨Fame is obviously kinda new to you..¨
¨Mjm¨ Tom nodded, listening to the question.
¨Are the Holland clan keeping your feet on the ground?¨ Graham asked
¨Yeah, they do a good job too¨ Tom started, but he didn't realize when he started talking, he placed his hand on your thigh. You stuck in a breath, and he felt it. He soon realized what he had just done and removed his hand. Luckily, no one on the stage seems to notice. The fans sure did. Tom continued talking like nothing had happened, sounding very convincing.
A few minutes after, Graham started talking about Toy Story 4. He asked a random question to Tom Hanks that almost blew your cover with Tom. Again:
¨ I started recording Woody in 1991¨ Tom Hanks spoke.
¨Guess who wasn't born by then?¨ Graham laughed
¨Am going to say half-¨ The crowd laughed ¨ Everybody to my left was not yet concived¨ He signaled to move his arm, and both you and Tom raised your hands.
¨I was having good sex in 1991. You don't find that any more¨ Gwyenth said laughing.
¨Boy! That's true, the good old times¨ Tom H said.
¨Well, no actually, you can still find pretty good sex¨ You said, smirking devilishly at your boyfriend while the crowd whistled. This time, Graham caught the smirk.
¨Talking about anyone specific y/N?¨ He asked, playing with his cards.
¨Oh no, just saying¨ You shrugged, and Tom grinned.
¨Well we've painted a picture now, thank you¨ Graham joked, making everyone on the set laugh.
Next, Tom Hanks gave both of you a task. He was explaining to everyone how young actors are often asked to make repetition. Of course, you and Tom were the two youngest actors in the room, so he picked you guys. The exercise consisted of you asking Tom ´would you like more coffee?.´ He had to reply with ´coffee, coffee, boy! Do I need more coffee? Tom got a little bit carried away:
¨Okey so y/n, you will ask Tom that same question over and over again, ok?¨ Tom Hanks instructed.
¨Sure, let's do this!¨ You said with anticipation.
¨Tom, you will be saying, Coffee, coffee boy do I need more coffee in every conceivable way you can¨
¨Okey, am ready¨ Your boyfriend spoke, and you repositioned yourself to face him properly.
¨Would you like some more coffee?¨ You began, smiling at him.
¨Coffe, coffee, boy do I need more coffee.¨ He recalled, turning on his English accent to the fullest.
¨Would you like some more coffee?¨ You asked again.
¨Coffee, coffee, boy do I need more coffee.¨ He repeated himself, a little less enthusiastic this time.
¨Come on, Tom, can you try it with a little more something to it, man?¨ The crowd laughed, and he nodded.
¨Yes, Y/N, I can¨ He smiled, fixing his suit.
¨Okey, Would you like some more coffee?¨ You started again
¨Coffee, coffee, please y/n, I need some more coffee¨ He said, stronger this time.
¨Good, Would you like some more coffee?¨
¨Coffee, coffee, please Mis, I need some more coffe¨ His voice cracking this time.
¨Would you want some more coffee¨ You continued, staring at his beautiful eyes.
¨Coffee, coffee, come on y/n, I need some more coffee¨ He opened his hands and cocked his head to the side.
¨Would you like some more coffee¨ You asked one last time.
¨Coffee, please Babe, I need some more coffee. Please Y/N Y/N/L, give me some coffee¨ Tom said in a desperate manner. He didn't realize what he said. You sure did, as well as Gwyneth, who gave you a look, and you brushed it off. What both of you didn't know, was the internet, was freaking out about all the little easter eggs they have been giving.
Now, it was Gwyneth´s time to talk about GOOP. Graham welcomed the topic about her famous, Vaginal steaming. Tom just had to comment on it:
¨...And Vagaina steaming, we had never heard of that¨ Graham laughed. ¨Now a day, who doesn't steam their Vagaina?¨ Graham told
¨You are sitting on a steam right now¨ Gwyneth announced.
¨mmmm¨ Graham wiggled around in his chair, pretending to be in a vaginal steamer. Tom looked at you and laughed.
¨The whole point of this steamer was to provide health and freshness to a woman¨ Gwyneth explained.
¨Y/N, you tried this famous vaginal steamer yourself. Is that right?¨ Graham asked you, and you nodded. ¨You posted this picture in your Instagram story after you tried it.¨ The photo was shown.
¨Yes, I tried it and it's super relaxing and comfortable. It does really work! you confessed.
¨Oh believe me, it does work really well.¨ Tom fixed his hair and the crowd laughed.
¨Have you tried them before, Tom?¨ Tom Hanks asked surprised.
¨Well I sure have mate, just not in the way you'd expect¨ You hit Tom with your elbow, knowing exactly what he's talking about. Jake noticed what Tom said, kicking his feet to shut him up.
¨I hear there's an Ancient practice where you drink your own urine¨ Jake tried to change the subject.
¨Oh yeah, we do that¨ Tom said pointing at you and him, and the crowd burst out laughing. You weren't happy. Tom knew what he was doing. He had wanted to make your relationship public for a while now. He was definitely convincing people about the idea.
¨We drink each others¨ You followed along
¨I think Jake wasn't informed you were going to share that information¨ Graham joked again. You all laughed at Jake's funny face.
Graham complimented how young you looked, he asked you if you had any similar issues as what Tom Hanks had just said. He said he had issued being served in bars. Graham asked if you had experienced anything like that, and well :
¨How old are you y/n?¨ He asked
¨I am 22¨ You smiled
¨Beacuse you do look awfully young, do you have the same issue as Tom Hanks over here?¨
¨Well, I do have a similar storie¨ You began ¨Recenlty, I went to the bar with my boyfriend and his mom¨
¨Oh, she's taken, everyone. Staff! be ready to pass the tissues.¨ Graham and his jokes. The crowd laughed once again.
¨Haha, yeah¨ You turned to Tom. He winked at you. The camera definitely caught that. ¨So as I was saying, they didn't want to let To-my boyfriend mom in, because she didn't have an ID. ¨
¨What?!¨ Tom Hanks laughed.
¨Yeah and my boyfriend was all like ´I came out of my mum 25 years ago you fucking idiot´¨ You pretended to talk in a British accent, making fans wonder.
¨Toy Story was in cinemas!¨ Graham replied, and you laughed.
¨That was a really smooth accent y/n¨ Tom rolled his eyes
¨Yes, y/n you know his delicate about the accent¨ Jake joked.
¨So your boyfriend is British?¨ Graham asked, cocking his head to the side. Tom turned around to look at you.
¨Ye-yeah, he is british¨ Fuck, you blew too much away.
¨Mmm, she definitely had good taste¨ Graham joked.
The last blow of that night was the biggest. Stormzy had just finished performing on stage. He was from England and lived in Tom's neighborhood. Stormzy exposed a little too much:
¨Stormzy, you actually know Tom well don't you?¨ Graham shuffled his cards.
¨Yeah, my parent's house is in the neighborhood. Sometimes I see you and y/n walking your dog. I am sorry but your dog's walk is so cute¨ Stormzy replied to Graham, meaning to cause no harm. You and Tom shared a look, knowing everything was out. Graham wanted to ask about that, but time was on your side that day.
¨That was all for today everyone. Thank you!¨ Graham ended the show.
The next day after the interview, the media was out of its mind. You woke up to the sound of your phone buzzing. You turned around to see your boyfriend already awake, looking at his phone.
¨Oh we fucked up¨ He said, looking down at his phone.
¨Good morning to you too, baby¨ you scoffed. He kissed your head.
¨Morning love, happy? Now, look at your phone.¨
¨Ugh¨ you looked at your phone and saw all the headlines and posts. There were videos, ship accounts, pictures, messages, all types of stuff.
¨I am surprised am not being threatened by any of your fourteen-year-olds, babe¨ You joked
¨Shut up. They are all lovely¨
¨12 year difference Tom¨ You reminded him.
¨What!? That I love my fourteen-year-olds, doesn't mean ama marry them¨ He pled ¨I will marry you¨ He touched your nose, and you smiled.
¨We should just make it public¨ You shrugged.
Tom posted a picture on his Instagram. It was a picture of both of you in bed cuddling. He captioned it ¨youp, she is my secret lover¨.
Both of you shut your phones off and decided to watch your interview from the day before, cuddling in bed
¨Man, I was giving you fuck eyes the whole time¨ Tom mumbled, you laughed.
Request something/talk to me :) 👈
248 notes · View notes
hello!!!!! I Would Like To Request Where Tom Holland is obsessed with the reader boobs and they are watching a movie together on toms rooms when he asked if he could suck her boobs while watching the movie??
Request/Chat with Me
You laid in bed next to Tom, curved into his side as your eyes were trained on the TV. One of his arms was pinned under your back, hand coming out the other side and curving around your ribcage, holding you close to him, he liked having you close to him, liked feeling your skin under his fingers and...and in his mouth.
He shook his head, trying to shake the thoughts loose but they seemed to stick, they were stuck and his hands were so closer to the two mounds of flesh that he just wanted to nip and suck on, massage them in his palms as he would tug on them lightly, watching you out of his hooded eyes, through the dark brown strands of his lashes as you tried to focus on the movie.
He shifted a little, moving so his hand was even farther out the other side of your body and curling it to rest on your breast, giving the mound a soft squeeze making your eyes widen in surprise.
"Tom, what are you doing?” you asked, laughing at his boyish actions when he gave your breast another squeeze.
“Nothing” Tom mumbled, as he leaned down, trailing his nose along your collarbone, dipping dangerously close to your cleavage.
“Really? Cause it seems like you’re doing something” you teased breathlessly, your back involuntarily arching into Tom’s face, forcing his lips to press against the flushed skin of your sternum, a contented sigh leaving his lips as he looked up at you.
“Can I-” he paused, biting his lip in embarrassment, you raised your eyebrows, looking at him, urging him to finish the sentence “Can I suck your nipple?” he mumbled, tearing his gaze from yours, not wanting to see if your face broke out into a look of judgement.
A loving laugh passed your lips, forcing Tom to look back at you, you wore a look of adoration, eyes lit up as you bit your lip.
“Of course you can'' you assured, stroking his cheek with your thumbs, a smile over taking his soft face, sharp features striking with joy. Without words Tom slipped his fingers between your skin and your tank top, your breasts becoming exposed to the slightly cooler air of the room.
Your nubs didn’t get a chance to harden at the temperature change, instead it was because of the stimulation, Tom’s fingers and mouth immediately latching onto your breasts. Fingers tweaking over your nipple repeatedly, mouth sucking softly at the sensitive bud. You laced your fingers through his hair, nails scratching over his scalp as he gave you the simplest form of pleasure. A hum of contentment vibrated through your soft mounds as Tom mouthed over every inch of flesh he could, suck light marks haphazardly. Your exposed chest littered with remnants of lust and love as the TV flickered long forgotten on the other side of the room.
156 notes · View notes
So as some of you already saw, my requests are gonna be closed for a while. There are some requests just begging to be written in my inbox already so imma finish those and I will also keep writing Love & Other Desires. I also have to get some reading done do I can REVIEW THE SHIT OUTTA THEM
Until I resume my request taking, I will be accepting questions. Literally any questions. You can just talk to me too. Unload your feelings.
LETS HAVE A CONVERSATION and get to know each other!! (Anons are welcome)
Ok thanks, and I love you🌸💋 for all the love y’all gave me!!!
Permanent: @julyvegan @tenaciousperfectionunknown @mysweetlittledesire @bbl32 @noshame-bb @cece5 @white-wolf1940 @marvelfansworld @jassiejj2118 @sohosteve @sia2raw @amelia-song-pond @honeymarvel @hart-failure @Clints-worldavengers
Love & Other Desires: @fallenoutofrose
Stucky: @spookyparadisesheep @marvelatthisone @eviegall
If you wanna be tagged in my works, lemme know here.
You can find my other works on my Main Masterlist.
22 notes · View notes
Work Out Wednesday 💕💞😍
74 notes · View notes
Hello and thank you for making your way to my page! If you want to find out a little bit more about me then just keep reading!
For starters, I do not write smut so please do not request it, the most I do is slightly implied and soft makeouts. If you want to check out my fic recs, then go to the little magnifying glass at the top of the page and search up h’sficrecs and everything on Tom Holland, Peter Parker, and Arvin Russell should pop up!
A little bit about me:
Hello! I go by H on here and I am 18 years old. For college I want to pursue culinary and plan on going to New York for college and start a bakery so you might find a lot of fics that have baking in them haha. When I’m not doing schoolwork or working, I love to read and write on here for Peter Parker though I may start writing for other characters from different books as well.
I fully speak English and I am currently learning Spanish, Hawian, and Greek, so if you have any tips, come and message me if you want!
I am pretty active on here so feel free to message me, or request something and I will respond/write it fairly quickly (I hope).
My interests are reading, writing, painting/drawing, and crocheting. My favorite books to read are the Percy Jackson/Heroes of Olympus books as well as the side series like Trails of Apollo, Magnus Chase, and The Kane Chronicles. I am an absolute simp for Tom Holland and Peter Parker so you’ll probably be seeing a lot of simp posts from me haha. I love the Marvel movies and cast; my favorites are Black Panther, Ant-Man, both Spider-Man movies, Age of Ultron, and Infinity War.
What can you send me?
You can send absolutely anything you want, just keep it PG-13 though. As I said earlier, I write mainly for Peter Parker and hopefully Arvin in the future as well as Percy x Annabeth fics (from the Percy Jackson series) and for the others included in the Seven; and for Mare Barrow x Cal from the Red Queen series! I love interacting with people no matter if they’re anonymous or not, and I highly encourage you guys to request something, or even if you just want to talk! So here is a list of things that I will not tolerate in my inbox:
Racism or homophobia: I absolutely will not tolerate these at all so please do not send in anything that supports this because you will be blocked if you do. This also includes anything related to sexism, transphobia, antisemtic, islamophobia, and any other form of hate. I hate that we still have to put these out there, but here we are.
Celebrity love lives: Look, I’m just here to thirst over Tom, not to be involved in his love life because that is his business and since he is an actor and has no privacy, I feel that we as his fans owe it to him to not care and just let him be happy. So please do not send in anything Tomdaya related or any hate towards past girlfriends or any of that kind.
NSFW: I’ll say it again, I do NOT write anything nsfw/smut so please do not request this or put it in my inbox, just keep everything PG-13. I do hope that everyone respects this as I am not comfortable talking or writing about it.
Can you direct message me?
Absolutely! Please I encourage you to whether you want to talk or request, but yes I am always available so feel free to do so.
Do you take requests?
Yes I do! Currently it is summer so I have a lot of free time, but once school starts back I will be very busy because I signed up for two advanced classes like an idiot and I can’t back out so any writing later this year may take a hot minute.
I will write fluff, angst, and hurt/comfort. If you do request angst, just expect a happy ending because I am a sucker for them and I hate not writing one.
I will not write anything that has to do with sexual assault, domestic/physical abuse, incest, and anything relating to that matter (I don’t know why people write about these, but please don’t send those in), as well as any explicit mental heath issues; I do not have depression or aniexty, or anything like that so if you request something that has these, I may or may not write it depending on what you request because I don’t want to get something wrong. If I do write it then I will do research on what it’s like having it so maybe I will, I don't know yet.
I will write insecure fics such as physical image insecurity fics because I do struggle with that, but I won’t dive deep into a certain mental health issue.
But yeah, so that’s all about me so have fun my blog!
12 notes · View notes
Please don’t leave me
Tom Holland x costar! reader
Summary: Tom breaks down after you film an emotional break up scene.
Warning: angst to fluff.
You happened to be so lucky to play the love interest of your boyfriends’ character. Being couple co-stars with Tom, meant getting to be intimate on set. You both loved it, even though it was hard letting go of each other at times.
Today’s scene wouldn’t be so intimate though. Tom’s character had recently cheated on your character, which meant it was time to film a heartbreak scene.
“AND ACTION!” The director yelled and you got into character.
You sit on the sofa, face in your hands. The tears you’ve been crying are all dried up, but it sure won’t be the last. The room in quiet and the air is cold, the only thing you can think about is the sight of your boyfriend with the other girl. He has apologised, but that won’t make it better. He cheated on you. He broke your heart.
You feel his lips meet your cheeks, once, twice, and three times. You feel the anger from before start to creep back again, and throw your hands up wiping him away. You rush out of your seat and go to stand in front of him instead. He stays seated in the sofa, his concerned eyes following your steps. When you finally meet his gaze, you feel fresh tears well up in your eyes.
“Why would you- You can’t just come here, kiss me, and think everything is okay!” Your raised voice startles the man in front of you, “Kissing me won’t make it better! It won’t make everything go away! It doesn’t work like that!”
He put his hands halfway up in defence, his eyes turning away from you, “Okay, okay, I’m sorry.” He’s visibly nervous, scared even.
The room turns silent for a moment, giving you both a second to breath. You let a shaky breath, wiping your sweaty hands on your shirt. You’re about to say something that will break your heart even more, if possible, “I think you should go.”
His head snap up at your words, brows knitted together, “What?” Not letting his eyes fall away from you, he gets up and slowly walks over to stand in front of you.
“I really think… you need to leave now.” Your voice is quit, shaking.
The man you so badly want to forgive looks at you nervously, hands reaching your shoulders, panic evident in his voice, “Wait, wait, wait.” You stay silent, only look into his eyes. “You said earlier, there’s nothing so big we can’t work through together. You said-”
You shake your head and push away his hands, “What the hell did I know?”
“Please. There’s gotta be a way we can work this out. I-I can’t-” He grab your hand, taking it into his palms, bringing it to his heart, “I can’t imagine my life without you darling. You know…”
His eyes start to water, body gently shivering. The sight of him hurting sting in your chest, making you want to hug him, but he hurt you first.
Damn Tom was good. Filming scenes like these felt partly uncomfortable because you acted so well together. It almost felt real. At times, you even got emotional in real life.
“No, no, I can’t. You’re a different person… When I look at you, all I can think of is you and that other girl…” You let out a sad laugh, making the curlyhead cringe, “I used to think of you as someone who would never hurt me, but now- I really think you should leave.” You say the last sentence thought a sob you didn’t know you held.
You felt so grateful you would never have to say those words to Tom personally. There was no wasy you would ever let the dork go.
You love the man in front of you, but he cheated on you. He doesn’t deserve your love.
His eyes are puffy, tears streaming down his cheeks. His voice cracks as he speaks, “Please, baby. This can’t be it. Please…” He drags a hand down his face while you wrap your arms around yourself for some comfort. No words are exchanged, only the sound of soft sniffles and held back sobs.
You look down at your feet, your shoulders starting to shake. He can’t take the sight and sound of your heartbroken sobs, causing him to mirror them. You can’t make yourself to look at him, only speak quietly, “This has to be it. I’m sorry, but… we’re over.”
Unbeknownst to you, the sight of your pained eyes and the sound of your sobs, break Tom’s heart a little by little. If he’d ever do something to make you feel like this in real life, he would beet himself up for years. He would never be able to forgive himself.
You start sobbing for real this time, clasping your hand over your mouth, your other hand clutching your stomach.
You slowly lift your eyes up to the man in front of you as part of the acting but are surprised to see his bloodshot eyes.
He’s breathing quickly, hands dragging along his hair. Tears won’t stop streaming down his cheeks. He shakes his head, his body starting to tremble. He completely breaks down in front of you, falling to his knees. He’s looking like a regretful, heartbroken mess. Even the sound he’s making, sounds like a real heartache.
Tom was supposed to say the last lines of the scene, but the performance he was giving, breaking down in front of you, would look so much better. Damn, he was good at improvising. His performance didn’t even look like acting anymore.
Which, started to concern you.
“AND CUT! GREAT WORK GUYS, THAT’S A WRAP FOR TODAY!” The director finally yelled, making you let out a sigh of relief. The worst scene you would have to film together was finally over.
You dried away your fake tears, did a little stretch, and turned to your boyfriend. You expected Tom to have a smile on his face, probably relieved the scene was over as well.
Though he was in the complete opposite mood. Just like his character, he was still on the floor. His face was hidden in his hands, but you knew he was crying. You could hear his sniffles, see his body shaking. So, you were right, he wasn’t acting anymore.
You rushed down to his side, taking him into your embrace. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” Tom started sobbing louder than before, his hand clutching onto your shirt. You had never seen him like this, and it worried you.
You took a quick look around you, your eyes meeting the director. He signalised for the cast and film crew to clear out, giving you and Tom some space. You gave the director a thankful nod before turning back to the heartbroken man in your arms.
Tom’s grip to you tightened, like he was scared to let you go. You stroke a hand on his back to comfort him, kissing the top of his head. What he said next shocked you; “Please don’t leave me, please… I-I can’t live without you.” You eyes widened, staring to realise the scene you just filmed had affected him more emotionally than normal.
“Tommy, please look at me.” You placed a gentle hand on his cheek, lifting his head to look at you. His eyes were bloodshot, filled with tears. You tired to dry them away the best you could as you spoke to him softly, “I will never leave you, okay? You have nothing to worry about. I will love you forever.”
Tom caught a sob in his throat, trying to compose himself. Your words made him calm down just a little. He let out a shivering breath while your eyes met. His lower lip was trembling, but he managed to get words out, “I’m sorry, I just… The scene, it made me think. The thought of losing you hurt so fucking much.”
“Don’t say sorry Tom.” You leaned forward and pressed your lips together in a deep kiss. The kiss lasted longer than usual, telling just how much you loved each other without words. It made Tom’s breath go back to normal, his tears finally stopping.
You were both panting as you let go, foreheads rested together. Tom brought his hand up and pulled some hair behind your ear, looking into your eyes with gratefulness, “I love you so much Y/n. Forever.”
“And I love you.” You smiled as you spoke, slowly leaning back from Tom. You took hold of his hand, helping him stand up, “Now, what do you say we get out of here and spend the day together.”
“And the night?” Tom winked at you; his adorable smile finally presents on his lips. You felt your cheeks heat up, knowing exactly what he was thinking, “Anything you’d like.” You kissed him once, twice and three times, before heading out of there, hand in hand.
Anyone know what series the break up scene is inspired from? ;)
383 notes · View notes
A Hiatus :/
after this next fic comes out, i’m going to go on a short hiatus because of things i have going on irl.
during this hiatus i would love to read some of your stories!
please send me some fic recs to read during my 3-4 week hiatus!
you can send them in my asks inbox, a private message, or tag me!
thank you ❤️
26 notes · View notes
A Car Ride -Tom Holland x Reader
(Not my gif)
Warnings: SMUT, unprotected sex, oral, language, more SMUT
Word Count: 762 (just a quick oneshot!)
Summary: You and Tom definitely had many good times in his new car, it was fun! You both loved it, so why not just steamy up those windows every chance you get
Tom’s hand wouldn’t stop moving its way up your thigh as he drove down the empty roads. The dirty thoughts had already filled your mind and boy oh boy did you want nothing more than to have him right now. You loosely played with your dress and slowly began to open your legs and you could feel Tom grip to your thigh as he felt you move them. His hand instinctively moved to your already wet panties and he almost wanted to hit the brakes.
You say quickly
“Baby pull over, I need you”
A cheeky grin spread to his lips and he quickly did as you instructed and quickly took the next exit pulling in to an empty parking lot and behind a big building. You were quick to move your hands to his belt and unzipping his trousers but Tom, while intensely turned on, still had to have a clear mind.
“Whoa whoa b-baby I gotta check if no one’s aroun-”
His words were caught off as you already began working your mouth around his growing hard member, you couldn’t help but somehow grin as you enjoyed the taste of him
“Oh my f—fuck y/n— your mouth feels so g-good”
Tom’s head dropped back and you began swirling your tongue around his throbbing head, sucking and releasing pressure and licking all over his member.
“Oh baby please don’t stop— f-fuck”
His hands moved and tangled into your hair, tugging it. In response you let out a moan that sent vibrations up his body. Tom reaction made you wet and you soon couldn’t wait to feel him inside you , you bobbed your head quicker and swiftly removed your lips from his now rock hard member causing a slightly wince to come from Tom as he missed your mouth.
“Now it’s your turn to feel good”
Tom said hungrily, he looked to you with lust and moved you over from the passenger seat and on to his lap with the steering wheel pushing you even closer to him. His hands rushed to pull your panties to the side and you waisted now time lowering your self on to him. Both of you groaned with pleasure as you began to ride him
“Oh fuck Tommy! You feel so good!”
“You like riding me huh baby?”
Tom’s hands moved all over and up your dress roughly and his placed on hand top your hip grabbing it and his other moved to your hair again, tugging it causing a moan to escape you
“Mmmm Tom— fuck”
You felt Tom throb inside you and the need for him to go harder was there, and you weren’t quiet about it
“Harder baby p-please! I need you to go-”
Your words got cut off by Tom thrusting harder into you and his finger tips dug into your hips
“Yeah you like that huh?”
Tom kissed you and bit down on your bottom lip, you moaned into him as you soon felt your self tighten around him, getting closer. Tom’s member twitched lightly and you knew he was getting close too
“I want you to cum Tom, I-I”
“Close already y/n?”
Tom teased and thrusted harder into you causing you to tug at his shirt to keep yourself steady
“Want me to fill you up baby?”
His dirty words were pushing you closer and closer. The car wobbled as your two bodies become closer and wreckless.
“I’m gunna fuck you till you cum baby”
And with that, his dirty crude words made your entire body tingle and you feel the wave of your orgasm shoot through you. Your wild moans filled the car and you rocked your hips as you tried making the sensation last longer. The feeling of you cumming around him was enough to push Tom over the edge
“F-Fuck y/n… I-I i’m cumming”
You could feel him twitch inside you and soon the warm feeling of his cum made you tingle and you moaned as you awaited for him to finish. Sweat covered both of your foreheads, more so Toms and when he had finished his orgasm you stopped rocking your hips and both of you tried to catch your breaths. As you tried to relax again you back had pushed on the steering wheel and a loud honk had shocked you and Tom. Tom instantly wrapped his arms around you and you let out a scream which was soon followed by a light giggle.
“Ouh I think I like it when you scream like that”
“Oh shh Holland”
182 notes · View notes
I super love your mini series of the Hollands Family (Tom, y/n, Luke and Claire). Can you make an imagine where Luke walk-in on them while doing the xxx and he was horrified ‘cause they are both being kinky. In the end, Tom and Y/n apologize to Luke and Luke be like: 👁👄👁 “Don’t. Do. It. Ever. Again.” And Tom be like: No promises.
Main Masterlist Personalized Fics Masterlist
Tom Holland Masterlist
A/n: This is the so-called 4th part of my mini-series of the Holland Family.
Read this Stories first:
Don't Tell Mom You Two Are Disgusting First Time Mess
Luke is still 19, and Claire is still 13. Also, I am not writing smut yet because I still have no idea how to write it 😂 am sorry for the ones who have requested smut in their personalized fics, I WILL WRITE THEM don't worry, am just figuring out how.
Warnings: Mentions of sex, walking in on sex, swearing.
WC: 726 (it's kinda short sorry)
You thought you and Tom had the whole night to yourselves, Claire had a sleepover at her friend Emma´s house, and Luke was at a party. Being a parent was the best thing that had ever happened to both. Still, that meant you had to be sneaky whenever you wanted to have a fun time. So tonight, you decided you were going to surprise your husband by wearing some lingerie. It felt like the old times when only the two of you were around, and you were free to do whatever you wanted.
Tom came home from walking Tessa and made his way to your shared bedroom. He opened the door to find you changing into your lingerie, and it was a sight. He sneaked around and got closer to you, whispering in your ear.
¨Watcha doing there, love?¨ His voice made you jump.
¨Tooommmm¨ You pled ¨Why cant I ever surprise you¨ you pout, turning around to face him.
¨You look ravashing¨ He kissed your neck, and you threw your head back in delight. You both started kissing each other, you pulled Tom's hair and caressed your cheeks. Soon, the kiss began to heat up, and in no time, both of your clothes were off.
Meanwhile, Luke pulled up in the driveway with a couple of his friends. Luke was at the age where he invited anyone and told you guys when they were already in the house. The four boys, including Luke, got out of the car and made their way inside the house.
¨Is anyone home, bro?¨ Mike asked
¨Nah, I think my parents, but Claire´s not here¨ He replied and opened the front door. ¨Okey stay here. I am just going to let my parents know you guys are here.¨ Luke told all of the boys staying in the kitchen while Luke headed to his parent's room. He opened the door, looking down at his phone.
¨Hey guys, My friends are here, could you possibly- WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK¨ He yelled when he finally looked up. He saw the last thing he wanted to see, ever. His mom was tied up, with her panties in her mouth. His dad thrusting up her, whispering dirty things. As soon as they heard Luke, you spit out your panties, and Tom pulled out of you immediately.
¨NO, NO, NO I HATE IT HERE, I HATE IT HERE¨ He kept denying it, turned around, and closed the door.
¨Oh my, If Luke wasn't already traumatized, he sure is now¨ You laughed, both putting your clothes back on.
¨Yeah, I agree¨ Tom said, kissing you before heading out the door.
Later at night, you and Tom were at the kitchen drinking wine and talking about your day. Luke came down to the kitchen to get some snacks. He refused to make eye contact, and you and Tom just laughed.
¨Its not funny!¨ He cried out
¨Is it ?¨ Tom laughed ¨Son get over it, one day when your married, and you have a wife that is good at everything she does¨ Tom smiled devilishly at you. ¨You´ll understand the needs that need to be fulfilled. ¨ Tom said, kissing your cheek as you drank from your glass and smirked.
¨Dont. say. that. ever. again¨ He was trying so hard not to cry in disgust.
¨Haha, fine, fine¨ Tom laughed, nodding his head. Luke was heading out when he stopped one last time.
¨Also, don't ever have sex again when I am home¨ Lukas scrunched his face, and both of you burst out laughing.
¨That is a no for me, Lukie¨ You laughed, taking another sip of wine.
¨Am going to agree with your mom Luke, not making that promise at all¨ He kisses you and Luke rolled his eyes.
¨I hate it here!¨
Request something !!! 👈
88 notes · View notes
I need Tom's part, i'm soft:( porfiiiiiiiiii
Next part is pretty chaotic but it’s mainly Tom 💕
3 notes · View notes
lockscreens pt 2
these are my favorite ones and this took me soooo long but it was worth it :))
as always feel free to use these however, just give credit where it’s due :))
50 notes · View notes
Too much love to handle | p.p
a/n: Hope you like this one, ily liz <3
pairing: Peter Parker x reader
warnings: smut ( fem receiving), edging, oversimulation
summary: Peter is edging you until you can't take it anymore, until you cry. You think that everything was perfect, just a little bit too much... But how will Peter react when he is seeing that he made you cry?
To be honest, it was all your fault.
When you wouldn't have flirted with flash on that stupid teenager party just a few hours ago then you wouldn't be in that situation that you are in right now.
Your boyfriend, Peter Parker, edging you to death.
You were so sure that you are gonna pass out soon but deep down you knew that you could take it when you really want to. "Fuck, p-Peter, I-I can't, please" you whimpered. "Just be quiet and let me destroy your pretty little pussy" Peter mumbled quietly before he went on with eating you out like you were his last meal. Flicking his tongue up and down on your sensitive little bud, shaking his head from side to side to make you go crazy. You entire body slowly started to tremble and you weren't sure if your gonna take it when he's going on like that.
"Please, Peter, p-please just s-stop" you begged him quietly while you felt how your eyes are getting wet. "Shh princess, just a few more, okay? I'm gonna keep doing this until I'm satisfied alright?" he told you while he slowly stroked your pussy lips with his fingers. You shook your head side to side. "I can't p-Peter, I-I really can't a-anymore" you answered quickly.
He ignored your comment and went on with torturing your pussy and especially your poor clit.
"No, stop!" you screamed but he went on until you felt your probably 50th orgasm ripping trough your weak and shaking body. Your eyes rolled back and you screamed like you've never screamed before.
But then your boyfriend, Peter, heard it.
The small sniffle.
He froze. It was like time stood still.
You were crying because of him.
And it destroyed him.
"Oh my God, y/n? Are you okay?" he asked before he looked up at your face and there he saw it...
The tears they were staining your face. And the fresh ones they were still runing down your face.
"I'm so sorry princess" he said before he picked you up and hugged your body tightly. You lazily shook your head before you answered,
"It's o-okay Pete" you whimpered quietly to your boyfriend. "No it's not, I made you cry" he responded. "It's fine okay?, I swear!" you answered with a tiny but cute laugh. A laugh that Peter could listen to for hours.
"I love you Mr. Parker" you told him before you pecked his cheek. He laughed before he spoke up,
"I love you too Mrs. Barnes" Peter answered with a smirk.
-`ღ´- ᶫᵒᵛᵉᵧₒᵤ -`ღ´-
@goodgirlgonetom @majo240820 @misshale21 @itstaskeen @pure-ghost @justafangirlduh @elizabeth-brown @roseke @onyourgoddamnleft @lovelyxtom @hallecarey1 @zspideyy @elizabeth228
201 notes · View notes
Train - Tom Holland (smut)
Requested by lovely @earlgreydream Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: Tom fucks the reader in an empty train compartment
Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex, oral (m), pwp, just filthy public sex
Pairing: Tom Holland x fem!reader (1.4k)
No longer could (y/n) sit still, legs trembling from constantly clenching her thighs together. She had been in a certain mood for days, hands aching to touch Tom’s skin, to trace the muscles she would kiss whenever she’d go down on him.
But as he had dragged her from one meeting to another, begging her to follow him around as he was pushing through the last interviews before summer, she was getting lost in her desires.
(Y/n) began to shift in her seat, eyes focused on the bypassing scenery, flickering to the other end of their train compartment. It was just the two of them, a horny girlfriend and her napping boyfriend. It this moment they weren’t superstar Tom Holland and his girlfriend (y/n), no, they were just a random couple, on their way to the small town they’d stay in for the next few weeks.
“You okay?” Without opening his eyes, Tom placed his hand on her thigh, squeezing her skin without knowing what his touch was doing to her. Sparks shot down her body, right to her pulsing clit, the sensitive bundle of nerves he could touch if he’d just move his hand a bit higher. (Y/n) mumbled a “mhm” clenching her jaw to stop her whiny groans from leaving her.
But Tom knew his girlfriend all too well. Of course he had noticed the longing glances she’d shoot him, how she would press her thighs together as he was sitting close, how she would dig her fingertips into his skin as he would wrap his arms around her. By now he was focused on teasing her, wondering how far he could take it till she would snap.
His thumb began to trace the fabric of her dress, slowly disappearing beneath it, feeling the rising goosebumps on her skin. Each movement of his fingers robbed drops of air her lungs were needing to keep on functioning, each squeeze of his hand pushed her closer to her breaking point.
“I know what you’re doing.” (Y/n) spoke with her jaw still clenched, keeping her eyes focused on the bypassing mountains. The small chuckle that clawed through Tom vibrated on her skin, his head rolled to the side, lips kissing her throat. As his skin met hers, (y/n) knew she was done for.
“And what exactly am I doing, darling?” His voice grew lower and his accent got thicker, very well knowing that she was losing her sanity - she was putty in his hands.
Tom’s fingers met her soaked through panties, for a second he traced her folds, the wet spot of arousal. But with the first moan leaving (y/n) he pushed the fabric aside, effortlessly dipping into her heat. Her head fell back against her headrest, hand clamping down on his wrist - making sure that he wouldn't pull away.
“Tom,” she whimpered his name, trying to stop her moans from becoming too loud, not wanting to attract any attention. (Y/n) had been waiting for this for way too long, endless days of staring at her man without touching him, endless days of torture that were finally over.
“Tell me what you need, love.” Tom began to rub her clit with his thumb, eyes wandering over her features, the eyes she had closed moments ago, the lips she was currently biting down on. A gorgeous woman he intended on marrying one day, a gorgeous woman he so desperately wanted to keep by his side for eternity.
“Want to touch you, can I touch you, please?” Her eyes met his, pupils dilated from the waves of pleasure that flooded through her, pupils that carried all her emotions deep inside of her. For a moment he double checked if it was truly just the two of them, before he nodded his head, letting go of his smirking girlfriend.
She crawled over his lap, slowly sinking to her knees, skin pressed against the rough carpet. Impatient hands unbuckled his trousers, eyes following his, staring at the sunglasses he had stolen from the Marvel set months ago. The tip of his cock was covered in precum, salty drops that made her mouth water, it had been way too long since she had choked on him.
Carefully (y/n) kissed the red head of his length, still holding eye contact as she began to take most of him, swirling her tongue around him. His hand tugged on her strands of hair, tickling the roots, coaxing a deep moan out of (y/n).
Both tried to keep quiet, drowning out most moans and groans, but whenever she would get ahead of herself - with her hand wrapped around him and her throat burning - Tom would keep her locked in place, making sure that nobody had heard them.
“Doing so well for me, darling. Fuck you look so pretty like that.” Tom loved to praise her, making sure that she was feeling comfortable and appreciated.
He would try to stop himself from tumbling into his orgasm, would try to drag out the moment when she would place herself on her knees for him. By now she could read his body well enough to know when to stop, desperate to feel his cum inside of her, stuffing her to the brim - rather than her having to swallow it all.
“Such a good girl for me, will you let me fuck you? Been waiting for me, haven’t you?” With glassy eyes she pulled his cock out of her mouth, smiling at her blushing boyfriend. He pulled her into his lap, hands placed on her waist to stabilize her trembling frame.
“Need to feel you, it’s been too long since you’ve touched me.” (Y/n) couldn’t stop her lips from forming a pout, staring at him as he was aligning himself with her entrance.
“I’m sorry, darling. I promise I’ll take care of you now.” The promise rolled off his tongue as he pushed himself into her, cock twitching inside her heat. Her walls needed a few moments to adjust to his size, feeling his veins through his thin skin, the skin that was still covered in her saliva, getting mixed up with her arousal.
She began to build a steady rhythm, sinking down on him as his hips met hers, jerking upwards. Tom kissed her breathless, swallowing her moans, allowing his tongue to explore her hot cheeks.
The possibility of somebody noticing the pair only urged them on, skin met skin, lips met lips, hands squeezed and teeth bit. It was a mess, but a mess both found comfort and protection in, all too familiar, like those nights where he had fucked her in an empty bathroom or in an elevator as they were disappearing from another event.
“Don’t know how I’ve managed to go this long without feeling your sweet cunt. So perfect for me.” Tom lost himself in his praises, eyes fluttering close as (y/n) rode him. Both could tell that their orgasms were close, just in time for them to calm down before they’d reach their destination.
Arousal dripped down her thighs, onto his jeans, leaving a wet spot. Tom could already see her riding his thigh later on that night, he wouldn’t let her sleep, wouldn’t allow her to rest as he would take her in every position possible.
“Can I cum? I’m so close.” She stammered against his lips, walls fluttering around his cock, moaning his name as he met her movements once again. How he wanted to freeze time, just to stay buried inside of her for a few more moments, but his own orgasm clashed upon him the moment the coil snapped inside of (y/n).
The pair moaned in unison, letting go with fluttering walls and a twitching cock, making sure that he was filling her to the brim. His warmth spread through her, dragging out the moment, allowing her to hold onto the heavenly feeling.
“I got you,” Tom pulled out of her, keeping (y/n) pressed to his chest as he redressed himself, eyes meeting hers every now and then. Both couldn’t stop smiling, already excited for their vacation, knowing that they wouldn’t catch any sleep.
Marvel Taglist: @jensenackles512 @princesspumpkiin @cuddle-stuff @mrs-salvawhore @thenightperson @jellybean-22 @writethelifeyouwant @band–psycho @23victoria @huntheimpossible @positionsfyou @missryerye @lowilaufeyson @gothicxbarbie@bluesclues-1234 @miraclesoflove @coldlilheart @pandaxnienke @cherieweasley @wittysunflower @your-hispanichufflepuff @angelusviate @savior-adriana @mbjackie @belladonnablackwood @abookishpineapple @doasyoudesireandlive @mbjackie @alleycat2496 @cricketscreations @moodymidnightkitten
Fallen Angels: @mgkbabygirl @shrekboobies @ivelveti @honiebee @itstaylorcale @mcira @megamieversole-blog @amelia-song-pond @bwbatta @damianoaf @missryerye @shrekaliciouz @supergrant
Add yourself to my taglist
196 notes · View notes