#Tom Holland fanfic

[shawnxstyles]

man-handled

DATE: DECEMBER 4, 2023

summary: you get a little caught up in your boyfriend’s muscly arms and can’t help but imagine what it would be like if he man-handled you.

request: i thought it was but i guess not??

words: 5.1k

warning: SMUT (f- receiving (multiple orgasms, oral, fingering, throat-fucking), m- receiving (oral), slight daddy/sir kink, degrading, name-calling, dirty talk), language, and probably the shittiest ending ever

note: i’m so tired y’all

mafia!tom x reader

–

You weren’t usually like this. You weren’t known for being so horny to the point where you can’t think straight. You were known to be quiet, shy, and even a little innocent. But sometimes Tom brought out the worst in you. But you learned to like that side of you. The secret, dark, and dirty side that only Tom could unveil from you. Watching you unfold and come undone–no pun intended–gave Tom a deep sense of growing pride.

Every day he made it more obvious that he was the only one and that there would never be anyone else for you.

What was causing you to act so strange was a new obsession for you. You had been with Tom intimately numerous times, but he never failed to pleasure you immensely. You two have explored each other’s bodies inside and out, yet your mind still found things to obsess over. Currently, it was his arms.

His arms.

They were usually covered with different brand-name suits, all varying from gray to black. The sleeves always wrapped around his biceps snuggly, hinting at only some of his bulkiness. Usually, the sight of him in his suits when he left for work had you thinking about how hot he looked overall. But as you watched him leave this morning, your eyes couldn’t stop fixating on the packed muscle you knew was hiding under the black suit’s sleeves.

You’re not sure, but you think this newest obsession started last night by complete accident. That accident being Tom’s overwhelming dominance and control when he was fucking you.

Although you were on the quieter and more innocent side, it amazed both Tom and you that you were secretly fucked in the head just like him. You hadn’t even known it until you stumbled upon Tom. Sometimes, you think that he molded you to indulge in his kinks and fantasies, but he’s never forced you to do anything. If anything, it’s always you shyly asking him to do something more when a dirty thought pops into your head. He always makes sure to degrade yet praise you in the most addicting and twisted way.

Last night, while you and Tom were simply watching a movie, things got heated (it was never just going to be a movie). Tom had gotten home early and just wanted to relax. But the makeout between you two got hotter and you both got needier. When you moved yourself to his lap, gently rocking into him, his strong hands forced you to stay still. You remembered the bruises present on his knuckles and wondered if they still hurt when he squeezed your hips. You whined into his mouth before he picked you up easily, throwing you over his shoulder as you squealed.

“Always so greedy.”

Tom has picked you up and threw you over his shoulder before. Maybe the other times he was gentler about it, afraid to hurt his little princess even if you were completely okay with it. But that night, he didn’t seem to give a fuck. He had a difficult day at work, the evidence clear on his wounded hands, so maybe he took some of that aggressive out on you. After he had brought you upstairs, you were extremely drenched as his bulky arms tossed you on the bed.

But after that, he apologized for being so rough. He explained how he had a tough day and he was sorry for taking it out on you. It resulted in long, sweet, loving sex that you adored all the time because you got to see the part of him that no one sees. Just like that secret part in you that only he sees. Except, you weren’t yearning for his softness after being man-handled. No, you were looking to be fucked. Hard. You wanted it rough, messy, degrading, and straight sinful. The nastiest scenes flooded your mind through the night, hoping that you could relive one of them with Tom. As he fucked slow into you last night, your eyes couldn’t remove themselves from his bulging arms holding himself over his head. You watched as the muscles would work and his veins would pop out when he did a push-up, and it had you clenching around him pathetically.

What were you going to tell him when he came home?

For the rest of the day, you wandered around the house needily. You cleaned, you read, you reorganized, but nothing distracted you enough from your fucked-up thoughts and the pulse between your legs. One part of you felt ashamed for hiding it from Tom, but the other half of you didn’t care. It felt like you had your own little secret that no one knew. But then again, you really wanted to tell him because you wanted to see the results. And feel them…

When it was late into the evening, seemingly later than when Tom usually returns, you sighed to yourself. You brought yourself to bed, too worn out from your own desires nagging you down all day. If only Tom didn’t have a rule about touching yourself while he was gone, you would have been able to handle your dirty situation all by yourself. But no, Tom had to be insanely controlling and sexy about everything, just making your situation even harder to deal with. Just as your bare feet slip into the comforter, you hear the hefty front door open. Your head shoots up, instantly on high alert of Tom’s arrival. Just when you thought your body was relaxing, the sound of his approaching footsteps seem to heighten your hormone levels, veering away from homeostasis once again.

Tom peeks his head through the ajar bedroom door, body hunching over the door handle. He doesn’t say a word until he realizes that you are in fact awake, opening the door wider. He skulks closer to you, his body bulky and stoic just how you remembered it being this morning when he left. His hands at his sides had those infamous cuts and bruises that you always wrapped with bandages. He never wanted you to, you demanded that you do. Your heart pounds as your tummy tickles, wishing he could read your mind and just handle you the way you want him to with those bruised knuckles.

“Missed you today, Princess,” his thick hand rose to caress the hair on your head. You feel yourself lean into his touch, yearning it always no matter how intense or soft. You always craved to just feel him.

“Missed you too, Daddy. So much,” your hand reaches up and encloses around his wrist, squeezing softly. His hand gently pulls away as he sits beside you on the bed, and you nearly whimper at the loss of contact.

“What d’you do today?” Tom asked simply and softly, genuinely curious about your day. But finally with him next to you, your mind has gotten all fuzzy, and you feel like you’ve forgotten every word you’ve known. Your eyes haven’t drifted away from his arm since he pulled away from you, mind encompasses in the way he moves.

“I cleaned. I reorganized the shelves in your office. Oh, and I read too…”

Tom tried to listen to your dull list of activities, but he couldn’t help but notice how distracted you seemed. Maybe you were tired from all the chore-like things you did. But your eyes weren’t blinking as they started at his chest, clearly hazy with something. Something familiar.

“Yeah? And what did you read?”

“Um… I don’t remember,” your head started to tilt to the side as you licked your lips, lost in whatever thought was clouding your mind currently. Tom’s mouth curved just the slightest bit up at the airheaded state of you, wondering if you could be anymore adorable. The fact that you didn’t remember what you read, knowing you love reading, is what stood out to Tom the most. Something was obviously off, Tom just couldn’t figure it out yet.

“How was work? Do you need me to patch you up?”

“Work was stressful. People don’t listen and then ask why m’so harsh. And idiots like to go behind m’back and take stuff from me,” Your eyes fall onto his wounded hands.

“S’not nice…”

“Not nice at all, huh?” Tom reaches up to caress your face ever-so gently, not wanting to touch you too much with his open cuts.

“Come on. Let me fix you up. Please?”

Now, how could Tom ever say no to you?

–

Sometimes, Tom could be stubborn. Like right now, where he refused to sit down while you tended to his wounds because he’s saying that it won’t take long enough to sit. You want to roll your eyes in annoyance, but you don’t want him to see your attitude and punish you later. Or maybe you do…

He had his suit jacket off now and just his crisp, white buttoned shirt rolled up to the elbows. The skin that was untouched was smooth under your delicate touch, but his scars and fresh cuts, which were most likely old ones reopened, were rugged. You dabbled light pressure as you wiped away dry blood with the wet cloth, not afraid of hurting him because he barely blinks when he punches someone. He surely wasn’t phased by his girl cleaning up his damages like a little puppy trying to lick themselves better. That’s exactly what your touch felt like—little puppy licks and gentle pawing.

And when you applied the cooling ointment, his pain was eased, but he doesn’t think it was from the cream. No, he is a firm believer that you are his medicine. Your words, your touch, your soul was healing. Although he was your opposite in every way and he hurt people for a living while you mended people’s aches with your mere presence, he could never hurt you. Never.

So, when you’re all finished wrapping his hands with that rough cloth that’s an excuse for a bandage (it was all he had stored), he’s shocked by your blunt statement. You were rarely blatant about anything, especially when it had to do with sexual situations.

“Why did you apologize to me last night?” You just threw your words at him, hoping he caught them. He didn’t know that when you were fixing him up you were ogling his arms like a child in a toy store during the Christmas season. His veins were green, constant exploitation of work causing them to pop out more. He looked delicious and it made you crave him more than ever. Even more with his ripped up hands. You wanted the roughness and pain and the power to be instilled on you. You wanted him to take his particularly hard day out on you. Tom blinked, silently leading you out of the bathroom and back into the bedroom. He tried to recall exactly when he apologized to you, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Clearly, work had gotten to his head too much.

“I don’t remember what you’re talkin’ ‘bout, darling,” Without a thought, he begins unbuttoning his shirt with his bandaged hands. He looked like something of a fancy man mixed with an underground boxer. Not the type of fancy that shows off his money, but the type that’s humble and real and works hard for what he wants. A man who made himself. And that’s exactly who Tom is; someone who built himself.

You swallowed, suddenly feeling like you’re under the spotlight. But you took a breath. “Last night, when we were having… sex… you apologized for being really rough.”

He flatly hums, indicating that you need to continue while he buttons his shirt. You could just faint from his sculpted, stony beauty that was hidden behind a few buttons and fabric. Unlike his knuckles, his skin was smooth and untouched besides his scattered tattoos. He had faint scars that you could barely see unless you were looking really hard (which in your case maybe you were). His build and figure used to intimidate you, but now, you’re just awed.

“Well… I kind of liked when you were rough…” Your words dragged out, especially as your head tilted down to face your lap in embarrassment. “You’ve never really been like that before and it caught me off guard, but in a really good way! I didn’t realize I wanted something like that until… yeah.” You weren’t embarrassed that you were attracted to your own boyfriend’s man-handling, but by the fact that you had to admit that to get what you wanted. Sometimes, you wish he could just read your mind, but life wasn’t a movie or a book, even if it felt like that from time to time with the life you live. Dating a mafia man was insane to visualize–those things only really happened in books. Or so you thought.

“You did?” You softly hummed, nodding your head. You could feel the heat radiating off of your cheeks, your heart thumping in your chest. You didn’t think Tom would reject you. That’s not why your heart was beating faster than its usual tempo. You were anticipated and your organ couldn’t help but be thrilled at what was to come. “You liked when I took my day out on you? Liked when I was a little mean?”

You crossed your ankles that had been hanging off the bed, biting your lip. You nodded, maybe a little too quickly, because you got slightly dizzy from the movement along with your amped hormones. You had that beat in your chest, but you also had that throbbing pulse in your lower body that has been aching since you watched him leave earlier that day. In the most Tom-way possible, he stalks over to you, torso bare while his trousers remain on. He’s slow and calculated, and it makes you even more anxious. When your eyes finally look up at him, he’s glaring down at you with blown-out pupils, a darkness swirling with the brown color of his irises.

He’s close to you now, inches away from touching you. But he doesn’t. You hear the clink of his belt loosening around his waist before it’s adoring his hand. His quick movements cause the leather to slap your bicep, making you gasp, but what he doesn’t do is apologize. You’re not sure if what he did was purposeful. Did he want to startle you and show you how rough he really could be? You never lingered too long on the idea of him using a belt on you, but if Tom was going to be man-handling you more often, then the thought would probably be more recurring. Tom shrugs off his pants as if they’re a bother, and by the large bulge outlined in his briefs, it seems as if they really are.

You hadn’t even realized you were licking your lips until Tom’s hand came up around your throat, thumb pulling it out. He tucks his thumb into your mouth, gripping it tightly.

“Drooling over m’cock and I’m not even fully undressed yet,” he removes his thumb before lightly tapping your cheek. “On your knees. Need to fill that filthy mouth.”

The devil on your shoulder wants to be a brat and not listen to him, but you’ve been craving this all day. If Tom knew what you wanted–which he did–his punishment to you would just be not giving it to you. And that’s not your ideal plan at the moment. So, you slide off the edge of the bed and onto the floor at his feet. The first thing he does is spread your thighs open with his ankle.

“You don’t get to squeeze y’pretty little thighs together while sucking me off. That’s rude, pet. Get as wet as you want, but if you close y’legs, you’re not comin’ tonight. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” Your hands were waiting anxiously by your sides, clawing at the skin on your thighs. Your pussy was already clenching around its own wetness, unable to close due to his new limit.

“It talks,” his tone was sinister and demeaning. The kind that would make someone’s eyes twitch and hands fist in an argument out of irritation. But his works were fueling some type of sick need inside of you that needed to be sedated, and this seemed to be the only way to do it. And you didn’t mind it one bit. You fucking loved it. “Who knew such a slut would be so obedient?”

You knew better than to respond to that rhetorical question. Instead, you patiently wait for his smirk to rise in cocky pride before he finally slips off his briefs. Like every time you’ve seen his cock, it’s pretty. You didn’t know they were supposed to look so yummy and dream-like. He was smooth with inklings of hair scattered down at the base and his tip was a cute coral color that grew an angry red when he was hard. From the looks of it, he was pretty hard. His tip was leaking that delicious pre-cum you were dying to taste, even if you’ve had it thousands of times before. Having to sit and stare at his glory without touching was some type of punishment, you think.

His hand latches onto the base and the other grips the back of your head. He pushes you closer, tapping your cheek with his tip. You suck in a breath, readying to take him.

“You know what to do if it’s too much. And it will be.”

Tom shoves his cock into mouth once you’re open wide enough. He doesn’t wait for you to adjust to his size or explore his prick like he usually does. This time he’s quick and harsh like he’s trying to beat some type of record. But he’s still just as calculated as he always is, and you know he’s not just going to come fast because he can. Most men do that all the time when they want to get off briskly, but Tom wasn’t like that. He liked to take his time and appreciate the moment, edging you both just a little to make it a little fun. He always edged himself more though, forcing orgasms out of you before you would even touch him.

Your cunt pulsates around nothing, trying to grasp the pleasure he is holding from you. Hands clawing at his meaty thighs until your nails break the skin barrier. Moans attempt to escape your mouth, but are instantly shoved right back down your throat from his thick cock. Tom drills into you with no mercy, causing saliva to cascade down your chin in long strings. The muscles in your jaw ache from their open stance, begging for a break that you would never get. If it was too much you could easily tap his thigh a few times and it would all be over, but that’s exactly what you don’t want. You love that he came home after a stressful day and you could make him feel better. You didn’t want your limitations to restrict his maximum abilities when you secretly wanted more to begin with.

“Look at you letting me fuck this throat. This whiny, little throat and your filthy mouth. Always so fuckin’ needy for it,” his grip on your hair intensified, stilling your head from any movements you might subconsciously make. You’re not surprised when the tears finally start to leak from your eyes, rolling down your face in wavering streams rather than small rivulets. “I’m so big I made you a crybaby. That good, sweetheart?”

There were no words that were able to leave your stuffed mouth, only rumbles of moans that vibrated around his cock so dirtily that his head was falling back. Deep, guttural groans emitted from his rough throat, his movements never faulting. Even when you feel the tip of him twitching in the back of your mouth, he doesn't stop.

“Take it. I’m going to come and you’re going to take it. All you wanted was to be a storage for my cum, right?” Tom’s words were cruel and degrading, but they were the exact thing that got you off. Your stomach churned in lust, feeling a bit neglected, yet pleasured by him fucking your mouth.

He was going all out tonight and you didn’t want anything less. Tom didn’t even give you a warning about when he was coming, he just wanted you to take it. And who were you to defy him? When ropes of his much-needed release fired from his prick, you made sure to swallow every drop. He slowly removes himself from your mouth as your jaw aches immensely. Saliva and cum were lathered around your chin, coating your lips with the taste of him. Your hand lifts up to massage your jaw as you look up at the flames of lust in Tom’s eyes. You notice that there’s slight hesitation; he wants to default back into a caring lover rather than a dominant one. But even with the soreness in your jaw, you manage a smirk to let him know that you’re fine. You’re more than fine, and you’re more than ready to continue the rest of the night. You know that it will be your turn soon too at some point, right? That throat-fuck was torture for your sopping cunt. You’re mind-dizzyingly horny.

“What’s the matter? Your lip is all trembling and wet,” You didn’t even notice him stuff his prick back into his pants because you were so mesmerized by the taste left on your tongue and the ache in your jaw. He leans down, nearly level with you on the floor, but still hovering over your head. “Just like your pussy I bet, hm?”

Your entire body shivered from his words as if a frozen wind cascaded through the bedroom, but at the same time, your skin has never burned so fiery. His hands were quick to fit under your arms, lifting you up to your feet. When your thighs met again, they squeezed tightly to rid the incessant throbbing between them. You knew you were just soaking wet too–the kind that reached all the way to your bum once Tom laid you flat on your back. The kind that would drip onto the bed sheets if you were positioned on all fours with your rear up in the air. Tom loved to do every which way with you, but he was keen on watching your scrunched-up face relax once you came. The way your nose would wrinkle and eyebrows furrow, mouth just wide enough to slip a finger or two through. Which, of course, Tom would take advantage of. But right now, he wanted to taste you.

It had been such a long day, full of busyness and rage-work. He didn’t mind having to punch a face or two daily, especially when they wronged him significantly because then he got to do more than just a punch. The only part he hated was seeing your face in the aftermath. When he’d come home, he would see you all delighted to see him back and well, just for your expression to drop in concern at his wounds. Whether it was his hands (it was usually his hands), arms, chest, or even his face, you were relentless about fixing him up. Tom’s resistance was nothing to you, so eventually, he would just sigh and let you aid him. You had something of a magic touch because only you could make Tom feel better. Nothing like the doctors he had occasionally visited as a child or even his mother’s kisses. And now, his knuckles may be bruised and may be bandaged, but that would never stop him from taking care of his girl. Especially when his girl got all shy about wanting to be man-handled. He thought you were the most adorable thing really.

Usually, Tom would gently lay you back on the comforter and make sure you had a pillow underneath your head. This time, he didn’t even hesitate to throw your willing body like a ragdoll on the bed. The gasp you let out was practically a moan. His invasive, manly hands shredded your bottoms down your legs without a care in the world. You’ve never seen him so aggressive with you, but God, if it wasn’t exactly what you wanted. You had been craving this type of fucking, and now that you have it, well, you might just pass out from how good it’s all going to feel.

“This slutty little pussy,” he growls, thumb circling your throbbing clit. He can feel the way it swells underneath his rough touches, and he can hear the way your breath gets caught in your throat. You were always so delicate to him, like you would break if he held you too hard. But while you were soft, you were also strong, which is why Tom was able to treat you like this and you wouldn’t shatter like thin glass. “So weepy and wet. Who knew you were such a cock whore, hm? Or is it just for me?”

“You. Only you.”

Tom knew it was only for him. And of course, you knew it was only for him. No one has ever gotten you as wet as Tom has, and no one has pleasured you nearly as much. He strived to satisfy you until you begged him to stop, which no one had ever come close to doing. Every past partner you’ve been with always had to use lubricants because they couldn’t make you wet enough. You were always ashamed and embarrassed, but then you realized that’s how they should feel. Their performances are minuscule and rubbish; compared to Tom’s, they don’t stand a chance. But you didn’t bother with those past “lovers” anymore, because you had your one and only right in front of you. Or more like right in between your legs with his head on your thigh.

“Right. I’m feeling a bit hungry. You’ll let me eat, won’t you?” He widens your legs, forcing them to spread so you can’t suffocate him with your thighs. Lewd whines spill from your mouth as his breath hits your pussy, warm and close. “Oh, wait, I’m making the decisions.”

His lips lock onto your clit, sucking on the nub. You don’t conceal the moans that instantaneously begin to slip out of you like a mantra. He changes his rhythm, going firm and fast, and then slow and calculated. It was addicting, and it left you clawing at the bed sheets and curling your toes. His tongue swirls through your folds, collecting your juices and prodding inside of you.

No man has eaten you like Tom has. When they did it, they did it as if it was a chore. Tom does it as if it’s a reward.

He cherishes you, honors your body with his hands and mouth while also showing you who’s in control. It’s these things that make you utterly obsessed with him, thinking about him for twenty-four hours even when you see him at the start and end of every day. You were obsessed with the way his tongue was licking into you, desperate to consume every drop of your wetness until you were drained. His thumb returned to its home on your clit, pressing and holding as it throbbed beneath his finger. Your head spun as if you were drunk on a carousel, but it wasn’t nausea you were feeling. No, it was the ecstasy of pleasure building up inside of you as you approached your high.

“S-so close. Fuck—”

A slap to your inner thigh caused you to squeak into the heated air. Tom never cared when you cussed before, but the fact that he did now was another little turn-on that just got added to the list. Seriously, what was wrong with you?

His mouth popped off of you, thumb never letting up on your clit. He cleanly slides his middle finger through your slick folds, easily curling it inside of you. Even with his wounded and wrapped hands, his thrusts are flawless and perfectly paced. The sandy texture of the bandage occasionally itches your inner thigh, adding a delicious stimulation to your skin. As he pumps his digits inside of you, you are aware of the muscles in his arms flexing, which makes you clutch tightly around him.

“Oh, what’s got you so tight?” You groan at his words, not responding clearly. “Don’t be a brat.

“Your a-arms,” You can’t help but moan as he curls his fingers inside of you again.

“Yeah?” he hovers his body over you now, one arm supporting his bulky weight right beside your head. It was exactly like how you had remembered it and you didn’t even have to tell him. His bicep was next to your head, pulsing and working to keep him up right. You could feel and hear him grin and grunt every time you squeeze tightly around his fingers. “You’re the filthiest fuckin’ girl I’ve ever seen. The way you’re taking my fingers I just know you’re wishing it’s m’cock.”

Your skin was on fire. Your hair was a mess. Your head was going to evaporate into a cloud of lust. And your body was an oozing waterfall. That’s the only way to describe how you felt.

His transitions are natural and effortless as if he could do it with his eyes closed because he’s mapped your body out so well. But no matter how many times you’re with him, you’re still withering beneath him, shaking until your orgasm washes over you like a tsunami. He tilts his head, licking his lips before whispering in your ear deeply.

“Since you’ve been crying for it all day, come. Go ahead. Soak my fingers. Soak the fuckin’ sheets.”

You topple over your orgasm into a pool of pleasure, indeed soaking his hand and the sheets beneath you. As your body becomes hypersensitive, you wiggle away from his touch, only for him to hold you in place. He snatches your hips, stills them roughly with a press of his bandaged hands.

“I’m not done here, sweetheart. For this one, I want you to be as quiet as possible. Can you do that? Or are you inclined to let the neighborhood know who is making y’come this many times?”

Tom was incessant about making you come a magnitude of ways that night, all with specific rules. One with no touching, one with no moving, one with no moaning. It was a rollercoaster of crying and orgasms. To say you were exhausted was an understatement, but you’ve never felt more refreshed and satisfied.

You were so tired that when Tom left to begin your aftercare, you had passed out on the messy bed sheets.

—

i rushed the ending so much, but i felt bad that i’ve posted in so long and i’m just so busy that i never have time to write anymore

taglist:

@motheroffae @noa217 @nelly-belly97 @spidermanffh3000 @rugbeat3000 @mysticdaisy21 @emilyparkerholland @mrstealuregirl @bisexual-desi @sherlockstrangewolf @madsttx @graywrites20 @bradtomlovesya @princesspannnn @sageisswaggg @purplerose291 @girlbossnancy @lockwood-lover @theslayerofthevampires @breaxthing @eatshitanddiee @lnmp89 @crybabyddl @pretty-npeach @marine-mayday @aerangi @justanotherpasserby-blog @tinafuentes @moniffazictress11 @eywaheardyou @alwaysclassyeagle @raajali3

crossed out= not able to tag

[waitimcomingtoo]

Meatballs! At the Unspecified Celebratory Event

Pairing: Tom Holland x ex!reader

Synopsis: you and Tom see each other at a family event for the first time since your breakup

Masterlist

“Thanks so much for having me. It’s good to see you again.”

“Of course. You know you’re always welcome. Now go grab some meatballs. I made them myself.” Sam said and squeezed your arm. You smiled in return before going over to the food table.

You put a few meatballs into your plate and mingled in the crowd with friends of the family that you hadn’t seen in a while. You heard someone being greeted by several people as they came in and looked up out of curiosity. Thats when you and Tom made eye contact. You quickly looked away and turned your body while you prayed that he hadn’t seen you. He had, of course, and was immediately making his way over to you.

“Hey.” Tom said when he finally got to you.

“Your mom told me to come.” You said at the same time. You then both apologized at the same time for cutting the other off.

“Oh. Sorry. You first.” Tom said and gestured to you.

“Sorry. Your mom told me to come.” You quickly explained. “I told her it would be too weird now that we’re broken up and everything but she insisted. Plus, I wanted to support Sam.”

“It’s okay. I’m really glad you’re here. I’m happy to see you.” Tom said sincerely. You smiled awkwardly and looked around the crowd to avoid eye contact. Tom looked around the crowd as well and briefly wondered that the purpose of the gathering was. The awkward silence went on for so long that it became palpable and you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Look, Tom, I really never would’ve shown up like this if I knew you were gonna be here. I’d hate to make things awkward. But Harry told me it was safe to come. I thought you were filming in LA?” You asked and felt yourself cringing over how much you were over explaining your presence.

“I am. I have the weekend off so I came to support Sam.” Tom answered and felt disappointed now that he knew you hadn’t come just to see him.

“Oh. That’s nice. I love LA. It’s so…hot.” You faked another smile and looked away. Tom felt the conversation falling flat but was desperate to keep talking to you.

“So, uh, you still keep in touch with mum?” He asked you.

“Yeah, yeah. Not that much, though. She checks in on me and I do the same.”

“That’s nice. And I’m guessing you still talk to Harry since he told you I was filming?” He asked and looked over at Harry who had conveniently never mentioned that he was still in contact with you.

“Oh, yeah. Him too.” You laughed nervously. “We were good friends so, yeah. He and I still talk.”

“And you came to support Sam. Who must’ve sent you an invite. To your new place. Since you moved out.” Tom realized with a tight smile.

“He actually didn’t send it to my new place. He gave me an invite the last time I was over his place, so…” You trailed off when you realized your attempt to make him feel better was probably just making things worse.

“Which was…” Tom asked.

“Oh, a couple weeks ago. He had me and Paddy over to try some new recipe. It wasn’t anything serious.” You explained and tried to make it sound as uneventful as possible.

“I see. So you’re still talking to the whole family. Everyone but me.” He said with a tight smile. You could see the sadness in his eyes now that he had learned this information and wished you hadn’t said anything.

“Yeah. Sorry. It felt wrong to just cut ties completely. It’s not like I broke up with them.” You laughed awkwardly.

“Right. Just me.” He returned the laugh and sounded just as awkward. An uncomfortable silence fell between you for a long time now that you had run out of things to say. You made brief eye contact with him and quickly looked away as you scanned the party for something to talk about.

“I haven’t talked to your dad since the breakup, if that helps.” You said finally.

“It helps a little.” Tom shrugged.

“Oh, good, it does?”

“Not really.” He admitted. “Nothing does.”

“Yeah. Me either.” You shrugged and took a long sip of your drink. Tom’s eyebrows went up in surprise to hear that you were struggling just as much.

“Really?” He asked quietly. You looked into his eyes and debated telling him just how much you missed him. You ultimately decided against it since it wasn’t the time or place to have that conversation.

“The food was really good, wasn’t it? I loved the meatballs.” You asked to change the subject. You had no idea how to make small talk with someone you used to have a life with.

“Yeah. So good. Sam’s great.” Tom nodded in agreement even though he hadn’t tried any food yet.

“So great.” You echoed. You both hated the faking niceties with each other but you had no idea how else to interact now that you were broken up. Thankfully, Harry walked up to the two of you with a plate of food and relieved some of the tension.

“Hey.” He said to you before realizing Tom was there too. “Oh. Sorry. I didn’t realize you guys were talking. Should I leave?”

“No!” You and Tom said in unison. Harry leaving meant you’d have to scramble to find more things to say so you were desperate to keep him there. Harry gave you both a strange look over how enthusiastically you said no before taking a bite of one of his meatballs.

“It’s fine. What did you need?” You asked him.

“That guy I told you about is here. He wants to meet you.” Harry said and pointed over his shoulder. Tom followed his finger and saw a 6 foot tall blonde guy covered in those little minimalistic tattoos. The very tattoos you once told Tom you loved on other people.

“Oh, great.” You smiled and waved to the guy. Tom looked between you and the guy several times and felt jealousy bubble up inside him.

“Who’s that guy?” He asked through a forced laugh so he didn’t sound as worried as he felt.

“That’s Garrett. He’s one of my photographs buddies.” Harry explained.

“I’ll go say hi.” You told Harry before going over to the guy. Tom watched you hug him hello and clenched his jaw.

“Woah, mate. Whats going on with you? If you stare any harder, that vein in your neck is gonna explode.” Harry said to him.

“Who is that guy?” Tom whispered harshly.

“I told you. He’s a friend from film school. I hooked him up with Y/n.”

“Hooked up?” Tom almost shouted. “What do you mean hooked up?”

“Oh my God. Down boy.” Harry snorted. “I mean I hooked them up to work on a project together. She wants him to shoot something for her.”

“If she needs pictures then why can’t you do it?”

“Because shes like my sister so I don’t want to see her in her underwear.” Harry said like it was obvious. Tom’s stomach dropped and he looked back over at you and Garrett. You were laughing at something he had said and Tom’s jealousy doubled.

“Underwear? What are you talking about?” Tom asked.

“I don’t know. She wants to do some album art in this vintage lingerie she found and he specializes in the style she was going for. I wasn’t really listening when she was explaining because I was too focused on the meatballs.” Harry shrugged and took another bite of his food. Tom snatched Harry plate and put it down on the nearest table.

“Stop eating the meatballs for one second. Are you telling me you asked that guy to take pictures of her in her underwear?” Tom whispered angrily.

“Yes, Tom. I approached my friend and asked him to take photos of my brothers ex girlfriend in her underwear specifically for my own enjoyment.” Harry said sarcastically. Tom gave him an annoyed look so Harry stopped being sarcastic.

“No. She needed a photographer, he needed a job, so I hooked them up. Thats the end of the very simple and very boring story of why Y/n is talking to that guy.”

“Stop saying hooked them up. You’re making it sound like they’re gonna date. Does he even know about me?” Tom asked as he stared daggers over at you and Garrett.

“He’s seen Spies in Disguise.” Harry shrugged.

“Oh my God.” Tom groaned. “I don’t mean my films. Does he know I’m her boyfriend?”

“You mean ex boyfriend?” Harry said out of the corner of his mouth. Tom gave him a look and Harry quickly shoved another meatball into his mouth.

“Fine. Ex. Does he know we used to date?”

“Relax, mate. I’m your brother. I’m not gonna throw your girl into the arms of another man. We’re all rooting for you guys to get back together.”

“Okay, good.” Tom sighed in relief.

“But sometimes, in order to realize who your soulmate is, you have to sleep with a beefy photographer who has tattoos straight off a Pinterest board.”

“WHAT?” Tom shouted this time, causing a few people to look over at them.

“Oh my God. It was a joke.” Harry groaned. “Chill out. How are you still this uptight when there are delicious meatballs around?”

“Enough with the meatballs.” Tom hissed. “You don’t really think she’s gonna sleep with him, do you?”

“Hm. Probably not.” Harry shrugged as he looked over at you and Garrett.

“Good.” Tom sighed.

“But my boy is a dawg so he’s definitely gonna try.” Harry snorted and ate another meatball. Tom looked at him with an unamused expression and Harry stopped chewing.

“Sorry.” He mumbled. “Wrong crowd.”

“It doesn’t matter if he tries. She’d never go for a guy like that. He’s all wrong for her. Right?” Tom asked nervously.

“Mate, don’t do this here. We’re here to support Sam. This is not the time or place to fight for your girls honor.” Harry pointed out. Tom reluctantly nodded in agreement and turned to watch you again. Garrett had his hand on your shoulder now as he told you some story.

“Nope. I can’t watch this. I need to talk to her.” Tom decided and crossed the room to get to you. You and Garrett were laughing at something so Tom started laughing too until you noticed he was there.

“Oh, Garrett, this is Tom.” You said to bring Tom into the conversation.

“Hey, man. I loved you in Spies in Disguise.” Garrett said as he shook his hands. Tom felt slightly annoyed that he couldn’t hate this guy since he was nice.

“Thanks.” Tom said quietly. An awkward silence fell between the three of you and all laughter ceased.

“It’s a great movie. Underrated as hell.” You added after an awkward beat of silence.

“Thank you, darling.” Tom said sincerely. “So what were you guys talking about?”

“We were talking about maybe working together for a shoot.” Garrett answered.

“Right. Harry was telling me about it. I wanted to tell you that you can come over and grab some of your sets if you need them for the shoot. You left a lot at my place.” Tom said to you. You narrowed your eyes at him but couldn’t help but smile. You knew exactly what he was doing and he knew it too. He smiled innocently at you before checking for Garrett’s reaction.

“His place? Why would your stuff be there?” Garett wondered.

“Of course it’s at my place. Where else would she be wearing lingerie?” Tom asked with a simple shrug. You turned your face so he wouldn’t see you laughing at what he said.

“Wait, so, how do you guys know each other?” Garrett asked you.

“Oh, I’m sorry. She must not have mentioned. I know her from being her boyfriend.” Tom said and put an arm around you.

“Ex boyfriend.” You smiled sarcastically and pushed his arm off.

“Semantics.” Tom shrugged.

“Ex?” Garett raised his eyebrows. “Wow. Thats great news. I didn’t think a girl as pretty as you was available.”

“Oh, I’m not.” You laughed awkwardly.

“You’re not?” Garett frowned.

“You’re not?” Tom smiled in surprise.

“I mean, I am, but not for you two. Excuse me.” You smiled at them both and quickly exited the conversation. Tom and Garrett looked at each other with a new sense of competition between them.

“Spies in Disguise wasn’t even that good.” Garett mumbled out of the corner of his mouth.

“Tell that to my Kids Choice Award.” Tom snapped.

“I will.” Garrett said mockingly. They exchanged sharp looks with one another before Tom walked away. He searched the room for you but couldn’t find you for a while. He asked around to see if anyone had seen you but had no luck. He sighed and went outside the restaurant to get some air. Coincidentally, you had the same idea. You were leaning against the wall of the restaurant with a drink in your hand and staring out into the night.

“Hey.” Tom said as he approached you.

“Jesus Christ.” You jumped.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. But I have been looking for you. Do you think we could talk?”

“About what?” You played dumb and took a long sip of your drink. Tom kicked some gravel on the ground and kept his eyes down.

“Us.”

“Is it really a good time? My blood is like 70% red sauce right now.” You groaned and patted your full stomach.

“When else? You don’t return any of my calls.” Tom said without looking in your eyes. You could hear how upset he was over that you felt bad for ignoring him for so long.

“Because we broke up. People who break up aren’t supposed to talk.” You said gently.

“But we weren’t supposed to break up.“ he insisted and looked up at you.

“How can you say that when you’re the one who broke up with me?”

“It was a mistake. I just blurted that out during the fight. I was frustrated from the terrible day I had so I took it out on you. I never meant to say I wanted to break up.”

“But you did.“ You reminded him. “I don’t care how frustrated you were. I never would’ve said that to you.”

“I know.” He sighed. “And believe me, I’ve wished I could take it back from the second it left my lips.”

“Then why’d you say it?” You asked quietly.

“I don’t know.” He answered honestly. “It just fell out of my mouth.”

“Because you don’t have any lips to stop it?” You asked with a coy smile. Tom looked at you in surprise and could tell you felt proud of that one.

“That kinda sounded like you forgiving me.” He smiled cheekily.

“Maybe I’m just trying to get back into a family that can produce meatballs like this.” You shrugged and avoided eye contact. You could feel Tom staring at you so you kept your eyes out on the London skyline.

“Why’d you come tonight?” He asked after a beat of silence.

“I told you. Your mom invited me. And I wanted to support Sam.”

“Support Sam doing what, though?” Tom genuinely wondered. “What is party even for? Sam just told me I had to come. I don’t even know what we’re celebrating.”

“I honestly don’t know either.” You admitted. “Your mom just told me Sam was having a party and making meatballs. I’ve been trying to figure out if it was a birthday or graduation from the decorations but they’re too vague. I’m just avoiding Sam so he doesn’t figure out that I don’t know what this event is for.”

“Maybe it’s just a meatball party.” Tom shrugged.

“Maybe.” You laughed softly and finally looked at him. When you looked into his eyes, you couldn’t bring yourself to be mad at him anymore. Whatever had started the fight was long gone from your memory. You didn’t care anymore. You just wanted to get back to how you used to be.

“I knew you were gonna be here today.” You confessed. “That’s why I showed up.”

“Really?” Tom asked and took a step closer to you.

“Really. I just didn’t want to have this conversation over the phone. That’s why I haven’t been answering your calls.”

“And what conversation might that be?” Tom asked and got even closer.

“The ‘I really miss you even though you’re a massive dingus who doesn’t deserve me’ conversation.” You said with a sheepish smile. Tom smiled in return and moved some hair off your face.

“I am a massive dingus.” He agreed. “And I don’t deserve you.”

“I already established that.”

“But what was that? Did I catch you saying you miss me?” He asked playfully and cupped his ear. You rolled your eyes and stepped into his arms to hug him.

“Of course I do. All the photographers I’ve been sleeping with made me miss what we had.” You said against his chest.

“I’ve missed you too, darling.” He sighed happily. “Wait, what that now?”

“I’m kidding. Kind of. Can we make up now?” You asked and pulled out of the hug just enough to look at him. Instead of replying, he leaned down to kiss you for the first time in weeks. It felt like you were picking right back up where you left off as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“That was a joke right?” He laughed once you pulled out of the kiss. Your eyes darted to the side as you pulled out of the embrace.

“We should go inside.”You changed the subject. “I just have to get some more of those meatballs.”

Tag list 🏷️

@thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling

@tom-hollands-wifey

@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings

@imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101

@peterparkoure

@justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr

@emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland

@sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @eridanuswave​ ​

@solarxmoonchild @canyouevencauseicant

@quaksonhehe @lovelessdagger

@thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie

@maybemona

@alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom

@pandaxnienke

 @officialsimppage @peterbenjiparker @itsemohours

@freakofmusic25 @tomholland85

@olixerwxxd @leilanixx

@whereismytelephone @so-very-asleep @white-wolf1940

@spideyspeaches @hihiweezing

@mathletemadison  

@dhtomholland @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @prancerrparkerr

@hallecarey1 @blackwidowisthebest @imawhoreforu

@ciarahollands

@nellabellaa @pinklxmonade @boogywoogywoogy

[xoluvx]

threesome; tomdaya x fem!reader

smut word count: 2.5k a draft that took a mind of its own...pls enjoy

"Do you know the walls of this cabin are paper-thin? Because we could hear everything last night," Zendaya sneered taking a sip from her coffee while looking directly at you.

"Oh my god, seriously?" you asked feeling your face grow warm recalling the events of last night. It wasn't like you and Tom weren't discreet about your sex life. You had sex. Lots of it. But it hadn't crossed your mind that maybe other people didn't want to know those details of your life. At least not when they didn't have a choice in the matter.

"What was he doing to you? Geez," she scoffed playfully looking out at the lake as the two of you enjoyed the morning sun on the patio. "You were not holding back, huh?" she teased again, chuckling a little this time.

"Well, if you must know. Tom-" you started saying, but she cut you off holding up her hand. She didn't want to hear more.

"I was just joking. I don't actually want you to tell me," she scrunched her face making a disgusted look. She had a vivid imagination and an idea of what had happened in that room. She wasn't going to tell you that though.

"Oh please, don't act like you haven't thought about it before," it's like you read her mind. You looked right at her waiting to see her reaction.

Her eyes bulged and she held on to her coffee mug tighter. "Thought about what?" she asked furrowing her brows.

"Tom," you smirked crossing your legs after noticing her reaction. You leaned back on the chair as you closed your eyes feeling the breeze on your face.

Zendaya shook her head dismissing your comment.

"Come on. Tom is an attractive guy. I get it. I understand if you have thoughts about him," you raised a brow now cocking your head looking at her and waiting to see if she'd say something. But there was silence and that was telling enough.

-

"Babe, what do you think of Zendaya?" you asked throwing the decorative pillows off the bed and to the love seat in the room. You were ready to get in bed, but you were curious to know what Tom had to say about the conversation you'd had with Zendaya earlier.

"She's a good mate," he said nonchalantly, not thinking twice of your question. He continued rummaging through the drawer in the dresser you were sharing. He was looking for socks.

"She's a good mate? Tell me more," a hint of playfulness in your voice as you tossed a pillow at him before pulling the covers back and getting into bed.

Tom turned to look at you with shock. A hand went to the spot where the pillow hit him. "What was that for?" He asked dumbfounded closing the drawers, the pair of socks in his hand.

"I mean, do you think she's attractive?" you asked raising a brow waiting for his response.

"Well, yes. You'd have to be blind not to think that," he said bluntly and you laughed because he wasn't wrong. This is what you loved about him. He was so adorably cute and honest and you knew you could have this conversation with him - no awkwardness.

"Where's this coming from, love?" he asked joining you in bed. You were under the sheets as he laid on top of them resting his weight on his side as he saw you turn to look at the ceiling.

"She heard us last night. She asked what we were doing," you laughed recalling the conversation.

"So?"

"It just made me think..." your voice trailed off.

"About?" he pried placing a hand on your belly which urged you to look at him.

"Threesome," the word unfamiliar on your tongue, but oh so tempting.

"With Z?" he asked wanting clarification. Surely you couldn't have come to this conclusion from just a girls' talk with Zendaya. Who need not forget was probably one of the most proper and least into threesomes people he'd come to know. Or so he thought.

"I told her how you do that thing-" you started saying and Tom cut you off standing up from the bed and scrunching his face.

"Darling, it's bad enough she heard us. You had to go into detail?" he asked shutting his eyes. His face flushed.

"She acted like she didn't want to know, but trust me she wanted to know. I could see it in her face," you said pushing the sheets off you so you could sit on your knees as you watched Tom stand at the foot of the bed, hands on his hips.

"Here's the best part, she didn't deny thinking about it." You looked up at Tom sweetly as if you weren't just admitting one of his (and your) best friends had thought about having sex with him.

"So what do you want me to do with this information?" he asked now tilting his head.

"Nothing just wanted to let you know." You smirked and Tom shook his head chuckling a little before walking to you. He placed his hands on your face pulling you so your lips could touch. He kissed you tenderly as you placed your hands on his arms. Your heads tilted in opposite directions as your lips molded.

-

"We have a proposition," you exclaimed sitting in the same spot you'd sat with her yesterday. This time, it was later in the afternoon and there was something fruity in your cup. Your finger traced the rim of the glass as you looked at her.

Zendaya raised a brow taking a sit of her drink. "Yes?" she asked tilting her head.

"Would you care to join us...tonight?" you questioned, slouching back in your chair comfortably and nonchalantly. Like you weren't just asking your bestie to have a night of passion with both you and your man.

Zendaya gulped, but didn't respond. She looked out at the lake pondering your offer. She was curious. Of course she was curious. Especially after she, again, unintentionally heard you and Tom.

"I'll think about it," she finally replied looking at you. The sun reflecting off her eyes gloriously; you nodded in response.

-

There was a soft knock at your door, you turned to look at Tom who shrugged his shoulders but carefully sat up in bed. He was shirtless and only wearing his boxers. The covers hid half his body in this new position. You slipped the covers off your body and walked to the door.

You knew who it was. There was no doubt in your mind, but you were surprised when you opened the door. It almost went swinging when Zendaya stepped into the room, her hands on your face, lips tenderly on yours. There was softness to her that Tom came very close to. Her lips pressed firmly on yours until you started to move your lips in sync backing up a little so you could close the door until she was pressed to it. Your bodies flushed against one another.

Tom cleared his throat and the two of you pulled away to see him watching.

"Sorry, I had to do that. Confidence boost, if we're going to do this." She glanced between you and Tom. Your gaze went to Tom who tapped the bed. "Come here," he said and you held Zendaya's hand as you approached the bed.

She sat down on your side of the bed, feet planted on the ground.

"We are all okay with this?" Tom asked and you both nodded. Zendaya's back still to Tom, she was looking at you. "Okay," he whispered and he inched closer to Zendaya.

You wedged yourself between her legs and her hands tentatively brushed up your thighs. Her chest was rising and falling quickly as her fingers traced the curve of your ass. You brought your hands down to her face bringing her lips to yours. This time, the kiss was slow and sensual. Lips moving with purpose.

Zendaya felt Tom's lips on her shoulder and shuddered at the new point of contact. His lips peppered kisses along her shoulder and up her neck. She moaned into your mouth and you happily swallowed it, tongues now mingling.

Tom's fingers pulled at her hair gently tilting her head to the side, his tongue running along the side of her neck. You pulled away from kissing her to straddle her. This gave you access to same area Tom was focusing on. You kissed her collarbone before slowly moving up to where Tom's mouth was.

Your tongues met as you licked up her neck. The two of you getting lost in a kiss, your hands held on to her lower back and Tom's hands held on to your ass pressing you closer to Z. She was sandwiched between the two of you. You came back from the kiss when you felt her squirm, her hands on Tom's urging you to move your hips. You did so gladly grinding on her thighs.

You went back to kissing Zendaya as Tom lowered the straps of her nightgown revealing her perky breasts. He cupped them as you continued moving your hips on hers, lips still locked. He palmed her breasts, thumb and index finger gently pinching her nipples eliciting a string of moans from Zendaya who was now matching your movements.

"You have too much clothes on," she whispered against your lips and you gave her one more kiss before getting off her. You pulled down your shorts and matching shirt revealing your naked body. You pushed back Zendaya pulling the rest of her dress down her legs, Tom sitting next to her body, hand running up her tight torso. You were almost drooling at the scene and before you could join again you looked at Tom.

"Take it off," you demanded and he quickly got off the bed to remove the only article of clothing he was wearing. The three of you now completely naked and fully anticipating what came next.

Zendaya was still laying down on the bed, Tom grabbed her arms raising them above her head. She looked up at him, her harden nipples calling your name. You hovered over her taking one in your mouth. You sucked gently before rotating your tongue on her nipple. Tom watched carefully, your ass on full display as you leaned over her. He reached out to give you a firm spank and your groan reverberated off Zendaya's nipple causing her to let out her own groan.

Your lips trailed down her torso until you were right above her pussy. She was dying of anticipation. Yeah, she wanted to know what Tom could do, but she was more curious about you. She always had and now you were between her thighs and she swore she could cum from just that sight.

"Fuck..." Zendaya hummed as your tongue made contact with her sensitive pussy. She was throbbing for you, the sensation only rising as Tom playing with her nipples, his tongue rotating about each bud. Your tongue was focusing on her clit now. Rotating before flicking. You sucked gently before licking. You repeated the same movements over and over holding her thighs open as you felt her shake. She was close you could feel it. You felt it when you dipped your tongue in her pussy; she was tighter each time.

When you finally slipped a finger in, she couldn't control the string of moans. She was vocal and you loved that. Her arms were still raised above her head and her hips were rising too. Tom held her down firmly, hand spreading over her stomach, mouth still attached to her nipple.

"I think she's ready for you," you chocked getting up from the spot you were in, Zendaya looked down at you confused. Your lips were glistening and Tom nodded. He reached from the drawer pulling out a condom.

You switched with him laying next to her now. Your lips brushed hers sloppily and she moaned as she tasted herself on your tongue. You pressed your lips a little more firmly on hers and she groaned as you palmed her breast. You palmed it harder and she squirmed when you pinched her nipple.

Tom ran his hand up her thigh. You turned to watch him, cheek pressed on Zendaya's. She had her eyes closed, head tilted back at his touch. He leaned over to kiss you hungrily and you fisted his hair intensifying the kiss before nodding at him. You turned to Zendaya holding her jaw, forcing her to look at him.

Tom lifted her thighs before slowly bringing himself down. His member glided between her folds feeling how wet she was. You'd done that, you'd prepared her so well.

Zendaya gulped looking at Tom's dick as he pulled away, he held it in his hand and you watched carefully too. He brought it down to her pussy again, this time slipping into her. Zendaya almost screamed as she felt her pussy stretch around him. She'd never imagine he was this gifted and now she could understand why you'd been so loud. He moved painfully slow, his eyes on you the whole time. Zendaya had closed her eyes again; the feeling of Tom's dick sliding into her was too intense. Especially considering the previous events aka your tongue on her pussy. She was already wound tightly and she didn't know how long she'd last.

Tom started speeding his movements. He slid into her more easily and his thrusts became rougher. Eventually her legs were above his shoulders and he was hitting her sweet spot at a new angle. An angle that was causing her breasts to move quickly and her moans to grow louder. You kissed her through it all, letting her moans vibrate in your mouth. She held your hand now, another gripping the sheets.

She couldn't keep track of how long this had been going on for, but she was surprised she'd held on for so long. She was seeing stars and at any moment she would be ready to snap.

"I'm gonna cum," she moaned arching her back, you went up to kiss Tom for a brief moment wondering if he was going to cum too. He nodded his head and you came back to her.

"You can cum baby," you whispered and the sound of your voice alone was enough. She unraveled, body shaking profusely as Tom slowed his hips. He hadn't reached his climax yet. He wanted to unload in you and you knew that.

You climbed over Zendaya, your breasts pressed together, ass in the air for Tom. He removed the condom and slid into your pussy. He groaned as a hand came down on your ass and you backed into him feeling him fill you up.

"Oh fuck," you moaned and Zendaya grabbed your face locking lips. Tom fucked you quickly, ass bouncing every time your bodies made contact. Your body pressed against Zendaya as she wrapped her arms around your shoulders pulling you closer, kissing you sloppier. Your hand reached down between her legs, she was soaked and she shivered when you ran a finger between her folds.

It wasn't long before you were reaching your own high, Tom following close behind. His movements, again, growing slower. You felt his warm release; your body relaxed under his, falling on Z.

The sounds of your breathing filled the room as the three of you came down from your highs.

"That was..." Tom started.

"incredible," you finished.

"So worth it," Zendaya added.

[jahayla-parker]

ooooh, what about tom holland x reader where she's a huge fangirl for harry styles? maybe a smau?

British Civil War : Tom Holland x Reader (ft. Harry Styles)

Description: Smau, Y/n is a major fan of British singer Harry Styles, and it shows on her Instagram. However, her British actor boyfriend Tom Holland is ready to defend his position. Fluff

Warnings: flirting, playfulness, light teasing, shirtless Harry Styles and Tom Holland

liked by tomholland2013, hazosterfield, zendaya, and 6, 362, 916 others

yourusername: My tombstone shall read that I died tonight, from breathing the same air as @/harrystyles #loveontour #screaming

P.S. Dear Harry Styles, I adore you. 💕

view all 654,789 comments

hazosterfield: At least u died doing what you love 😜

yourusername: ooop 💀

tomholland2013: 🤨

nikkihollandphotography: looks like you had wonderful seats dear!

yourusername: @/yourbffusername and I definitely won’t be able to see him again from any other distance and be satisfied after tonight 🙌

tomholland2013: What’s this “again” about? 🧐

hollandfanatic17: not Tom fighting for his life here lmao

bananahanna24: please post your fit! Gotta see how you dressed up for tonight’s show!

yourusername: Don’t worry, my story is going to be spammed with more photos from tonight soon! 🤩

tomholland2013: glad u had a great night love xxx

yourusername: ty babe, I adore you almost as much as I adore Harry Styles 😘

tomholland2013: almost?!

liked by holland_maggie, yoursername, kristaholland4evr, and 1, 536, 975 others

british_boyfriends: I just read an article that said that @/yourusername’s celebrity crush is/was @/harrystyles and it got me thinking… they look pretty similar, no? #british #tomholland #harrystyles

view all 24,381 comments

yourusername: 😌 he is so pretty

british_boyfriends: screaming! You responded!!!

british_boyfriends: wait which boy? 👀

tomholland2013: not sure how I feel about this…

yourusername: ily 🥰

harryholland64: lmao this is great

yourusername: right? 😆

tomholland2013: 🙄

hollandfanatic17: omg the comments!!!!

liked by stylernikki, yourusername, harryswife1, and 8, 247, 916 others

harrystyles: Thank you for another incredible night! I’ve truly got the best fans!

view all 854,247 comments

styles1D: killed it again! 💚💛💜♥️💙

yourusername: omg he posted a photo of me 😍

harrystyles: @/yourusername lmao, ty for coming lovely, hope you had a good time

bananasforharry: omg dckkoufddjk he responded to @/yourusername

hazosterfield: I now understand why @/tomholland2013 is rolling his eyes while @/yourusername is grinning like a fool 🤣

hollandfan213: I’m dying, the way the Holland fandom has taken over this comment section is insane 😅

gina_2013_h: i keep waiting for @/tomholland2013 to comment about it lmao

liked by harryholland64, yoursername, hazosterfield, and 9, 744, 182 others

tomholland2013: Are puppies enough to bring you back to me? @/yourusername 🥺

view all 875,721 comments

hazosterfield: mate stoppp bahaha

nikkihollandphotography: Isn’t she home with you right now?

yourusername: yes 🙄 lol he’s just being dramatic

tomholland2013: @/yourusername am not

yourusername: I’m literally sitting next to you Holland 🤦‍♀️

tomholland2013: you know that’s not what I mean 💔

yourusername: oh shush, you know I love you 💕

tomholland2013: as much as Harry Styles?

tomholland2013: love? Why are you sneaking out of the room? 🧐

hollandfanatic17: ahhh I loved this interview!!!

harryholland64: bruv, he doesn’t even know who she is chill

yourusername: He posted a photo of him and I on his insta thank you very much �� 😝

tomholland2013: irrelevant

liked by harryholland64, yourbffusername, zendaya, and 7, 619, 568 others

yourusername: It’s only been a couple of days, and I miss you 🎶

view all 885,302 comments

tomholland2013: I just wanna make you happier, baby

yourusername: quoting Harry Styles? 😍 ilysm

tomholland2013: @/yourusername anything for you darling, xxx

hazosterfield: ya caved mate 🤣

yln_holland_8: She went to another one of his shows?! Poor Tom is legit having to share her time with Harry now lmao

harryholland64: omg he so saw you girl 😱

yourusername: ikr?! And he clearly wanted a hug 🥹

harryholland64: I…. I can’t tell if you’re joining in on the sarcasm or not and that kinda scares me lol

hollandfanatic17: Can’t wait for @/tomholland2013 to petition for Spider-Man to fight Eros in the next Marvel movie now haha

liked by harryholland64, yourusername, hollandstyles22, and 362, 853 others

handsome.styles: Harry Styles x Spider-Man 🕸️ for the rest of LoT, I will be posting various fun Harry themed videos on my YouTube channel Handsome Styles. Today's video is Harry Styles showing off his on stage Catching Skills

view all 54,371 comments

harryholland64: @/yourusername

yourusername: 👀😍

tomholland2013: Really @/harryholland64?! 😠

holland4life: Girl do you even know what you just did with that AI photo? 🤣

handsome.styles: I didn’t tbh and was v confused when it blew up so much haha. But I’ve been caught up to speed now, ooops 😇

hollandfanatic17: which Spider-Man do we all think that @/yourusername would choose in a universe where they both exist?

styleswifey_: not you kicking up drama in the Holland fandom haha

hazosterfield: lmao y’all won’t let him catch a break huh?

liked by harryholland64, yourusername, hazosterfield, and 9, 764, 223 others

tomholland2013: training as I’ve found myself in the fight of my life

view all 754,931 comments

hazosterfield: this ought to help you catch up mate 💪

yourusername: holy sh- 🥵 T! 😍

tomholland2013: @/yourusername See something you like, darling? 😏

yourusername:@/tomholland2013 I… I’ve got no words

tuwaine: I think this means you won bruv @/tomholland2013, Harry’s never left her speechless 🏆

yourusername: is that what this post’s about? 🤦‍♀️

yourusername: If this is what comes of me fangirling for Harry Styles, I’m never going to stop cause 🥵🤤

tuwaine: eww I’m leaving this convo now 🫣

tomholland2013: I think this backfired….

holland_t_wife: hot damn 😱

zendaya: not you trying to compete with Harry Styles’s shirtless performances 🤣

liked by tomholland2013, tuwaine, zendaya, and 8,335,964 others

yourusername: Love on Tour with my love ❤️ @/tomholland2013

view all 534,789 comments

tomholland2013: ❤️

hazosterfield: Trying to indoctrinate him I see 😂

yourusername: He just needs to see the amazingness for himself 🤷‍♀️

zendaya: Is this like the 5th show you’ve attended for this tour? I love the dedication girl haha

yourusername: it might be 😇

tomholland2013: At least the 5th..

tuwaine: can’t believe you got him to go with you

hazosterfield: nah, he’d go anywhere with her

yourusername: @/hazosterfield 🥰

harryholland64: Haz is right, i can’t believe it took this long for him to go with her to make sure she stays his

tomholland2013: @/harryholland64 watch the implications mate, I trust her

yourusername: @/tomholland2013 💜

tuwaine: yeah @/harryholland64, it’s @/harrystyles he doesn’t trust 🤣

nikkihollandphotography: Hope you two had fun! ❤️

tomholland2013: I confess, I get it now 👏

yourusername: yay! @/tomholland2013 🥳😍

liked by tomholland2013, yoursername, holland_tom_13, and 764, 983 others

styles_holland: apologies for the grainy photo, I wasn’t expecting to see @/yourusername and @/tomholland2013 tonight at LoT 🤩

(also I somehow missed capturing the photo of them kissing while Harry was performing 😭)

view all 54,193 comments

hollandfanatic17: It might be ‘Harry’s House’, but @/yourusername seems fixated on a different British man 😌

yourusername: 🤷‍♀️🥰

th_marvelicious: ahhhh the way they’re right next to the stage but she’s only looking at Tom 😭

tstanleyh13: Get you someone who chooses you over Harry Styles like y/n did with Tom 👏👏👏

yourusername: forever my choice, everyday, always ☺️

thomaspidey: does this mean she’s done obsessing over @/harrystyles?

yourusername: No 😎

tomholland2013: lmao no, it just means I’ll be participating in the obsession

justafan13: Tom supporting y/n’s fangirling over Harry Styles was not on my bingo card but here we are 😂

hazosterfield: looks like it was Tom’s house tonight 💪

Taglist: @theslayerofthevampires @galaxyholland @bigbirdstwins @mcushvft @fishingirl12 @raajali3 @justapurrcat @natswifeysblog15 @directioner5life @ell0ra-br3kk3r @laylasbunbunny

Tom Holland Masterlist

Peter Parker / Spider-Man Masterlist

All My Works / My Main Masterlist Navigation

[bonesandchalamet]

perfect - t.holland

masterlist

requested: y- “Could you do reader and Tom or Harry with newborn !!”

pairings: dad!tom holland x mom!reader

warnings: fluff + child has been given a name

a/n: I hope I did this justice 🫡 I’m not very good with writing newborns!

you can’t figure out what you’re more obsessed with: her rolls, feet, or the fact that she looks exactly like Tom.

you haven’t been able to move from the crib. you should be asleep, but your eyes are glued to the crib where your newborn daughter, Emma, lays asleep.

you know Tom will come in any second. he’ll be concerned why you’re not in bed or pumping. he’ll ask if something’s wrong with Emma or with you. he’ll ask a series of questions you’ve heard on record since you came home from the hospital, but you don’t mind them. he’s concerned for his two loved ones.

“everything alright?” there it is. you sigh, taking a look at him for a brief second before looking back at her. she hasn’t moved, yet every rise and fall of her chest makes your heart swell.

“I just can’t decide which part I love more of her.” you carefully tap your finger against the wooden edge of the crib.

Tom exhales quite happily, it’s nothing serious to be worried about. he carefully steps into the room, his hand rests against your lower back, “why don’t you go sleep? we can worry about what we love most once we’ve rested.”

you shake your head. there’s tears welling your eyes, you know this is just hormones— or maybe you’re just so in love you can’t move from her crib.

“I just want to stay here forever.”

“we’ll have plenty of time to stay in here forever. we need some sleep.” he assures you, his palm running over your dirty hair. you can’t remember the last time you’d showered coming to think of it.

“you’re right, I’m being ridiculous.” you nod along with him finally moving from the crib. the emotions had dried allowing the exhaustion to finally settle in your body. Tom promises to take the first shift after napping and you don’t argue, just settle into the mattress.

“and you’re not ridiculous. however, I think her rolls are quite adorable.”

—

three hours.

you’d been asleep for three hours and didn’t even hear a single noise from emma or Tom. you assumed he would need your help at some point, but having not heard anything from either of them. you could trust he had it all under control.

you slowly rise out of bed and exit the bedroom, you see Tom in your living room rocking chair. he’s got a bottle in one hand, and her cradled in his other arm. she looks quite cozy and content with him.

“you’re awake.” he looks up from her with a frown. his plans were to let you sleep as long as you needed, but he knew you couldn’t leave her alone for too long without checking on her. the silence was always scary to hear.

“I know.”

“she’s been sleeping this whole time. you can go back to bed if you’d like?” he recommends rather than offering. you know the suggestion is what you should take, but you can’t get yourself to move from where you’re standing. your eyes glued to her once again.

“it’s everything. that’s what I love about her.” you say finally taking your eyes off of your sleeping newborn to look Tom in the eyes.

he nods in agreement looking back down at her in his arms, “she’s perfect.”

[youandtom2]

Request if you want it: Tom is playing at a golf event and reader is a journalist there. She absolutely can't stand him, because she finds out he is quite arrogant and full of himself. They go after each other throughout the whole day with sarcastic remarks. But somehow (you can fill in the details) Tom seduces her by the end and he gets her on her knees and he totally dominates her, making her choke and gag. And he embarrasses her by making her feel his muscles and beg to suck him off and he boasts about how easily he got her in the palm of his hand. :P

(14/07/22) brain go brrrrrrrrrrr THIS REQUEST!!!!

a/n (28/06/23): This was a request that was sent in and one that I had started last year that I really wanted to finish. Apologies to the anon who sent this in and waited for it whoops. This was supposed to be short but I clearly don't fucking know what short means so here's like 7k or something???

Anyway here's 'A Word for the Youth Diary?' Shitty title I know but I literally can't think of anything else.

MASTERLIST

"The weather is absolutely gorgeous here at St. Andrews' Castle Course, celebrating the first 'Pro Amateur' charity competition where a host of celebrities, socialites or anyone with a keen passion for golf can compete. A number of spectators have gathered around the course, eager to soak up the buzzing atmosphere, the scenic landscape and the presence of Hollywood stars, all in the views of the warm Scottish sun. Now that's something I never expected to say!"

The red light of your recorder dims as you press pause on your commentary. You made the switch to recorder a few years back when journalism became too close to drowning in a number of scribbled, illegible notes written far too quickly. Now it is a simple case of pressing record and pressing pause.

Of course, wherever there is a flock of celebrities congregating in the one area for the week, there will always be flock of paparazzi and journalists close by, each with the same agenda. It usually feels like mission impossible to get a word in with a celebrity or document anything of note or interest when there's a wall of other journalists blocking your way, but today those things won't be a problem. Because you’re not going after who may probably be the most coveted celebrity here. Tom Holland.

You don't quite don't know where it stemmed from; your strong dislike towards Tom Holland. In all honesty, your hatred towards him is very self-inflicted, but there's something about his ego that paints him in a very arrogant light. He knows he's hot shit with the press, he knows everyone fancies the man, he knows that his many talents has sky-rocketed him up the societal ladder and onto the throne of the rich and wealthy. What makes him double as frustrating than he is arrogant is that he hasn't done anything wrong. He's Hollywood's golden boy; ever the humble, handsome, kind, charity-giving actor that has claimed the hearts of many across the world. It's what makes your hatred towards him completely unjustified, so while no one shares the same view as you, there is some things you can do to quietly preach your opinions.

"First to arrive at the course is the notable Tom Holland, waving to the crowd with a smile, loving the attention as ever. Although I'm not sure that his mismatching colour-blocking golfing attire will receive the same compliments!"

The smirk on your lips lasts for the majority of the day as you talk incessantly into your recorder. Your goal isn't necessarily to shit on Tom, only when the opportunity presents itself of course, like when he swung the golf club at an awkward angle, sending the ball straight over the forest and into the sand bunker.

"Oooh, what a poor shot from Tom Holland. He'll be disappointed with that one. Perhaps leaning towards the 'amateur' side of the competition in comparison to some other competitors. Tom Holland yet again teaching us a valuable lesson in life; just because you're a pro at one thing doesn't mean you're a pro at everything else."

The crowd politely applauded and off he went with his caddie. While others followed, you choose to stay rooted while you wait for Mark Wahlberg to walk up to the tee. He's who you've been waiting for all afternoon. Getting a word in with him would set you up for the highlight of your career.

"Mark! Over here! Mr. Wahlberg! A word for the Youth Diary? Mr. Wahlberg!"

As it seems, Mark calmly maneuvers way past the wall of journalists, paying them, and you, no mind and strolls over to the starting point. Damn. You have to get a word with him somehow.

"Mark Wahlberg takes a mighty swing and thrashes the golf ball high into the air, and the crowd watches in astonishment as it sails its way over towards the green, a hair's breadth away from perfection as it rolls upon the hill. A round of applause circles around Mark as he proudly walks on with the confidence of a man who's set on winning this competition."

As the hours tick by, you find yourself without any luck. Those first few minutes of the competition were stuck in a loop, constantly experiencing deja vu of having to witness Tom Holland's unlucky shot followed by being ignored by Mark Wahlberg. You haven't had one decent interaction with anyone yet. Things are getting a little desperate.

You even begin to understand why the majority of journalists are following Tom Holland like a lost flock of sheep; he's very chatty. He stops at every turn to give his narration on his own playing, offers a brief insight to the projects he is currently working on, and if he likes you, even spill some of the secrets of his private life. It's a journalist's dream, one that you haven't even had the taste of yet since Mark Wahlberg is as accessible as the vaults of the Bank of England. Anyone with common sense would advise you to follow the crowd and ignore your bias towards him and just interview Tom Holland if it means you have something worth printing.

Oh no, no, no, no, no, no. Not a chance. He gets enough attention as it is.

"Mr Wahlberg! A word on your new film? Could you tell us about Uncharted! Mark! Over here!"

Not even a glance is spared your way in yet another attempt to get his attention. From your left, a voice emerges. A fellow reporter sidles himself next to you, away from the crowd that follows Tom Holland. You spot the Sky Sports label wrapped around his microphone.

"He doesn't like to speak much to the press. Thinks that he'll say something and they'll twist his words," he sympathies. It's genuine, obvious that he too has been caught up in the same frustration you've been facing all afternoon. At least he has a little more insight as to why you haven't gotten a word from Mark.

"Yeah, I figured. It wouldn't hurt just to say hello and have a small chat. What could the press twist about that? If anything, I think he's damaging his reputation by not saying anything. It's rude, y'know?"

He nods his head in agreement, but the sigh he blows doesn't seem to match. "You have to let it go though. They're not obliged to tell us anything. This is just a day out for them, they're not getting paid so why should they have to say anything about their work? It's just our luck whether they choose to talk to us."

"Ugh, I guess you're right, but I still need something for my article."

"Sky Sports has had lots from Tom. Why don't you try your luck with him? He seems to be a lot chattier than Mark. I don't know much about film journalism, only sports, so I don't know what it is you're looking for. But if you ask him anything, I'm sure he's willing to provide."

You look to him with contempt in your eyes, your lack of smile instantly shuts down his suggestion.

"I appreciate the suggestion but no. He's too easy. Think of how many journalists are here desperate to get a word in about sports, golf, acting, celebrity personal lives, all that show biz. If everyone shared the one source, audiences wouldn't bother reading them all because they all be the same, boring stuff. Think about it. If you, and 30 other journalists had the chance to interview Ronaldo, you would all take it because after all its Ronaldo. The only downside would be that you would then have 30 articles all saying the same thing and audience getting bored after reading 1. Now think about having the chance to interview Messi. It would be hard but total payout if you got it. Plus, you would stand out from the rest and that's what would gain audiences' attention."

Once again, the reporter sighs. "Look, kid. I've been in this job for 20 years and I've learned that sometimes you just have to cut your losses. If your objective is to get something to write about for your article, then you should do it however and whatever way you can, doesn't matter who the source is. If your objective is to get something from Mark Wahlberg specifically? Then you should scrap the whole article and try again. Something is better than nothing."

"I refuse to take anything from Tom Holland."

"Suit yourself. Good luck. Oh, by the way, I think you're still recording. Wouldn't want you to get your chance with Mark only to realise you have no storage left on your recorder."

You mumble a weak thanks and remember to press the pause button on your recorder. The reporter saunters away back towards the crowd, your only indication of knowing where Tom Holland is. You consider it for a second, but determination drives you away, following Mark to the next hole.

~~~~

It's all to play for in the final hole with only two possible candidates capable of winning the trophy. Currently sitting in the lead is the elusive, mysterious Mark Wahlberg, strolling casually along to the final hole with his team behind him. Ah, and of course, next in line is Tom Holland soaking up the attention as he strings along behind Mark Wahlberg like an apprentice would their mentor. It's not clear whether the confidence he walks with is a poorly executed imitation of his acting mentor ahead of him, or whether it is a man deluded with besting him. All will be revealed within the hour.

It's well into the evening of the Pro Amateur competition and the luck that reporter wished you earlier has yet to find you. With the final hole well underway, you're starting to think that it never will. So far, you've gotten a few short, curt answers from other celebrities here but nothing near the sustenance your article needs. If only Mark could stop being so stubborn.

"One at a time please guys, one at a time." Tom's smug, arrogant tone of voice emerges from behind you and not too soon after, tens of other voices asking him questions. As he makes his way nearer, so do the swarm of people and in an attempt to get out of the way, you're stampeded by the press. Bumped, shoved and pushed, you struggle to find your balance and fall precariously on your knees with your equipment tumbling from your bag. In all honesty it didn't hurt, but what an inconvenience picking up all your bits and bobs. Ugh it's all his fault.

Before you do anything irrational and say something you shouldn't, you pack up your stuff and walk away.

The competition concludes with a twist that no one was expecting. With a gust of wind getting the better of Mark Wahlberg, it earned him a double bogey and cost him the trophy, annoyingly snatched up by Tom who achieved victory with a birdie. You seethe at the sight of Tom holding up the golden trophy, soaking up the champagne that his teammates spray all over him and hearing the applause from everyone, even you as a slow, lethargic clap rings from your hands. All to just to keep up the pretence of 'liking him' of course. Ugh, why did he have to win?

After a day of being the lone ranger in a journalists mission, you concede to following the crowd into the conference room where many like you await behind a wall of microphones and a valley of cables to hear from today's competitors. And Mark Wahlberg is one of them. This might be your chance to get a question in. Quick! Where's your recorder?

Fuck. It's not in your bag. Where is it? You rummage through your bag again and it's definitely not there. Fuck, fuck, fuck! Where could it be? Did you lose it when you fell over? Has it been stolen? Fuck, you really need that!

You have no other option but to record from your phone and in your quiet, subdued panic, you try your best to catch anything he has to say. The quality isn't great and it's picking up outside noise to the point that articulation has no place on your recording. Sweating at the loss of some expensive equipment and valuable content, your phone drops and the clatter of it paints a mountain on its waveform, rendering the recording useless. Fuck, if you hadn't lost your recorder.

People start to look at you in your fluster and your legs starts bobbing erratically. The attention is too much and it's exactly why you prefer to stay behind the microphone and not in front of it. You have to leave. At the next possible opportunity, you end your recording and begin to make your way through the aisle, apologising profusely to the other journalists who wait for Tom Holland to make an appearance.

You just about make the double doors of the conference room when you hear Tom's voice welcoming the room.

"Before I start, I wanted to check to see if this was anyone's recorder..."

Everything about you stops dead in its tracks; your feet, your heart, your breathing, your entire existence. Nervously, you spin around to spot Tom Holland holding your recorder in his hands, fingers fluttering around its buttons. How the hell did he get his thieving hands on it?!

A pit opens up in your stomach at the dreaded thought of having to announce yourself in front of everyone to claim it. But damn, you really need your recorder back.

Braving the nightmare, your hand raises half-heartedly into the air. "Uh...it's mine. Sorry, I must've dropped it."

Tom's deep brown eyes lock onto yours from the stage and he throws, what you think, a sickly smile before he offers up the most ridiculous idea. "I can set to record if you want. I can sit it riiiiight here." He sits it directly in front of him and sends you a sly wink. It's a spot any journalist would dream of having their microphone; right under their nose on the off-chance that anything muttered under their breaths or whispered discreetly would be picked up. Journalists are a sucker for secrets. Quite frankly, you don't care for his secrets, you don't care for his thoughts on today's events, and you really don't care for what he has to say at all.

But the only reason why you end up saying yes is because you care more about what people would think of you if you gave up an opportunity like that.

"Sure. Thanks."

You proceed to endure 15 minutes of Tom glorifying himself in front of the press. God, it's embarrassing. You could plainly hear the snide tone underneath the guise of 'self-evaluation'. Everyone seems to soak it up like a sponge, praising him for his insightful words and self awareness, writing nothing but positive words about the actor. Whatever. You wish you could drown him out but your paranoia is rooted to your recorder at his table, thinking the worst outcome as his fingers toying with its external case. What if he doesn't know how to work it and accidentally erases all you had from today? One slip up and it's gone. Your eyes constantly flicker from your recorder to him and no matter who he's speaking to or where he's looking, he always manages to catch your gaze.

Already outside your comfort zone, you audibly whimper when you see him lightly tap the little trash button at the end of the recorder, miles away from the stop, pause and play buttons that you would regularly use. You would only ever press that button with intention, it’s pretty to hard to press it accidentally. Even without knowing how to work the recorder, it doesn't take an idiot to know what that means, so watching Tom play with it tells you that he is whole-heartedly toying with you, enjoying the view of you panicking from his throne of sadism.

It's like he can sense your hatred towards him.

~~~~

"Thank you, thank you! Until next year!" Tom smiles as he walks off stage, your recorder in his clutch. The further he walks away, the faster you bob and weave through the crowd, feeling like you're fighting against the tide as it sweeps you out. Then, just as the room empties you reach the entrance to the backstage area in a relief, only to hit a brick wall that stands in your way between you and your highly coveted recorder.

"No press allowed backstage." A security guard towers over you.

"Tom Holland has my recorder. I'd like to get it back." You have no time for polite small chat, your request grumbling with agitation.

"Still can't allow you back--"

"You can let her through, Jim. It's alright." A young boy’s voice echoes from behind the wall.

The guard hesitantly lets you through, keeping you under his iron gaze while you slip through the narrow space he gives you. You are led out into a hallway with plaques decorating the hall, awards from winners of tournaments the venue has previously hosted, the newest addition being Tom's 'Pro-Amateur' plaque much to your distaste.

The boy you recognise as Tom's caddie leads you down this hallway, he hasn't said so much as a word to you as he confidently walks ahead. Now he's getting his assistant to fetch you? God, the arrogance!

"He's in here."

"Thanks," you quietly mutter. The door closes behind you, locking both you and the actor into the room. When you started the day bright and early this morning, you didn't think this was where you were going to end up. You couldn't have put money on it.

Although, you have to admit: despite putting your heart and soul into avoiding Tom Holland the entire day, this could be an exclusive for your article. Nobody else has had this opportunity, so why not take advantage of it?

Tom smiles as he greets you, carelessly tossing your recorder from hand to hand. You swallow nervously. "You are...?"

You respond with your name, who you report for, and make it abundantly clear that you would like to take back your recorder in one piece.

He approaches with a small, boyish chuckle like you just told a joke. "Sorry, I was just thinking," he casually says, "about how you once said you refuse to take anything from me."

What? Where did he hear...? Fuck. He listened to it. And that entire conversation you had with the Sky Sports reporter...

Your mouth drops. As does the anchor in your stomach.

"What was it you said again...?"

"You listened to it." He ignores you.

"Oh yeah, that my 'mismatching colour-blocking golfing attire wouldn't receive the same compliments'."

"You...listened to it all?" you reiterate once again. Your voice rings with all the inflections of a question, but you already know the answer. Unfortunately.

Tom's brows furrow inward.

"Honestly, I can overlook the fact you insulted my outfit, it doesn't bother me that much." There's a 'but' in his sentence. You're just waiting for it. You inwardly panic, trying to remember what else you said that would warrant that dreaded 'but'. Your shield of writer's anonymity has fallen; it's what protects you if you are to ever post negatively about a celebrity, but now that he knows your name and your face, you're left exposed.

"But..." There it is. And in a disbelief, he bites, "I'm too easy? Really?"

There's two ways you could go about this. Stand your ground and defend yourself, or dig yourself a grave and apologise.

Ha. Yeah right.

"I don't really think it was your place to listen to my recordings."

"Oh?"

"Mm-hm. Should've minded your business if you knew what was good for you."

"You--" He cuts himself off and takes a deep breath, almost to contain himself and tries again. "You," he points accusingly, "are very...very lucky that you look as attractive as your voice sounds."

Your cheeks flush angrily. Safe to say, you're not used to anyone calling you attractive let alone Tom Holland, so in your fluster you have no idea how to respond. You don't know how to tame the flutter in your heart nor the fire in your stomach. Instead, you ignore it all and revert back to your original goal.

"Can I have my recorder back? Please?"

"In a minute." He swats his hand away from yours. High above your reach, you stand helpless as you watch his thumb crash land onto the record button, resuming from where it last left off. "I think that what you have about me in your article is a little bit too harsh. Why don't we start putting some positivity back in. I think you have it in you to pay me just one compliment. I did win the competition after all, I think it's deserved."

You laugh hysterically. The nerve of this guy! So conceited. "You don't deserve anything from me."

"C'mon. Just one. It's not that hard. I promise I'll give you your recorder back straight after."

Succumbing to his torment, your eyes roll over his features, his hair, his outfit and his body, trying to identify possible compliments that would meet his demands but yet wouldn't inflate his ego too much. What you don't anticipate is you're spoiled for choice.

Defeated, you sigh. "You...smell nice."

"Aw, c'mon. I said you were attractive and all you could think of was that I smell nice? Try a little harder."

"Hey, you said the deal was that I give you one compliment then I get my recorder back. Cough up, Holland."

A smug grin pulls at his lips. "I'm not satisfied. And I will give it back when I am satisfied."

Given that your hatred towards Tom Holland is now at least justified and not just self-inflicted, it means that it's twice as hard to sacrifice it all and compliment him like he so desperately wants you to, a complete betrayal to your own beliefs. But you NEED your recorder.

"You look strong."

"Elaborate."

"You clearly work out."

"What in particular?"

"Your arms."

"How can you tell?" He's really pushing the mark, overstepping it by miles with the dirty smirk he has on his face because he knows he is. You audibly grumble at the sight. Losing patience...

"They just looked particularly...muscular when you were swinging the golf club."

"Why don't you give them a feel and you can tell your readers how strong they really are in detail? I know you want to."

Is it bad of you to admit that you do want to feel them? Absolutely. Are you going to announce that to him? Absolutely not.

You don't move for a couple of seconds, your own conscience making so much noise inside your head that you can't make a coherent thought. A spark of adrenaline twitches at your hands, enough to catch Tom's eyes but it's not enough to swing it into force.

Quietly, slowly, he reaches for your hand and envelopes his fingers around yours, manipulating them to wrap around his upper arm. He makes sure to mold your fingerprints into his skin while he tenses, just to feel the sheer density of his muscles. His skin is warm, soft to touch but yet firm to grasp. While you become instantly fascinated, his glistening smile brightens in the corner of your eye. It's so quiet in the room that Tom hears the softest stutter of breaths and he feels like a winner all over again.

"Well?" He nods towards the recorder, its red button flashing. For the readers...

"Definitely..." you clear your throat. Why has your mouth gone dry all of a sudden? You retract your hand. "Definitely toned. Sculpted."

"If that's what you like then I should show you this..."

He takes your hand once again, its warmth holding you captive, and drags it all the way down to his torso. You can't pull your eyes away from how he sensually slips your hand underneath the hem of his shirt and weaves your fingers between the valley of his abs. Your fingertips skate over every sculpted ab of his, feeling the way they almost shiver at your cold touch.

Your fingertips aren't enough. Tom takes a step closer and your whole palm presses against him, almost too intimately for strangers.

Tom's head quirks to the side to get a better view of you. "Thoughts?" he asks, even though he can read them so clearly on your face. You're becoming entranced.

"...Holy shit," you whisper. "Um, yeah. Strong."

"For a woman who had a lot to say about me, you're certainly lost for words now."

As the heat rises and things escalate, neither of you diffuse the tension and the string of long, uninterrupted silence continues. Every minute that passes by is a precarious step over crossing boundaries and breaking every rule you have in your moral bible.

It forces you to suck in a nervous breath and hold it for a few seconds while you deliberate what the end goal is. Of course, it was to leave with your recorder but given your current position and your change of opinions, you're not so sure anymore. To be clear, your change of opinion isn't necessarily about Tom; you still think he's conceited, arrogant and incredibly vain, but it is what you do with that opinion that has changed. Before, you avoided him, stopped yourself becoming another little lost sheep and following him at every opportunity. Now? You're giving him every drop of attention you have to give.

Tom watches you intently while he silently introduces himself to your shyer nature, definitely not the same person that walked in here in a fit of rage and demanding for their recorder. The minute he meets that side of you, he knows exactly what to do next.

He drops his head as he drops his voice into his lower register, your hand feeling all the rumblings from his chest. "Want to be completely speechless?"

Fuck it. Sure you do. "Mm-hm."

"Good girl."

You aren't actually sure what he's planning to do so you look for intention in his eyes, but you see nothing but darkened caverns and devilish features. In fact, it's because you're looking into his eyes that you don't realise that he's grown hard underneath his straight grey trousers. Like before, he guides your hand fluidly underneath the waistband where the button pops out easily, and navigates you under the elastic band where he desperately shapes your fingers around him. He pulses underneath you, shaking with relief that he has you exactly where he wants you.

You dare not pull your eyes away from his, even as they droop in his pleasure. More so now that you admit how seductive they look. You try to mirror that same seduction with a small smile, moving your hand up and down his shaft independently.

Fuck, the more you move your hand, the more you think it's never going to end. Bluntly put, he's huge.

As a journalist, you should be eloquent with your words, careful in your choice of vocabulary, definitive with your metaphors, but all those years of reading and writing falters the second the sheer size of him stuns you. It slightly pains you to be so tasteless but nevertheless, you don't think there's any other way to put it.

So caught up in the heat of it, your common sense finally comes to once again acknowledge your recorder in his hand. You forgot he had been recording this entire conversation...

He brings it closer to his lips, seductively whispering directly into it. "Just like that..." He keeps going. "Doing such a good job - fuck - don't stop."

Encouraged, and progressively feeling turned on, you tighten your hand around his cock and move faster.

"How do I feel, sweetheart?" The microphone tilts towards you. Detail. Although at this point, you don't think it's for your readers as much as it is for you and Tom.

"So big. I almost can't fit my hand around you."

He very nearly buckled. That voice of yours is like a siren to him. Little do you know that when he found your recorder and listened to all of your little angry ramblings about him, it had sparked up a fiery, unavoidable desire inside him. It was hell having to listen to your voice talk shit about him, he just couldn't stand it. He needed to hear you compliment him, worship him, adore him, and he spent every spare minute of his day replaying your recorder, instilling your voice to memory until he could manipulate your words, imagining what they would say about him.

But now that he actually gets to hear you feed into his desire is twice the satisfaction than he initially thought.

As quick as lightning hits, an idea occurs to him and it completely devastates his entire system; if hearing you compliment him turns him on, how would having you beg for him make him feel? The idea becomes such an unstoppable craving he already knows his imagination won't be able to satiate it this time. He needs it for real and right now.

"You wanna taste?"

Doe-like eyes stare up at him - oh, you are so capable of begging him - and your movements come to a halt...all except your thumb sweeping over his tip. You didn't actually think this was going to go any further than a hand job.

"You want me to?"

Oh no, no, no. This isn't about Tom begging. "Because I know you want to. I can see how desperately you want to tell everyone how I allowed you to come backstage, meet me, get on your knees for me, how I allowed you to suck me off and how I allowed you to taste me." His hand slithers up your jawline and brings you close, leaving nothing but a hair's breadth to separate you. As you anticipate the feeling of his lips, you have but his breath fanning over yours and the anxiety bubbling at the pit of your stomach to feed from. "You just need to beg for it, sweetheart."

Beg. It was hard enough to lose one battle and compliment him, but to lose an even bigger one and beg? You would be absolutely humiliated.

Would be meaning if it was under any other circumstance, if you weren't so spellbound and seduced by him. But that simply isn't the case.

Not uttering another word, you slowly drop to your knees keeping Tom with the wicked grin within your sights. The zipper of his trousers comes undone and you pull him free, watching as his cock stands tall and bobs heavily with weight. Instinctively, your tongue rushes to wet your lips.

"Beg." Tom demands again. The recorder soon comes back into your view and your jaw clicks with frustration. He's capturing every single word much to his demented, power-hungry mind.

You chew through your irritation and instead tune into the feeling that's bubbling in and around your stomach, the one that's being powered by him. "Please," you breathe. "Please, Tom, I wanna suck you off so badly, I promise I'll be good."

"And do you promise to never write a bad word about me ever again?"

Oh, this fucker.

"I prom-"

"Say it like you mean it."

How you so wish you could lie through your teeth, but you know for a fact that from now on, any bad word you write about Tom Holland will forever be tied with this day. You'll think twice about writing badly because being on your knees for him will get in the way. You'll struggle to find the words to knock him because the compliments you paid him will stain your lips. You'll hesitate to criticise him because you'll remember how you verbalised about his good looks.

"I promise. Just--just let me taste you." It's sad how desperate you sound. "Please?"

He doesn't respond. There's one last warning to give.

"If you break that promise, I will come for you."

Adrenaline rushes through your veins and your heart pounds. Despite being adamant in your dislike for Tom, you do somehow get the feeling that the threat that rings through his tone is not one to be taken lightly. It buzzes a little too seriously for you to brush over it. So you answer accordingly.

"Okay, I promise."

The threat dissipates and he looks at you approvingly, his empty hand dropping to cup your cheek. You aren't so unaware of the twitch of his cock in your hand. "I just want to make it clear and put on the record that out of the two of us..." Tom angles you closer, "it's you that's the easy one. Too easy. So easy that you're already on your knees and begging me."

How you would slap that grin clean from his face. The scowl on yours warns him of it, but he simply laughs, mocking you.

"C'mon, sweetheart. Admit it." His boyish chuckle continues to ring in the air and its contagious effect pulls at your lips despite trying to hide it. He sees clearly that it pains you to admit it, so as a small motivator, he crouches to your level, his hand still cradling your cheek. In quieter words, though still delivered through a smirk, he murmurs..."Be a good girl for me, yeah?" His lips melting onto yours stops you from getting the chance to reply. The surprise of it fogs up your brain, submitted into a dream-like state as he gently molds his lips onto yours. It's short and leaves you wanting more.

With a flutter of lashes, you nod. "Atta girl."

He stands up taller once again and you take that as your cue to fulfill your promise. Your lips wrap around him and your tongue darts to sweep over his tip. His groans can be heard above you and no doubt heard by the recorder, crescendoing the second your head starts bobbing. Your hand covers what your mouth can't reach, doing as much as you can to make him feel good. It seems to work; his hips begin thrusting. Slowly, at first, to swing into rhythm but the more you swallow him the less control he has of his own movements, and soon, with your hair wrapped tightly around his fist, he's rutting erratically, drinking in the sounds of your moans of pleasure and pain.

"Fuck, you're so good at that."

"Don't stop. Don't fucking stop."

"Taking me so well. Good girl."

"Just like that, shit."

"Look how easy you are, fuck. So willing, aren't you? You wanted a word for your precious Youth Diary? Here it is; you are so easy it's pitiful. Fuck--"

Tom's animalistic nature completely dominates to the point where your tears and gags are silently begging to slow down. Every part of you is screaming out: your throat is bruising, your lips are tearing, your eyes are streaming, your knees are cramping, but holy fuck hearing him talk about you like that fuels the fire inside you.

His thighs twitch underneath your hands and you think he might just cum down your throat. The red-hot grip he has of your roots is your only warning before that happens.

Warmth fills your mouth and you're quick to swallow it down before you choke, like it’s instinct. He holds you hostage with his cock deep in your mouth, using you to string out the orgasm for as long as he can. Minutes later, you open your eyes to see Tom hunching over, still very much catching up to you in regaining his composure. His white fist grips the recorder while the other remains tangled through your locks, keeping you in place to prevent you teasing him any further.

When all seems settled, Tom lifts your chin once more - dabbing off the little drop you seem to have missed - and catches your gaze from behind the tears forming in the corner of your eyes. You already know what he's going to ask of you and when he perches the recorder in front of you, he shoots you a wink.

"Detail." He simply says.

"Hmm, you taste so good, Tom. Best I've ever had. I could taste you all day."

At that moment, something snaps in Tom. The smirk drops and his jaw tenses. It's small, minute changes, but it dramatically changes the atmosphere in the room. You just don't know whether it's for better or for worse.

You find your answer when Tom's muscular arms promptly tuck themselves under your arms with vigour, yanking you up onto your feet. The clatter of your recorder steals your attention as Tom carelessly throws it onto a coffee table to his right; after all, he needs his hands to be free if he is planning on returning the favour. You should be complaining about his lack of regard for your equipment and how he could've broken it, but the red flashing light still shows sign of life, so you decide to overlook it for now. Besides, Tom doesn't give you long before he whips your head back to claim your lips, hungrily moaning into them as he forces his body weight against yours and slams you flat against the wall. The collision whips all of the air out of your lungs but it isn't what causes the gasp to jump from your throat. Tom's lips find your neck, suckling onto the supple skin with intentions to bruise, all to distract you from his hand slipping under your skirt. With ease, he palms your cunt, offering just enough of a tease to have you burning for more.

"I need to hear you say my name again with that voice of yours." Ah, so that's what triggered him.

"Tom," you mewl, almost purring.

"As sexy as that sounds, I think it will sound even better when you’re cumming for me."

Oh fuck.

It's frightening how quickly Tom is able to weaken you with just the deft touch of his fingers to your clit and punishing kisses to your neck. You try your best to soak it in and remain somewhat stable to remember every moment of it, but goddammit you can't keep yourself together. So much so that despite Tom claiming to adore the sound of your voice, for the sake of dignity, he keeps his hand clamped hard against your mouth. Neither of you want curious ears to overhear the scandal coming from within.

Never did you think that Tom's all-round talents included making a girl cum so easily. It's kind of frustrating.

His fingers circle around your clit, dragging and pulling every nerve he can find and it winds you up perfectly. Legs shaking, breath faltering, you suspect you have mere seconds before he takes your orgasm.

Your whines and moans buzz from behind Tom's hand, muffled and diffused. Eventually he lets go, and replaces his hand with his lips, once again thrashing against yours.

"You gonna cum for me?"

"Fuck, I--"

"Say my name. Beg me to let you cum."

"Tom, please, I want to cum. Please let me cum."

Two fingers slot themselves into you, his palm taking over pleasing your clit and you have to stop yourself from buckling. It is the last sign Tom needs to know that you're on the precipice of shattering. With a devilish twinkle to his eye and a crooked smile, he sinks closer to you, his lips narrowly brushing against the shell of your ear and whispers the word. "Cum."

In a similar fashion to Tom what seems like hours ago, you come undone. Your hands grip onto his shoulders for stability as he refuses to stop abusing your cunt. His fingers dig deeper, his hand moves faster, and the tight curl of his knuckle breaking you sends you spiralling.

The gut-twisting tension soon turns to tranquil bliss as he slows his movements, finally catching a breath to revel in the post-orgasm haze with a twitch or two catching you out.

For as egotistical as you believed Tom to be, with the grounding kisses he litters over your cheek, neck, lips, he completely negates that belief. He utterly dominated you, yet affection fuels his movements; something you don't expect a vain person to have. Maybe he isn't all you made him out to be...

Calmly, you both collect yourselves until you're presentable, standing apart within the room as if what just happened never happened. The heat of the room is all that's left to suggest otherwise.

Tom doesn't stop you from reaching for your recorder, the plastic rectangular object feeling like home in your hand. You firmly press the stop button, letting the audio file save before you address Tom again.

"Thanks for...y'know, keeping it safe. I genuinely don't know what I would've done if I lost it."

Tom smiles kindly. "It's no problem."

"Oh, and congratulations."

He nods humbly. "Thank you. I didn't actually think I was going to win it, but I guess luck was on my side." Huh. He's not bragging...

Settling your recorder into your bag, you begin to make your way out of the room. You hadn't realised how late it had gotten and how hungry you had became until your stomach grumbled loudly. As you take your cue to leave, Tom leads you out with a gentle hand to the small of your back and chills arise. Shit. Don't start liking him now...

Tom clears his throat before you completely disappear. "Will I be seeing you lurking about any other events this year?"

Something about his question makes you smile. "Maybe. I've got a few film premieres that I will be attending."

"Good. Well, if any of them include me, I'll make sure to review your work again." How his wink makes you weak.

"Hmm, we'll see, Tom Holland."

~~~~~

It takes you over a week after the golfing event to eventually find the courage to finish writing your article. Most of it is written from what you remember thinking throughout the day, but your work leaves much to be desired. All that's missing from the article can be found on your recorder that you have deliberately been ignoring knowing what filth it contains.

It takes a couple of glasses of wine on a Saturday night to find the bravery to listen to it once again. It all goes smoothly at first, words flow from your mind to your fingertips and your article slowly builds as your past self feeds you your own commentary from that day. You were going to stick with your original idea, deciding to keep in all your criticisms about Tom Holland because who's going to stop you?

But your valour is short lived. Because you've reach the end. When you think you have the finished product, a masterpiece of literacy for your readers to enjoy and you have nothing else to write. Just when you think you're about to press 'publish' that you reach that part of your recording that you just can't bring yourself to turn off.

Shit, it turns you on so much to hear Tom's voice once again demand that you promise to never write another criticism again and the way you caved so easily in your lust-induced state. Even listening to it makes you resonate with it all over again, resurrecting the same excitement and anxiety to stir in your stomach. It's a reminder that persuades you that you don't necessarily agree with what you write about Tom. It makes you reconsider all that you've just written, your finger hovering over the backspace button prepared to fix the promise you're about to break.

Fuck. It's such a good story. Probably one of the best articles you've written. Alas, with the disagreement going on in your head, you can't find it in yourself to commit to it. There's also the problem that if you are to post it, the privilege of writers' anonymity will no longer be in your possession. Tom does, after all, know your name and your face, and you are damn sure he will take the time to find it and read it. What unnerves you is that you have no idea what actions he might take. How could you forget that warning?

"If you break that promise, I will come for you."

So there you sit with your empty glass of wine, chewing nervously on your nails while your eyes dry at the light of the screen you've been deliberating over for the last three hours. The question still remains.

What do you do?

[malfoyx]

Photos you'd have on your phone with Tom Holland?

photos you would have on your cell phone if you were dating tom holland

(if anyone wants another male artist just send the request❤️)

(special bonus)

[bradtomlovesya]

A Stupid Play. 1 | Series Masterlist

One: This is not a stupid theatre play (Is it?)

Peter Parker x reader series

Summary: You and Peter are dating and decide to go to college together so you don't have to break up. What you didn't know is that even if you were together, that didn't mean a happily ever after.

Warnings: Pure Angst!, Peter being kinda an idiot, fluff!, some little descriptions of sex.

w/c: 1.3k +

a/n: Enjoy this chapter! As always, coments, reblogs and likes are completely appreaciated❤️. Gif not mine.

Act #1

"Peter! Peter!!!" You ran into his room. "The letters have arrived, the letters are here!" you held up the envelopes in your hand and showed them to him with a smile. The college admission letters had appeared in your mailbox this morning.

You and Peter had agreed to apply to the same colleges, colleges you both liked and felt comfortable at but you wanted to go to the same one, you didn't want to split up. Everyone knows that couples break up after they go to college and you didn't want that to happen to you. Your first choice was Yale, Peter wanted to study science and you wanted to study law so it was a great choice for both of you. 

You were so excited about this idea that you had already started looking for flats to live together in Connecticut.

"Yes, I just brought mine," he replied enthusiastically. "We agreed to open them at the same time." He reminded you.

"I know, that's why I came" You smiled and sat down on his bed across from him.

"Alright, which one do we open first?" he asked as he looked at the unopened envelopes in front of him.

"Harvard?" you asked. 

"Alright" He nodded.

You both tore open the envelope together and proceeded to read the letter.

You inhaled deeply as you finished reading, you hadn't been admitted. "I didn't get in" You looked at him with a fixed and somewhat sad look on your face. There were still two colleges left and Harvard wasn't your first choice after all.

"Me neither" You put the letter aside. He was frustrated that he didn't get in but, like you, he had the same thoughts. "It wasn't our first choice anyway." He took your hand in a comforting way and gave you a smile that made you smile too. "Let's open the NYU one."

"Yes" you took the envelope in your hands as he did and both of you opened it. After a moment you look at Peter with a smile. He was looking at you the same way. "Did you get in?" you asked keeping the wide smile on your lips.

"Yes! What about you?" I waited before getting more excited, I didn't want to be a jerk if you didn't get in. 

"I did get in!" You both gave each other a tight hug and laughed in unison, it was a joy to have gotten into the same university together.

"Alright, only one left" Peter looked at you with a smile. "On the count of three... 1, 2, 3!" you both opened the letter and read it.

The smile on your face, Yale was your first choice and you had got in! you couldn't be happier. You looked up to see Peter and his smile was gone. His eyes were glued to the letter, his eyes were moving from side to side rereading the words on the paper over and over again.

"Peter?" You asked worriedly and walked over to him.

"I didn't get in" He sighed and threw the letter on the floor in a ball. He snorted and looked away.

"Don't be like that" You gave him a sad look and put down your letter leaving it face down. You didn't want to tell him that you got in. "We still have NYU," you tried to comfort him.

"You got in?" He stared at you.

You didn't want to lie but you still did. Peter meant the world to you. "No, I didn't get in" you denied and sighed. "Their loss" you smiled slightly and took his hands.

"Their loss" he nodded and moved in to kiss your lips. "NYU, here we go!" he exclaimed excitedly and kissed you again as you both laughed.

Act #2

You and your boyfriend decided not to move in together and instead live on campus to get the "full college experience" or at least that's what you both said, in reality it was because you didn't have enough money to afford a flat in new york, getting a job was becoming a difficult task.

"Do you need help with that?" asked Peter as he walked towards you inside the dorm. 

"Peter!" You hugged him and jumped up wrapping your legs around his waist. He held you without a problem, he was spiderman after all. "What are you doing here? I thought you would be unpacking with May" you looked into his pretty eyes.

"I was supposed to but I told him that my beautiful girlfriend was going to need my help and that I was going to be fine" He kissed the tip of your nose making you laugh.

"What a smart boy" you smiled and kissed his lips. 

"Is your partner not here yet?" He asked.

You shook your head as he set you down again "The office told me she'll be here tomorrow." 

"That means we have the room to ourselves for today?" he raised and lowered his eyebrows mischievously and pulled you to him by your waist. 

You laughed and nodded "Now? we haven't even made the bed" you continued to laugh.

"He took you in his arms and threw you on the bed to kiss you and slip his hands down your blouse. "I love college already"

Act #3

"So do you really want to join that fraternity?" you asked as you helped him pack his bag.

They had been at a frat party a week ago and Peter had gotten along really well with the frat boys -omega alpha deta-, so well that they had invited him to join them since they had a room available.

"Yep, the guys are really nice, plus, isn't that part of the college experience?" he smiled.

"Not everyone joins a fraternity in college" you sighed. "I don't know, there's something I don't like about the whole thing, Peter. I don't think they're the right people for you." you admitted.

"I'm going to be fine" He took your face in his hands after closing his suitcase. "It's going to be fine." He assured you and you nodded. 

You weren't very convinced about it but you trusted him.

"Let's go?" he held out his hand and took his suitcase in the other after hanging up a backpack.

"I'll walk with you" you took his hand and together you walked to the frat house. As soon as you entered you felt how heavy the atmosphere was, perhaps because of the amount of testosterone that abounded in this place. together you entered what you were told was the empty room and left Peter's things on the bed.

"Peter!" exclaimed a light-eyed brunet from the doorframe. "Good to have you here brother" They both walked over and hugged and gave a high five. "You have a strong grip" he laughed.

"Thanks for inviting me" Peter said as he laughed as well. "I like going to the gym" he said matter-of-factly.

"And the beauty next to you is...?" The brunet looked you up and down. His look was more of a predator eyeing his prey.

"This is y/n, my girlfriend" Peter grabbed you by the waist possessively and pulled you to him. He wanted to make the brunet understand that he wasn't available.

"Pleasure..." you replied with a slight smile waiting for him to tell you his name.

"Caleb?" A redhead appeared behind him wearing only a bra and tiny shorts. "Will you be back in bed?" she asked.

"In a second, sweetheart." Caleb spanked her and the redhead walked into the front room closing the door.

You definitely felt uncomfortable.

"Your girlfriend?" asked Peter.

"No," Caleb laughed. "She's just a girl I met a couple of days ago, you can borrow her anytime." Peter and Caleb started laughing.

You stood there watching their exchange of "jokes". You never thought you'd see Peter laughing at something like that let alone with you by his side, this was a rather disrespectful attitude that you didn't like at all.

Worst of all, it felt lonely as the beginning. You were in the first few acts of what seemed to be an overacted play and you dreaded seeing the end.

But your life was never as dramatic as a stupid play, was it?

|°|°|°|°|°|°|°|°|

Peter Parker Tags:

@raajali3 @fangirling-galore @powerpuffluuvv @itszulli @hallecarey1 @xoxokiaraaxoxo @kaitieskidmore1 @lnmp89 @pure-a-tea @vixparker @Army24--7 @spiderydreams00 @My-name-duh @nani-2305 @Mochimms @ietss @prancerrparkerr @Lynnzilla3000 @hpsgirlrw @hollandweather

[sailingintothenight]

“DARLING, YOU.”

FutureDad!Tom Holland x actress!reader.

Summary: On a rainy day, (Y/N) broke up with Tom and never looked back. The reason is still a mystery, is a secret you never told anyone. But after 4 years and a hopeless night, you and Tom must face the next 9 months together while you two decide whether you can pick up your life where you left off or the resentment will be too much to forgive and forget. But how easy can it be when there is a new girl in his life and a possible new love in your own?

A/N: Hello everyone. It's been over 4 years since I first posted this story, and I thought it was lost and forgotten, but after all this time, I realized that I still want to keep writing about Tom. My depression has taken me to some very dark places, preventing me from continuing with this page, but I still have affection for it, so I don't want to let it go just yet. I'm sure no one remembers this story anymore hehehe but I want to see how far I can go with it, even if only one person likes it. So, here I am! I hope you give it a chance again. Thank you so much! - V.

(Just in case you haven't notice, Timothée Chalamet will be (Y/N)' romantic interest because i'm delulu and i love him as well hehe)

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER 00

CHAPTER 01

“I’m pregnant, Ryan.”

As a girl who grew tall but is still a girl on the inside, the world she knew has completely changed, scaring her, and as she waits, sitting on a bench on that playground for her older brother to react, everything seems like a strange and alien place, and silent tears threaten to fall easily down her tender, yet sad face. Her world doesn’t stop spinning and (Y/N) doesn’t know if it’s her fears or her pregnancy that causes the nausea that rises from the bottom of her stomach to the corner of her throat, although she believes it’s still too early for that. The pain in her chest makes her heart tighten, as painfully as her mother’s words that pierced her and turned to ashes the fire she thought she had to face the uncertain future that awaited her. So (Y/N) sighs deeply and exhales the air out of her body leaving her without strength or desire to continue, but she knows she has no choice now, because her body no longer belongs to her just like that house where she lived all her life.

She just hopes her brother doesn't have the same reaction than her parents.

“We're happy about that, aren't we, love?” And to her surprise, he smiles, looking at her with eyes full of love, but he can't hide his concern. “The baby... Is it Tom's?”

(Y/N) nods softly, but she tries not to drown in the embarrassment.

“Don't ask how it happened.”

Ryan laughs softly.

“I have three kids, honey, I know exactly how it happened.” He holds his sister’s hand in her lap, sharing a bit of his warmth with her now that she feels like the world has frozen over. It’s comforting, though. “From your expression, I imagine Mom already knows, so I know well that she and Dad didn’t have the best of reactions.” Ryan sighs heavily, watching his twins play on that playground for a moment. “I’m sorry, (Y/N). I know Mom and Dad love us, but they also loved the idea that marriage comes first. So… does Tom know it?”

(Y/N) nods again.

“Yes, he’s been very… kind, even after everything that happened.”

Ryan has a lot of questions, but he decides to start with the most important one.

“Are you guys going to keep the baby?”

“Yes.” (Y/N) lets out a held breath, but she can’t stop a thousand worries from stabbing her heart like daggers. “But I’m scared. I'm afraid I'm not going to be a good mother, that my good intentions aren't enough to raise a baby properly.”

Ryan shrugs, at peace with himself, because he harbored those doubts too.

“No one magically knows how to raise a child, baby, that’s something you learn along the way, but I always thought of you as a very warm person, with a lot of love to give, and I trust that that’s the pillar with which you lay the foundation to raise your child: the rest, like changing diapers, preparing milk, putting them to sleep, is something you learn with time and that’s something you already know how to do. You helped me with my children even though you lived between movies, traveling most of the time. You know how to love, (Y/N), and that’s all a baby asks for, to be loved and protected. The rest comes on its own. Besides, the baby has a father, and if Tom loves him or her like he loved you, and I know he will, my nephew or niece will be the luckiest of all, okay?” Ryan tries to hold her gaze, but (Y/N) feels relief through the fear, and the feeling overflows over the edge of her heart, so she rests her head against his shoulder. “It’ll be okay, honey.”

“Promise?” she asks, in a little girl’s voice.

“I promise.”

A few minutes later, Danielle and Ethan, the twins who had just turned 7, run up to them when they see their favorite aunt. (Y/N) can feel the love flowing from their hearts towards her, and although she usually jokes that they only loved her because she was their only aunt, the truth is that the twins’ love was because (Y/N) loved them as if they were hers, just like Tom had said.

As the afternoon is about to end, and the weather changes, (Y/N) stops in front of Tom’s door, the key in her shaking hand. At that moment, (Y/N) thinks and wonders: Tom Holland must have been just a stranger since they said goodbye in the past, but how would she call him now? He was no longer her darling, her only, her love. Should she talk to him as if nothing had happened? As if they hadn’t broken up in the most feasible way? What is the appropriate distance between Tom and her? What is the metric system that must separate them so they don't cross the line again that got them into that situation in the first place? One half of her wished to stay in the warmth of the bed Tom handed her last night, and the other wished she could take her margarita and leave that place too.

Taking a ragged breath, she opens the door and walks in. Giving her a warm welcome, Tessa runs to the door, tail wagging, recognizing who her mom was as Tom used to call (Y/N) when they were together.

"Tom?"

“In the kitchen!” (Y/N) walks over with Tessa at her side, one hand holding her still flat belly, wondering if she was doing this to protect the tiny baby currently growing inside her, or for the baby to give her the courage to face the uncertain future. Stopping at the double glass doors, (Y/N) watches Tom serve dinner, dinner he didn’t have to make, leaving two plates on the granite table in the middle of the place. “I don’t know how to cook yet so please don’t be too picky with me. But I made your favorite: spaghetti with sausage…” Tom pauses, giving her a dubious look. “It’s still your favorite, isn’t it?”

(Y/N) nods, but guilt bubbles up inside her.

“Yeah.”

Tom can feel the relief in his bones.

“Great. Sit down, I’ll get something to drink.” Moving around the kitchen that is his, Tom can sense the reservations in her, but silently, and without pressure, he hopes that will change with time, although he knew they had to talk about it because, the best time to do things is now, right? (Y/N) takes a seat on the wooden chair, giving Tessa a couple of pats on the head at the same time as Tom places two cans of soda on the table, before sitting down as well. “So… everything went well with Ryan?”

“No. He’s mad at you for getting his little sister pregnant.”

“What?” Tom blinks, like a scared child, and she can’t help but laugh.

She needed that desperately, to laugh, even if it’s just a little bit.

“I’m sorry. I’m just kidding with you, Tom…” (Y/N) looks at him with a small smile, and it’s sweet because she always was. “Everything worked out. Ryan’s glad to finally be an uncle, he says I was already making him wait too long... and how did it go with your brothers?”

“Good, very good, actually. I don’t know which of the three is more excited to be an uncle.” Tom watches her for a few seconds, taking the spaghetti on her fork, but not bringing it to her mouth. “Should we… talk about how things will be when the baby arrives?”

(Y/N) swallows the lump in her throat, because she would like to avoid that conversation at all costs, she would like to stop wondering where the baby will live, if seeing the baby grow up in two homes is what he or she deserved.

“Can we talk about something less serious? Please?”

Tom nods when she looks into his eyes, pleading, and he can see the fear in them, the unanswered questions, the pain.

“I was thinking of several names.” Tom smiles shyly, but he can’t keep his joy quiet. “I couldn’t sleep thinking about it.”

“Oh, yeah?” (Y/N) manages to smile too. “Like which ones?”

Deep in his gaze, (Y/N) can see his nervousness, but also his endless happiness.

“Autumn or Marly if the baby is a girl, and Nathan or Noah if the baby is a boy.”

(Y/N), smiling but avoiding his gaze for a moment, takes a sausage on her fork, just to hide the fact that his happiness is contagious.

“They are very beautiful. I like them.” She looks into his eyes, before eating the sausage, and, although she doesn’t know it, that small action is comforting to him, because, in some way, that was his way of contributing to her pregnancy as a father. “The truth is that I haven’t thought about it yet, but if you agree, I would like to name her Rose if the baby is a girl.”

“Like your grandmother.” Tom can’t help but smile, and (Y/N) nods. “Autumn Rose Holland, sounds like perfect, don’t you think?”

Too perfect.

When they finish dinner, (Y/N) heads upstairs to her borrowed room, against her wishes because Tom wouldn’t let her do the dishes. But when he’s alone with his thoughts, because Tessa was determined to stay by (Y/N)’s side, his phone rings on the granite counter.

“Hey, Mum.” He answers, on speaker as he starts washing the dishes.

“Hey, honey, It's been a few days since we talked... Is (Y/N) okay? Are you okay?”

Tom sighs, because, even though their future together was uncertain, he wanted to do things right for his baby.

“(Y/N) is okay, she went upstairs to get ready for bed. I guess I’m okay too, but I’ll be better when she and I can figure things out.”

Nikki stays silent for a few long seconds.

“Tom, honey, have you thought about living together?”

“I tried to talk to her about it, but (Y/N) isn’t ready, and I don’t want to pressure her into talking about something that makes her uncomfortable. I want her and our baby to be okay, and with the little I read online these nights, it’s best that she doesn’t feel pressured about anything, so I’m going to wait until she’s ready to talk to me.”

Nikki laughs, softly.

“You still love her, don’t you? The way you want to take care of her, it sounds like you do.”

Tom thinks about it before speaking.

“I don’t know, mum. (Y/N) was the first girl I ever loved, and I loved her for a long time, almost my whole life, you know that.” He can’t help but laugh, smiling to himself. “I fell in love with her before I knew what love was. And I can’t lie to myself and not say that I lived part of my life following her around when we were kids, that she could say something and I would completely agree like a fool.”

Nikki smiles, even if he can't see her.

“Do you remember when you were kids and you didn’t want to go to the fair? But the moment (Y/N) told you that she wanted to go, you insisted that we go too. You changed your mind so quickly when things were about her.”

For some reason, Tom feels a little embarrassed that his mom noticed how deeply in love he was too. But it’s a nice, warm shame, like when you’re a kid and someone asks you if you’re in love with your classmate, and so that she or he doesn’t find out, you say no, even though deep down you know it’s a big lie.

“I guess after all… I still love her,” he says, in a low voice, as if that would make his mom not hear him.

“But is that enough for you two to get back together?” Nikki leaves the question hanging for a moment before continuing. “Your baby has the right to grow up in a united home, Tom, but you have to ask yourself what you want first. If you decide to raise the baby separately, it’s not the end of the world, because that won’t deprive him or her of the love you two will give your child. What I mean is that you look for what’s best for you too, because you’ll be a great father, I have no doubt about that, son.”

When they end the call, and in the middle of his meditation, Tom receives a text from the director of “The Devil All the Time.” It’s the last thing he wanted to read at that moment when his thoughts are spinning with the force of a hurricane, but Tom knows that he can’t avoid his responsibilities as an actor. With the phone in his pants pocket, he walks up the stairs until he stops at the guest room, silently wishing, amidst the constant confusion of his feelings, that (Y/N) had agreed to sleep in his room. Not together, he had thought, unless she wanted it that way.

He hated himself for thinking that way.

“(Y/N)? Can I come in?”

“Come in.”

When Tom enters, he laughs softly at the sight of Tessa on the bed, next to her. Sitting there, phone in hand, he knows he won’t be able to keep Tessa away from (Y/N), and that she also knows that the filming of the movie had been moved up two weeks, so they would both have to travel to Alabama the next day.

“I guess you got the same message I did.”

(Y/N) nods.

“Yeah, but it’s okay, you know? I think this will help us clear our minds until we can talk about this situation.”

Tom can’t help it, his brow furrowing into a worried expression.

“If I’m honest, I’d rather you stayed home. I’m worried you’d have to work extra and that might affect the baby.”

Home, he had said, but until they sorted out their current situation, she felt like she didn’t have a home of her own, even though he was offering her one.

“I know you’re worried about the baby, and I really appreciate it, Tom, but trust me when I tell you that I’m going to be okay, that I’m going to take care of the baby too, and that if at any point the stress gets too much, I’ll be able to stop myself.”

“I’m worried about you too, (Y/N).” His gaze is sincere, and she can’t help but get lost in his autumn-colored eyes, just like the name he wants for his daughter. “We’re in this together, and I know I can’t contribute much to your pregnancy, but I want to take care of you two as much as I can.”

Despite the constant nervousness she feels when she’s around him, (Y/N) manages to hold his gaze, steeling herself.

“I know, Tom, the baby is ours, and believe me, just having you here with me is comforting. The truth is, I’m really scared, and I think you must be too, but despite that, I can feel your love for the baby. And that’s all I need from you in this pregnancy. That, and you holding my hair if I can’t when the nausea starts.”

(Y/N) is joking, but she also means it, and Tom knows it well, because after so many years together, he can see through her like glass.

Tom smiles.

“Trust me, darling, this baby will be so loved that when he or she grows up, he or she will throw it in our faces that we smothered him or her with our love.”

(Y/N) chuckles.

“I’m sure of that.”

Tom wants to say more, he wants to include her in that suffocating love, but the barrier between them still exists, so, after saying goodnight, he leaves the room heading towards his own. But it’s ironic, isn’t it? as Tom receives a second text.

I can’t wait to see you, Tommy. – Hana.

Because in the solitude of the room, (Y/N) receives the same one.

I can’t wait to see you, darling, it’ll be fun to work together again. – Timmy.

Hey! I'm tagging the people who asked for it in the beginning, but if you don't want it anymore, just let me know please :)

@theresnooneheretosave

@jackiehollanderr

@darkwandanat

@thevelvetseries

@omi-my-beloved

@lilhoodhippie

@sesamepancakes

@kait4073

@boiolay

@mayal0pez

[deathofacupid]

haircuts | tom holland

summary: for some reason, you let tom give you a haircut.

warnings: one dirty joke, talk of hitman (??) it's really just fluff-

pairing: tom holland x fem!reader

word count: 1.0k+ words

“why on earth did i agree to this in the first place?” you asked, looking at yourself in the bathroom mirror.

“because i’m the best boyfriend ever and you love me,” he scoffed, as if it were obvious.

“mm, i’m thinking no.”

“doesn’t matter! no take-backsies!”

tom sectioned off your hair, gently pulling on it to tease you. he patted the top of your head, causing you to glare at him. “see, all done. well, with the first part.”

he paused, “wait, how short did you want it?”

“do a couple inches. 4 at max. i don’t want you to cut off too much and have nothing left for my barber to fix.”

“yes ma’am,” he grinned, and you simply rolled your eyes.

“seriously, don’t mess this upppp!”

“i’m an actor, darling. not a hairdresser.”

“then why on earth did you beg me to let you do this?!”

“…because i thought i’d be funny? and it is! it’s hilarious and i haven’t even started yet!”

“i swear to god, i’m gonna shave your head off.”

“hair, you mean?”

“no. head.”

“you can’t touch my hair,” tom said, waving you off. “sony owns it.”

you pressed your lips together, frowning at his triumph. “sony can’t own your hair if you don’t have hair,” you retorted.

“yeah, yeah. don’t be such a worry wart, love. it’s fine,” he insisted.

“jeez. just cut it already.”

“okay, okay! don’t rush the artist,” tom muttered, “it’s actually quite painful, the amount of faith you have in me.”

“well, considering that you’re an actor and not a hairdresser, i think i have every right,” you grinned, playfully swatting him.

“hmm. well, you’ll be eating your own word once you see your hair! but just in case,” tom added quickly, “don’t quote me on that.”

“yeah, okay.”

he took scissors to your hairs, just barely hovering over.

“wait!” you interrupted, turning around to face him, and then yelping again when you saw that the metal object was barely a centimeter away from you.

“hey! careful!”

“you stabbed me!”

“w-what? it didn’t touch you!”

“it almost did! and then i would’ve had no eyes!”

“that wasn’t even my fault,” tommy argued back, “you’re the one who spun around that fast. also,” he mumbled, “you wouldn’t have lost both your eyes. …just one.”

“sabotage,” you hissed.

“what? where on earth are you getting this from?”

you sighed, shaking your head. “i knew you were a hitman.”

he slowly turned to face you, quizzical. “wha- who would pay me to kill you? and what would they get out of that?”

“i dunno. are you insinuating i have no worth?”

“no!”

you narrowed your eyes at him, “murderer,” you whispered harshly.

“oh, wow, you got me there. because that is what i was hired for.”

“that would make a great movie.”

“huh? a movie? girlfriend gets stabbed in one eye by boyfriend- even though it isn’t boyfriend’s fault -and plot twist; boyfriend is hitman?”

“yes. precisely.”

“okay buddy.”

“yeah. it’d be a total block-buster.”

“…of course it would be.”

“yep. wanna know why?”

“why?” tom asked, giving in.

“because spider-man’s in it.”

he tilted his head, confused.

“you! you’re the lead!”

“hmm. i would make a good boyfriend. i’d capture that role perfectly.”

“what? no. you’d be the girlfriend.”

“then who’d be the boyfriend?”

“downey. duh. how else would it be a total block-buster?”

“well, i think it’d be one because i’m in it.”

“yeah, but downey.”

“but holland.”

“mmmm… no. fine. maybe a bit. the girls are crazy for you.”

“like you?”

“i wouldn’t say crazy. maybe momentarily fazed, but even that’s far-fetched. i’d say you’re the one who’s crazy for me.”

“well, you aren’t mistaken,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your cheek, which in turn made you giggle. “wait, why’d you stop me?”

“oh, right. because you have to get my hair wet first.”

“ohhh. wait, really?”

“generally speaking, have you ever gotten a haircut?”

“yes!”

“okay then. anyways, do it.”

“sure,” he finished the last bit of his tea, before rinsing it out.

“what are you doing? why are you washing the mug in the bathroom sink? i feel like this is a valid question.”

“because i’m not trying to get tea on you.”

“wait, i don’t get it.”

once second you were nice, content, and dry. (well, as content as you could be.)

and the next you were soaking wet.

you looked up at him, jaw dropping as you moved your wet hair to one side of your face. “you. did. not.”

“what? you said you needed the hair wet!”

“so you dumped a cup of tea on me?!”

“no, i dumped a mug of water on you that was originally filled with tea,” upon seeing your face, he tried to amend, “but, hey, at least… you’re wet?”

“no. i’m not. this wasn’t arousing.”

“that’s not what i meant!”

“there was a spray bottle under the sink!” at hearing your words, tom turned around and open the cupboard.

“oh, yeah. there is. isn’t that crazy?” he pulled it out and started to fill it.

“well, how’s it matter now?”

“i just want to be thorough,” he nodded, causing you to glare at him.

“sorry.”

“liar.”

“yes.”

“okay,” you sighed, “c’mon short-stack, let’s get this over with.”

“i’m taller than you,” tom deadpanned.

“i’m… relatively… average hight.”

he frowned at that, but you continued, “you, kid, are also relatively average height. for a woman.”

“hey! i’m also older than you!”

“okay,” you shrugged.

“don’t test me, i’ll shave off your head,” he threatened.

“you’d never.”

he dangled the scissors in front of you, a smirk on his face. “watch me.”

“god! just cut it already!”

“okay, okay. impatient much?”

and because you were working on your anger management, you didn’t sock him in the face. you really considered it, though.

he snipped at your hair, grinning. tommy made you close your eyes the entire time, claiming that it had to be a surprise. surprise.

“ta-da! all done!”

it… it wasn’t terrible. it sucked, but it could have been worse. obviously, though, you weren’t having it like that to tom’s premiere tonight.

you inhaled, grabbing him by the sides of his face.

“this, babes,” a pause, “is why you should stick to acting.”

“in my opinion, it’s not half bad.”

“no, no, it’s definitely more than half bad.”

“beggars can’t be choosers,” tom said, closing his eyes and crossing his arms.

“i don’t think that works in this scenario.”

“hater.”

“yeah, okay.” you turned to your phone, which buzzed beside you.

your mouth fell agape, and your eyes widened.

leo (hair person)

i know it’s short notice, but something came up. so sorry!

you looked him dead in the eye; “where’s the razor?”

[hollandsangel]

WAIT WAIT I DIDNT EVEN SEE U HAD TOM REQS OPEN, BUT I'VE BEEN THINKING ABT A FAME AU SORTA THING AND TOM IS PERFECT FOR IT:

just sort of tom and reader sneaking around the pap to see each other, secret moments in crowded rooms y'know all that lovey shtick.

(this ones so vague im sorry 😭 however was inspired by 'paris' by miss ts)

this one is SILLY but i love her thank you sm for the req love!!!

⇘ ⇘ ⇘

at first it was actually quite stressful, dodging cameras and wandering eyes, rarely leaving the house just the two of you and never touching in public, but as time went on, it sort of became a bit of a game. although you might have been getting a little too bold.

 tom is definitely getting too bold, sending you glances across the room where he sits with harry and haz, something bubbly in his hand.

you sit at a different table with a few costars, trying not to get too distracted by tom’s smirk and dark brown eyes. it’s hard though, considering the perfectly tailored suit hes wearing, accompanied by shiny cufflinks and his glasses after you’d begged him to wear them tonight. you feel a strange sense of triumph knowing you’re the one to have convinced him to wear his glasses, likes its just one more secret to add to the list. his hair is a proper mess, proper in the sense it’s styled to look effortless, but it’s tom, so of course it’s effortless.

you take a sip from your glass of water and lean in a bit closer to hear the story maude is telling a bit better, something about her latest play. there’s cameras everywhere, people posting instagram stories and journalists coming in from the red carpet, big cinematic set ups for the live stream about to take place.

you swear you sense him before he even utters your name, maybe you smell his cologne or hear his voice subconsciously amongst a hundred others, but suddenly he’s at your table, greeting others before you.

he says your name, feigning surprise as if you didn’t wake up in his bed this morning.

“i didn’t know you’d be here tonight,” he says, hand on the back of your chair. hes smirking, glasses slipping down the bridge of nose. you think you see harry gag behind him.

you smile innocently up at him, licking your lips, “tom! it’s so nice to see you!” you push your chair back and stand to give him a hug, biting back a laugh when harry mutters a curse under his breath and walks away from the two of you with full commitment. tom does the same.

a camera pans around the room from a few tables away and you begin pull away but tom stops you, whispering “coat check” before you separate.

you hear him, but keep up the facade, “it’s so nice to see you,” you fake niceties.

“you as well, i’m sure i’ll see you around, just gonna do the rounds,” he moptions a circle with his finger, nodding at the rest of the table before wandering off.

“i guess you haven’t seen each other since the movie came out,” someone across from you says, “lovely man,” they tell you.

you simply agree before excusing yourself to the bathroom.

it’s so juvenile, you think, the giddy feeling you get in your stomach from sneaking around and giggling with tom in dark corners like the one you’re in now, tucked away in the coat room, sneaking kisses and little touches when no one is watching.

“tom–” you don’t know what cuts you off first, your stifled laugh or his mouth on yours, “i have to get back to my table.”

he grips your waist so you cant wiggle away, grinning at you.

“we’re gonna get caught,” you’re kissing him back, so it’s hard for him to believe you really have to go, even for a second.

“not if you stop talking,” he teases.

[shawnxstyles]

the list

DATE: JUNE 15, 2023

summary: tom offers for you and your writing partner to work at the empty frat house when you have no other options. even though you hate tom with a burning passion, you can’t fail this class. when all is going fine, your partner has to leave abruptly for an emergency, leaving you with no way home (wink). thinking you’re all alone, you decide to snoop through tom’s belongings to try to find his rumored list.

request: yessss

song: Hot in Herre- nelly

words: 9.2k

warnings: SMUT (f- receiving [oral, fingering, cock-thumping, nipple play, choking, deepthroating], m- receiving [blowjob], [small] daddy kink, degrading kink, rough/protected sex [not clearly consensual, but implied], mention of reader going under/slight subspace), pet names (princess), a lot of language, and a lot of dialogue.

note: I’M BACK and i’m with this big baby right here. i hope you guys enjoy this because it took me a few days to write. i’m glad to finally have some time to write again!

frat!tom x college!reader

–

“I’m really glad we got to be partners on this,” You smile as you hug your textbook and notebook to your chest.

“Yeah, me too. I think we’ll do great,” Brandon replies, and then the conversation basically stops there. It was dry and kind of awkward, but he was pretty nice, so it’s alright with you.

Your Creative Writing class was assigned a project that consisted of writing a short story with another person. Your teacher picked the partners and you got Brandon, which you were thankful for because he is original and creative, also known as not being a plagiarizer. But you weren’t sure how well your guys’ genres mixed.

You wrote a lot of old realistic romance stories, whether it was for free-writing in class or on your own time. Brandon apparently wrote a lot of futuristic science fiction and read a lot of comic books. You weren’t against the idea that he was a nerd or a geek, but you just hoped it didn’t overwhelm your writing process. But again, he was nice, which you didn’t get from most guys.

The campus is bussing like usual. All different kinds of people roam the concrete ground waiting for their classes to start or trying to leave without dropping all their things or wandering because they don’t know what else to do. It’s a balance that you’ve been accustomed to for the past year. Yeah, you took a gap year at 18 and are now a 20 year-old sophomore in college, but that doesn’t mean you have your shit figured out. No one does, and that kind of comforts you.

With these random thoughts, you and Brandon walk through the crowded campus until you reach the library.

“What the hell,” You squint your eyes at the paper sign that is taped to the glass door. You suggested the library as your work spot because Starbucks may be a little loud and you needed a lot of silence while writing. You’re also very picky with your own stories, so you can’t even imagine how it’s going to be when you combine ideas. Maybe you should just be less conceited…

As you read the surprisingly fine print, you find out that the room is having an inspection check.

“The librarian told people not to eat in there,” Brandon shakes his head in disappointment and you sigh in subtle annoyance.

“Well what are–”

“Oh, shit, it’s closed?” A voice appears from behind you and you nearly turn around and swing at the body. Only because you know whose body it belongs to.

A body with perfect fucking arms and a stupidly good-looking face–

Stop it.

“No, it’s just locked and has a sign that says it’s closed,” You roll your eyes as you spin around, facing Tom in all his stupid glory. A slight smirk creeps up his face as his eyes look down at you. You watch as he chews his gum, and you hate that it’s kind of hot.

Stop. It.

“What’s with the attitude? I just asked a question–”

“Well, it was a stupid question,” You snarl, biting on your lip in irritation. Even looking at him gets you all riled up because you know how he is.

You’re not sure exactly when you started hating Tom, but you know exactly why. Hate might be a strong word, but it goes well with the feeling you experience every time his name is mentioned or you see his smug face. You hate the way he talks about girls. You hate the way he treats girls, like they’re on some type of list and he’s just checking them off. Every time he even looks at a woman he finds mildly attractive, she’s instantly on said-list. He probably has a handwritten copy somewhere. You wouldn’t be surprised because you’ve heard that rumor before.

You heard a lot about him before you actually knew him. You heard through the grapevine that he lost his virginity to a girl in college when he was only 15, and now he’s a senior in college. And that he fucked three different girls in the same day during his senior year of high school. And a new one that you’ve heard is that he has sex every single day with a new person because he can’t live without it. You’re not sure if all of these are true or correct, but after you got to know him just a little, you know that it can’t be too far from the truth.

Tom was in your Film Analysis class last year. You purposely sat next to him because you thought he was cute, and you weren’t wrong, but you paid for it at the end of the year. He would constantly peek at your papers, and at first, you thought it was a sign of flirting. But he was just too involved with his phone during the films that he never knew what was going on once the assignments came. Your professor didn’t let you guys change seats because it was easier to take attendance with a seating chart, and he had “hundreds of students every day” blah blah blah. Why did your teacher have to be so old he was on the brink of death?

Throughout the entire year, you would overhear Tom talk about girls and what he was doing with them. It disgusted you that someone could be so objective and still get the girl (or girls), but you tried not to get involved with it. Then one day, like a random switch, Tom tried to hit on you. He tries to deny it, saying “Why would I do that?” and “You’re not my type” and shit like that, but Tom is only in it for the sex. He doesn’t care too much about appearances, so that’s how you know he was full of shit.

To this day, you swear you’re still on his list, whether it’s a physical or mental one. Tom flirts with you like he can, and yeah, sometimes that fucks with your head, but you remain composure. Because of your curiosity, you want to find out, one, if he actually has a list and two, if you’re on it. But your hate for him overpowers your curious wonders. If you did find this “list,” you wouldn’t stop making fun of him for it. And, he wouldn’t be able to survive if you were actually on it.

“Can we work at your place, Y/N?” Brandon asks, completely ignoring Tom.

“Can’t,” You reply, “my roommate asked for the evening, so she can…have her boyfriend over.”

“Oh,” he stares at the ground awkwardly and scratches his neck.

“Oh, you mean have sex?” Tom inserts himself into the conversation. You glare at him with searing lasers in your eyes. “What? You can’t say the word sex? Does it turn you on too much or something?”

“Tom!” You whack him in the arm with your heavy textbook and he simply laughs. It was whole and deep, and it made you feel all warm, but so did your hatred for him, so what’s the difference? “What is wrong with you? Do you have any filter?”

“I’m going to say…no,” he winks and crosses his arms like he is the coolest person to walk this earth. His smugness makes your fists clench and your blood overheat with fiery.

“Okay, before this gets into an argument, where are we going to work?” Brandon chips in with his hand on your shoulder. You take a deep breath, trying to think rationally.

“You can work at my place,” Tom licks his pink lips and infamously smirks again. Your body is so hot that it melted your brain into a mush of incomprehension, so you can’t even respond to his idiocracy before Brandon very unsurely says why not.

Fuck.

–

“Welcome to The House,” Tom introduces dramatically while flinging the door open for you both. You swear that was the most gentleman-like thing he’s ever done.

“At least come up with an original name,” You roll your eyes again like your body has been programmed to every time Tom opens his mouth.

“So much attitude for such a tiny person,” he taunts, shutting the door behind him. Brandon walks quickly into the dining room with his backpack, leaving himself out of the very heart-felt conversation between you and Tom. Your jaw ticks a tad at his words. “I love when you roll your eyes.”

Your face scrunches in disgust, but can’t help it when your curiosity slips from your mouth, “Why?”

“Because then I know I’ve done my job,” A hint of a smirk rises on his lips while your eye twitches at his arrogance.

“And what is your job? To annoy the shit out of me? ‘Cause if it is, congratulations! You get promoted every time you talk to me,” No matter how badly you want to, you resist the urge to roll your eyes just because you know how much it would please him. Even with your irate words, that all-too familiar smirk lingers like he’s proud.

He likes when you fight back because no one ever does. It’s easy for him. Too easy sometimes. Yeah, he likes when he can sleep with a girl without having to try too hard, but once he met you, he realized he liked a bit of a fight. Tom craved the passion and bubbling tension that strangled the air between you both. It was thrilling and enthralling, and he knew with enough poking and prodding, you would snap. That was his job; to make you snap.

“Close, but no cigar.”

“What are you, like, a hundred?”

“I’m surprised you’re still talking to me, princess.” There’s that name. That stupid fucking name. You know that he throws that title around like candy to women. You know that the sweet undertone of the tag is what it does for them and what gets them in his bed at the end of the night. It angered you that he thought you were so easy, so gullible. But no, you weren’t going to let him smooth-talk you all the way to his bedroom. Even if it was just upstairs…

“Actually, I’m not anymore,” You finished the conversation and walked away. After you stopped facing him, your eyes immediately went to the back of your head in a dramatic roll. As you enter the dining room, you are suddenly aware of the heat radiating off your skin. You lift a hand up to your beaming cheeks, which turn out to be flaming with the fury bubbling in your blood.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Brandon asks, being the nice guy he is. You swallowed and inhaled.

“Yeah. Let’s get started.”

–

Not even ten minutes later, Tom comes bustling into the room. He says he was just checking up on you guys, but he was just trying to annoy you. After half an hour, he comes back again, saying something about the last football game and if you two have watched it. You inhale a few times, squeezing your pencil in your hand. He walks into the kitchen ajar and grabs something from the fridge.

“Tom, can you leave us alone? We have to get this done by Friday.”

“But it’s my house. I should be able to go wherever I want in my own house.”

“You literally invited us here, so we could work in peace!” You didn’t mean to shout, but Tom brought out the worst in you.

“I never said anything about peace–”

“Look, Tom, just please leave us alone, yeah?” You lowered your voice a bit, hoping maybe he would hear you. To your surprise, he licks his lips and re-enters the dining room, standing near your chair at the end of the table.

“All you had to do was say please, princess,” he winks and struts away, and somewhere inside of you is annoyed that he got the last word. But a big part of you was…affected. Badly. You never thought in a million years the name princess coming from his mouth would hit you, but for some odd reason, it did. Maybe it was because of his impromptu alliteration. Or the wink–no, it couldn’t have been the wink. Maybe it was the octave of his voice? You noticed how it got a tad deeper when he talked to you compared to how he did earlier. Were you looking too far into it?

Fuck, now he’s got you in your head.

Was this his job all along?

“How does that idea sound?” Brandon’s voice pulled you from your overwhelming thoughts, but not fast enough.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch what you said,” You apologize with a head shake. He repeats, and you write it down. This goes on for about an hour or so; you two throwing ideas back and forth.

You tried to find middle ground. You assumed you would be writing some sci-fi romance, and you were correct. Although you wanted to be there in the moment, you couldn’t stop thinking about Tom, and just the thought infuriated you. If you were present, you wouldn’t have complied and agreed to some of Brandon’s suggestions without more of a fight. The more ideas he spouted out, the weirder they got.

“Robots…God, I love writing about robots. Robots falling in love?” he pauses for a moment. “while trying to take over the world! You have to write that one down.”

You wrote it down, but your mind was moving differently than your body. As he suggested more topics, you zoned out completely. He was clearly very into the process and you…couldn’t have been farther from it. Like an echo, Tom lingered in your mind.

Where was he? What was he doing? Was he having sex right now? Why wasn’t he bothering you anymore?

You might have told him please, but Tom is just as stubborn as they come. You can’t say much though because you’re just as stubborn yourself. Maybe that’s why you two always bicker. You wondered if he fought with anyone else like how he battled you. Was he trying to make you mad just for the fun of it, or did he want something more?

Was there really a list? You can’t be the only person who’s considered that, right?

“Oh no.” The two words out of Brandon’s mouth brought you back because they were different from one of his absurd ideas. His eyes are staring at his phone screen once you start focusing in on him.

“What’s wrong?” You asked.

“It’s…a family emergency. Shit, Y/N, I have to go up North. Like right now. Do you think we can pick this up in a few days?” He wavers out nervously and clearly full of panic.

“Y-yeah, of course!” You blink rapidly at the sudden change and nod to every word without really thinking.

“Are you sure?” He questions, but he’s already standing up from the table with his backpack tight around his shoulders and his keys in his hand.

“Yes, now go!” You flee him from the house, so he can get a head-start on his drive. As his car zooms down the street, your eyes wander to the empty driveway of the house. And then it gets you wondering again.

How are you going to get to your dorm?

“Fuck,” You grumble in the evening air, the sun barely beginning to set.

You had no money on you, and of course your card wasn’t linked to your phone, so you couldn’t buy an Uber, Lyft, or anything. You creep your way back into the frat house with slugged shoulders. You drop yourself onto the small couch as silence roams around. You never in your life thought that a frat house, or any house with just guys, would be this quiet. It makes sense that they’re all out though because they’re all social butterflies trying to get laid at the latest party. Woo hoo. Sense the sarcasm?

Feeling sorry for yourself, you wander around the house. You pad the entire downstairs area before making your way up the staircase. The second you touch the top step, your curiosity starts to plague you.

Where’s Tom’s room?

Yeah, okay, maybe it’s rude, but you don’t know what to do. And, come on, it’s Tom. He doesn’t care. More specifically, you don’t care. You don’t care that you’re about to snoop his room because no one is here and it’s not like he’s going to know, right?

There’s about five bedrooms upstairs and three of the doors were open. With delicacy, you barely pushed open the doors that weren’t closed completely as if they would creak loudly and someone would find you. You peeked in a few rooms, glancing at the designs to see if you saw something that related to Tom. None of the rooms seemed fitting.

And then, like a lightbulb, you remembered that Tom was the leader, or whatever bullshit they called him. You know the title only ever gave him an ego boost. In most cases, the “leader” gets the biggest bedroom, well, at least that’s what it was like at your friend’s sorority house. So, testing your theory, you trail down the carpeted hallway until you reach the last room, which you assumed was the largest. Turning the knob, your eyes stare at the master bedroom before you.

Called it.

The room had white walls, just like the others. But Tom had a lot more personality through his decorating than you would have thought and it was…surprisingly…well-kept. Maybe it wasn’t his room.

As you stepped a foot inside, you got the hint that his favorite color was blue; navy bed sheets, baby blue desk lamp, midnight-colored nightstand, cyan desk chair, and a few other accessories that solidified the idea. Your eyes stay glued to his bed for a moment. It was a little ruffled, like he had been sleeping in it, but you knew that bed had been through more than just sleeping. You never thought you’d feel bad for a mattress and some sheets.

Before you know it, you’re traveling towards his desk, which was white (everything was very randomly assorted). You nibble on your bottom lip, debating on if it’s worth digging through the four drawers to find the one thing that’s been nagging you for months.

The list.

Something deep inside of you is warning you that searching through his belongings is a bad idea, but there’s really nothing that stops you from pulling open the first compartment. Carefully, you shift around the assortment of pens and pencils until you admit there’s nothing but those in there. Moving on to the second drawer below the first, it’s extremely heavy. Then you realize the weight is from three hefty textbooks that look completely untouched.

Makes sense.

In the next top drawer, there’s nothing useful beside clean, unused binder paper. Losing all hopes of being right, you check the final drawer. Just in case.

You didn’t know what you were going to find inside of there. But whatever you may have thought, it wasn’t this.

In the deep compartment was a bunch of clothes. Women’s clothes. A few shirts, even some socks, but mainly bras and panties. You almost touched them to sift through it, but immediately retracted your hand before doing so, assuming these articles haven’t been cleaned. Your face is frozen in disgust at the pile as if your gaze is going to burn all of it away.

“I thought it would take a lot more work to get you into my bedroom,” A deep accent says, causing you to jot and slam the drawer closed.

From your crouch, you fall to the ground, heart racing erratically at the sight of Tom. Every nerve of your body was screaming in alert because you thought you were alone. Layers of goosebumps litter your skin when you visually take in his appearance; frizzy, damp hair, dark blue briefs, and a white towel draped over his buff shoulder. You swallow every bit of your saliva and leave your mouth completely dry as your eyes shamefully trail down his entire physique.

It’s not like he’s trying to hide anything.

“It’s a bit rude to stare, yeah?” he ticks, using the towel to dry his hair a bit more. His briefs were a little tight, and you wondered if they were the wrong size. Especially from your seat on the floor, you got the perfect view of his bulge outline. Your stomach burned and your eyes couldn’t stop blinking, trying to make the image go away, but it didn’t. It was real. At this point, he’s basically just giving you a free show. You mentally hated yourself for enjoying every second of it.

Stop it. Now, how are you going to get out of this?

“What were you looking for?” Tom asks almost innocently with a lick of his pink lips, trying to hold back a little smirk. Tom liked watching you snap, but he loved when you were flustered. He loves watching you get embarrassed because you feel hot all over. It’s a sight to see.

“Something to get you arrested,” You reply just as lightly, trying to hide your startledness before awkwardly pushing yourself on your feet. You try to keep your eyes away from him, but it’s difficult when his body is practically glistening in all its chiseled glory.

“Like what? A gun?” he jokes with a charming smile, slowly striding closer to you. Your breathing staggered a tad, but you kept your composure. Mostly.

He honestly looked like he had a gun in his briefs.

He laughs.

“I hope you know it’s not a gun, princess,” That lingering smirk is plastered on his arrogant face again and you wanted to punch it off of him. You couldn’t believe yourself for thinking out loud, especially because it was the last thing you wanted him to hear. You knew it was only an ego-booster. Your entire body flushes in overwhelming heat, wondering how you’re ever going to escape his looming presence.

“I-I obviously know that’s not a gun, Thomas,” You grind your molars at your stuttering because it makes you look and sound weak. Your trembling fingers turn into heated fists that have been ignited by only one thing; your arousal.

“Thomas? That’s a new one,” While you’re stuck in place, Tom doesn’t shy away from inching closer towards you. You don’t even realize it, but you’re holding your breath. “Are you okay, Y/N? You look a bit…flushed.”

Your heart unconsciously stammers against your chest, attempting to find an outlet. But there is none. Just like there is no escape from Tom as he stands in front of you unmoving. He’s so close, impossibly so, that your pounding heart is lurching towards his.

“It’s…hot in here,” You reply with an observation. Your voice was whispering as if your voice was afraid to speak any louder. With his proximity he could probably hear every heated pump of your blood.

“Like the song,” Tom smirks because he knows the real reason why you’re all hot and bothered. It’s something deeper than the temperature of his bedroom (because it really wasn’t that warm). “You know it, right?”

“Yeah, who doesn’t?” You almost roll your eyes before you stop yourself.

“Remind me, what’s the next lyric?”

A wave of heat crashes over your neck at his words, deep and low. Your stomach was burning with desire while your clit was throbbing in your underwear. You never would have thought that you’d be turned on by Tom, but you were doing only the impossible today.

Escaping this situation has left your mind. The only thing in your head now is staying in it.

“Take off all your clothes,” A breathless sound wavers out of your throat and you’re surprised you were even able to respond. Tom’s face is smug, almost proud at how flushed you are. His hand reaches up and ever-so delicately traces over your jawline. It was so gentle, but because he was finally touching you, you nearly moaned. You’ve never needed someone so badly before, and you never thought the person you’d be needing the most would be Tom.

You keep thinking that, but it’s just so hard to comprehend the idea of anything Tom.

“Is that something you want?” Tom’s husky voice fans over your heated skin as his fingers trail down your neck. Your chest raises up and down, and even if you’re trying to fight the feeling, you can’t. Your entire body wants him–no, damn-near craves him–to the point where you can’t even speak. Your subconsciousness hates you because you know how much he is just loving this. You hate to give him such satisfaction. “D’you want to strip? Right here in front of me? Or do you want me to do it for you? Because–”

“Yes,” You whisper with your eyes facing his chest, too afraid to stare into his lust-taken eyes.

“No,” he says, and for a moment when he took a breath, you thought he’d just rejected you. “I need to hear you say it all. I need to hear you tell me what you want. Tell me how bad you want it. I bet I can give it to you. I’ve been waiting long enough.”

His words practically made you a puddle at his feet, but they also made you want to slap him with those heavy textbooks until he learned some manners. Has he really been waiting for you? Or is that just another one of his lines? One that he uses on every single girl he gets in his bed?

Your mind might have cared at any other time, but your body overruled.

“I want…” Your mind was filled with so many possibilities, it was crowding your brain. Tom’s hand that was tracing your jawline then cupped your neck gently, causing you to sigh. You couldn’t resist swallowing all of your saliva again along with your pride. Because you were about to do something really stupid. If you were in a clear mindset, this would have never happened, you’re sure of it. But common sense isn’t here to guide you right now; only desire and lust. “I want you to fuck me, Tom. Hard. Harder than you’ve ever fucked anybody before.”

“Not quite what I was looking for, but I’ll get you there.”

Tom doesn’t hesitate to wrap his hand completely around your neck while crashing his lips to yours. They mush together so sloppily, you could barely call it a kiss. But, damn, did it feel good. Fire and passion laced your lips, and it was so intoxicating that you thought you would overdose on his euphoria. Your mind couldn’t even react properly while your body was going haywire. One of your hands snaked up to the nape of his neck while the other was squeezing his naked bicep tightly.

The proximity of your bodies was about to make you pass out from a heat stroke.

In the misty moment, he leads you towards the bed. If you’d known better, you would have pushed him and told him to fuck off because he would not get to sleep with you. But you didn’t know better. Matter of fact, the only thing you knew right now was Tom Tom Tom.

When your knees hit the edge of the mattress, your body goes tumbling backwards, causing your heart to race even more than it had been. You break the kiss in a gasp, but Tom doesn’t let you fall too far, holding you securely with one hand on your waist and the other on your neck.

“Already falling for me. It’s a bit soon, yeah?” Tom flirts condescendingly with a single chuckle, standing on the edge after dropping you onto the bed. Good, you thought. You didn’t want delicacy anymore. You wanted roughness. You couldn’t allow yourself to be sweet and intimate with Tom. Not if you didn’t want to fall in love with him or get attached.

Not that that was possible.

“Fuck you.”

“I’m trying to, princess,” Even with the insult, his smirk lingers on like a tattoo. Although you despise that ridiculous nickname, your body didn’t care. When the word rolled off his tongue, your stomach erupted in needy desire and your cunt clenched around nothing. Tom isn’t new to a woman’s arousal. He knows when someone is turned on. It appears in their voice, their body obviously, but always in their eyes. And that lust was laced within you: in your voice, body, and eyes.

“You’re loving this, aren’t you?” he taunts, hovering over your trembling body while your mind still tries to come to terms with what the fuck is happening.

“Of course not,” You grumble, but it comes out all quiet.

“Keep tellin’ yourself that. Maybe you’ll be surprised,” he infamously winks before traveling down your neck in harsh kisses. You try to withhold the whimpers he’s causing because it's impossible with the amount of pleasure you’re feeling.

Kneeling on both sides of you, Tom’s hands weave their way under your top, exploring your torso mindlessly. His palms are heavy and rough, the only type you wanted to feel when it came to him. You were wearing a simple bralette that you would feel his fingers trace over impatiently.

“Take it off,” You moaned when he nimbled a bit hard behind your ear. You felt him breathe a chuckle, and you just knew he was smirking. As per usual.

“That’s not very nice,” Tom tsks, halting all his movements and hovering over your flushed face. You were in a daze and he hasn’t even done anything yet. Your core was on fire waiting desperately to be taken care of by the so-called “sex god.”

“I didn’t want it to be,” Grumbling, you grind on your teeth again in impatience. “This was a mistake–”

In complete irritation, despite your body’s desires, you force yourself to sit up. However, Tom does not let that slide. Within seconds your arms are being pinned above your head and he is straddling your hips snuggly. There was no escaping him.

In this position, you could feel his bulge barely pressing against your lower tummy. The thickness nearly made you moan because you were so desperate for it, but God knows you would never get on your knees and beg for it. That’s the last thing you’ll ever do, especially for someone like Tom.

“Slow down there, princess. We haven’t even started yet, and you’re already trying to do the walk of shame.”

“Because you’re being an asshole!”

“I just wanted you to say please, princess,” Tom says innocently, but the most devilish smile rises upon his lips. It’s cruel how contradicting the two are, but you loved it. It spiraled you on even more. “Now, I don’t really care what you say.”

Following his word, Tom didn’t listen to a single word you said. Even though they only consisted of calling him a dickhead, asshole, and fucker, but that’s not the point. Before you know it, your clothes are stripped completely from you and you’re basically in the same predicament as Tom. He clips off your bralette and hastily rips it from your body, tossing it to some unknown place on his surprisingly well-kept floor.

Your breath hinges at the new vulnerability. Tom licks his lips lustfully at the sight of your near-naked body, but doesn’t say anything. No two-cented comment or some witted joke. Nope. Nothing. Something inside of you tingled.

His aggressive hands roughly massaged your breasts. He twisted and flicked your nipples with no care in the world, and that’s just how you liked it. You released a breathy moan when your nipples reached their peak, but he didn’t stop his miniature torture. Mindlessly, you bucked your hips up, right into him.

“Getting off just from some nipple play? God, you must be desperate,” Tom dryly chuckles.

“Shut up,” You groan when his mouth latches onto your raw nipple, intensifying the pain and pleasure that’s firing up in your body.

Tom’s wandering tongue finally makes it down to your underwear, which is soaked through with your arousal. You’re embarrassed to discover his reaction because you know it’s only going to make him even more air-headed than he already is. Your legs are tightly closed, but you widen them just a tad more. Tom isn’t having it.

“Open. I want to see what I do to you.”

You swear your heart skipped a beat because you nearly fucking died right there. Annoyingly obeying him, you open your legs more, giving him more access to your vulnerability. Also, giving him more ammunition to use to make fun of you. You knew for a fact that you would regret all of this in the future, but right now, for some fucking reason, you didn’t give a damn.

“Fuck,” Tom growled so low that you almost didn’t hear him. His face was now so close to you that you could practically feel his grumble vibrate through your thighs and straight to your cunt. “This is what I do to you? This whole time? And you’ve been running away…how selfish of you. To keep this from me.”

“I’m selfish? You are definitely the last person that’s–” The power of your words are cut short when he slides down your panties without hesitation. “–able to say that.”

“How about you stop saying stuff and let me get on with it?”

“Oh, please! Like I’m the one that’s stopping you.”

“Look who learned how to say please,” he smirks, hands prying open your thighs even wider than before. You inhale sharply as your cunt opens completely for him, dripping in your arousal. “Now, shut the fuck up unless you’re crying my name. Got it, princess?”

In the midst of an eyeroll, Tom places his mouth onto your clit. Places might be the wrong word. He latched his mouth hungrily onto you, like he would starve if he didn’t have you right now. Your eyes squeeze shut in shock, trying to decipher the incredible feeling of his mouth on you. Slurping and licking, Tom devours you whole and you can’t stop your body from squirming all over the place from the overwhelming euphoria.

To make you even more insane and to make you lose a bit more of your brain cells, Tom slyly slips one of his fingers in your cunt. It was undeniably soaking, so he slid it in easily. His pace is rigorous, thrusting in and out while sucking harshly on your clit.

Like Tom had requested, you were moaning. At first, it was just a few noises, but then, it turned into his name. The only word you seemed to know was Tom as you wailed and cried from his attack on your cunt. Even as your hips bucked into his face, he held you securely down with his forearm and continued to ram into you until you eventually came.

When you came, it was like you were hit by a freight train. Your orgasm slammed over you so powerfully that you saw stars for a moment. Oh, and you squirted, which you’ve never done before. Your wetness dripped down Tom’s face, and it was kind of funny to you, even if you felt a little bad about it (not really). But Tom had that tattooed-smirk on his face that let you know he was enjoying himself too much. Conceited as always.

“Didn’t know you were a squirter,” Tom wipes away your orgasm with his shower towel while your entire face goes hot again.

“Neither did I.”

“First time? What a pleasure.”

“Oh, shut up,” You roll your eyes, forgetting that he actually likes that. He smiles, but hides it with a smirk. Then Tom pulls down his tight briefs. Looking at his equipment, you nearly choked. It was thick and veiny, and the tip was an angry pink.

You wanted him inside of you, but if this was going to be the only time you do this, might as well get your fill.

“Actually,” You start, heart thumping rapidly. “Can I…”

You didn’t even really ask, you just slowly lowered yourself onto the floor. Tom didn’t stop you, just watched as you kneeled. Your eyes flickered from his eyes to his cock, waiting for him to terminate your movements.

“I’d never say no to a blowjob, princess.”

Rolling your eyes, your warm fingertips rub over his leaking slit. He hisses at the sudden contact, but moans gutturally when your tongue touches him. You lick up his shaft, soaking the entire surface with your saliva. Tom’s hefty hands find themselves tangled in your hair, using it for balance.

Once you take him deeper into your mouth, the urge to pump himself down your throat gets tougher. You hollow out your cheeks, slurping up and down until your face is burning. With confidence, you push him lower down your throat until you gag around his length.

“Fuck, you take me so well,” he groans, his sounds echoing on his blue walls. His stomach contracts, abs tensing as he senses his high approaching.

A few tears twinkle in your eyes, and to kill Tom even more, you decide to stare up at him through your lashes. Your expression appears innocent, but he knows you’re anything but with the way you’re taking his cock amazingly.

When Tom can’t restrain himself anymore, his hips start bucking into your face. He feels you moan against him even if he caught you off guard, sending a wave of vibration through his whole body euphorically. His grip on your hair tightens while the tears that were brimming your eyes start to fall down like a waterfall.

The picture of you crying while his cock was shoved down your throat was enough to get him off through the rest of college. Maybe even the rest of his 20s. You wanted it rough, and you took him like a champ.

With your fingernails digging into his thighs, Tom was sure to come soon. And in the next few moments, he did. He was so blindsided that he didn’t warn you, didn’t tell you to get off of him so you didn’t choke on his cum. But then, you swallowed him without any hesitation.

Tom was nearly hard again because of it.

His remaining orgasm leaked from the corners of your lips, which you wiped away with the towel on the bed. Tom was trying to not appear dumbstruck while you were trying to rid the tears from your face, even though you were almost positive that Tom got off on them.

You had done a lot of blowjobs and deepthroating throughout your college years because again, men aren’t too nice or generous. You just so happen to be both.

As you stand up from the ground, Tom doesn’t wait to push you onto the mattress again.

“That was…” he starts before groaning quietly. Was he reliving it? “I need to be deep inside of your cunt.”

You blinked at the suddenness of his words. He couldn’t give you a single compliment? At this point, you weren’t going to waste anymore time fighting about it. Looking at his cock, he was basically hard again. That seemed like a compliment in itself. His angry tip and thick veins looked like if he knew how to use his dick, it could potentially destroy you. Isn’t that what you wanted, though?

Hell yes.

“Get on with it then,” You pressed, trying to widen your legs a bit more. After your first orgasm and Tom’s, you’re not as shaky as you’d been in the beginning. You got some of your wits back.

“Impatient much? Didn’t the palace ever teach you manners?” Tom jokes with a knowing smirk before hovering over you. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes irritatingly at his extra comment. His cock thumped over your clit a few times, causing you to gasp at the weighted feeling. You didn’t even know he had put a condom on, but the texture of his cock felt like latex, so you assumed.

Even though you told him to get on with it, he doesn’t. Tom’s lips kiss and bite your neck while he continuously slaps your clit with his heavy cock. Whimpers elicited from your mouth at the friction; it wasn’t a lot, but you were still sensitive from your last orgasm. Every time his dick hit the hood of your clit, shots of electricity fired inside of you.

“T-Tom!” You shouted annoyed, attempting to get his attention. But of course, your voice came out as a wavering moan and you saw his ego fly into the sky like a rocket. You can never win, can you? “Can you just fuck me already? What’s with all the foreplay?”

“Can you just shut the fuck up?” Tom stops all of his movements and grasps your throat in his hand. You glare into his blackened-eyes with an angered lust that he’s never seen before. But he likes it. He really likes it. “I’ll fuck you. Yeah, and I’ll keep fucking you until I’m done.”

His last words come out as a growl, one that was so primal and aggressive, you couldn’t stop the arousal that leaked from you. Finally, Tom pushes himself inside of you with no mercy.

Tom’s fingers are still wrapped around your throat, his pressure on and off so you get a millisecond to breathe. His cock slams into you at a meticulous and quick pace. Even with the condom on, you can feel every inch of his length sliding through you like it was raw.

You couldn’t even imagine how good it would feel if it was raw.

With no warning, Tom begins to flick his hips up into you. A broken croak elicits from your trapped throat while your cunt squeezes his cock harshly.

“Fuckin’ love this, aren’t you? Love how I fuck you? Love how I talk to you like you’re nothing?” His voice is guttural and low, laced with lust and degradation. “You’re just a hole f’me. A hole so fucking tight I can barely get my big cock through.”

You hate how egotistical he is, but your core is still on fire with every one of his words. He releases pressure on your throat for a bit longer, and you cry out in moans. His now free hand gropes your breast, slapping and twisting the nipple without care. Your back arched so aggressively, you thought you might cramp up.

Tom rammed into you like there was no tomorrow. His balls slammed against you while his light pubic hair tickled your clit and gave you just a bit more stimulation. Everything was making you float. Your body was just taking everything he was giving you and you were loving it. All the other times you’ve had sex they were gentle and sweet, but now, you’ve realized that it was just boring.

Tom somehow manages to curve his cock inside of you in such a way that it hits you in the perfect spot. A scream of his name flies out of your mouth before you clench snuggly around his shaft again. His name is the only thing your lips know.

“Daddy! Fuck,” You gasp at your own words, the title just slipping out. Your hand covers your mouth in a haste, shutting yourself up before you say anything else. Your eyes screw shut in embarrassment, hoping he didn’t hear you. But it was hard not to when you fucking screamed it. The neighbors probably heard you.

When you got too deep into it, you tended to say things like that. However, you’re usually able to compose yourself before you let it slip. But the way Tom is absolutely destroying you gives you no time to think, no time to do anything but feel.

“Of course, you’re fucking filthy. If I knew you were such a slut, I would’ve made you beg for my cock,” Tom growls in your neck, pounding into you with no remorse. Your mind is in a haze and your body is still on fire from embarrassment and passion. You tried your hardest to hold in your moans after satisfying him with that title, but Tom won’t let you.

He rips your hand away from your mouth, and for leverage, you instantly grip onto his shoulders. With each hostile thrust, your nails dig deeper into his skin, creating red curves all over him. Somewhere inside of you felt a sense of pride because you know that there will be marks later on. Is this what Tom feels like all the time?

Your cunt clutches his dick again, but this time your orgasm is near. Your hand travels down in between you two to rub your clit, but Tom beats you to it. His rough fingertips violently circle the little nub, sending your eyes rolling backwards. When you feel his pace slowing just a tad, you assume that he’s just as close.

“Daddy,” You mewl, scratching his arm as your hips thrust up towards his. Yeah, you were pretty deep.

But so was he.

“Know you’re close, baby. Feel you squeezin’ m’cock,” Tom grumbles gravely in your ear, and his voice sends a tingle down your arched spine. Although it was rough and raggedy, it was the softest he’s been to you all night. “Come, right fucking now, princess.”

Yeah, you might despise him outside of the bedroom, and maybe a little bit in it, but who are you to disobey such a thing?

Your entire body tenses and your heart stops. You don’t even feel yourself breathing as your orgasm washes over you like a never-ending tsunami. Your brain is overwhelmingly fuzzy, your breasts are sore, and your cunt is aching from all it. But you loved every bit of it. It was something you didn’t know you wanted, but when you got it, it changed your views and feelings on everything.

Sliding in and out of you slickly, Tom comes soon after you with a string of profanities falling from his pretty lips. Even if he was conceited, he was a striking man. His body was hand-crafted by God in addition to going to the gym every day. When his muscles contracted over you, you couldn’t stop fawning over him. And his face was remarkable, it was unfair how someone could be given so many good social-standard genes. You wished you could say it was all a rumor. But it was hard to insult his looks when everything he gloated about was true. It was just annoying that he was aware of it.

Funny, right?

“Y/N,” Tom repeated your name over you, hoping you would wake up in the present moment. You were clearly in your head and Tom was a little concerned to say the least. Maybe he sleeps with a bunch of different women and maybe he’s arrogant, but that doesn’t mean he’s heartless.

Blinking several times, you snap out of whatever mindless daze you’ve been in. He’d already thrown away the condom and put on some boxers, not briefs. He gently wiped any excess orgasm away with his towel, your body subtly squirming from the stimulation. When Tom finally sees you coming to your senses, he slowly leans away from you, assuming you want space.

“Wait,” You find yourself saying without knowing what you want him to wait for. When his body rose from yours, you felt cold. It was so uncomforting, knowing that you’ve been so warm this entire time. Tom stares down at your naked body and watches goosebumps fan your skin. Your nipples pebble and stomach contracts. You feel so vulnerable.

“What?” Tom asks a little breathily, one arm holding himself up for balance. He couldn’t really say anything else. For the first time in a while, he’s completely starstruck by you. Your bare figure with your lion-like frizz of hair on his bed, tangled in his blue sheets is a sight he’ll never unsee. He honestly thinks he needs a moment to collect himself before staring at your beauty again.

Have you always been this beautiful?

“It’s…cold.”

“Now, it’s cold? I’m not the weatherman, princess,” Tom smiles like a child with a slight tilt. Your eyes roll like usual, but a smile is tugging at your lips this time. “Maybe you should put some clothes on.”

“Maybe you should shut up,” You retaliate, pushing yourself up. You’re face to face with Tom, merely inches away from each other.

“I love when you fight me,” he compliments, moving his head in little shakes like he adores you. Your heart skipped a beat at his words.

“Why? Because I put you in your place?”

“Something like that,” Tom sits next to you on the bed while you wrap yourself in his sheets. You really didn’t feel like wandering around the entire room completely naked with his eyes watching you. “Also, what were you looking for earlier? I know it wasn’t a gun.”

That familiar wave of heat flushes your skin and your mouth gets all dry. Are you sweating?

“Pfft, I don’t even remember. Must have slipped my mind,” Out of all the things you could have said, you decided to act stupid. Good going.

“C’mon, it can’t be that bad. I’ve probably heard worse,” Your wide eyes meet his, full of embarrassment. “Yeah, I’m assuming it’s some rumor thing you heard, right?”

“Yeah…”

“Tell me.” You’ve already had sex with him, and that’s the lowest you could go. So, it can’t be worse than that.

“I was looking for the list.”

“Not even a list but the list? Must be some pretty special list,” he smirks with an arrogant lick of his lips. One of your hands rubs your arm for comfort while you explain the entirety of what you’ve heard. It took a few minutes, but Tom was listening to every word. He nodded along with a sly smirk on his lips.

“So, it’s a list of all the people I want to sleep with. Is this list in order?” Out of all the questions he could have asked, that’s what he said? Maybe he is completely conceited.

“I guess so. I assumed you could rearrange it if you’d like.”

“Are the women rated?”

“What? That’s disgusting!” Physically writing down how well someone was at sex was pathetic to you. But the curious cat in your mind was wondering one thing:

What would Tom rate you?

“Well, if I had a list, you’d probably be near the top.”

There is no fucking way you said that out loud.

“You did, though,” Tom laughs while your fists clench his sheets embarrassingly. You fall backwards onto the mattress, covering your face with the bedding.

Why are you still in his room? Why have you not felt the urge to flee yet?

Your skin was burning from embarrassment and your heart was beating sporadically, but your breathing was steady and your mind was decently clear. So, why were you still lying in Tom Holland’s bed naked without a single thought of leaving? Did you…like it?

Or maybe because you have no way home and what’s the rush?

“Hey,” Tom says while you’re still beneath the covers. “Are you still cold?”

“Yes,” You mumble quietly.

“Do you…want to take a bath? Or a shower if that’s weird–” Your head slowly peeks out from the navy blue, finding Tom’s wandering eyes. His large hand was scratching the back of his curly head. A single tingle shot through your body, making you a degree warmer. It was the first time you’ve seen him even a little bit unsure of himself, and that made you smile. Just a tad because it let you know that maybe you’ve made him snap out of whatever bubble he lives in. Even just for a moment.

Discarding the sheet, you sit up on your knees at the edge of the bed. Like before, you’re face to face with Tom, and you can see the struggle in his eyes to not look down at your bare breasts. It nearly makes you break out into a fit of laughter, but you carry on.

“I’ll go with the bath,” You whisper seductively and don’t hide the way you stare down at his pink lips. You couldn’t help it. They just look so kissable.

What is wrong with you!

“I’ll, uh, leave you to it then,” Tom coughs awkwardly. He’s never been like this before. He’s good with the flirting, seducing, foreplay, sex, and even the aftermath of leaving right after. But the second it even gets remotely romantic or intimate, he shuts it down quickly before anything else can happen. Though right now, he’s the one who made it sweet and offered you a bath. A bath is cute and domestic, which is so unlike Tom. He would have never offered something like that before, especially with no one home. He should’ve just kicked you out.

What’s different?

“Oh,” You look at the floor in pretend disappointment. Just to note, you’re still completely naked, standing in front of his bathroom door. You’re so glad he has his own bathroom. “You don’t want to join me?”

Tom blinks, wondering if you’re being serious. He never thought you out of all people would want to have sex in the bathtub, let alone with him. He swallows, trying to keep his cool.

“Yeah, obviously, I was just letting you get a headstart,” Tom rapidly removes his boxers while you strut into the bathroom, shaking your ass in your trail. Streaks of curses leave his mouth while he slams the door closed, not forgetting to lock it.

For the record, the rumor was true; Tom did have a list. It was in a spot he knew no one would check; his textbooks in his desk drawer. A single sheet of paper that has a list of the girls he’s been with and the ones he wants to be with. It’s crazy how such a rumor was developed when no one knew about the list except for himself.

Yes, it was listed in order and he reorganized it whenever he needed to. That’s what erasers are for. He writes it in pencil because nothing is set in stone. It’s honestly hard for him to remember who’s in his top five right now. Yeah, Tom sounds like a complete douchebag, but he didn’t really care.

Tom said that your name would be “near the top” if he had a list. What a liar he is.

Ever since he met you, you’ve been the first on his list. You’re the only name that hasn’t been erased since he wrote it his junior year. Also, you’re the only person who has a little note on the side of her name:

1. Y/N Y/L/N -The one

Tom had a feeling that he won’t have to write any names down, or even need the paper anymore. Even if he never had a list to begin with, he would have never needed one to remember you.

—

i hope you guys liked this i worked hard!! likes, comments, and reblogs are all appreciated <3

taglist: @mrstealuregirl @bisexual-desi @sherlockstrangewolf @madsttx @graywrites20 @bradtomlovesya @princesspannnn @sageisswaggg @purplerose291 @lnmp89 @crybabyddl @pretty-npeach @marine-mayday @aerangi @justanotherpasserby-blog @tinafuentes @moniffazictress11 @eywaheardyou @alwaysclassyeagle @raajali3

crossed out= not able to tag

[waitimcomingtoo]

He Said, She Said

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Synopsis: absolute tomfoolery ensues when you and Tom suspect that the other thinks you’re dating but you’re both too shy to correct each other

Masterlist

A week after you had wrapped filming a movie with Tom, you invited him to your house to hang out. Since the love story between your characters had been the backbone of the film, you’d grown particularly close to each other during the 8 months of filming. You had spent the last 8 months acting along side Tom as his crush, then girlfriend, and then wife. This was your first time seeing each other since wrapping and there were multiple times throughout the night where you had to catch yourself before you did something that you used to do when you played his wife. It was slightly confusing to spend 8 months acting as if you were in a relationship only for it to suddenly end one day. Tom felt the same way and often found himself about to go in for a kiss before he remembered he wasn’t actually your boyfriend. You both managed to catch yourselves just in time until the end of the night.

“Text me when you get home safe.” You said as you walked Tom to your door.

“I always do.” He smiled softly at you.

You smiled in return before wrapping an arm around him to pull him into a kiss. Tom instinctively kissed you back before he could process what was happening. You pulled away after a minute and stroked his cheek with your thumb.

“Bye, T.” You waved to him before shutting your door.

Tom stood outside your door for a full minute with his lips still pursed. He touched his fingertips to his lips and sure enough felt your sticky strawberry lipgloss still lingering there.

“Now wait a damn minute.” He said to himself as his confusion settled in.

It wasn’t like this was the first time you’d kissed him, but it was the first time you’d kissed him in the absence of any cameras or scripts. A surprised smile broke out on his lips until it settled into a confused frown. He turned around and went to his car where he sat for a long time, raking every inch of his moment for the moment your friendship became something more. When he came up empty, he took out his phone and texted his groupchat.

“emergency boy call” He texted and waited until the FaceTime notification appeared on his screen.

“What’s with the late night boy call? It’s almost midnight.” Harry asked through a yawn.

“Yeah. I was already balls deep into my YouTube deep dive.” Harrison complained.

“What were you watching?” Tuwaine asked him.

“Wig installation videos.” Harrison answered. “In case I ever need to install a wig.”

“That seems like a good use of your time.” Sam snorted.

“Guys.” Tom groaned. “I did not ask for a boy call for us to talk about whether or not Harrison will be installing a wig anytime soon.”

“I could do it if I wanted to.” Harrison mumbled.

“What did you need the boy call for?” Harry brought the focus back to Tom.

“I think Y/n and I are dating.” Tom admitted and held his breath as he waited for their responses. He could previously only see his friends ceilings, but all their confused faces appeared on his screen when he said this.

“What? You think?” Harry asked.

“I thought you guys were just friends?” Sam added.

“I thought that too.” Tom replied. “But we hung out tonight and she kissed me goodbye.”

“So? Haven’t you kissed a million times?” Tuwaine wondered.

“For scenes, yeah. Never just as us.”

“Cheek kiss or lips kiss?” Harrison asked.

“Lips.“

“Well was it a peck or a smooch?” Harry questioned.

“Uh, is there a difference?” Tom frowned.

“Big time.” Harry and Harrison said in unison.

“Well how do I know the difference?” Tom wondered.

“A peck is what you give your grandmum on the cheek. A smooch is slightly longer and involves head tilting.” Harrison explained.

“I don’t know. Her tongue was in my mouth. Is that covered under the smooch umbrella?”

“DAMNNNNN.” Harry and Harrison spoke in unison again as the shouted.

“That was way past smooch territory, my guy.” Tuwaine said through a laugh.

“Then what is it?” Tom asked his friends.

“A smackeroo.” Harry shrugged.

“I was just gonna say a smackeroo.” Harrison clapped his hands.

“That was no smooch. You got snogged, mate.” Sam said and they all nodded in agreement.

“Ew.” Tom grimaced. “No one says snog anymore. What are you, Angus Thongs?”

“Who the fuck is Angus Thongs?” Harry asked after a beat of silence.

“You know. That movie. Angus Thongs and Perfect Snogging. It’s all about a girl who wants to snog Angus Thongs.”

“Mate, it’s Angus COMMA thongs COMMA and perfect snogging. The title is three separate phrases. Angus, Thongs, and Perfect Snogging.” Harry explained.

“You thought the character was named Angus Thongs?” Sam laughed. “Why would the writers give him that name? What nationality would the surname “Thongs” even come from?”

“Can we get back to the reason of the boy call? Y/n freaking smooched me and I don’t know what it means.” Tom groaned.

“And that’s never happened before?” Tuwaine asked.

“No. This was the first time she did that.”

“So maybe it was just an accident.” Sam shrugged.

“Who accidentally kisses someone on the mouth?” Harry wondered.

“Exactly. That’s why I think we started dating and I didn’t realize.”

“How could that have happened? Wouldn’t you have realized if you guys made your relationship official?” Sam asked his brother.

“I don’t know. We’re so close and our relationship gets confusing sometimes. We’ve always have this unofficial thing between us where we’re not exactly together but not exactly “just friends” either. I’ve never really known where I stood with her.”

“This might not help,” Tuwaine prefaced, “but I was shocked the first time I met her and you told me you guys were just friends. You really seemed like a couple.”

“Yeah, that definitely didn’t help, but thank you so much.” Tom smiled tightly, feeling more confused than ever.

“He’s right though. You guys don’t act like friends act. Why do you think everyone assumes you’re dating? Even mom asked me if you two were bumping uglies.” Sam brought up.

“We’re not. Or maybe we are? I don’t know. What does bumping uglies even mean?”

“You’d know if you did it.” Harrison said and the rest of the guys agreed.

“Can you think of a moment when you might’ve become a couple?” Sam asked his brother.

“There are so many moments that it could’ve been. That’s why I’m so confused.” Tom whined and rubbed his eyes.

“Well think, man.” Sam urged.

“I don’t know. Maybe the last day of shooting? She said she didn’t want anything to change between us after we stopped filming. Maybe that meant she wanted us to be together like our characters were?”

“You can’t be “maybe” dating someone.” Harrison shook his head. “You need to find out for certain if she thinks she’s in a committed relationship with you right now.”

“How am I supposed to do that?” Tom wondered.

“I’ll do it.” Harry offered and his screen went to the “pause” icon.

“How?” Tom asked him.

“I just texted her asking if you were dating.” Harry replied and returned to the FaceTime.

“What?!” Tom shrieked. “Without discussing that with me first?”

“Wait, what happened?” Harrison asked. “I was watching a Dance Moms compilation.”

“Which one?” Tuwaine asked.

“Kelly and Christi being iconic.” Harrison said with a cheeky smile.

“Classic.” Tuwaine laughed.

��Guys.” Tom groaned. “Harry went rogue and texted Y/n.”

Meanwhile, you were doing your skincare routine when you saw your phone light up with a notification. You picked it up and saw the text from Harry.

“are you and tom dating?” It read. You frowned and looked at yourself in the mirror. Harry, being Tom’s brother, should know better than anyone that you and Tom were just friends. But the fact that he asked you made you second guess yourself. You wondered if there was a possibility that Tom thought you were in a relationship.

“did he say we were?” You texted back.

“yeth” Harry responded.

“Oh shit. Why does Tom think we’re dating?” You whispered to yourself and nervously chewed on your nail. You raked your brain for a cue that you might have missed of Tom suggesting that you should be a couple. Your relationship had always been flirty and wavering on the line between romantic and platonic, so it didn’t seem impossible to you that could’ve begun a romantic relationship with him without even knowing it. The more you thought about it, the more it seemed plausible that he had suggested you should be together without actually saying those words and you had agreed to it without realizing what you agreed to. If that was the case, you felt too guilty to correct Tom and tell him you weren’t actually dating. After all, you wanted to be his girlfriend. You just wished you knew when you had become it.

“yea we are” You finally texted back.

“Update. Y/n says you’re dating.” Harry proudly announced to the FaceTime call when he saw the message on his screen.

“She did?” Tom asked in disbelief.

“Yep. So you were right. You guys are officially a thing.” Harry confirmed. Tom sunk down in his seat and felt an explosion of different emotions. On the one hand, he was thrilled to finally be in a relationship with you. On the other hand, he felt sad that he had missed the moment when your friendship became more. He wished he could remember how it happened. But little did he know, it never happened.

“I’m so happy. I just wish I knew when it started.” He told his friends.

Meanwhile, you were in your bathroom, staring at your phone, wondering the exact same thing.

“When the fuck did we start dating?” You whispered to yourself.

The next day, you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something you were missing. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t put together the moment when your relationship with Tom began. Instead of driving yourself crazy trying to remember, you decided to ask him to come over to see if you could get the information straight from the source.

“I know I just saw you last night but do you wanna come over today 🤠” You texted him.

“I’m on my way 🥵🥴🙄” He texted back within no time. You smiled to yourself and put your phone down to go get ready.

A half hour later, you heard a knock at your door that made your heart skip a beat. You smoothed your hair down before opening up your door.

“Hey you.” You smiled and leaned your cheek against your door.

“Hello darling.” He returned the smile. There was an awkward pause as neither of you knew of you were supposed to kiss or not. You both wanted to, but couldn’t tell if the other was expecting it or not. You both took a step forward, then moved back, before hesitantly moving into the middle again. Tom decided to take charge and wrapped his arm around your waist to pull you into a kiss. You felt relived that he took the initiative and wrapped both arms around his neck to kiss him back. Tom felt so excited that this was finally happening that he lifted you off the ground and brought you inside without ever breaking the kiss. You laughed against his lips as he gently set you down.

“Won’t you come in?” You said sarcastically once you broke apart.

“Why, thank you. What a lovely home you have here.” He played along as you shut the front door behind you.

“What happened here?” Tom laughed when he noticed a open box of cereal on the ground with cheerios all around it.

“Oh, I uh, I fell.” You said and looked to the side.

“Did you throw an open cereal box at a spider again?” Tom asked skeptically.

“Maybe.” You mumbled.

“Darling. Just hit it with the-“

“The smackazine. I know.” You rolled your eyes. “I just get too scared to get close enough to actually smack it.”

“You should’ve called me sooner. I would’ve demonstrated the proper way to use a smackazine.” Tom said as he rolled up a nearby magazine and hit it against his hand.

“Oh yeah? And what exactly is the proper way?” You humored him and tapped your chin.

“Just like this.” Tom said before smacking you with the rolled up magazine. You screamed and ran away from him, only encouraging him to chase you. You ran from him and jumped over the couch but he caught up to you. And grabbed you by the waist and threw you onto the couch before smacking you all over with the magazine as he straddled your waist.

“Don’t hit me! Do I look like a spider to you?” You asked and tried to hold him off of you. Tom stopped smacking you and gave you a look.

“Do you want an honest answer?”

“Hey!” You pretended to be offended and ripped the magazine out of his hands to smack him with it. He laughed and knocked it out of you hands and when you were caught off guard by it falling to the floor, he held your face in one hand and kissed you. You melted into the kiss and pulled him closer by his shirt as the confusion from the night before melted away. Now that he was here, you didn’t care about getting answers anymore. You just wanted to enjoy your time with him. You made out on your couch for a while until you needed to pull away for air.

“I’m so happy we’re finally together. I’ve wanted this for a long time.” You said in a soft voice as you traced patterns on his cheek with your fingernail.

“So did I. I had no idea you felt the same.” Tom said as he stared into your eyes with a soft smile.

“I didn’t either at first. I wasn’t sure if I really liked you or if I was just caught up in the magic of filming. But I missed kissing you and acting like your girlfriend the second we wrapped. That’s when I knew my feelings were real.”

“So we started dating after we wrapped?” Tom whispered to himself as pieces of the puzzle fell into place.

“What was that?” You asked.

“I just said I knew it right away.” He quickly covered up. “I liked you from the day we met. I just never imagined you’d like me back. That’s why I never officially asked you out.”

“I knew it. That’s why I didn’t realize when we started dating. It’s because he never officially asked me out.” You thought but didn’t say out loud.

“You didn’t need to. I just knew.” You shrugged and smiled wider.

“I had absolutely no idea and he can never know that.” You thought inside your head but kept your smile.

“She can never know that I never actually asked her out. I’m glad she thinks I did so that I never actually had to do it, but she can never know the truth.” Tom thought to himself. You noticed from his expression that he was deep in thought and touched his face to get his attention.

“What are you thinking about?” You asked as you pushed some hair off his forehead. Tom snapped back to reality and smiled shyly.

“You. And how long I’ve waited to do this.” He said before connecting your lips in a kiss again. This time, it was interrupted by his phone buzzing.

“Oh. It’s my mum.” He read off his phone.

“What did she say?”

“She said Harry told her about us and now she wants a family dinner.” He said as the color drained from his face. The thought of sitting down for a family dinner where his brothers knew the truth about the ambiguity of the beginning of your relationship while you and his mom were in the dark put a pit of dread in his stomach.

“Aw. When?”

“Next Saturday. We don’t have to do it, though.” He said and hoped you’d agree.

“No, I’d love to.” You told him, making him gulp.

“You would?”

“Totally. It’ll make her happy and I love spending time with your family. It can be our first dinner date as an official couple.”

“All right. I’ll tell her yes.” Tom gulped again and reluctantly agreed to the dinner. He didn’t know how, but he knew the truth would come out at the dinner. That meant he had exactly a week to figure out how your relationship began or he’s have nothing to say when his mom asked at the dinner.

“Perfect.” You smiled, having no idea about the turmoil Tom was going through over this. He decided to push it from his mind and worry about it when he had to.

Tom ended up staying over the entire day despite having spent the whole day with you the day before. You cooked dinner together and felt like a couple that had been married for years instead of the new couple that you were. There was laughing, kissing, and a closeness that didn’t exist when you were just friends only a day ago. You loved this new relationship, but you couldn’t stop wondering when it began.

You ended up on the couch again after eating and laid on top of each other as you talked about whatever came to mind. You lost track of time as you chatted and eventually felt yourself growing tired. When you let out a yawn, Tom checked the time on his phone.

“Damn, it’s 1 am already? I should probably get going. I don’t want to keep you up any longer.” Tom said as he got off the couch.

“You don’t have to go.” You said and tugged him back onto the couch.

“I don’t? Don’t you want to go to sleep?” He asked genuinely. You didn’t make eye contact with him as you toyed with a loose string on your jumper.

“Well, I was just thinking. You would go home after hanging out when we were just friends. But since we’re dating now….” You trailed off and slowly looked into his eyes.

“I could spend the night?” He asked when he realized what you were hinting at.

“Only if you-“

“Yes.” Tom said immediately, making you laugh.

“Sorry. I meant, yes, I’d love that.” He said in a calmer tone as his heart beat out of his chest.

“Okay. Good.” You smiled coyly. “We could watch a movie or something.”

“Uh huh. A movie. Sounds good.” Tom was barely listening as he never took his eyes off you. You scrolled through Netflix for a few seconds before putting on something random. Neither of you had any intention of watching, you just wanted to see who’d make the first move.

The first twenty minutes of the movie went by with you and Tom sneaking glances at each other every few seconds. By the third time you made eye contact with him, you turned to face him.

“Are you enjoying the movie?” You asked with a coy smile.

“I don’t even know what movie is on the screen right now.” Tom answered honestly.

“Do you want to turn it off and do something else?” You asked innocently and scooted closer to him.

“Did you have something in mind?” He asked and slid closer to you.

“There is this one thing I think we could try.” You said, just inches from his face now.

“I think you might be a mind reader, darling.” Tom said before connecting his lips to yours.

You woke up the morning in Tom’s arms with your bedsheets tangled around you. You knew your sheets were stained with the scent of his cologne now and smiled at the thought of falling asleep to that later. You turned around in his arms so you were facing him just as he was waking up. He yawned a little as his eyes fluttered open and smiled the second he realized last night wasn’t a dream. You laughed shyly and covered your face with your hands, but he just pushed them away to kiss you.

“So.” He said as he stared into your eyes.

“So.” You sighed happily. “Breakfast?”

“I’m not hungry yet. I need to work up an appetite.” Tom said and climbed right back on top of you.

After a week, the day of the dinner had arrived and Tom still hadn’t figured out how your relationship began. You spent a majority of that week together and despite that, Tom was just as lost as he was the first time you kissed him. You, on the other hand, had completely forgotten about finding out when your relationship began. It wasn’t until you were on the steps of his childhood home that you realized that if his mom asked you how you got together, you wouldn’t know how to answer her.

“Are you ready for this?” Tom asked when he noticed the panicked look on your face. You quickly smiled and slipped your hand into his.

“I am. Cause I got you.” You said before knocking on the door.

“Ah! They’re here! Come in, come in.” Tom’s mom, Nikki, said when she opened the door. You both walked in and she pulled the two of you into a hug.

“I’m so glad you could make it. Come to the kitchen and I’ll make you a drink.” Nikki said as she led you to the kitchen. You went to say hello to Tom’s dad and brothers as Tom talked to his mom.

“So Tom, I’ve been dying to ask you. When did you guys finally get together?” His mom asked as he poured Tom a drink.

“Oh, uh….” Tom trailed off and pretended he was thirty. He took a long sip of his drink because he knew that once he stopped drinking, he’d have to answer his mom. When Tom’s drink finally ran out, he looked at the empty glass before looking at his Kim.

“Excuse me for a second. I have to…poop.” Tom lied and quickly dashed out of the room. He saw Harry and Sam in the living room and grabbed them both by the backs of their shirt collars. They both let out a yelp as Tom yanked them into the hallway.

“Boy meeting.” He whispered harshly and formed a huddle while Sam and Harry rubbed their sore necks.

“I need someone to find out how Y/n and I started dating because I cannot figure it out for the life of me.” Tom said in a low voice.

“How are we supposed to find out if you couldn’t?” Harry whispered.

“Because I can’t just ask my girlfriend when we started dating. But you can. Whoever gets the answer gets a million dollars.”

“For real?” Sam’s eyes widened.

“No, but I’ll let you try on the Spiderman suit.”

“Bullshit. I’ve already tried it on.” Harry scoffed.

“Me too.” Sam nodded.

“Same here.” Paddy said, making the other three jump.

“Paddy? When did you get here?” Tom asked.

“18 years ago. Thanks for noticing.” Paddy rolled his eyes. “And since when have you been dating Y/n?”

“I don’t know.” Tom, Harry, and Sam said in unison.

“Well what’s our incentive for finding out?” Paddy questioned and the other two agreed.

“Oh my God. Fine. What do you want?”

“A million dollars.” Paddy said.

“No.”

“A hundred dollars.” Sam suggested.

“No.”

“A dollar.” Harry said with a wicked smile.

“Yeah. Sure fine. I’ll give you a dollar.” Tom agreed with a roll of his eyes.

“Fuck you all I’m winning this.” Harry said and ran to find you. He soon found you setting the table in the dining room and approached you with and eerie grin.

“Hey there, sister in law.”

“Slow down.” You chuckled. “We’re not there yet. Tom and I have only been dating for….”

You trailed off when you realized you didn’t have an amount of time to give him. Harry hung on to your every word, thinking he was about to get the answer, only to be disappointed.

“…a short amount of time.” You said after a beat and hoped Harry wouldn’t notice. Harry 100% noticed and felt his eye twitch as he kept his huge smile.

“I know, you silly billy. I’m just so excited that you two crazy kids are finally together. So tell me, how did it finally happen?”

“He didn’t tell you?” You laughed nervously, beginning to panic now that Harry was asking the exact questions you didn’t have the answers to.

“Of course he told me.” Harry lied. “I just want to hear it from your perspective.”

“I’m sure I won’t have any details to add. It’s whatever he said.” You shrugged as you finished setting the table. Harry stared at you for a long time before letting out a sigh of defeat.

“You owe me a dollar.”

“What?”

“What?” Harry asked as he left the room. He found his brothers in the hallway and hung in head in shame.

“I lost. I’m gonna go kill myself so thank your girlfriend for me, Tom.” Harry grumbled and walked to his bedroom with his head hanging low.

“Don’t worry, Tom. Your big brothers got this.” Sam said and patted Tom’s shoulder.

“You’re not my big brother.” Tom pointed out.

“I know. That’s why I’m definitely gonna disappoint you.” Sam smiled proudly before leaving the hallway. He went and found you in the kitchen now and casually leaned against the wall.

“Hey you.” He smiled and poked your chest. You looked down at where his finger had been before giving him a strange look.

“No. I am not explaining how tampons work again. I already explained it once and it’s not my fault that you passed out.” You said and folded your arms.

“That’s not what I was gonna ask.” Sam rolled his eyes. “Although I still don’t understand how it stays up there with nothing to hold it up there.”

“I’m leaving.” You said and tried to walk away.

“Wait, I’m sorry.” Sam stopped you. “I just wanted to ask about you and Tom. I am just tickled pink that you two are finally together. Do tell me, how did that happen?”

“I’m not talking about this with you. You’re putting off a real creepy vibe right now and I do not feel safe.”

“What? You’re totally safe. Just tell me how you and Tom started dating or I’ll kill you.”

“See you later, Sam.” You chuckled and walked away. Sam let out a sigh and retreated back to the boys.

“How did it go?” Tom asked.

“I threatened to kill her.” Sam said quietly.

“Oh my God.” Tom groaned and rubbed his eyes.

“Leave it to me. I’m getting that dollar if it kills me.” Paddy rubbed his hands together and went to find you. As soon as you saw him coming, you grimaced and braced yourself for what was coming.

“Hey, Y/n.” Paddy greeted you.

“Why are you all being so weird today?” You whined.

“Hold tight. I haven’t even been as weird as I’m gonna be yet.” Paddy warned you.

“Oh no.” You groaned and looked up at the ceiling.

“I just want to know how you and Tom started dating and nobody gets hurt.” Paddy said and pulled out finger guns. You looked at his fingers guns and let out a sigh before pulling him to the side.

“I have no fucking idea.” You whispered to him.

“Huh?”

“Harry texted me like a week ago and said that Tom said we were dating and I felt too guilty to correct him and say that we weren’t because I didn’t want Tom to feel bad if he really thought we were dating. But then I thought that maybe we were dating and I just hadn’t realized it so I went along with it and now everyone keeps asking me how we got together and I have no fucking idea.” You whined and looked around incase anyone was listening.

“Oh.” Paddy frowned when he learned the truth.

“Paddy, you cannot tell Tom. He can never know. It’ll break his heart.”

“Uh huh.” Paddy nodded too many times and knew he was immediate going to tell Tom.

“Can you promise me you won’t tell?”

“I can promise you that.”

“Thank God.”

“For a million dollars.” Paddy continued.

“How about one dollar?” You folded your arms.

“Deal.” Paddy agreed. You pulled a dollar out of your pocket, handed it to him, and sent him on his way.

“Well? Did she tell you?” Tom asked when paddy came back.

“She did tell me. And then she bought my silence.” Paddy smirked and held up his dollar.

“What? What the hell happened in there?” Tom whispered harshly when he saw the dollar in his brothers hands.

“You’ll never know.” Paddy laughed menacingly before leaving the hallway.

“You all failed me. Now I’m never gonna know and she’s gonna find out and dump me and hate me forever. And it’s all your fault.” Tom said and pointed to Sam and Harry.

“Our fault? You’re the idiot who didn’t realize when he started his girlfriend.” Harry pointed out.

“Yeah. You’re on your own now. In fact, I hope she breaks up with you and takes all your dollars.” Sam scoffed.

“Me too.” Harry agreed before walking away.

“Boys! Dinner!” Nikki called from the dinning room. Tom hung his head in defeat and trudged into the dining room. He took a seat next to you and gulped, knowing there was no more avoiding the question. You noticed Tom’s pained expression and put your hand on top of his.

“You okay?” You mouthed to him. Tom’s mom saw the interaction and smiled to herself.

“I’m so happy you two finally got together.” She sighed. “I knew it would happen. But come on now. I want details. How did it happen?”

You and Tom tensed up as the most feared questioned had now been asked. Everyone turned to look at the two of you and you felt the pressure rising.

“Oh. You know.” You laughed and waved your hand, hoping that would suffice.

“Actually, I don’t know.” Harry raised his hand to say.

“What? Who’s side are you on?” Tom whispered to him.

“Justice.” Harry whispered back.

“I haven’t heard the story yet.” Tom’s dad spoke up, making you both snap your attention to him with angry looks.

“Tom, why don’t you tell the story?” You said and patted his hand.

“No, no. You tell it much better than I do. You tell it.” Tom said and put his hand on top of yours.

“No, you. I insist.” You replied and put your hand back on top.

“Someone tell the fucking story.” Paddy deadpanned.

“Patrick.” Nikki gasped and looked at him.

“Who said that?” Paddy gasped even louder and looked behind him.

“It was…after…we wrapped.” Tom said slowly and carefully watched your face for any indication on if he was right or wrong.

“Yeah. We didn’t start dating until after we finished shooting.” You agreed with him. He thought he had guessed correctly while you thought you were finally finding out what really happened.

“But how did it happen?” Nikki urged. “Who confessed their feelings first?”

You and Tom looked at each other, expecting the other to answer. When you realized at the same time that the other was just as confused, you both started to get suspicious.

“Tom did?” You answered but it came out like a question. Tom frowned and furrowed his eyebrows because that did not line up with what little he knew. He would’ve remembered telling you how he felt and knew that he never had until after he thought you were together.

“I did.” He said, making you sigh in relief that you had guessed correctly.

“But only after Y/n told me how she felt.” He continued, confusing you all over again.

“Huh?” You blurted then quickly took a sip of water to make it look like you hadn’t said anything. It was too late, of course, and the family looked at you in confusion.

“Did you not tell him how you felt?” Nikki laughed in confusion.

“No, I did.” You quickly lied. You didn’t remember doing it, but clearly Tom thought you had, so you went along with it.

“Well what did you say? I want the romantic details, guys. How did you phrase it?” Nikki gushed.

“Aw, Tom. Tell your mom how I phrased it.” You smiled at him as you internally panicked. You didn’t have the slightest clue on how you phrased it since you had no memory of ever doing such a thing.

Tom, on the other hand, was just as lost as you were. He didn’t remember you ever telling him you had feelings for him. All he remembered was you kissing him goodbye that one night and then telling Harry that you were dating. If there had been a confession at any point, he surely would’ve remembered.

“No.” Tom said suddenly, making everyone look at him. You felt a jolt of dread, thinking he had realized that you didn’t know when you’d started dating.

“I won’t tell you because it was a special moment between us and I want to keep it private. For now, at least. Maybe we’ll tell you one day but for now, it stays between us.” Tom answered and put his hand back on top of yours. You sighed in relief and leaned in to kiss him to thank him for unknowingly saving you in that situation. Little did you know, Tom had just pulled that answer out of his ass and hoped his family would believe it so that he never had to and it that he had no idea how you ended up together.

To both of your relief, his family bought it. They thought Tom’s answer was perfect and therefore stopped asking questions. Tom didn’t know why Paddy laughed and shook his head when he gave his answer, but he decided not to question it. You got through the rest of the dinner and said your goodbyes after some tea and dessert. On the drive back to your place, Tom kept one hand on the steering wheel and the other holding your hand.

“That was a little stressful, I’m not gonna lie.” You chuckled as you looked out the window.

“A little? Darling, that was the most nerve wracking dinner of my life. I think my hair went gray a little just from sitting through that.”

“Aw, that’s okay. I still like you.” You laughed and squeezed his hand. He looked over at you with a smile before looking back at the road.

“Just out of curiosity, when do you think we got together?” You asked and held your breath waiting for the answer. Tom initially panicked at this question, then decided to bite the bullet.

“Can I be honest?”

“Of course.”

“I didn’t even realize we were officially a couple until you kissed me that night.” Tom admitted and looked over at you to see your reaction. You were frowning, only because this answer didn’t line up.

“That night you hit me with the smackazine?” You asked.

“No. When we hung out the night before that.” Tom explained, only making your confusion grow.

“I didn’t kiss you that night.” You laughed in surprise. Tom tried to keep his eyes on the road but couldn’t help looking at you with wide eyes. The entire reason he thought you were dating was because you kissed him that night, and now you were denying it?

“Yes, you did. You 100% kissed me that night as I was leaving. And I’m glad you did because I wouldn’t have realized we were a thing if you hadn’t.” Tom said. You fell silent and when he finally looked over at you, you were looking at him with a stunned expression.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” He laughed nervously.

“Tom, I did not mean to kiss you that night. It must’ve been out of habit since we had just finished filming. I didn’t even realize I had done it until now.”

“What?” Tom practically shrieked. “But that night, you told Harry we were dating.”

“Only because he told me that you said we were dating. I just assumed we had started dating without me realizing it.”

“But that’s what I thought.”

“Why’d you think that?”

“Because you kissed me goodbye that night!” Tom exclaimed and then went quiet.

“Ohhhhh.” You remembered it now. “I see now that this was my fault all along.”

“It’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong. We just confused each other.” Tom laughed now that guy had gotten to the bottom of the situation.

“Did we gaslight ourselves into thinking we were dating?” You laughed as well.

“I think we might’ve.” Tom nodded and looked over at you with a smile. You returned the smiled felt peace for the first time all night. Your relationship may not have started in a traditional way, but it started, and that was all the mattered.

“Honestly, I don’t care how it started. I only care that it never ends.” You told him, making his smile grow.

“So this is us confessing our feelings? In case my mum ever asks?” He teased.

“Your mom can never know the truth. This conversation stays between us.” You chuckled and gave his hand another squeeze.

“Darling, as long as there’s an “us” for it to stay between, I’m good.”

Tag List 🏷️

@awesomebooklover17 @thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling @serendipitous-amor @tom-hollands-wifey

@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101

@letsloveimagines @peterparkoure @a-villain-vying-for-attention @justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr

@maryjanee23 @geeksareunique @emmamarshmellow

@unbelievableholland @flixndchill @sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever

@undiadeestos @caelestii-e @eridanuswave​ ​ @fiantomartell @solarxmoonchild

@canyouevencauseicant @illwritetomorrow @thehappygrungelife @saysomethingspiderman

@smilexcaptainx @quaksonhehe @kelieah @seasidecrowbar @lovelessdagger

@electraheart-3174 @unbelievableholland @yourtypicalhotmess @horanxholland

@thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx @heyheycharlatte @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie

@maybemona @alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom @xo-spidey

[lnfours]

nonsense | t.h

summary -> inspired by ‘nonsense’ by sabrina carpenter. dedicated to @darling-im-wonderstruck and @kate-bishopss <3

au -> tom holland x singer!reader

wc -> 1.6k

warnings -> unedited, fluff, tom being bf material, a little bit of language and sexual innuendos

masterlist | listen

                        ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

you sighed softly as you sat in the interview chair, tapping your fingers against your leg as your hairstylist and makeup artist applied some last minute touches before the camera turned on.

your new single had been on top charts for the past couple months, your album was coming out in a few short weeks, a tour was on the agenda for later this year. everything felt like it was finally slotting into place.

your fans had shown an insane amount of support from the number of streams and pre-saves for your new music, everything career wise made you feel on top of the world.

personal life wise, not so much.

you had met tom awhile back, the two of you had instantly connected while he was filming the latest spider-man movie. you two had gone out on a couple dates, hooked up a few times, the usual.

he checked all the boxes. he was caring and sweet, he made you feel like a queen, and he made sure you knew just how special you were to him.

however, whenever he was around, you felt knots in your stomach. the nervousness would set in whenever he was near. whenever you talk, you’d feel like you were speaking nonsense. all the nervousness is what kept you from jumping into something with him, but he was adamant about waiting for you. he didn’t want anyone else but you.

he didn’t care if it made him sound desperate, didn’t care about the girls in his dms or the ones who would text him and ask if he was seeing anyone. he only wanted you.

the camera started rolling and the interviewer introduced herself, smiling to the camera before introducing you. you smiled and thanked her for having you on before she asked her first question.

“so, ‘nonsense’ has been a huge hit,” she started, “you sing some very, risqué, lyrics, while also talking about how this certain someone makes you feel. did you pull inspiration from real life to write this?”

you nodded, “yeah, i did. i mean, you know that feeling you get when you talk to your crush? the kind of feeling that makes your insides melt? that's kind of how i feel with this person, every time.”

she smiled, “do they know they make you feel that way?”

you nodded, letting out a soft chuckle, “they do, yeah.”

she continued with the next question, “so, fans have speculated that the song is about tom holland, and you guys have been spotted out and about over the past couple months. are they right?”

you shook your head, palms sweating as you thought out your answer, “they’re all so creative with their speculations, but no, it’s not. tom and i are just friends.”

she tilted her head, “really? i mean, so many people have put compilations together of the two of you together and it seems like there’s some real chemistry brewing there.”

you smiled politely, “yeah, no. he’s really sweet, but we’re just friends.”

you felt the knots in your stomach again as you talked about him. just the thought of him made your stomach erupt in butterflies, how were you supposed to be together?

the interview was over after some more questions about the album and tour. you walked back to the dressing room, grabbing your things. as you scrolled through the missed texts on your phone, only one stood out to you the most.

tom: you were great ❤️

you smiled softly, going to reply, but your thought were interrupted when your manager walked in the door.

“the cars here,” she smiled, “ready?”

you tucked your phone back into your purse, “yeah,”

you walked outside of the building, saying hi and greeting some fans who waited outside. you took pictures, signed autographs, but the only thing on your mind was that text.

you pulled your phone back out as you got into the car, the driver heading back to your apartment building.

y/n: thank you ❤️

your fingers hovered over the keyboard, contemplating sending what you were thinking. you didn't understand why you were so nervous around him, why everything he did made your heart race or why he made your tongue go numb like all of a sudden you’re speaking gibberish.

none of it made sense, but then again, did it really have to? wasn’t the whole point of falling in love with someone about risks and growing together?

it was, right?

wanna get dinner tonight?

you locked your phone as soon as the ‘read’ popped up at the bottom of your message. you nervously bounced your leg, trying to fight back the urge to say ‘never mind’ as you watched the city life outside the dark tinted window.

your phone buzzed twice in your hand and you hesitated before looking down at the message on your lockscreen.

thought you’d never ask

meet at your place around 7?

you smiled down at your phone, your manager looking over at you as she spoke up, “nice job dodging those questions about tom earlier. i know how important your private life is, we want to keep it that way.”

you nodded, typing back your response before looking back at her. desperately trying to steady your heartbeat.

sounds good, spider-boy ❤️

“yeah,” you sighed, “i mean its not like i completely lied to them. we are just friends.”

“friends who hook up and get dinner on sunset?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. you sighed as she giggled, “i mean, i know there’s something brewing, anyone with eyes does, but why wait?”

you shrugged, “he just makes me nervous, almost like he’s too good to be true.”

“for as long as i’ve known you, if anyone deserves the ‘it’s too good to be true’, it’s you.”

you nodded, a soft smile on your face as the driver pulled up in front of your apartment building. you said your goodbyes, heading into the building and making your way into the elevator. you sighed, pressing the button for your floor.

maybe she was right. she almost always was.

the next few hours felt like the longest ever as you got ready. your hair was still styled almost perfectly from before, you touched up your makeup, and slipped on one of your favorite dresses. you felt good, and you looked good.

you were in the bathroom, applying some lip gloss in the mirror when you heard the knock on the door. you ruffled your hair one last time before making your way down the stairs and to the door, the clicking of your heels echoing throughout the penthouse.

you opened the door, smiling as tom stood in a dress shirt and dress pants. his sunglasses pushed back the curls that would normally fall in front of his forehead.

he looked so damn good.

he could say the same about you, though. his eyes traveled down your body as soon as you opened the door. he smiled as he handed you the bouquet of flowers from his grasp.

you thanked him and let him inside. he closed the door behind him and followed you into the kitchen where you were adding the new bouquet to the vase on the island.

“you look gorgeous, love,” he smiled as he took your hand. you laughed as he spun you around in a small circle, pulling you into his chest.

the smell of his cologne was embedded in your brain. after many nights of rolling over and smelling it on the pillows on the other side of your bed, or on one of the blankets on the couch he claimed was his, it smelled familiar. the feeling it gave you almost felt like home.

“so do you,” you grinned, “where are you taking me tonight, holland?”

“mm,” he hummed, “i booked a reservation for that italian place you like.”

you felt your heartbeat quicken as his nose brushed up against yours, “the key to my heart.”

he laughed softly, “seems you figured out what the key to mine is.”

you sent him a questioning look, “what’s that?”

“writing a song about me,” he smiled, “or, as you say, ‘about you and me’.”

you let out a chuckle, “you listened to it?”

“of course,” he playfully rolled his eyes, “it’s an honor to have a pop hit written about me, y’know.”

you hit his arm playfully, “stop.”

“stop what?”

“being so,” you trailed off for a second, “perfect.”

“you deserve nothing less, y/n.”

you felt the heat rise to your cheeks, and if he wasn’t holding you by the waist, you probably would’ve toppled over.

“you just make me so nervous,” you breathed out, “i’ve never felt this way about anyone else before.”

he smiled, “me either,” you returned the smile, “i know i’ve said it before, but i want it all with you. all the nervous jitters, the pillow talks, the dancing in the kitchen, all of it.”

in that moment, you put your nerves aside and let yourself give in.

“i want it all with you, too,” you mumbled, leaning closer to his lips. he smiled against yours as he kissed you sweetly, the both of you pulling away and erupting into soft chuckles.

your laugh grew louder when he picked you up, ignoring your protesting as he started up the stairs to your bedroom.

“what about our dinner reservation?” you laughed, fingers hooking into the waistband of his pants.

“you asked how quickly i can take my clothes off,” he said as he laid you down on your bed, “and there’s only one way to find out, love.”

                        ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

💌 beings my tagged list has gotten so long that tumblr literally won't let me add it, the tagged list is temporarily closed until i can figure it out. in the meantime, be sure to follow and turn on notifications for @toms-gf to be notified whenever i post imagines :)

xoxo,

jordan <3

[jahayla-parker]

Crazed : Tom Holland x Reader

Descr: 8k wc, A crazed fan breaks into Tom's house when his girlfriend is home and she has to defend herself until Tom's security gets there.

Warnings: curse words, violence, stalker/crazy fan behavior, hostage situation, threats, danger, mentions of a break-in, (minor) injuries, hospital (brief), knife/blade, keys used as weapon.

Y/n rubbed her boyfriend Tom’s shoulders as he pinched the bridge of his nose. She knew he was stressing out over the recent safety concerns that had arisen for the couple. Y/n knew that Tom would handle it; even before the multiple promises he made to do so. But, she still wanted to wipe the frown off his face as he called his security team.

They had recently been made aware that there was an… overzealous fan of Tom’s that posed a risk to the couple’s safety. Tom’s brother and personal assistant Harry, had noticed someone was following them one afternoon. They contacted Tom’s security team immediately and had them look into it.

Allegedly, when the security personnel asked the fan to stop following the couple, things escalated. The fan had made numerous comments that concerned Tom’s security. The first was the fan’s statement on how they were Tom’s one true love; not y/n. The second was when the same fan commented that y/n needed to learn her place and stay away from Tom. Then of course came the standard stalkerish fan remarks such as claiming she knew where the couple had been at any given moment, that she had a shrine of Tom with photos that no one else had seen as she’d taken them herself, and that she was in love with Tom and knew he’d come around and choose her.

It wasn’t like Tom had no former experience with overzealous fans. But this was on a whole other level. The fact that this fan made his own security concerned for y/n, made Tom panic. Between his team's and his own suggestions, Tom had ensured that they always had at least two security guards with them.

Tom felt guilty for having to limit their privacy even more than normal when going on dates, or whenever they simply left the house. But, he refused to let something happen to y/n. Which was why he had to call his security team again today.

Earlier today Y/n had gotten a call from an unknown number. She always ignored calls from unknown numbers. As such, y/n had let the call go to voicemail. However, when she checked her voicemail, y/n felt the same panic Tom had been experiencing.

The fan who Tom had been worried about for several weeks by then had somehow found y/n’s personal phone number. Y/n knew it wasn’t super rare for celebrities and their friends and family to have their personal information leaked. But, the message that the fan left was very troubling.

The girl had threatened to harm y/n if she didn’t break up with Tom. She even went so far as to show she had the address of y/n’s work; as ‘proof to take her seriously’. The fan also had the address of y/n’s last residence. Y/n and Tom began living together months ago. But, technically y/n’s old apartment was still in her name as the lease wasn’t up for another month and a half.

When y/n told Tom about the voicemail, he immediately asked her to play it for him. His fury and fear skyrocketed as he heard the passion behind the fan’s voice. He couldn’t believe this was happening to begin with, much less to this extent. Tom was adamant something had to be done, starting with calling his security and demanding increased protection for y/n.

“We need to increase y/n’s security,” Tom ordered immediately upon his lead security officer answering his call. He felt y/n rest her head on his shoulder, rubbing his arm to try and calm him. Tom crooked his neck and placed a soft kiss to y/n’s head as he listened to his security guard’s response.

“No, you don’t understand,” Tom groaned, standing up from the couch. He began pacing their living room as he tried to keep himself in check. He couldn’t understand why his security wasn’t just listening to him. Y/n needed more security, immediately. “I’m going to send you something,” Tom said, pulling the phone from his ear just long enough to forward the threatening voicemail.

“Tommy,” y/n whispered as Tom put the phone back up to his ear as he waited on a response. She smiled warmly at him when he looked her way. Y/n wrapped her arms around his shoulders, “breathe please”.

Tom nodded in response to y/n’s request. He took a few deep breaths as he faintly heard the voicemail being played in the background. Tom hummed as he heard his security guard call for another officer to look into the voicemail. “See?” Tom asked in frustration, “she needs more security”.

Y/n watched as Tom nodded along to whatever his security was suggesting. She sighed in relief at seeing his lessening worry. She didn’t know what they were telling Tom, but it was helping. Y/n kissed Tom’s neck right under his earlobe as she waited for him to end the call and update her.

“Tom, look, I know you’re worried, but-” y/n sighed. Tom wanted her to not go in to work today. To be fair, it was a suggestion from his security when he called them last night, but Tom jumped on board with the idea without hesitation.

Tom frowned. “You’re not going to stay home?” He asked, his voice sad and eyes worried. “Please?” Tom requested, squeezing y/n’s hand.

Y/n pursed her lips. “I have work, T,” she argued softly.

“I know,” Tom agreed. “And I’m sorry, I dragged you into this -".

Y/n shook her head, “no. This isn’t on you Tom. I’ve told you that”. She sighed, “but, that doesn’t mean I can just stay stuck at home all day every day until this...overzealous fan chills out”.

“Overzealous?!” Tom huffed. “Darling, she’s bloody crazy!” He exclaimed. “This isn’t some slightly obsessed fan, she’s insane and she wants to hurt you.”

Y/n bit her lip and nodded. He was right. The voicemail had truly scared her. And she knew Tom knew that. Even if he hadn’t already been protective before, he certainly would’ve become so upon seeing how much it freaked her out.

“Just for today?” Tom pleaded. “I’m already working on a more long-term solution,” he assured her.

Y/n sighed softly as she thought it over. She didn’t have a ton to do at work today, so perhaps it wouldn’t be the end of the world. “Okay, if it will make you happy, I’ll stay home today,” she accepted.

Tom grinned and pulled y/n in for a tight hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he gushed. “I know it’s not ideal, but I’ll try to come home for lunch, and-" Tom rambled.

Y/n giggled. She rubbed Tom’s chest as she leaned back. “Handsome, you don’t need to do that,” she smiled. “Just focus on your scenes and rest between them, we both know you haven’t been doing that much. Hmm?”.

Tom nodded, he’d been spending most of his time between takes and scenes getting on his security about finding out who this crazy fan was and doing whatever was needed to stop them. “Okay, but,” he replied, smiling, “I’m still going to call during my lunch and check-up”.

Y/n hummed lovingly, stroking Tom’s cheeks tenderly. “You have a deal, sweetheart.”

“Okay, so, you’ll arm the security system after I leave?” Tom asked y/n.

Y/n nodded, “yes”.

“And, you have Jones’s number saved, right?” Tom wondered as he mentally made his way through his checklist. Jones was one of his security guards and Tom had requested that he be on call nearby in case something happened. Or if y/n simply felt scared that it could/would.

“Saved and set as a favorite for easy access,” y/n promised. She neared her boyfriend and set her hands on his shoulders. “Everything is in place honey.”

Tom took a shaky breath and nodded. He really didn’t want to leave her alone, but he had to go to set. He was nearly done with filming and then they’d be able to go wherever. Y/n had reminded him of that when he considered taking the day off. The sooner he was done, the sooner they could go back to Europe -for at least as long as it took until the fan was taken care of.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t anxious about y/n being home alone. But, at his security pointed out, the fan had given the address for y/n’s old apartment, her job, and has been seen on set before. This was the safest place for her. As far as they are aware, there was no reason to believe the fan has knowledge of this apartment nor that y/n and Tom even lived together.

“I’m just…” Tom sighed. He knew he was going overboard in his preparations. But he couldn’t help it, he needed to know y/n would be safe.

Y/n gave Tom a quick kiss. “Worried, sweet, adorable, I know,” she grinned. “But you’re also about to be late,” y/n giggled playfully. “So, go, get there safely, kick ass on your scenes, and we’ll talk at lunch?”

Tom smiled and nodded, holding y/n to his chest for another hug. “Alright love, I’ll call you soon. I love you.”

“I love you too,” y/n said. She pulled back from the hug and kissed Tom’s forehead. “Let me know when you get to set,” she added as Tom made his way to his car. Y/n waved goodbye before she closed the door.

Y/n quickly armed the security system. She sighed to herself before looking around as she tried to decide what to do on her unplanned day off. Y/n walked to the bedroom to change into pajamas and grab some large and comfortable blankets.

When y/n returned to the living room, she found Tom had texted her saying he’d made it to set. She smiled and sent a quick reply before settling herself on their couch. Y/n flicked the television on and scrolled through their digital movies until she landed on Uncharted. She smirked to herself and sent a photo of her movie choice to Tom before she pressed play and relaxed under her blankets.

“You okay?” Harry asked, squinting at his brother. “You seem tense and you keep saying the wrong lines,” he pointed out. Harry was not just Tom’s brother but also his personal assistant and therefore it was his job to see to whatever was bothering him. “What’s going on?”

Tom sighed and ran a hand down his face, wincing as he realized he realized he’d just messed up the makeup the crew put on him. “It’s just…” he mumbled, looking around the set before pulling his brother to the side. “You know that crazy fan?” He asked. When Harry nodded, Tom continued. “Well, they get y/n’s number and left her a threatening message”.

Harry’s eyes widened. “Is she okay?” He asked.

“Yeah, I mean, she was when I left. And, Jones hasn’t reached out to say that’s changed… But, I just…. It’s hard to clear my mind and focus,” Tom admitted.

“I get that mate, but you can’t know what’s going on if you don’t ask,” Harry said. “So, instead of stressing for likely no reason, why don’t you text her between scenes and see what she’s up to?“ he suggested.

Tom smiled and hugged his brother. “That’s a great idea mate, thank you!” He held out his hand and waited for Harry to pass him his phone.

Harry chuckled and quickly took Tom’s phone from his pocket. “Here ya are,” he said with a playful eye roll.

“Oh,” Tom chuckled. He felt his cheeks flush as he looked at the last message from his girlfriend.

“Ewww, if that’s a sext, you need to get better at hiding your reaction,” Harry groaned.

Tom glared at Harry as he shook his head. “No!” He scolded. “Apparently she’s having a movie day…” Tom mumbled bashfully.

“Okay? And…?” Harry questioned.

Tom tilted his phone so Harry could see the text thread. His blush darkened as his brother laughed and shook his head at y/n's choice of movies for the day.

“You two are gross,” Harry teased. “Ready to try this scene again now?” He asked, trying to guide Tom back to set.

Tom smiled to himself. He quickly replied to y/n’s text and passed his phone back to Harry. “Yeah, I am now,” Tom nodded.

Y/n yawned as she rose from the floor. She’d made a blanket fort earlier to watch movies in. But now, her legs were numb and tingly from the position she’d been in. Y/n tiredly made her way to the kitchen for some snacks. While she hadn’t done much today, she was exhausted. It seemed doing nothing let her body realize how tired she’d been lately.

Y/n groaned lightly upon seeing that Tom had left a nearly empty milk carton in the fridge. She had just gotten groceries, not knowing they needed milk since the n carton was still in the fridge. Y/n made a mental note to get more milk tomorrow, or tonight after Tom got home from set. She poured the last of it in her cereal bowl before going to throw the carton away.

Only, as she went to place the carton in the garbage, y/n noticed it was full. She quickly calculated what day it was and realized it was garbage day. Y/n decided to go put on some slippers so she could take the garbage out.

Y/n returned to the kitchen and tied the trash bag closed. She smiled to herself knowing Tom wouldn’t have to deal with taking the bag out tonight when he got home and instead could relax. It was the least she could do since she knew he was worrying about her more than usual today.

Y/n disarmed the security system so that her opening the back door wouldn’t trip the alarm. That was the last thing Tom needed while trying to focus on his job. She was careful though to shut the door behind her and lock it so no one could enter while she was walking to the alley to dispose of the bag. Y/n figured it was overkill, but she knew Tom would be happier knowing she’d done it.

Y/n was sure to be quick with throwing the bag in the can outside. She smiled when she noticed their neighbors’ cans hadn’t been picked up yet; she hadn’t missed pickup. Y/n cautiously looked around before walking back to her apartment.

Y/n felt some anxiety as she unlocked her back door, feeling like someone could sneak up behind her. As a result, she quickly rushed inside and locked it again. Y/n let out a sigh and decided to refocus on her movie day, designating it as a seemingly needed distraction. She grabbed her bowl of sugary cereal with little milk and headed back to her blanket fort in the living room.

Y/n paused the movie, having thought she heard something in the kitchen. She peered into the kitchen doorway from her seat and didn’t see anything. Y/n wanted to go back to her movie, but her gut told her something wasn’t right.

Y/n elected it was safest to fully check on the sound she thought she heard. So, she grabbed her phone, pulling up the favorites section of her contacts as she anxiously made her way to the kitchen. She stopped halfway there, realizing she didn’t have anything to protect herself with. Unfortunately, her ideal choice of weapon would be found in the kitchen. Y/n settled for her keys, holding them in her other hand as she resumed her quest to find the source of the sound she’d heard.

A gasp escaped y/n’s mouth as she entered the kitchen. There was a pile of broken glass underneath the back door on the far side of the room. Y/n didn’t see anyone in the room but knew this wasn’t a good sign. She hadn’t been wrong about having heard a sound, nor about the need to check on it. And, considering the broken glass had come not too long after the voicemail incident, y/n was worried they were related.

Y/n didn’t want to take her eyes off the kitchen in case someone appeared, but she suspected she should call Jones. She blindly tried to pull up his number as she stared at the back door. Y/n cautiously walked towards the knife block, hoping to grab a better weapon than her keys. Except, before y/n could get to even the halfway point, someone’s hand reached in through the broken glass on the door and unlocked the handle.

Y/n looked around for an alternative weapon since she was too far from the knife block. But, she quickly ran out of time as the person had flung the door open and entered her apartment. Y/n’s eyes widened and she began to step back. She wanted to run but she didn’t want to aggravate the girl before her. Plus, the safest way to run would be to run outside, but the girl was blocking that door.

The intruder was wearing a homemade Tom Holland shirt, making it even more obvious she was the stalkerish fan. The girl’s hair and makeup was overly done up, as if she was going out on a date or to an event. She was glaring aggressively at y/n as she walked further into the kitchen.

Once y/n sensed she’d backed up enough to make it to the doorway to the living room, she turned and bolted from the kitchen. She scolded herself as she realized her blanket fort in the living room now provided a large obstacle, blocking her from easy access to the front door. Before y/n could decide if she could crash through the mess of blankets and furniture supporting them, she heard the fan’s loud footsteps running after her.

Y/n sharply turned the corner and started to the stairs. She looked down at her phone as she ran, clicking on Jones’ contact. Just as y/n’s finger went to press call, she felt a hand on her ankle. She screeched as she tugged her foot away and tried to stumble up the rest of the stairs.

Y/n kept running up the stairs as the fan angrily screamed her name. She once again tried to call Jones, only this time she tripped on one of Tom’s shoes that had been left on the staircase. In her attempt to not lose her balance and fall down the steps, y/n used her hand to push herself back up. Only, this caused her phone to slip from her hands and tumble down the stairs. Y/n fell to the ground as she turned to grab the device. Except, she wasn’t quick enough.

Y/n silently watched in terror as her lifeline bounced past the crazed fan on the stairs. She froze as she saw the glint of the knife the fan had in her hand. Y/n swallowed thickly and decided her best bet was to try and lock herself in the bathroom and scream; hoping the neighbors would hear and call the police. She quickly stood back up and turned around. “HELP!” Y/n shouted, hoping by chance a window was open.

“I just want to talk!” The fan replied, bouncing up the steps after y/n.

“GET AWAY FROM ME!” Y/n yelled back, finally mounting the stairs. She rushed towards the bathroom at the end of the hall. A painful scratch on the back of her right shoulder caused y/n to stop. Y/n knew instantly from the way there were four simultaneous scratches that the fan had used her acrylic nails to scrape at y/n.

Y/n hissed in pain and spun around to try and fight off the fan. She fortunately still had her keys in her fist. As such, she lunged forward and dug them against the fan’s face. Y/n used the fan’s shock to turn and run the rest of the way to the bathroom.

As y/n tried to shut the bathroom door, she was blocked by the fan’s foot. “LEAVE ME ALONE!” she shouted, trying to shove the girl’s foot out of the way. “I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING TO YOU!”

“JUST LET ME TALK!” The fan argued, pushing against the bathroom door.

“I DON’T WANT TO TALK!” Y/n groaned. “WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU!” she asked, slamming the door repeatedly against the fan’s leg as the girl banged on the other side of the bathroom door.

“YOU STOLE MY ONE TRUE LOVE!” the fan screamed, the knife stabbing the door.

Y/n flinched backward as the knife sliced into the thin wooden door separating her from the crazy fan. During y/n’s brief reaction, the fan shoved the door open. Y/n fell backward onto the ground. She shouted again in desperation, praying someone heard her.

The fan stood over y/n with a furious expression. “YOU. STOLE. TOM. FROM. ME.” She seethed, leaning closer to y/n as she was flat on her back against the bathroom floor.

Y/n lifted her arms over her head to shield her face. “GO AWAY!” she shouted, kicking at the fan. Y/n gasped as the fan grabbed ahold of y/n’s hair. She used her keys to scratch the fan’s arm of the hand she was holding y/n with.

“STOP FIGHTING ME!” The fan complained, tugging on y/n’s hair. She used her other hand to try and pry the keys from y/n’s hand.

Y/n stared at the fan in bewilderment. “YOU’RE FUCKING CRAZY!” She cried, continuing her kicking and scratching. Y/n faintly heard her phone ringing from the other room. She silently pleaded with the universe for it to be Tom checking on her. If it was, she knew he’d send security over if she didn’t answer.

The crazed fan continued to fight with y/n until y/n spat at her in an attempt to get the girl to back up enough for y/n to get off the floor. The fan glared and hissed at y/n. “THAT’S IT!” She shouted, grabbing the knife from where she’d set it on the bathroom counter; out of reach from y/n. She dropped to her knees and placed the blade against y/n’s throat.

Y/n gulped as terror shot though every fiber of her being. She could keep using her keys, especially now that the girl was close enough for y/n to jab them into her eyes. Only, the knife against her throat made y/n worry the fan wouldn’t hesitate to push the blade into her as a response to such an attempt.

“Drop it, or I’ll make you regret it,” The fan threatened. She smirked when y/n shakingly let go of the keys.

“Okay…” y/n mumbled, wincing as her neck grazed against the knife’s blade as she spoke. “Y-you wanted to t-talk?” She asked rhetorically. “W-we can talk,” y/n offered. Hopefully, she could keep the fan talking long enough for help to reach her.

“No!” The fan scoffed. “I don’t want to talk,” she snarked.

Y/n tried to lean back from the blade, the firm tile of the bathroom floor not allowing her much relief. “B-but, you said-,” y/n argued.

“That was before this!” The fan shouted. She raised her non dominant hand, letting go of y/n’s hair.

Y/n noticed the blood dripping from the fan’s arm. She looked back up at the fan with fearful eyes. “Then… wha-what do you want?” Y/n asked, trying to slide backwards on the tile so she could at least use the wash to sit herself up.

“STOP MOVING YOU STUPID BITCH!” The fan scolded. “I love that man, but I swear he’s an idiot, I don’t how you tricked him into thinking he loves you, but I’m going to help him see the truth.”

Y/n’s eyes widened as she froze. She didn’t know what else there was to do at this point. She’d tried to fight but was out armed. She tried to scream but no one heard. She tried to call security but her phone fell. The only thing left was to try and get the crazy fan to drop her guard slightly.

“I… I… I’m sorry… I…” y/n lied, trying to appear weak and like the fan had cracked her. “What can I d-d-do?” She pleaded with fake tears. “H-how can I h-help? Please, I’ll do anything,” y/n fibbed.

“You- you want to help me?” The fan questioned hesitantly.

Y/n nodded, wincing as the blade scratched her skin. “I.. I had my fun…” she mumbled, hating herself for even lying about it. “I… you’re clearly better for him..”.

“Really?” The fan smiled. “You admit I’m better for Tom?” She asked dreamily.

Bingo. Y/n nodded faintly again, not wanting to say it.

The fan seemed to pick up on y/n’s reasoning. “Say it,” The fan barked.

“W-what?” Y/n questioned.

“Say that I’m better for Tom, that he’d be happier with me,” The fan ordered.

Y/n swallowed, the knot on her throat hitting the blade of the knife still pressed against her. She felt nauseous and her eyes prickled with tears. Tom was the actor, not y/n. But, she didn’t have much of a choice.

“Y-you’re better for Tom,” y/n mumbled. She hoped her shaky voice and watery eyes came across as fake remorse and sorrow for the fan rather than the fear and guilt she felt. When the fan stared at y/n expectantly, y/n fought the desire to tremble as she stared back in terror. “H-he… To-Tom,” y/n corrected herself not wanting to further upset the girl by being vague, “Tom would be happier with you”.

The fan smirked with pride. She tilted her head mockingly at y/n. “I’m glad you finally see it,” The fan commented. “Now, we just need to work on what you’ll say when he gets here.”

“What? He’s-he’s not coming,” y/n stated fearfully. She hoped she was right. She wanted Tom to call security, but she didn’t want Tom to get himself caught up in this dangerous situation.

“Of course he’s coming. He thinks he loves you,” the fan sighed. “He’s wrong, of course.” The fan rolled her eyes. “But no worry, because once we show him that you don’t actually love him like he deserves, he’ll choose me, his true love,” she grinned.

Y/n tensed. “S-show him… That I-“ she mumbled.

“You’ll see. You’re going to tell him that you don’t love him,” The fan explained.

“Or…” y/n whispered, her voice cracking. She knew she’d likely lost her ruse, but she couldn’t help it. She didn’t want to be forced to lie to Tom; especially about this.

“Or, I’ll remove you from the picture myself,” the fan warned. “Then he’ll finally be all mine,” She smiled.

Y/n willed herself not to cry, she had to figure out a way out of this. There was no doubt even if y/n didn’t make of it, the girl would kill Tom too once she saw Tom wasn’t going to fall in love with her the way she thought. Y/n refused to let that happen. She needed to get her and Tom out of this.

Tom ran his hand down his face as he tried dialing y/n’s number again. He’d tried twice already with no response. Granted, they were back to back, so if she was busy with something, there’d been little time to finish and answer the phone. But surely, by him calling a third time, y/n would get the seriousness behind his calls and drop whatever she’d been doing.

Tom felt his whole body go numb as his third call went to voicemail. He closed his eyes as his fear reached an all time high. He looked around to tell someone he had to leave but didn’t see Harry in the hall. Tom didn’t want to waste anymore time so he decided to just leave.

Tom ran to the set door and grabbed his jacket, yanking his keys out before dashing out the door. He threw open his car door and jumped in. He quickly dialed Jones’s phone as he sped out of the parking lot. Tom sighed when Jones didn’t answer, maybe he was already with y/n then.

Tom was only seconds from their street when Jones called him back. “Is y/n okay?! Is she with you?!” He asked after hitting accept. Tom felt a chill rush through him when Jones stated he had no idea what Tom was talking about.

Tom quickly took the corner, speeding even more as he drove closer to his apartment. “Just meet me at my house, NOW!” He shouted as he pulled into the driveway. Tom vaguely noticed Jones commenting that he and another officer were on their way.

When he threw open the front door and didn’t hear an alarm go off, Tom felt his tears rising even more. He clumsily rushed past the blanket fort y/n had made in the living room. “Y/N?! LOVE?!” Tom yelled, moving further into the apartment.

Tom glanced in the kitchen to see if the back door showed any signs of damage. Since the front door was still locked and closed, he hoped he was overreacting. Maybe y/n was just taking a nap.

Tom’s tears fell down his cheeks as he found the broken glass and open back door. “No, no, no, no, no,” he mumbled. He rushed back to the living room. “Please,” Tom whimpered.

Tom went to go up the stairs, stopping when something cracked under his foot. He slowly raised his leg and looked down. He winced as he noticed it was y/n’s phone. Tom lifted it up and saw she’d pulled up Jones’s contact. He felt his heart drop as he faintly heard a struggle upstairs.

Tom threw y/n’s phone down and bolted up the staircase. “Y/N!!” He screamed, taking the stairs three at a time. “PLEASE ANSWER ME!” He pleaded breathily as he reached the top. Tom froze as his head snapped towards the bathroom.

“GET AWAY FROM HER!” Tom belted, sprinting to the end of the hall. “HEY!” He yelled, going to pull on the girl standing over his girlfriend. Tom’s breath hitched as he saw the blade pressed against y/n’s throat.

Tom froze as he stared in fear. He could see the terror and distraught in y/n’s eyes as she was pinned to the ground at knifepoint. Tom breath was shaky as his hands were fisted at his side. He tried to shoot his girlfriend a remorseful look, uncertain if she could see it from her angle. And then, he turned his eyes towards the girl holding her hostage as his eyes lit with fury.

“Back. Away. From. Her. Now.” Tom seethed, his jaw tight as he stared down the crazy fan.

“Tom! Oh my gosh,” The fan gushed. “Hi! Sorry for the mess, Uhh,” she giggled, “not to worry, I’m sure y/n will help clean it up after”.

Tom squinted harshly at the girl. “After? After what?” He asked dreadfully. He tried to look around the girl to see how y/n was doing. His eyes widened upon seeing drops of blood on the white tile flooring. Tom glanced back at the fan, “please. Whatever you want, it’s yours. Take it!” He pleaded.

“Is it money?” Tom questioned, “you can have it. Call my brother and he’ll help get it all out from the bank for you”.

Y/n tried to speak, but her voice was muffled as the fan pressed the flat edge against her more forcefully in warning. She squirmed and debated whether she should try and fight the fan off again now that Tom was here.

“Y/n,” Tom whimpered. “Don’t, please,” he begged, “I’ve got this”. Tom looked back towards the fan with his hands held up. “Just call him, his name is in my phone-".

“Harry, duh. I know your brother’s name, silly,” the fan laughed. “I know all their names! What kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn’t?!” She shook her head in disbelief.

Tom tried to resist looking confused as he slowly nodded. “Okay…” he mumbled, “so… then uhh,.. Yeah, call him and he’ll get you however much you want. It’s all yours. Just, let y/n go, please”.

“I don’t want your money,” the fan tsked.

“You.. you don’t?” Tom sighed in frustration. “Then wh-what do you want?” He asked hopelessly. “Merch? Harry can get that too. Ummm autographs? Tell me what to sign. Umm, do you want-“ Tom rambled, trying to find a solution.

The crazed fan pouted. “I don’t want anything from you babe,” she answered. “Relax, you don’t have to do anything Tommy bear.”

Tom’s breath wavered as he tried to keep his composure. “Then… then wh-why is my girlfriend on the-?” He stopped himself as the fan glared and turned to y/n, gripping the knife tighter. Tom realized his mistake; this fan claimed in her message that she thought she was his one true love.

“Ex,” the fan hissed, turning back to Tom. “Your ex-girlfriend,” she corrected.

Tom swallowed tensely. Even though the statement was false, it didn’t sit well with him. Even more concerning though was that he had no idea where the fan was going with all of this if she already decided y/n was his ex.

“Don’t worry sweetie,” The girl sighed with what sounded like sympathy. “You’re about to hear why that’s a good thing,” she said. “And I’ll be here to help you through it after.”

Tom opened his mouth to ask what exactly the girl meant when suddenly she was ordering y/n to sit up. He flinched forward instinctively when y/n struggled to get into a seated position. Tom only stopped himself when the fan pressed the knife closer to y/n’s skin, grazing it slightly. Ironically, he wanted to move towards y/n even more after that in order to get the knife away from her, but he knew any movement on his behalf could make things drastically worse in seconds; before he would have time to stop it.

Y/n rested her head against the wall of the bathroom. Her cheek brushed against the toilet paper holder installed beside her on the wall. She couldn’t get herself to look at Tom knowing what the fan was about to make her do. The fan had warned/instructed y/n on it prior to Tom’s arrival.

“Okay, speak,” The fan ordered. She moved infinitesimal to the side so Tom could see y/n clearly.

Y/n closed her eyes and shook her head. She no longer cared about the pain that came with such movement. Y/n felt her tears stream down her face as she tried not to shake. Her stomach was in knots and all she wanted to do was throw up.

“NOW!” The fan shouted, her anger rising at y/n’s lack of cooperation.

Tom flinched at the sudden outburst. He kept his eyes focused on his terrified girlfriend. He watched as her eyes opened and he nodded for her to comply with whatever the fan was saying to do. “Y-y/n, it’s okay, just say it,” Tom pleaded softly.

“See, Tom wants the truth,” the girl remarked. “Now,” she glared at y/n, “tell him”.

Y/n whimpered as she held eye contact with her boyfriend. She saw him silently begging her with his eyes to just do it. Y/n sniffled as she closed her eyes. “I… I… I can’t,” she resisted.

“Do it or I swear!” The girl screeched.

Tom saw the wild look in the girl’s eyes and his fear increased. “Y/n,” he whispered. “I.. I want to hear the truth,” Tom mumbled, playing along with whatever the fan was going for.

Y/n squeezed her eyes tighter and shook. She didn’t want to do this. “I… I don’t….” Y/n mumbled, stopping when the fan yelled for her to use full sentences. “I used you,” She lied.

The words tasted vile as y/n spoke her instructed words aloud. “I.. I don’t love you.” She cried, her resulting movement causing the edge of the blade to seep into her skin. “I-I-I never did. I never l-loved you,” y/n repeated as she’d been told to. She felt her body go limp in defeat after uttering the false but nonetheless hurtful words to Tom.

Tom knew what y/n was saying wasn’t true. But, he could see how badly it hurt her to just repeat them. Nonetheless, he knew he had to play along to get the crazy fan to let y/n go. Fortunately, Tom was already crying.

“O-oh,” Tom whispered with pretend shock. “I… I thought…” he sighed, stepping back in hopes the fan would follow him.

“It’s okay,” the fan soothed. “It’s okay Tommy bear, I’m here for you.” “You don’t need her, I can show you what real love is,” she promised.

Tom noticed the fan had moved closer to him, further from y/n. She was still between the two of them with the knife, but it was no longer at y/n’s throat. Tom wiped his eyes dramatically with a frown. “But… I just…. I can’t believe…” he murmured, taking another few steps down the hall.

The fan sighed. “I know, it’s cruel,” she agreed, “but, aren’t you glad to find out before it was too late?”

Tom shrugged as he yet again moved back some, the fan unconsciously following him. He tried to shoot y/n a sign to be ready to run when the girl eventually exited the bathroom, but y/n wasn’t looking at him. He sighed and quickly improvised. “It’s just…y/n,” Tom whimpered, the fan pouting as he seemingly cried over y/n’s ‘declaration’.

Y/n looked up at hearing Tom say her name. She noticed the way he immediately made eye contact with her and then shifted his gaze to the floor. Y/n looked around and realized the crazy chick and Tom had stepped further into the hall. She was no longer at knifepoint.

Y/n quietly slid her hand toward the keys she’d abandoned earlier. She mentally thanked the girl for being stupid enough to not kick them away. Once she had the keys in reach, y/n took a deep breath as she thought of a game plan. She had to be careful, she didn’t want Tom getting stuck in the crossfire or for the fan to flip out on him in retaliation.

Y/n glanced back up at Tom as she heard him still mumbling about his shock over her statement. In doing so, she noticed a shadow in the staircase. Something she assumed the fan hadn’t seen due to staring crazily at Tom. Y/n took one last deep breath before she silently moved for the keys.

Y/n held the keys in her hands and tried to give Tom a warning glance. She then got onto her knees and leaned forward until she dug the keys into the girl’s leg. Y/n nearly vomited at the force she had to use to puncture the girl’s leg more than just a scratch. But, it was enough for her to get the girl to spin away from Tom.

As the fan turned on y/n, Tom rushed forward to try and grab the knife.

Y/n threw herself back to the ground as she prepared for the knife to contact her.

Before Tom could reach the crazy girl, he heard a buzzing sound and the girl fell to her knees, the knife hitting the ground beside y/n. He snapped his head behind him and saw his security guards standing there, one of whom had tased the fan.

Tom tried to run to y/n but one of the guards stopped him. The one with the taser sidestepped him, likely going to grab the crazy girl. But Tom pushed past both of them and ran to the bathroom. He jumped over the spasming fan in the doorway and fell to his knees beside y/n.

Tom sighed as he saw Y/n was still hunched over, waiting for the impact. “I-It’s just m-me, love,” he whispered tenderly before cautiously placing a hand on her back. When she flinched, he pulled his hand back. But, as y/n turned to look up at him with tears in her eyes, he pulled her to his chest.

“Shhhhh I’ve got you,” Tom cooed, rocking y/n lightly. “You’re safe.” “I’m so sorry”. He repeated these words and similar sentiments as they both cried and held onto each other. Tom faintly heard his security taking the girl away, but he didn’t look away from y/n.

“T-t-To-T-To-“ y/n mumbled, tears still flowing down her face.

“Shhh, you don’t have to talk,” Tom assured her, delicately wiping her cheeks. “I’m here, it’s okay now.”

Y/n shook her head as another sob left her body. “I-I… I didn’t mean it!” She cried. “I swear, T-Tom. I didn’t mean any of what s-she-“.

Tom frowned and pulled y/n back to his chest. He rested his lips on the top of her head as he sighed. “I know darling, I know,” he told her. “I know she made you say it,” Tom acknowledged.

Y/n fisted Tom’s shirt as she cried into his chest. “I … I didn’t… I didn’t want to say it…” she cried. “I didn’t mean it. I swear. I didn’t mean it.” Y/n repeated.

Tom listened respectfully as y/n kept repeating herself. He pressed loving kisses to her scalp as he waited for her to calm down. After a few minutes, Tom began replying with a quiet, “I know” each time y/n promised she hadn’t meant what she said.

Tom didn’t know how long this continued. To him it felt like an eternity having to hear y/n’s choked sobs and needless apologies. But, he noticed she suddenly went quiet. Tom cautiously cupped y/n’s face and tilted it so he could see her eyes.

“I love you,” y/n promised. She gazed up into Tom’s eyes and sniffled. “I love you.”

Tom smiled softly at y/n before giving her a quick kiss. “I love you too,” he whispered.

Y/n took Tom’s face in her hands and needily pulled him in for a longer kiss. She closed her eyes as she sunk her fingers into his hair and held him close. Y/n felt a few more tears leave her eyes as she savored the taste of Tom’s lips.

“Are you hurt?” Tom asked when they pulled back, resting his forehead on y/n’s.

“I.. I don’t think so,” y/n mumbled.

“I...-there was… is…blood on the floor,” Tom argued worryingly.

Y/n pulled back and looked over at the spots Tom was referencing. “Oh, I.. I think that’s hers,” she admitted. “I kinda tore up her arm before you got here,” y/n said, eyeing her keys.

Tom hummed and smiled faintly. “I’m so p-proud of you,” he told y/n. He saw y/n’s disagreement and shook his head. “You kept yourself alive until help could come,” Tom argued. “I s-saw you tried to call Jones, you ran, you fought back, you did what you needed to do to survive.”

Y/n sniffled. “I didn’t want to say that… I shouldn’t have-“.

Tom sighed. “I know you didn’t, and I’m sorry you had to. But that’s just it, you had to,” He pointed out. “I know you didn’t mean it. I’m not hurt or mad. I’m thankful you did what you needed to do. I’m thankful you were so strong,” Tom whimpered lightly.

Y/n flattened her lips and nodded. “I’m just glad you’re here. Thank you for c-coming for me.”

“Always. Now, are you sure-” Tom began, stopping suddenly. He abruptly stood up and carefully pulled y/n up with him. “Your neck,” he muttered, gently tilting her chin up for a better view.

“Shit,” Tom hissed, upset he’d momentarily forgotten about seeing the knife slice y/n’s neck. He eyed the thin line with a deep frown. “We need to get you to the hospital.”

Y/n huffed. “Tom, please, I just… I just wanna lay down and sleep,” she cried.

Tom sucked in his lips and nodded in understanding. “Okay. You will,” he promised. “Just after you get that cut looked at,” Tom declared. “Don’t worry, I’m going with you,” he said upon seeing the fear return to y/n’s eyes.

“You didn’t tell me she clawed your back,” Tom sighed, squeezing y/n’s hand as the doctor gave y/n a tetanus booster shot.

“I forgot,” y/n laughed humorously. She sighed, “doesn’t really hurt too much though”.

Tom nodded. “And your throat?” He questioned, eyeing the bandage covering her neck.

“That one hurts like a bitch,” y/n admitted with a quiet laugh. “But, I’ll be fine,” She promised. “But…Tom…. I….” y/n trailed off.

“You what, love?” Tom inquired.

“I don’t really… umm..” y/n sighed and cleared her throat. She immediately winced at the pain that shot through her as a result. Y/n huffed and looked back at Tom, who was watching her with a sorrowful look. “I don’t want to go home… I… I know she’s gone… but…”

Tom nodded rapidly, squeezing y/n’s hand again. “We’re not going back there,” He promised. “W-when the police are umm,… done with their stuff… I’ll have Harry hire some people to help move our stuff out,” Tom stated.

Y/n smiled appreciatively at how Tom had already considered her not wanting to go back there after tonight. “But… Where are we going to stay? You are staying with me still, right?” She asked nervously.

“Of course!” Tom promised. “For now, I can take time off and we can go back to London. Or, we’ll get a hotel or new apartment until the show wraps. Whatever you want darling,” he comforted.

“You need to finish-“ y/n began. She noticed Tom was about to argue with her so she smiled and shook her head. “I want you to finish. But I won’t argue to you taking a few days off right now,” she admitted bashfully.

Tom sighed with relief, not wanting to go back to work just yet. More so, not wanting to be away from y/n again just yet. “Okay, so new place it is, we’ll get a hotel for tonight,” he decided. “Then, figure it out from there,” Tom said softly.

Y/n nodded and smiled lightly at Tom. “Can we go now?” She asked.

Tom chuckled quietly. “Once you’re cleared, darling,” he said, looking at the doctor.

“You’re all patched up, let me just get the discharge paperwork for you to sign and the at-home instructions to take care of your wounds,” the doctor offered with a sympathetic smile. “Then you’re free to go,” he told the couple as he left the room.

Y/n sighed and squeezed Tom’s hand. She was beyond ready to get out of the hospital. To be somewhere comfortable and safe. With Tom.

“In addition to the guards outside,” Tom said, nodding his head towards the door to y/n’s emergency room where a few of his security were. “I tasked Harry with booking the safest hotel he can find. I’m also going to have guards on each entrance to the hotel, and one outside watching our room if we have a patio, and a couple in the hallway by our door, they’ve been told they’ll be working around the clock, and-“ he rambled.

“Tom, I appreciate all of that,” y/n confessed. “But… She’s been arrested. I don’t think we need that many…” she argued.

Tom nodded. “You’re probably right. But… I know you keep saying it’s not my fault….” He sighed. “But, I can’t help it… please just let me do this for you, until things settle down?”

Y/n smiled warmly and nodded. “Okay, thank you.”

“Tom, you can sleep now, we’re safe,” y/n promised, snuggling into his side as he held her.

“I know,” Tom whispered. “I just want to stay awake and just hold you for a bit,” he confessed. “But, please, rest darling, you’ve had a terribly long day,” Tom pleaded, kissing y/n’s forehead.

Y/n hummed quietly as she breathed in Tom’s cologne. “I love you,” she whispered, melting into his embrace.

“I love you too,” Tom replied, smiling down at y/n. “Thank you for being such a fighter today,” he added, tenderly running his thumb over the space between her brows to soothe her. Tom grinned to himself as he watched y/n quickly drift off to sleep. He didn’t know what he would’ve done if things had gone differently today, but he was glad he didn’t have to find out.

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[bonesandchalamet]

a Monaco Grand Prix - t.holland

masterlist

pairing: Tom holland x mercedes intern!fem!reader

warnings: some flirting + possible minor errors

a/n: inspired by the Monaco gp today! combining my love for Tom and formula 1 into this! if you like formula 1, you can find my sports masterlist on @thatsdemko 🥰

“you can’t just be nice and give him a tour?” your boss, Toto Wolff, gives you a glare that’s almost killer. one that you know will bite you in the ass, if you don’t just take the opportunity to show the famous celebrity around the paddock.

you know it’s part of your job. if you want your placement to be permanent, you’ll have to do whatever the boss says, and that being showing a famous prick around the Monaco paddock.

you nod, “I’ll do it.” you swallow the nervous jitters, as you turn out of the Mercedes hospitality to the one and only Tom holland making his way through media, other formula 1 interns, and press.

he’s headed to you with his security guards. a bright pearly white smile on his face as climbs the steps, hand extended, “ah you must be y/n! I was told you’d show me around.” his British accent brings warmth to your ears as it visibly spreads to your cheeks taking his hand in yours.

you’ve completely forgot why you didn’t want to do this in the first place. after having met the Tom holland, you’d do anything your boss asks you to do.

“right this way, Mr. Holland, let me show you our new and improved cars for this weekends race.”

—

each spot you took him to came with a variety questions and expression, god he was cute, was all you could think about. he was attentive and listened to your tidbits and nerdy jokes, he could tell you really loved your job and took formula 1 as serious as it was.

“and this is the Red Bull garage, legally I’m not allowed in there or else I’ll be reported for spying. but go on in, I’m sure Christian Horner would love to see you.” you gesture for the actor to step inside the garage and join the couple of other famous people you could see from where you stood.

as badly as he wanted to step in and have the cameras pointed on him, he didn’t mind keeping a lower profile and decline the offer to do so, “if you can’t go in then I definitely shouldn’t.” he laughs pulling out his phone to show you his Lewis Hamilton lockscreen, “I’d be murdered in there.”

“that makes two of us.” you giggle, pulling out your phone to show him the picture of you and Lewis on your first day. he’s a bit jealous as a claims, but you’re sure he’s had more opportunities to meet him than you have. considering you rarely see the drivers— except for Mick Schumacher.

“ah I’m hoping to get a picture with him like that too!” he carefully taps his finger against your screen to get another look at the picture; two of you smiling from ear to ear in Bahrain.

“I don’t have the privileges to get you to meet him, but considering your fame status? I’m sure by the end of this weekend you’ll see him more times than me.” you gesture for him to follow and he keeps up as you pass the McLaren, where Oscar piastri and lando norris are doing final placements.

“what if I want to see you more by the end of this weekend?” he asks, the words slipping off his tongue before he can filter them out. his hand flies over his lips; security guard chuckling at his intrusive thoughts winning. flirty words were easy for Tom, but he didn’t expect to find himself using a line on you this early on the tour.

you can feel the red hue quickly spread to your cheeks, it’s more noticeable than the last time he got your attention that way. he moved into your field of vision turning to face you, rather than the cars, “I mean I could always use a tour guide around Monaco?” he shrugs, hand finding the nape of his neck as he nervously plays with the hairs there.

“ask me when I’m off the clock, then legally I can answer.”

—

you thought he would’ve forgotten by now. it was hours after you gave him his own private tour of the paddock, and somehow? he was still there.

most people— fans, media, press, and other members of formula 1— had vacated the paddock following an early rise tomorrow for the big race, but not Tom. he’d stuck out waiting around, taking pictures with the few fans left, and even getting his picture with the infamous Lewis Hamilton.

“I see you finally got your picture.” you say as you make your way down those same hospitality steps to close the gap of where he stood off to the side.

“yeah, but I didn’t get that guaranteed tour of Monaco yet?”

“will I get paid by the end of the tour?” you raise an eyebrow watching his words stumble out of his mouth, words not even forming sentences you tripped him hard, “I’m joking, Tom, but I get off of work tomorrow late, so your tour will have to wait.”

he nods eager, but still slow enough to not show much of his excitement, “I can wait until then. I’ll find you here tomorrow evening?”

“deal, and I don’t take checks as a form of payment.”