#cuz this reflection also mentions yet another current universe

[eggsnatcheskneecaps]

This game is never going to stop giving me a headache about Momo's lore is it?

[porterporker]

christmas with the hollands - th x reader

a/n: you’re american in this (sorry if that ruins the mood) but if you squint you can’t tell; this feels kind of rushed to me so i’m sorry about that but i wanted to get it out before the end of the holidays (it is currently the 11th Day of Christmas EST thank you very much)

warnings: smut! very fluffy tho because ya girl is sick of being stuck in hookup culture-land (aka college / your twenties)

what i listened to while writing: lofi christmas beats (via youtube lmao) and cuz i love you album by lizzo [the transition from lingerie to boys is where the majority of this sex scene was written]

(This is the first real writing I’ve done in...years, so feedback is greatly appreciated. I’ve also never written smut so uh if this feels unnatural that’s why lmao. Much love darlings!!)

(also not my gif)

Your leg bounces as Tom turns the steering wheel of the car, guiding the vehicle onto a main road. 

“Stop doing that, you know the Hollands adore you,” he says without even looking at you.

“Stop doing what?”

 You know exactly what, but it’s more of a reflex than something you can control at this point. 

Tom puts his hand just above your knee and gives it a reassuring squeeze. 

“I’m serious. You’ve been on vacations with us before, why is Christmas freaking you out?”

 He steals a meaningful glance at you. Although there’s a light smirk on his face, his eyes reflect both a concern for your nervousness and a confidence in you. You can tell he means the words coming out of his mouth, but it’s still hard to calm your nerves.

“I don’t know, it’s -- it’s such a family thing, so many traditions, I just --” you sigh. “It’s intimate, you know? I feel like I’m intruding on something that’s just meant for you and your family.” 

It’s only for a moment that he stays silent, mulling over the anxieties you’ve expressed and the best way to calm them, but for you it feels like an eternity. 

“Pull over,” you break the silence. “Let me drive, it will calm my nerves to focus on something else.”

Tom gives your thigh another squeeze. 

“(y/n), we’re ten minutes away and there’s no good place to pull off. Just take deep breaths, okay?” His voice is soft, and it envelopes you like a warm embrace. “You are family, okay, and mum and dad and the boys, they all feel that way too. I promise, you belong here with us.” 

His kind brown eyes meet yours for only a second, but the earnest care they convey grounds you, and your shaking leg slowly comes to a halt. 

“Is this how you felt when we had Thanksgiving with my family?”

Although you two have been dating for a year and a couple of months, the first holiday he spent with you and your family was Thanksgiving a few weeks ago. For all the others in between, he was either shooting, or doing a press tour, or your university didn’t give you the holiday break. 

Finally, Thanksgiving worked out because he happened to have some time between projects, and you didn’t have to try to decide whose parents’ house to go to for the holiday for, well, obvious reasons. 

Tom hums in thought. 

“I don’t think I was nearly as nervous as you are now, if I’m honest, but I’ve never had a Thanksgiving before, per se, and the whole historical context was kind of weird, so if you’re not sure what you’re going to walk into, I do kind of get the feeling ,” he laughs. 

You giggle too, placing your hand on top of his. You’re able to breathe normally for the time being knowing Tom is on your side. 

Soon enough, he’s pulling into the driveway, parking the car, and hurrying over to the passenger side to open your door for you -- ever the gentleman. You smile at him appreciatively as he takes your hand and leads you to the door. Before you can even ring the doorbell, Mrs. Holland is opening the door with a big smile on her face, giving you both hugs and ushering you in the house. 

As soon as you step into the threshold, you almost chide yourself for being nervous at all. Tom’s family is thrilled to have you here, sharing their Christmas traditions. You find comfort in the smiling faces that surround you. You’re making your rounds with greetings, about to hug Sam, when Tessa comes bounding into the room -- straight to you. 

She practically jumps into your arms, and you pick her up, cradling the large dog like a baby. Tom’s outrage only makes you laugh harder.

“What am I, then, chopped liver?” He asks incredulously. 

“I guess you’re not the favorite anymore, Tom,” his mother laughs as Tess continues to wag her tail.

“Yeah, mate, how’s it feel to be dethroned?” Harry chimes in with twinkles in his eyes. 

Tom shakes his head, lowering his face to the dog’s very seriously. 

“You’re a bloody traitor, you know that?” Tessa happily licks his face in response. 

“Nikki, could you use any help in the kitchen?” you ask politely.

“Right, like you’d be any help in there,” Tom jabs playfully, putting the gifts you brought under the tree. “Mum, you always said I’d be destined to end up with someone as bad at cooking as myself.” 

You feign shock and offense, and he wiggles his eyebrows at you.

“Tom, darling, no one is as bad of a cook as you,” Nikki says, throwing you a wink. 

“We’re actually almost done in here, there are just a few rolls in the oven,” she assures you. “Harry, dear, go get them something to drink.”

You move to the dining room to sit down at the table. Tom soon joins you, placing his hand back on your thigh as it had been on the drive over. 

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he says into your ear, louder than a whisper, but quiet enough that only you hear it. You smile up at him, giving his hand an affectionate squeeze as Harry comes back with your beverages, Dominic in tow. 

“Ah! Tom and his better half. I’m so glad you could make it,” he grins, taking a seat across from you. 

“Hey!”

You grin at him while Tom glowers at the ‘better half’ comment. 

Harry gives his older brother a flick on the forehead. “Mate, just because you play smart, badass people in movies doesn’t mean you’re those things in real life,” he says cheekily. 

“Alright, Harry, that’s enough,” he chuckles, rolling his eyes. “I guess I can’t deny the better half comment.”

Tom’s looking at you with a sparkle in his eyes that conveys more love than it seems like any one human being could ever deserve. 

“You can’t, and you shouldn’t,” Tom’s father laughs. “Now (y/n), tell us about that internship Tom’s mentioned.”

You smile, talking excitedly about the internship you just landed in the city. 

Before you know it, amongst the jokes and laughs, Nikki and the rest of the boys come out from the kitchen carrying half a dozen scrumptious-looking dishes. Paddy comes to sit next to you, and you’re happy to serve him the foods he can’t reach. Tom always talks about him like he’s a baby, but he’s got to be fourteen or fifteen by now. He can definitely hold his own, and definitely didn’t need your help reaching anything, but he was too nice to say so. 

As dinner went on, Tom’s hand hadn’t left your thigh. Through all the jokes and banter -- mostly at his expense, although you could see the proud twinkles in his family members' eyes as they gave him a hard time -- his left hand didn’t budge, his thumb absentmindedly rubbing circles through the fabric of your dress. It’s a small gesture, and although he’s usually a little more reserved around his family, you’re grateful for the contact.

It’s about ten o’clock on this fine Christmas Eve when Tom lets out a big yawn, stretching his arms out wide. You suspect it might be for show, the theatrics only a little bit outside of his normal day-to-day mannerisms. 

Your suspicions are confirmed when he winks at you. It’s a sly wink that only you are meant to receive, and your stomach flips thinking about what he has in mind for you. He excuses the two of you, and you can’t help but wonder if his parents and brothers have any idea about their eldest’s antics. 

Once you’re out of sight of his family, he picks you up bridal style and carries you to his childhood room. You giggle, trying not to be too loud as you pepper kisses on his neck and shoulders. He closes the door, gracefully tossing you onto the bed. 

“Your dress has been driving me nuts,” he admits. “I didn’t want to tell you in the car because you were freaking out so bad, but you look absolutely ravishing, darling.” He’s hovering over you now. 

Sat up towards the head of the bed with his face in your hands, you take in the man before you. Disheveled, curly hair, oh so tuggable, pink-tinted, rosey cheeks, deep, beautiful brown eyes. God did you want him to ravish you. But not just yet.

You cock an eyebrow. “So all the times your hand found its way to my thigh this evening -- reassuring me of my worries, or just an excuse to touch me?” 

He fake gasps. “I can’t believe you would think such a thing! Can’t an act bring both you reassurance and me pleasure?” 

You giggle, shaking your head, and pull him down to you for a kiss. He melts into you immediately, and you can’t help but feel like your lips were made for his; you can’t help but feel like you’re home. He slips his tongue into your mouth, lazily deepening the kiss. Your back arches up to feel his firm body against yours. Tom grunts, running his hands up and down your chest through your dress. 

Breaking the kiss, you nuzzle into his neck, licking and sucking your way to the sweet spot connecting his shoulder to his collarbone. He whines, rutting down into you. 

“You’re on break from the cameras, right?” you moan into his ear.

“Yeah, for now,” he pants, suspicious of your question. “Why?”

You can’t help the smirk that forms. “So I can finally mark you up?”

He immediately stops rocking his hips, lifting his pelvis off of yours, and you whine at the loss of friction.

“Babe, the cameras won’t see me, but my family will,” he whisper-shouts. 

You roll your eyes, unbuttoning his dress shirt.

“That didn’t stop you at the premiere! Or on my birthday,” you protest, thinking back to all of the times you’d had to don a scarf on a particularly warm day just because Tom loves to show the world you’re his. 

You wrap your legs around his hips, trying to pull him back down onto you -- he doesn’t budge. Smirking, Tom shimmies out of his dress shirt, tossing it to the floor. He doesn’t answer you. Instead, he brings his lips down to your neck, sucking bruises into his favorite spots.

“Tom,” you whimper, gripping onto his bare shoulders, legs wrapping around him. “You fucking asshole.”

He looks up, a shit-eating grin on his face. “Princess can dish it out but can’t take the heat? Is that what I’m hearing?” 

You wanna kiss the goddamn smirk off of his perfect-cheekboned face. 

“Stop being such a tease,” you huff, out of breath. “I didn’t pack my concealer.” 

“Alright, alright,” Tom has the audacity to giggle at you. He kisses you, and you’re so caught up in the feeling of his lips on your own that you don’t realize until after he breaks it that he was sliding your panties down off your legs. 

He places a kiss below your earlobe. “This more your speed, darlin’?” He whispers into your ear, running his hands up and down your thighs. You shiver, wide-eyed, suddenly finding your voice gone. All you can do is nod a little too vigorously. 

Tom pulls your dress up over your head, and you suck in your breath as the cool air hits your warm skin. You wiggle out of your bra, and he wastes no time kissing his way down your body, spending a little bit of extra time on each of your breasts. You bite your lip to hold in a moan, squirming under his touch. 

“Don’t hold back, babygirl. You know I love to hear you,” he says softly, his brown eyes a beautiful mix of lust and adoration, both enough to make you blush.

 As per his instructions, you release a noise -- a mix of a moan and a humph -- in frustration as Tom kisses the insides of your thighs. He chuckles against your skin, and the light vibrations are not helping the heat practically radiating out of your center only a few inches away. Your legs instinctively close in order to help your growing problem, but alas. Tom just tuts at you, pushing your legs up and out. 

They’re more or less over his shoulders when he’s finally delving into your wet heat. You let out a gasp as Tom’s tongue comes into contact with your bundle of nerves. Your head is thrown back into the pillows as he gets to work, alternating between massaging kitten licks and sucking in such a way that makes sharp, white-hot pangs run through your nether regions.

“Fuck, shit, T-Tom--” you’re trying to get your breathing under control, but it’s all you can really hear as you let out a string of whimpers. 

Your hands snake themselves into his hair and grip hard as he smirks at you. Maintaining eye contact, Tom slides a smooth, thick finger into you as he continues to pleasure your sensitive clit. Your jaw slacks and for a moment you’re seeing stars as he pumps in and out. 

Your boyfriend has to place his other arm firmly over your hips in order to stop them from bucking up into his mouth. Meanwhile, you’re squirming and your quiet, reserved whimpers have turned into full-on moans as he adds another finger into you. 

Tom’s fingers are moving faster and faster in and out of you, his mouth is sucking double-time on your clit, and your entire body feels like it’s on fire as you feel an orgasm building. 

“Tom,” you choke out. “I-I’m close-- baby.” You hate the fact that you’re begging and you hate how proud of himself Tom is going to look when you can form full sentences again. 

He knows how to finish you off. As if he could read your mind, he starts curling his fingers inside you in that motion -- you know the one -- with every thrust, and somewhere in the back of your mind you feel kind of bad about how badly his arm must hurt at your expense. 

Your orgasm builds through your entire body, overtaking you as you let out a completely filthy moan. Tom continues to finger you through it, leaning down to kiss your lips. 

If you weren’t already beat read from exertion, you would have turned pink from the realization that you were tasting your own juices on his tongue. Swallowing the noises and expletives that threaten to spill out from your mouth, Tom slows the pumping of his fingers and you have to break the kiss to catch your breath. 

“Shit, baby,” he whispers, sticking his fingers into his mouth. It’s all you can do not to moan out loud because  o h  m y  g o d  t h a t  i s  s o  o b s c e n e -- “You look so fucking beautiful right now, I almost can’t stand it.”

You laugh, placing another kiss onto his lips. “I could say the same about you,” you mumble, reaching down for his belt buckle. “I can’t believe I’m completely naked and you’re still wearing your dress pants,” you let out another giggle.

“Well that’s something I can fix.” 

You roll off the bed to search Tom’s  travel bags for a condom and a bottle of lube, purposefully trying not to limp as to keep your boyfriend’s ego in check. 

“Are you limping, princess?”

Well there goes that. 

You shake your head, cheeks tinted pink. “Shut up, Tom,” is all you can say as you join him on the bed, both of you completely naked. 

He smiles at you, cupping your cheeks with his hands. “Not to get all sappy moments before I jump your bones,” he starts, making you laugh again. 

“But I- when I said you’re part of the family, I meant it. I’m so in love with you, (y/n), and today, seeing how much my family really loves you, too -- I-” he falters. “You just mean so much to me.”

“Tom,” you whisper, fighting back the tears forming in the corners of your eyes. You take his hands, staring up into his face. You’ve never felt this much adoration before. “I love you so much. And I am so blessed to have you. I mean that with every fiber in my being.” 

Another giggle slips out. “Please jump my bones, loverboy.”

Tom smirks, taking your hands and kissing them. “Anything for my girl.”

You help him put on the condom, giving his member a few lubed-up strokes for good measure. Tom kisses you, slowly but fiercely, with a certain gentleness but also passion. He lays you down against the pillows, lips never leaving yours. 

You break the kiss as you spread your legs for him, waiting in anticipation as he lines himself up. 

“You ready love?” He whispers into the dim lighting of his room. You hum in response, pulling his face back down to yours by his curls. 

It feels like the whole house is filled with the chorus of moans, groans, and expletives released into the air when Tom pushes into you. He buries his face into your neck as he starts to thrust into you. 

Your fingernails rake up and down the smooth skin of his back, and you let out a moan of satisfaction when you hear the quiet whimpers your marks elicit.

“Fuck-” he pants into your neck. “You’re so good, baby- F-feel so good around me--”

You let out a moan so explicit-sounding you’d be embarrassed that it came from your own body if it weren’t for Tom fucking your brains out like it was his God-given right.

“Tom,” you cry, still sensitive from your first orgasm.

“Let go, baby,” he chokes out. “Watching you in that dress all night, seeing how fucked out you look -- I’m close- fuck. I’m close too.” 

You feel your orgasm coming on as he whispers encouragement into your ear. “Such a pretty girl,” he murmurs. “So good for me, princess.”

It feels like the breath is ripped out of your lungs as the orgasm racks your entire body. “Fuck, shit-- Tom, I’m--” you whimper out his name as if it’s the only word you know. 

He’s close behind you as your walls clench around him. “Uh- Shit, babygirl-” he moans, sloppily thrusting up into you. Your name spills out of his mouth repeatedly like it’s a prayer as he rides out his high.

You clutch at his shoulders as you pant together, your combined body heat enough to start a small fire. 

“Fuck,” you whisper, placing a chaste kiss on his lips. 

“You can say that again,” Tom chuckles. His big brown eyes search your face as he finally drops down off his elbows and just lies on top of your naked body. 

“Fuck,” you repeat, laughing. 

You cradle his face in yours hands, enjoying the post-orgasm glow surrounding your embrace like a protective bubble.

“So, be honest,” you break the moment of silence.

“Yeah?” Tom raises an eyebrow, glancing up at you. 

“How many people have you taken to this very bed? Your childhood room?” 

He laughs out loud at that. “Oh, (y/n), wouldn’t you like to know,” he jokes, sucking a hickey into your breast. 

You shake your head, running your hands through his tousled sex hair. “That many, huh?” You try to fight back the slight jealousy that rises in your chest. 

He can probably sense your reaction, which is probably why he says this: “I’ve never met a woman that’s made me want to go to town in the same house as my parents and baby brothers until courting you.” 

He can’t say it with a straight face, mostly because he used the word “courting”, and you can’t take him seriously. 

“Alright, kiss-ass, you already got laid,” you laugh, shooing him off of you. “Get out of me, I’m going to clean myself up.” 

The two of you stumble around in your post-sex haze, laughing a little too loud at jokes that aren’t even jokes, cleaning yourselves up and getting ready to go to bed. 

You finally climb back in, wearing one of his shirts -- which isn’t as big as you might think, and doesn’t even cover your thighs -- and a fresh pair of panties. He’s wearing nothing but a (thankfully clean) pair of boxers. You curl into his side almost immediately, finally letting the fatigue get to you. 

“Merry Christmas, Tom,” you mumble, fading out of consciousness.

“Happy Christmas, love.” He lazily throws an arm around your shoulders and settles against the pillows, drifting into a pleasant sleep of his own.

___________________________________________________________

Bonus Scene:

The next morning, you’re lying in silence, just enjoying each other’s company, when Tom gasps. 

“What?” You shoot up in bed, thinking the worst. “What, what’s wrong ?” 

He hands you his phone and his headphones, saying nothing. It’s a video of Harry, sitting up in bed with the lights off looking generally disgusted. To your horror, you hear moans, whimpers, and your own voice choking out Tom’s name in ecstasy. The fairy lights Harry has strung up in his room are jiggling, and soon enough they fall down behind his bedframe as you hear Tom let out a string of cuss words followed by your name. 

Harry rolls his eyes at the camera, flipping it off. You're mortified, no question -- but part of you is a little turned on from hearing last night's activities played back. When Tom grunts your name, you can't help but feel proud.

Your face bright red, you hand Tom back the phone. 

“Please tell me he only sent that to you.”

Tom chuckles, shaking his head.

“Group chat with Haz and Sam. He said, ‘For the love of God, get your own damn place.’”

You groan. “So the whole damn family knows now, huh?”

"Harrison said--"

"Stop!" you cry out, burying your head in Tom's shoulder. "I don't wanna know. How are we ever going to live this down?"

He kisses your head. “I’ll run out after we exchange gifts and see if I can find noise-cancelling headphones. Tell him Santa forgot a present.”