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#tom holland fan fic
shawnxstyles · 9 months
Note
Omg! Panty stealer pt2 is sooooo gooood! Cocky and dom Peter absolutely blew my mind! Your writing is awesome!
Pleeeeease tell me that it will be third part to fulfill the panty trilogy! As humble suggestion maybe reader find out that Pete is SpiderMan and he will finally get head from her while he is in his spidey costume? Or maybe more than just blowjob?Hehehe Am I very bad and naughty that I'm typing this to you? 🥵🤤
Anyways love ya darling! You're smashing it!
in the suit
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words: 3k
warnings: smut; (m- receiving [oral], dirty talk), language, and fluff of course. barely edited.
note: panty!peter blurb #1 coming up :D also, this is the way i believe y/n would have found out about spider-man, but i have another request for the same thing so i’ll probably do an alternative version!
you couldn’t stop thinking about it. how?
how does peter manage to get into your room every night? okay, not every night, but most nights.
most nights, peter magically and mysteriously sneaks his way up into your forbidden bedroom with ease. sometimes, you even wait and watch outside your window to try to get a peak at what he’s doing. but you never see him.
he’s just so slick. how does he do it?
you and peter have been together for over a month now, if you’re counting the day he broke in. the feeling isn’t necessarily new in your heart. you feel like you’ve known him your whole life. like he’s always just… been there.
through this month of stability yet craziness, you haven’t gone back to the frat house since the halloween party. you thought that after you guys got together you would stay there more often, but peter doesn’t want you to be ‘attacked’ by the guys. meaning, he doesn’t want them to ask a million questions when you guys are supposed to be private. you thought his excuse was dumb, but he was also just being a bit protective.
in reality, peter just didn’t know how to get you into the frat house without anyone seeing you. you both had agreed that your relationship was going to be kept private, very private. people could spread rumors and assume you two were together, but you weren’t going to show each other off. you guys liked it this way, it made your relationship more special because it was just for you two.
peter had a sixth sense, sticky fingers, and webs. it was pretty easy for him to crawl up into your room especially because you didn’t have security cameras (maybe you guys should get some at some point though…). you would constantly ask him how he does it since you live on the second floor and it was high up. but peter responds by not responding and instead laughs and kisses you. god, he was too good at distracting you.
but tonight, you were determined to find out.
peter had already texted you earlier and said he wouldn’t be able to stop by tonight because of overbearing homework. you completely understood, and sent him a good luck and goodnight to me then message. but truly, you were sneaking out and heading towards the frat.
you put on your sneakers and a hoodie, pulling the strings tightly around your head. the early december weather was no joke in massachusetts, and your thermal leggings were barely helping to keep you warm. as quietly as possible, you leave through the back door, making sure not to alert anyone or anything. not like you have a system to alert though.
you cut through some of the hedges until you’re in the front yard and the frat is staring at you from across the street. taking a deep, chilly breath, you cross the road with your frozen fingers tucked in your pocket.
all the lights in the top rooms were off, except one. you’re not totally sure which one is peter’s, but what other frat guy would stay up until 11 p.m. working on homework?
maybe ned, but he sleeps downstairs.
you walk until you’re under the window, the yellowish light taunting you. there was no latter, vine, rope, or magic hair to get you into the bedroom. the houses were built very similarly, and you know he doesn’t bring a latter with him.
so how does he do it?
you take a glance at your surroundings. the biggest difference of your houses was that the guys’ didn’t have large garden hedges. they just had a shit ton of messy bushes that they should probably trim once in a while.
having no ideas, you try to jump towards the window. great, that’s totally going to help you. maybe you’ll get some super jump that can spring you up and inside.
you feel stupid. yeah, peter may be the smartest person on campus and going to mit on a full academic scholarship, but how does he sneak into your room? with geometry? you didn’t think so.
wait.
what if… he’s hiding something from you?
that would explain why he’s so weird about it. letting the impulsive decisions take you over, you throw a rock at his window. hopefully, you’ll get his attention and he’ll come down, so you can see how he does it. or he’ll just go through the front door… whatever he does, you need to ask him this question right now. or else you’ll never be able to sleep again.
when throwing the rock gets tedious and noisy, you quit. just as you’re about to drop to the ground in annoyance, you hear a distant whipping sound. you hold your breath as if the person whipping will hear you.
fuck. it wasn’t a good idea for you to go out at night.
suddenly feeling anxious and scared, you slowly creep towards the sorority house. you don’t get too far before you see a body flinging through the air. the whipping noise gets closer and closer to you with every web on the streetlights. what the…
there’s only one person that could possibly be doing the impossible.
spider-man.
but what was he doing in your little neighborhood? this was one of the safest places in the area, so he didn’t need to check up here. there were so many more places in massachusetts that needed saving. feeling beyond curious, your feet scatter to hide you behind one of the untrimmed bushes.
you watch through crowded leaves as spider-man swings through the neighborhood, getting towards you. it’s like he can sense you and he’s coming for you. your heart thumps wildly in your chest, nervous about seeing him. you’ve never seen him before, and at least not in person. he was popular on the newspaper and television screens, but never on the street. unless you lived within the city.
with one long and final thwip, spider-man flings himself towards the frat house.
what. the…
you place your hand over your mouth, just in case your breathing is too loud. you intensely watch as the spider crawls up the white wall and towards the only lit window in the whole house.
no. fucking. way.
before you could fully register what you were seeing, you felt the gasp leave your mouth. you slap both of your hands on your face to shut yourself up. you nearly fall back on your heels as spider-man halts his movements. he scans his surroundings before jumping down the wall entirely.
your eyes are wide and your hands of shaking. you’ve never felt your heart beat so unbelievably fast, but you’ve also never been more afraid. what does he do to people that find out? what is going to happen to your relationship?
the body of blue and red stocks closer to the bushes with careful steps. you try to scoot away, but your back hits the fence. the wood creaks, your actions not quiet enough. his footsteps pick up speed as they rush to the bushes with determination.
spider-man jumps over the plant with grace, hoping to see a wild animal of some sort. but when he sees his girl with the most shocked and terrified expression in the world, he immediately falls to his knees.
“y/n,” he calmly says, slowly inching to you. he doesn’t hesitate to comfort you as peter. you don’t move, you just listen. “it’s okay. i promise.”
now that he sensed you, peter could hear your heartbeat overbearingly in his ears. he could hear your muffled breaths under your palm, and he just wanted to soothe your fear.
“baby,” he wanted to cuddle your body until you stopped shaking. you weren’t crying, you were just in shock. peter takes a quick glance at his surroundings before yanking off his mask and kneeling, so you could see his face reflecting off the moonlight. “it’s just me.”
“i…” you whispered as your hands fell from your face. peter doesn’t hesitate to grab them gently with his gloved ones. “…knew it.”
“you knew i was spider-man?”
“well… for like five seconds,” you flusteredly laugh while trying to recover. you still haven’t gotten used to this. well it’s only been a minute. “i knew you were hiding something.”
“what are you doing out this late anyway?” he stares straight up at the moon as it shines vehemently over you both.
“uh… well,” you start, “i was kind of curious as to how you always snuck into my bedroom without a latter or something, so i went to see? i don’t really know what i was looking for.”
peter chuckles. “but you found your answer, yeah?”
“yeah, i did,” you smile with sweetness as peter helps you up from the grass floor.
“it’s different breaking into your room rather than mine,” you say as you sit on the edge of peter’s bed. you watch as he tosses his mask inside of a box labeled books. “so that’s what was in the box. not dirty magazines.”
“surprise?” peter laughs and you giggle at his shyness. his cheeks and nose were red from the cold, but also from the slight blush that crossed them. you made him feel all warm and tingly inside, and even a little gooey.
his hand reaches for the button on his chest. it deflates, instantly becoming huge around him.
“wait,” you stop him before he undresses himself. he looks towards you. “can i just… look at you for a moment? in the suit?”
a small smirk creeps up his face. peter clicks the button again and his suit encloses on his body, outlining his muscles perfectly. every ridge and curve of him was being shown off by the spandex. you felt a spark of lust fire inside of you at the sight.
“like me in my suit, baby?” he teased as he trudged over to you. you stood up from the bed to meet his buff chest. you nodded with a bite of your lip.
he nearly growls before attaching your lips. it’s barely been a day since he’s last kissed you, but that’s too long for him. his gloved hand grips your jaw to deepen the kiss while your hands explore his messy hair.
the heat between you was undeniable. you were getting worked up over peter in his suit, and that’s something you never thought was possible. because you didn’t think peter being spider-man was possible.
is there a spider-man kink?
you take your shirt off after breaking the kiss, but resume it in no time. as he pushes you onto the bed, you stop him, having a new idea in mind.
“peter,” you sigh, spandex body hovering over yours.
“you okay?”
“yeah, yes. i just…” you swallowed, “can i…”
you didn’t really get your question out. you just slithered your body off the bed until your knees were digging into his carpet. peter’s eyebrows shoot up as he stares down at your figure, submissive below him.
“fuck. you want to touch my cock?” peter was already growing hard at the idea of fucking you in his suit. he found it hot that you found his suit hot. everything seemed to be a turn on right now. but now you were on your fucking knees like an angel and damn near begging to touch him?
how could he say no?
“go ahead then, sweet girl,” peter allows, but you stay still.
“how do i take it off—?”
“right—”
he unzips a zipper that you swear wasn’t there before. you barely take him fully out before you’re drooling at the sight. he was big and thick, and you don’t think you’d ever get used to looking at and feeling him.
your thumb drags over his weepy tip and he winces at your freezing touch.
“sorry!” you exclaimed with a funky smile. he forcefully laughs while you spit warmth into your hand.
“it’s okay, baby.”
your delicate hand wraps around him as you shift up and down. he sighs into the air, eyes fluttering back. your other hand scratches his thighs lightly. then, you fondle his balls until he’s groaning above you.
“fuck, darling,” he moans as his rough hand rests on your head. with his grip on you, you feel inclined to put your mouth on him. you’re barely an inch away, so what are you waiting for?
your lips pucker as you kiss his veiny shaft. you see from the top of your eyes how his face floods with pleasure, and your ego rises.
“if you look at me like that again, i’m going to explode, baby,” peter husks with his fingers laced in your hair for support.
with a hummed chuckle, you finally place your mouth on him. you suck on his leaky tip as a deep groan elicits from him. his noises always give you a bunch of reassurance, so you hum against him in satisfaction.
“takin’ me so well,” peter forces himself to stay still and let you do all the work. although, his hips just want to break free and ram into the back of your throat until you lose your voice. for another time… “love when you’re on your knees for me.”
you vibrated a moan against his cock as you took him deeper, a little more than half way. you were never the best at giving head because you couldn’t go that far down without gagging atrociously, but after peter showed you a better technique, for breathing and comfort, he thought you were a professional.
“you like being on your knees for me? or for spider-man?”
a groggy moan rippled around his cock from your filled throat, confirming his suspicions. you were definitely turned of the idea of peter as spider-man, and because of that, he was too. every time you were horny, peter was too.
you released your hands from him and braced them on his thighs. you focused and remembered the small notes he’s given you before. you take a long breath before sinking his cock deep in the back of your mouth. your thumb stabs your palm to eliminate your gag reflex, and it works. your nose nudges the base of his cock and you can see up close how his abs contract tightly.
“fuck! doing so good for me. going to make me come, sweet girl.”
hearing this, you bob and twist your head with a goal. your tongue swirls exploring around each ridge like it’s never tasted the plain before. peter was delicious; he was sweet with a pinch of saltiness that made you a fan of giving head. you would get on your knees any day for him.
his cock twitches in your mouth, warning you that he’s coming. you feel his hips buck into you as he strongly yanks your hair. you groan as he lets himself go.
“where do you want it? on your face? chest? or are you going to swallow it like a good girl?”
even when his dick twitches again, you don’t make an effort to move. you lick the underside of him, which sends peter over the edge.
a string of hushed groans fall from his pink lips as his muscles clench. ropes of his orgasm spurts down your throat, and you swallow every drop like a champ. well, almost all. parts of his come drip from the corner of your lip as he slowly pulls out of you.
the second he exits you, your jaw is instantly sore and achy, but it was worth it. to see the flustered and breathless peter above you was worthless everytime. peter was nearly disoriented by how fucking incredible your mouth was. how you were.
he tucks himself back into his suit as you remain on the floor. he leans down and helps you up, your knees popping in the process.
“how was it this time?” you croaked, voice cracking horrendously. peter tries not to laugh as he wipes away the nearly dried sperm on your face. you open your mouth without a thought, and he sticks his thumb in your mouth for you to lick it clean.
“it was good. fucking amazing. impeccable. exceeded expectations. outstanding performance—”
“okay, okay i get it. you’re a nerd!” you brokenedly laugh as you shove his chest. you got a sudden wave of chills because you were starting to get a bit cold. your body was still running hot because you were still, well, turned on.
“nerds are awesome, okay? they know everything.”
“like what? impress me,” you challenge as you throw your leg on top of his lap and get yourself seated. he smirks, feeling his cock chuff up a bit already. you were beyond soaked in your panties, and you just couldn’t wait for peter to destroy you.
peter knows you didn’t actually want him to say anything nerdy, so he made it a bit sexual. as always.
“they know how to… kiss.”
“you’re probably the one nerd that knows how to kiss.”
“okay, fine. i know how to kiss,” his hand cups your face as it leans closer towards his. he places a soft, longing kiss on your swollen lips before pulling away way too fast for your liking. “i know how to touch you, i know how to rile you up. right? i’m doing it right now. and you’re probably soaking.”
a warmth wave floods through your body at his words.
“i know how to talk to you too. bet these dirty words are going straight to your little clit, huh?”
“peter,” you whimper. he was right. he was beyond right.
his hand trails down your bare stomach and hovers over your clothed cunt. he can feel the heavy heat radiating from you through your leggings, begging for more.
“i can feel you. i can smell you, too. a perk of being spider-man,” he smiles, “guess this nerd is pretty great.”
“peter!” you shook his shoulders in desperation, but he didn’t move. you had a love hate relationship with his teasing. he indeed got you riled up, to the max, until you were begging him to touch you. he just dragged it on and on and on. he loved hearing you beg for it.
“okay, okay, sweet girl,” peter chuckled as his fingers fumbled down the waistline of your leggings. they were thick, so you helped him get them down. “just want to hear you say how awesome nerds are first. how do you think i made these webs?”
“you’re the hottest, super-nerd i’ve ever met in my life. now can you please fuck me?” you begged as your cunt ached.
“aw thanks, baby,” all he did was laugh at your misery with a smirk. “all you had to do was say please.”
note: not my best work, but i hope you enjoyeddd. literally posting this at 1 am :D
taglist: @invisibletrolleyson-jeremy @lnmp89 @crybabyddl @pretty-npeach @marine-mayday @aerangi @justanotherpasserby-blog @tinafuentes @moniffazictress11 @eywaheardyou @alwaysclassyeagle @mrstealuregirl @bisexual-desi @sherlockstrangewolf @madsttx @graywrites20 @bradtomlovesya @princesspannnn @sageisswaggg @purplerose291 @girlbossnancy @lockwood-lover @marzipaanz
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cameronspecial · 10 months
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Masterlist
Welcome to my writing! Hope you find what you are looking for and if you don’t, then requests are open but I only really look at them for inspiration so no guarantees it gets written! Also just comment or send me a message if you want to be a part of any of my taglists.
Rafe Cameron
Drew Starkey
Zach MacLaren
Anthony Lockwood
George Karim
Evan Buckley
Tom Holland
Peter Parker
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totheblood · 2 years
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lovefool | tom holland
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summary: tom is your best friend's brother and you have nooooo idea how you got here.
↳ best friends brother au genre: implied smut, fluff, angst if you squint
word count: 1.7k+
song inspiration: lovefool by the cardigans
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You had no idea how you got here.
Actually, that was a lie. You had a really good idea of how you got here. In fact, a few months ago you planned to be right here, on your best friend's couch, your lips intertwined with his brother’s. You knew that if he had found you in this position, with his brother's knee planted firmly in between your thighs, that both you and Tom would be dead. You should stop, you thought to yourself. You knew this could hurt Harry but yet here you were still allowing his brother to practically deflower you with his kneecap. 
You should stop, your mind rang again as Tom’s hands moved from your ribcage to your waist. Whatever air he was breathing out was now your own, the space between you two practically nonexistent. He smelled of lemon and sandalwood and tasted like spearmint, but when he bit down on your lip all you tasted was the sour taste of your own blood. He wasn’t as gentle as you thought he would be but that didn’t stop you any less.
You should stop, your conscience reminded you as he started to make his way down your neck with only his mouth. He was panting and nipping at your skin as if he was starving and you were the only one around, every little noise you made making him smirk against your skin as if he knew what he was doing to you. He was pressing you into the cushions below and you were convinced that the minute you got up the shape of you and him would remain there for years to come.
You should sto-, your mind tried to tell you but was cut short by him sucking on the sensitive skin behind your ear.
Fuck it. 
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It had been a week since you hooked up with Tom and despite your best efforts you couldn’t help but feel guilty about it. Harry was your best friend, the person you told everything to, and every moment you spent around him was another moment you felt like you were lying to him. He wouldn’t mind, you tried convincing yourself, but even your own mind laughed at the thought. Your mind flashed to a time where he was punching the shit out of a guy ten times his size because he thought he grabbed you too hard.
It wasn’t like he was in love with you. He was in a happy and healthy relationship with your other friend Angi and he almost always referred to you as his little sister, even though you were older than him. He found you at a particularly rough time in your life and you understood that him meeting you under that circumstance forced him to play a protective role in your life.
On top of that his relationship with his brother wasn’t the best. They had an on-again off-again relationship, being each other's best friends one minute, and tearing each other to shreds the next. You couldn’t begin to understand it, but it wasn’t your place in the first place. So when he needed to vent, you were there. And when he needed to ditch you to hang out with Tom, you understood.
So here you sat in this shitty dive bar across from Angi, giggling with her about various stuff, the liquor now getting to both of your heads. It was nice being out with her getting tipsy off of two dollar margaritas and getting to catch up on the boring stuff that happened to you during the week when you weren’t able to talk. It was also serving as a distraction, your mind not wanting to discuss what you were keeping from Harry and what you did with hi- fuck, was that Tom?
“What is Tom doing here?” You slumped in the booth, taking a large swig from your straw and draining the cup. 
“Oh, I invited Harry and I guess they’re friends again because he asked if he could bring him along.” Angi replied matter of factly as you sat there with your eyes trained on him. You watched as he maneuvered his way through people, smiling and waving at the bartender before his eyes locked on you. Even though the expression on your face was now leaning toward fear as he moved closer, he had the cockiest smirk on his face as he approached you.
“Hey Angi,” He smiled as he slid into the seat next to you and you watched as Harry sat next to Angi and pressed a gentle kiss on her cheek. You smiled at the interaction but that smile quickly fell as Tom turned to face you in his seat. His face was just a few inches from yours and he allowed his knee to knock against yours.
“Y/n.” He stated simply, smiling at you like his brother wasn’t right there across the table from you. You didn’t even realize how tightly your hand was gripping the wooden seat of the booth until he brushed his fingers along your knuckles and you instantly relaxed.
You glanced over at Harry whose full attention was on his girlfriend which allowed you to take a breath of relief.
“Hi, Tom.” You whispered back, allowing a smile to grace your face. With that grin the tension in the room dissipated and you allowed yourself to relax. You were just talking to your best friend's brother, nothing weird about that.
“I missed you,” he whispered, looking down to where his hand was still lightly placed upon yours. He moved his hand down, allowing his pinky to interlock with yours. “Have you been getting my texts?”
Yes, you thought, but you didn’t want to let him know you were actively ignoring him because you felt shitty for allowing him to fuck you. 
“I’ve just been too busy to reply this week.” You lied through your teeth, hoping he wouldn’t notice your sharp intake of breath. But he just hummed in response, and got up to get a drink from the bar.
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The night when smoother than you thought it would, the lights getting more blurry with each drink you took. It was like everything everyone said was getting increasingly more funny as the night went on and your body grew warmer. You would occasionally laugh so hard that you had to lean your head on Tom’s shoulder. Well, you didn’t have to, but you really really wanted to. And Tom would welcome your warmth by leaning his head on top of yours, and from what you could tell, Harry didn’t mind.
But as time went on, you only got more drunk which meant you grew more tired and needed to get home to the warmth of your own bed. 
“I need to leave.” You managed to slur out randomly as you tried stepping over Tom in the booth, only managing to trip and nearly fall flat on your face if it wasn’t for Tom’s arm firmly pulling you back up.
“Woah, there. You’re not going to go home by yourself, are you?” He questioned glancing over at Harry and Angi, who were a lot more sober and staring at you with wide eyes.
“Mate, why don’t you take an Uber home with her?” he suggested, glancing in between you and his brother. “Me and Angi want to stay, plus I have to take her home later.”
Tom gave him a look that asked him ‘are you sure?’, but all he did was nod back in response, giving him a tight lipped smile. With that confirmation Tom moved out of his seat and pulled out his wallet to place a few twenties on the table. “Nice seeing you Angi.” He smiled as he turned to walk you out to where your Uber was already waiting.
As you both piled into the backseat he laughed as your head smashed into the window. He nudged you with his arm as he watched you carefully, waiting for your eyes to open in acknowledgment. You could only manage to open one eye to look at him, but when you did you were filled with warmth. He was looking at you like you held the world in your head and you tried to remember the last time someone looked at you like that. You don’t think anyone ever has.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” you slurred out, your voice slightly muffled since your face was smashed up on the glass.
“Like what?” he questioned cluelessly.
“Like I’m the only person in the world.” You stated, now mustering up the courage to sit up straight and stare right back at him.
“You are.” he said much quieter, his hand moving to hold yours for what felt like the millionth time tonight. “To me at least.”
You felt flustered, not only were you way past drunk, but here was the person you had been pining after for years telling you that you were the only person that existed to. You understood the implications of that. There was a pleasant isolation that came with liking someone. You woke up thinking about them, and when you closed your eyes they followed you into your dreams. They appeared in your favorite movies, your favorite songs, and even on the pages of your favorite book. You knew that feeling because for so long that is what you felt about him. He was the end all and be all of the human race and your heart grew ten sizes when he walked in a room. That’s what you felt like at least. 
“I liked being with you,” you started, not sure what you were trying to convey “not just sexually, but like, romantically.” You looked down where he was squeezing at your hand, a soft laugh coming from his lips that seemed to mix with the sound of the car engine.
“I like being with you too.” He whispered back, now scared he was sounding like a schoolgirl. “So why have you been ignoring me?” he asked firmly. As you opened your mouth to speak he began again. “The real reason.”
You gave him a half smile before pulling your hand from his. “Because of Harry.”
He looked puzzled for a minute before the realization hit him. “But Harry knows.”
taglist and mutuals: @sxfik @olsensnpm @userholland @gwenscindys @spideyspeaches @cocoamoonmalfoy @venomsilk @spvilers @petereading @honeyspidey @spideyobsessed @vendettaparker @erule @4ppurrr @vxid42 @wildholland @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah @lovebyceleste @mayal0pez @ariianelle @keanureevesisbae @ghiblijoons @peterparkoure @starstruckspring @willie-ivy @spideyy @seaveysinn @simplyparker
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late-to-the-party-81 · 9 months
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I feel the rush, addicted to your touch
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AN: sorry, not sorry - Have some brain rot filth courtesy of that scene from Crowded Room and Tom Holland’s slut era….As always an aged up Peter Parker…
Beta’d by no-one, bwahahahaha, but enabled by @buckyismybicycle
Dividers by @firefly-graphics and moodboard by me, with images from The Crowded Room courtesy of www.TomHolland.org
Master list
Summary: Peter’s on a mission. Whether he gets what he’s expecting is a different matter.
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Relationship: Peter Parker x Sam Wilson - No powers au
WC: 1.4k
CW: Disaster Gay Peter Parker, Strangers to lovers, drug use, unsafe sex, unhealthy coping mechanisms, implied previous SA, hooking up, anal sex, spit as lube, daddy kink, oral sex, face slapping (once) being shared, angst. This is messed up - you have been warned.
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I’m so fucked up right now!
As the thought crossed Peter’s mind he giggled to himself at the dual meaning. Because he was fucked up - his life so far had seen to that, but he was also high as kite, tripping his balls off after the two lines he’d done at home before heading out, so doubly fucked up.
He supposed he’d been a normal kid once. It was so long ago that he didn’t remember much. He got flashes now and then, memories of his mom singing to him, his dad reading him a story. But that part of his life hadn’t lasted long, courtesy of a drunk driver. He remembered being scared and confused when he went to live with Uncle Ben and Aunt May. Things had settled down, at least for a bit, and he’d had some semblance of happiness. 
However, the universe decided that it hadn’t tortured him enough, so it sent a mugger who accosted and killed Uncle Ben over the $47.32 cents in his wallet. That’s when things really went downhill. The reduced income, the cost of the funeral. To say he and May had struggled financially was an understatement.
Peter had had prospects before then. He was smart, capable, excelling at school, but he’d had to get a job to help out, and his school work suffered. He got angry at everything and everyone around him and made bad choices. Choices which lead him to trust people he shouldn’t have trusted. People who gave him things, did things…
Peter shook his head. Tonight wasn’t about being maudlin. Tonight was about having fun. He might be fucked up, but he was planning on just being fucked too. 
Black eye liner rimmed his dark hazel eyes, smokey eyeshadow spread across his eyelids. He’d tried to tame his milk chocolate curls by slicking it back - there was still a cowlick at the front - and it curled at the nape of his neck.
He sashayed into the club, hips swinging as he pushed through the crowd, so obvious in what he was after that the only way to be clearer would to have a light-up sign over his head like a cab. His black jeans were so tight they were almost painted on, moulding his pert ass and highlighting his slim waist. His matching black shirt was almost sheer and barely buttoned, giving a full on view of his toned abs and pebbled nipples. 
With the bass thumping and the red lights pulsing, Peter shucked his leather jacket, slinging it over his shoulder and making his way to the bar. He straddled a stool, and started to look around, peering out from under his long dark lashes, and chewing on his thumb. He wasn’t exactly sure what - who - he was looking for, but he knew he’d know it when he saw it, or rather, him.
A-ha!
Eye contact was made and not broken. Two knowing gazes locked together, assessing each other. The man walked over, dark skin shining like mahogany under the club lights, and leant over, lips close to Peter’s ear.
“You want a drink, sweet thing?”
A large hand rested on Peter’s thigh, squeezing gently.
“Whisky please, daddy…”
A shudder running through the body next to him let Peter know he’d played it right.
“You old enough for the hard stuff, sugar?”
Peter turned on his stool, even as the man signalled the bartender. He hooked his calf around the back of the man’s thigh, pulling him between his legs.
“I’m old enough for all the hard stuff.”
A raised eyebrow, and then the hand on his thigh was tightening.
“Good to know.”
Two whiskeys were ordered and quickly knocked back. Peter slid down from the stool, letting his body rub up against the one in front of him. Now he was on his feet he could fully appreciate the height and breadth of the man, and he could feel the lust rushing through his veins alongside the coke. With his hand fisted in the man’s shirt, Peter walked backwards onto the dance floor, wholly enraptured by the sparkling eyes and knowing smirk aimed in his direction.
Once he’d got into the middle of the throng, the press of bodies almost as intoxicating as the whiskey, Peter turned his body, pressing his back to the stranger’s front. Two large hands grasped at his hips, grinding them back, and Peter let his own arms raise up over his head, so his hands could rub over the cropped dark hair of his soon-to-be lover.
Peter felt dizzy, beautifully out of control, as he gyrated, letting the music flow through him. The hands left his hips to rub over his abs, sneaking under his shirt to feel his heated skin and to skim over the front of his pants. He arched up into the touch, sucking in air and rolling his body.
It was only a few minutes later when Peter found himself pressed face first against the wall of a stall in the men’s room. The music from the dancefloor, although muted slightly, was still loud. His pants were pulled down, and rough fingers, only lubed with spit, were rubbing at his tight hole. He gasped as one, then two, were harshly pushed inside him, a mere nod to prep, and then oh! 
His lover’s hands covered his, fingers linked, and Peter cried out unabashed as his body was thrust up against the thin wall. He was so full! The stranger flexed his hips, thrusting his cock in and out, hitting that spot that made Peter whimper and clench in pleasure.
It felt so fucking good! He could almost forget everything.
It was over too soon, their fervour, their feral lust, pushing both of them over the edge, and Peter gulped in air, head still resting against the side of the stall.
“Come home with me, sweet thing. I got some more sugar for you, Sugar.”
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Peter inhaled through his nose and threw down the rolled $20, before falling backwards onto his ass. What day was it? How long had it been since he left the club? Did he even care? He was high again - or was it still? - and he’d been fucked seven ways from Sunday. He giggled, rolling over and getting to his feet, to bop around to the music playing through the stereo. He only had on his underpants and a t-shirt given to him by his lover, but he didn’t care. For once the voices in his head were quiet and he felt so fucking happy. 
He put on a flirty little show for the man in the chair, but after spinning too fast, he fell back over onto the floor. Laughing again, he came up onto his knees and crawled over towards his lover.
The sun coming in through the thin curtains made the man’s skin glow golden as he slouched, relaxed in an easy chair, smoking a joint and puffing perfect rings into the air, watching Peter dance. As the young man got closer, he spread his legs.
Kneeling between them, Peter undid the belt that was stopping him from getting to his prize. That damn knowing smirk had returned, and Peter smiled back before ducking his head and taking the thick, cut cock into his mouth. Fingers tangled into his curls, holding him in place as he swirled his tongue and hollowed his cheeks.
Somewhere, on the periphery of his consciousness, Peter heard a knock on the apartment door, and noticed it opening from the corner of his eye, but he was too caught up in own blissed out state to pay it much attention. That was until an enquiring voice broke through the fog swirling in his brain.
“What you got there, Sam?”
A grunt, and a flex of hips made Peter gag for a moment, but it didn’t deter him.
“Got me a sweet little thing.” A sharp tug  on his hair made Peter lift his head up, and he looked around, mouth agape and eyes wide. A tall, dark haired man was leaning against the shelving unit. His arms were crossed and he was observing Peter with his crystal blue eyes.
A light slap across his face brought his attention back to his lover.
“You listening, Sugar? This is my main man, Bucky. He’s a good friend and I share all my shit with him, sometimes while I’m still using it, so just relax, honey. We’re gonna send you sky high…”
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Tag list: @doasyoudesireandlive @chemtrails-club @talia-rumlow @peaches1958 @pono-pura-vida @writing-for-marvel @kmc1989 @mrsmischief209 @sebstanwhore @preciousbarnes @jobean12-blog
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blissfulparker · 2 years
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[ PROPOSITION ]  one or both muse(s) are having trouble sleeping so they have sex to pass the time.
for tom? or whoever if you feel comfy doing smut/suggestiveness!
Stay the night prompts
In the early days of July, the London air was never fun. Summer nights consisted of open windows and lighter sheets but that was not enough for Tom tonight.
From tossing and turning, Tom grew envious of the way you curled up and slept peacefully. He had tried blankets to no blankets, he had tried water to tea to even listening to one of those meditation podcasts you always say put you to sleep. Nothing worked. He stared at the ceiling as if it was all he had left, occasionally glancing over to you to see if you had woken. It was selfish of him to wish you were awake but he missed you and needed a way to put himself to sleep.
“Tom?” Your voice cracked as you rubbed your eyes, slowly waking to the sight of your boyfriend shirtless sitting up in bed. “What’s wrong? A nightmare?” Your hand rests on his chest trying to feel his heartbeat.
“No darling,” he sighs looking down at you as if you are the prettiest thing on earth since to him, you are. “Go back to sleep.” He hums and you move so you sit up next to him.
“What is it then?” Now curious, he knows you won’t leave him be or go back to sleep until you have an answer and solution.
“Can’t sleep ‘tis all.” He lets his hands intertwine with yours as your head falls against his chest.
“Oh.” Was all you said, he waits before he says anything knowing you always have a list of solutions for everything even though he’s already gone through all the ways he could sleep. “Have you tried tea?” You wondered.
“Yup.” He nods and you let your fingers draw traces over his bare stomach.
“Reading?”
“Yup.”
“Stretching.”
“Yup.”
“Okay, how about a podcast?” Thinking you’ve got him he lets his head fall back against the headboard.
“Yes, I even tried one that talked about the history of the Hoover dam thinking I could bore myself to sleep but it was actually quite interesting.” He tells you which gives you a slight laugh.
“Didn’t even know there was a thing.” You hum thinking some more. The clock read 4:45, you had no idea how long he had been awake thrashing himself around trying to sleep but all you knew was that he had worked for six months straight and needed this sleep.
“Hmm,” you let your fingers fall down to his sweat-shorts. “Have you tried this?” You let your fingers slip in between the band and gently feel the tip of him.
“N-No.” he hummed as you let your fingers wrap around him gently.
“Do you want to try this?” You look up seeing his eyes gently flutter shut and his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows hard.
With a nod, you allow yourself to move faster. Your hand wraps fully around him as you move up and down, placing soft kisses along his chest and up his neck. Too tired yourself to go down on, he understands as his hands grip the sheets and he arches his hips upward.
“D-Don’t stop.” He whines as he tries to match a pace with yours but the two of you grow more tired as he comes close.
With a few more lazy pumps and his hips barely keeping pace anymore, you feel his release in your hands and slowly pull away from him.
As he catches his breath and finally finds his energy cooling down, you manage to slip away and wash up before joining him back in bed.
“Do you need me to…” he offers letting his hands wander down your sides and you shake your head.
“You can return the favor in the morning.” You tell him and he huffs wishing you two could go all night—or at least all morning—but he needed sleep and you had work so there was no late nights between you two.
With his arm wrapping around your waist, he brings his face to the back of your neck inhaling the soft scent of your shampoo before finding himself drifting to sleep. In the morning, he knows he will make enough time to return the favor but for now you will only see each other in one another’s dreams.
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tomhollandfics · 1 year
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I posted 335 times in 2022
141 posts created (42%)
194 posts reblogged (58%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@alltoowelltom
@tomsholland2412
@hollandsangel
@mcuparkergirlfics
@spideyzgirl
I tagged 240 of my posts in 2022
Only 28% of my posts had no tags
#tom holland x reader - 221 posts
#tom holland - 209 posts
#tom holland fanfiction - 181 posts
#tom holland fluff - 163 posts
#tom holland x you - 153 posts
#tom holland fic - 145 posts
#tom holland x y/n - 138 posts
#tom holland imagine - 133 posts
#tom holland smut - 132 posts
#tom holland fanfic - 116 posts
Longest Tag: 35 characters
#tom holland x gender neutral reader
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
Prince!Tom
See the full post
560 notes - Posted February 11, 2022
#4
Period Fics
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704 notes - Posted January 2, 2022
#3
Dom!Peter
See the full post
1,573 notes - Posted January 31, 2022
#2
Stark!Reader
See the full post
2,021 notes - Posted January 3, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
Sex Pollen Fics (Peter Parker)
See the full post
2,853 notes - Posted October 29, 2022
It’s been an incredible year! Thank you all!
Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →
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cosmetologynerd · 2 years
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Hi so I fully dropped off the face of the earth for a good long while there but I actually want to write again and have motivation to and I was thinking of redoing one of my previous series- would you guys rather read something new or something retold with much greater detail and context and a fully fleshed out plot?
Tagging some of my mutuals & favs to start spreading the word that I’m back (two years is a long enough hiatus don’t we think?)
@hollandroos @holland-ish @grussell63 @peterparkerdeservesbetter @peteprker @rileywrites-parker @thekillingquill @afterglowparker
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spider-stark · 5 days
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INFINITELY YOU
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part three // spitfire
SUMMARY - In every universe, Peter Parker seems destined to fall in love with you. And, in every universe, he realizes it too late. When universes collide and two of them are granted a second chance at rectifying their biggest mistake, neither of them are willing to let the opportunity go to waste–even if you end up not being the person they thought you were.
WARNINGS - 18+, minors DNI
WORD COUNT - 4.5k
// masterlist // series masterlist // send me your thoughts // no way home fan fiction // rewrite
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name key: tom!peter = peter // andrew!peter = parker // tobey!peter = pete
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On the walk back from Peter Pan’s, it seemed as though Parker had managed to entirely escape the sputtering awkwardness that had ensnared him the night before. 
And, after countless city blocks of listening to him babble about absolutely everything and anything, you realized that there was one very striking similarity between him and Peter. 
Both boys had a fervent interest in all things nerd. 
“New Hope takes place nearly two decades after the rise of the Galactic Empire, meaning that Leia is only nineteen when she's kidnapped and forced aboard the Death Star! Which is like, absolutely insane, right? Seriously! Imagine being nineteen years old and stuck inside of something that has the potential to obliterate an entire planet!” 
Shoving open the lobby door to your complex, Parker hardly even waits for you to hum your agreement before continuing his retelling of the Star Wars film. 
“And at the exact same time, Luke is finally beginning his Jedi training! Which, honestly, nineteen is actually super old for that, but-” 
Moving towards the stairs, Parker close on your heels, you cut him off with a question. “Too old? Nineteen is hardly even an adult,” you argue. “What age do most Jedi start training?” 
“About four or five, so obviously Luke was way behind,” 
Not even a full three stairs up, you come to a grinding halt, leaving Parker to bump into your back. “Four?!” You cry out, wide-eyed as you spin around to face him. “That’s insane!” 
Parker only lifts his shoulders, clearly not understanding the reason for your horror. 
Furthering your point, you add, “There’s nothing ethical about taking a bunch of little kids and training them to be weird, intergalactic warriors!” 
“It’s the best way to train them!” He lifts his hand defensively, explaining, “The earlier they start training, the less likely it is that the kids will have formed an attachment to their families! That way they learn to act out of logic instead of emotion!” 
For a heartbeat, you’re rendered entirely speechless by the absurdity of his claim, left to stand with your mouth agape as you blink at him. 
“That sounds like emotional abuse,” you finally huff, shaking your head. “Actually, scratch that—it doesn’t sound like emotional abuse, it just is!” 
“It’s not abuse-” 
You hold a hand up, stopping him before he can say anything else. “Give me one good reason why a group of adults should withhold love and affection from children if they aren’t abusing them.” 
“Uh, how about the fact that love is basically what made Anakin turn to the dark side!” Parker scoffs, clearly unwilling to recognize how insane the notion he was pushing actually is. 
“Or maybe Anakin turned to the dark side because he was indoctrinated and traumatized by some stupid space cult!” 
The expression on his face is downright laughable. 
It was as if you had just reached out and slapped him across the face. His jaw went slack, his mouth hung open in blatant offense. As a sputtering noise falls from his lips, trying and failing to come up with a good rebuttal, you smirk. 
“Exactly,” you boast, taking his inability to speak as a sign of victory. 
Twirling on your heel, you continue up the stairs, nearly all the way to the top before you finally hear him come stomping up behind you. 
“The Jedi Order is not a cult!” He finally shouts after you. 
Already traipsing through the hallway, fiddling with your keys, you sing-song, “Whatever you say, bug-boy.” 
Reluctant to admit defeat, Parker continues grumbling under his breath as you unlock the door, spouting something off about your lack of respect for George Lucas. 
“Look,” you tell him, pushing the door open, “if liking Star Wars matters this much to you, then I’ll gladly watch them with you.” A wry smile plays on your lips as you turn to look at him, standing in the doorway, “Maybe watching them will be enough to change my opinion on turning kids into galactic slaves.” 
Eyes narrowing in a playful glare, he’s only able to hold the expression for less than a few seconds before a laugh causes him to break character. “I just can’t believe that Peter hasn’t made you watch them already,” he admits. “I had you watch them so much that you could probably recite the scripts from memory alone!” 
His amusement dies off as soon as he finishes the sentence. Despite having been the one to bring it up, the mention of his world seems to cast a sullen shadow over him, ruining his sweet, boyish smile. 
Curiosity instantly claws at you, begging you to ask him why his world seemed to have such a negative effect on him. Or, rather, why his version of you seemed to have such an effect. 
This had happened last night too, when you had asked him if the two of you were friends in his world—and it was because of this that you assume that you’re somehow the common denominator in his discomfort. 
Still, you don’t let yourself ask him about it. For as much as you’re starting to like Parker, you don’t know him nearly well enough to try prying into his life. 
Not yet, at least. 
“Well, you’re more than welcome to force me into sitting through them in this world, too.” You tell him sweetly, sweeping an arm out to gesture inside of your apartment, inviting him. “It’s not like I’ve got any plans for the rest of the day.” 
You couldn’t even remember the last time you did have plans. Life had been so quiet since that last night with Peter and Mj—the night when everything went so horribly wrong. 
Parker sucks in a breath through his teeth, a hand coming to rest against the back of his neck. “I should probably get back out on the streets,” he reluctantly says, sounding more like he was convincing himself of that than you. “But, I don’t know, maybe we can take a rain check on it, yeah?” 
Disappointment washes over you, sudden enough that you’re sure it shines through on your face. It takes a shocking amount of willpower to stop yourself from trying to persuade him to stay, wanting to remind him that two other Spider-Men were already running themselves ragged in pursuit of the villains—so why did he have to go, too? 
You had grown used to his constant talking, having found solace in the chatter that kept you from slipping too far into your own thoughts. Selfishly, you wanted him to stay so that you wouldn’t have to be alone; so that you wouldn’t have to risk thinking too long about Doctor Strange or the multiverse or constants or Peter. 
The thought of admitting any of that out loud, however, felt incredibly humiliating. 
“For sure,” you force a smile, trying to ignore the many thoughts swirling in your mind. Then, eyeing the slightly too-tight Ramones shirt that he’d stolen from you, you add, “But shouldn’t you at least come in and change?” 
His nose wrinkles slightly as he shakes his head. “Nah—I think this city has more than enough spider-people swinging around it right now. I figure we might actually benefit from one of us patrolling on the ground-level, y’know? Maybe I can ask around for any giant lizards or blown light bulbs.” 
It’s hard to tell if the last bit is meant to be a joke or not, but you laugh anyway if only to avoid knowing why you should be worried about lizards and light bulbs. 
“Sounds like a plan,” you second his idea. “Well, I guess I’ll see you later then?” 
A surprising sense of joy lights his eyes at the sound of your hesitance, unfitting of the simplicity of the moment, but charming nonetheless. He grins—a wide and endearing sort of grin—as he takes a step back, “I won’t be gone long,” he promises before reminding you, “lock the door behind you, alright? And if you need anything-” 
He pauses, patting the pockets of his jeans only to remember that he didn’t bring a phone with him to this universe—and that, even if he did, there likely wasn’t a wireless plan good enough to support multiversal travel. 
“If you need anything, call 911.” 
“Got it,” you laugh, watching as he stumbles backwards towards the stairwell, cheeks red with faint embarrassment. 
Turning to go inside, you can’t ignore the warmth that now blooms in your chest. 
You could definitely get used to having him around. 
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A peculiar sensation prickles at your skin, curling along your spine like icy fingertips. 
Something was wrong. Very wrong. 
The usually comfortable atmosphere of your apartment had shifted. An eerie tension fills the space, a near-suffocating feeling that has the very walls holding their breath, humming a tune of warning as you inch further into the living room. 
Your stomach twists as the sharp tang of exhaust fumes fills your nostrils. By the couch, a faint breeze rustles the curtains of a window, wafting in the nauseating scent of the city street below—a window that hadn’t been open when you left earlier. 
A mere foot or so away, you notice that the picture frame Parker had been fiddling with before is now lying on its face, having been knocked off the end table and abandoned. Atop the table, you notice that the lamp is sitting askew, its base just inches from tumbling over the edge and joining the frame. 
Someone had come in through your window—and it didn’t appear as though stealth had been very important to them, given that they had clearly stumbled into the table upon their entrance. 
Adrenaline floods your senses, your spine stiffening as you take a series of slow, quiet steps. 
Moving towards the corner, you carefully reach out a hand to grab the metal bat propped against the wall. The bat had been an unlikely housewarming present from when you first moved in, given to you by Peter’s mentor and your own reluctant renegade, Tony Stark. For nearly two years now it had sat in this corner, unused and gathering dust—until now. 
You wrap your fingers tightly around the base, wincing slightly as the rubber grip pulls at the still-healing flesh on your palm, making you curse yourself for not properly bandaging the wound last night. 
But you’re used to pain—and so you’re easily able to bite back against it as you ease through the living room, checking for any sign of the intruder's presence. 
As you walk, gripping the bat like your life depends on it, you can’t help but hear Tony Stark’s voice echo in your mind. 
If you’re gonna live alone, then you should have some sort of protection—he had told you, gently placing the cool steel into your hands for the first time, a ribbon tied sloppily around it—not that you need it. 
Satisfied with your search of the living room, you start easing towards the hall. You’re good at sneaking around, having had a lot of practice at it—every movement you make is calculated, every footfall so purposefully gentle that it’s nearly silent. 
Quiet as you were, you could do nothing to ease the sound of your blood thrumming wildly in your own ears, your heart pounding against your chest. 
The incessant beating worries you—because you know that there are people in the world with the unnatural ability to hear such things. Peter, even with his enhanced hearing, had to be close to someone in order to hear something as soft as their heartbeat; but you had heard rumors that there were others who could hear a pulse from miles away, others like the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. 
The thought makes your blood run cold, though you try to push the worries from your mind. From what you know, the Devil doesn’t have a habit of breaking into apartments, nor was Queen's his usual jurisdiction. 
No—what you were dealing with had to be no more than an average burglar! 
An average burglar who, somehow, scaled up the side of a building to break into your apartment… 
Alright—you think, approaching the end of the hall—perhaps it’s a not-so-average burglar, then! Still better than the Devil. 
Peeling one hand from the bat’s handle, you curl your fingers around the doorknob to the guest room, Parker’s room. You ease the door open slowly, trying to keep the old hinges from crying out as you peer into the space. 
The sweet scent of vanilla is the first thing that hits you, contrasted by the subtle bite of vetiver. 
Parker—the room smells of him, even though he had only been here for one night. 
On the bed, the quilt is rumpled and thrown about, pillows strewn about. The doors of the armoire are wide open, a few old shirts hanging over the edge of one of the shelves, no doubt from when he went digging through your clothes in search of something to wear. 
The room was messy, but empty. 
Your shoulders sag, half-a-breath loosing from your lungs. The relief is short-lived, however; as by the time you edge back into the hall to turn towards your own door, you’re overwhelmed with dread. 
If whoever broke in was still here, then this was the only place they could be—save for the bathroom, though you seriously doubt any burglar would have much interest in scouring through your toiletries… 
Easily, gracefully, you twist the knob, the metal yielding quietly to your careful touch. 
The curtains are tightly drawn, eradicating any trace of sunlight and leaving the room cloaked in shadows. But, even in the darkness, you’re able to see the rough outline of a figure sprawled out across your mattress. 
For a split second, you think of Parker’s advice to call 911, the weight of your phone suddenly heavy in your back pocket. 
You think of how you should follow that advice. 
You think about how fast you could run—if you would be able to reach the front door before they could catch up to you. 
But then you stop thinking, disregarding all logic and reason as you take a step into the room, as if drawn in by some invisible force. 
Remaining mindful of your surroundings, you slowly approach the edge of the bed. Squinting in the darkness, you try to study the body laid out atop your comforter. Watching the steady rise-and-fall of their chest, it suddenly hits you that, whoever they are, they’re asleep. 
Slinking around the corner and coming to stand at your bedside, you’re finally close enough that you can see them in spite of the absence of light. Crimson and blue spandex clings tightly to their arms as they cling one of your pillows to their chest, and you feel your entire body sag with relief as you loosen your grip on the bat. 
So this must be Peter 2. 
The fabric of his mask is bunched up and resting along the bridge of his nose, which is somewhat smushed against the pillow he’s holding, no doubt leaving him to breathe in the scent of laundry detergent and your perfume. 
Lower, you can make out the subtle contours of his jawline and the curve of soft, pink lips. Higher, you’re met with the impassive stare of then white lenses sewn into his mask. 
The lenses shield his eyes from your view, and a curious feeling begins to tug at the furthest corners of your mind. Take it off—it seems to whisper, compelling you to move in closer, your shins pressing against the side of the mattress—take it off. 
You grit your teeth and try to ignore the feeling, try to ignore the velvet-voice slithering through your mind; begging you to look at him, to touch him, to notice him, to-
Pain shoots along the side of your temple, likely in response to the sudden tightness in your jaw. It distracts you enough that you’re able to shake the strange feeling long enough to regain your focus—even if the remnants of it still linger. 
You shouldn’t be interested in him—you should be pissed at him. 
Not only had he broken into your house, which was already bad enough, but he had also climbed into your bed and made himself cozy! The absolute gall, the audacity he must have, has you allowing the tiniest sliver of rage to ignite inside of you. 
Both hands still gripping the bat, you lower it from where it rests against your shoulder to swiftly jab its head into his stomach. 
A cough sputters past his lips as the impact pushes the air from his lungs. 
You’re actually shocked that you landed the blow—in truth, you had expected his spider-sense to kick in and detect the incoming hit, waking him with just enough time to dodge the shot. But, apparently, his instincts had made the mistake of assuming that you were of no threat to him. 
“Morning sunshine,” you chime, your feigned cheerfulness set off by a sneer. 
He’s scrambling into an upright position, knees sinking into the mattress as he presses a hand against the sore spot you’d created on his stomach. “What the fu-” 
His voice is hoarse—from sleep or pain, you’re not sure—and he doesn’t finish the curse spewing from his mouth once his head shoots up towards you, as if finally registering the sound of your voice. 
“I don’t know what things are like in your world,” you muse, swinging your bat back to rest against your shoulder, “but in this one, breaking and entering is considered a crime.” 
He’s still catching his breath, and while those damn white lenses covering his eyes give so little emotion away, you assume that he’s going to apologize. It’s what Peter would do, and Parker, too. 
But not him. 
“Your friends said I could stay here,” he defends himself. Taking another deep breath and extinguishing the burning in his lungs, the lower-half of his face transforms into a defiant smirk. “It’s not breaking and entering if you were invited.” 
“And did they tell you to sleep in my bed, too?” You shoot back, brows rising in annoyance. “Word of advice: next time you’re invited to stay in a total stranger’s house, maybe try not to repay their kindness by crawling through their window.” 
He mocks you without missing a beat, “Word of advice: you live in a shitty neighborhood—if you don’t want people coming through your windows, you should try locking them.” 
“Ah, right! Cause the average person is definitely willing to scale the side of a building for the prospect of an unlocked window!” 
“You’re a pretty girl in a dangerous city,” he drones, lifting a shoulder as he meets your sarcasm with purposeful calm. “You’d be surprised what people would be willing to do for a chance at getting you alone.” 
The insinuation sends a shiver down your spine, but you mask your unease, flashing a smile that’s more predatory than sweet. “Aw,” you coo, “so you think I’m pretty?” 
He returns the expression, skillfully avoiding your derisive question. “I think you’re irresponsible—and a little cocky.” 
“Better to be cocky than a felon,” you remark. “Just spare my neighbors the acrobatics show next time, would you? Maybe try knocking on the door like a normal person! Preferably when you’re not dressed like… that.” 
It’s not that his suit wasn’t nice, because it was. But it lacks the advanced Stark-tech that makes Peter’s suit so uniquely sleek, meaning that it was likely safe to assume that no one in this world would mistake this boy for the real Spider-Man. 
Unless they were to catch him scaling up the side of your building… 
“I tried knocking.” he sounds exasperated, as if you are testing his patience. “You weren’t home.” 
You snort a laugh, wondering if he truly believes that is all the reason he needs to break into someone's home. 
“Then you should’ve waited until I got home,” 
“I hadn’t slept in over twenty-four hours. I was too tired to wait.” 
“Then you should’ve slept in the alleyway with the rest of the strays,” you hiss at him, fingers tightening around the bat as your frustration builds. 
The sheer ferocity in your voice gives him pause, stunning him into silence. 
Then the corner of his mouth begins to twitch upwards, lazily grinning at you as if he actually enjoys the verbal onslaught. 
You can tell that he’s watching you through those white lenses, and his tongue darts over his bottom lip, you feel your breath catch in your throat. “Fine,” amusement dances in his tone as he raises his gloved hands, “fair enough.” 
For a moment, no sound comes from your parted lips, leaving you to stand there gaping at him until you remember how to speak. “Fair enough?” You echo, shaking your head slightly. “That’s all you’ve got? No apology?” 
He moves, forcing you to take a step back as he shoves his legs over the side of the bed and rises to his feet. He’s not as tall as Parker, but he still stands an inch or so higher than you, making it hard to not feel intimidated as he stares down at you, your own face staring back from the reflection of his lenses. 
“Better not push your luck, Spitfire,” 
He’s baiting you—he has to be! Using a stupid nickname to get under your skin, to try and prod further at your short temper. And it’s working—god, you hate how much it’s working!—because you find yourself contemplating putting his superhuman durability to the test by whacking him over the head with your bat. 
“By the way,” he says before you have a chance to act on your intrusive thoughts, pointing at your hands, “you’re bleeding.” 
As if his words switch a flip in your head, you’re suddenly aware of the acute throbbing in your palm. You loosen your grip on the bat, letting it clatter recklessly to the floor as you hold your hand out to examine it. 
Unsurprisingly, the rubber handle managed to tear open the barely-healed cut on your palm, courtesy of your too-tight grip on it. You hiss through your teeth, watching as blood oozed from the cut, dripping down towards your wrist. 
Slipping past you, the boy only half-manages to stifle his laugh. “You should probably take care of that.” 
He’s already slipping out into the hall by the time you regain enough awareness to follow after him, gritting your teeth against the pain. 
“And where do you think you’re going?” 
“To the other room,” he calls over his shoulder. Once he’s standing in front of Parker’s door, he spins back around to face you, his snarky expression still in-tact. “Where I’m hoping you won’t follow me.” 
Everything about him causes your blood to boil—his grating voice, his insolent attitude, his stupid soft lips. 
“Would it kill you to be nice to me?” You exclaim, your voice strained with pain as you try to wrap your hand in the lower half of your shirt. 
It takes no-time for blood to start seeping through the thin material, and you certainly don’t look intimidating like this—the lower half of your abdomen on display as you try to apply whatever pressure you can to the wound—but you don’t care. 
“I don’t have to let you and Parker stay in my house—I’m doing it because I’m nice, alright? And, so far, you’ve been nothing but a dick!” 
The thin fabric of his mask shifts, brows furrowing at the mention of Parker. Unlike Peter, however, he doesn’t bother commenting on the nickname. “Nice isn’t exactly the word I’d use to describe you. Especially since you’re the one calling me names.” 
The levity in his tone makes you want to scream—what was his deal?! 
You press harder against your bleeding palm, your breathing turning shallow. You’re not sure if it’s frustration or pain or what, but you feel like your head is spinning. “Look, I don’t know you, alright? But this? Isn’t gonna work,” you bark at him, chin lifted defiantly as you stare into his mask, unrelenting. “If you plan on staying in my house, then you’ll get your shit together—got it?” 
His head tilts, curiously watching as you continue your frantic speech. 
“No crawling in through my windows or sleeping in my bed or smarting shit off! And take off that stupid mask!” You huff, shaking your head. “Or, I don’t know, pull it down the rest of the way! Just do something because you look stupid like that!” 
The words are spewing from your mouth like a torrential downpour, fueled by the rage swirling in your stomach and the throbbing in your hand and—
He laughs, a genuine laugh that isn’t born of derision, and you feel your racing thoughts slow to a halt. “You should work on your insults,” reaching for the nape of his neck, he tugs his mask off. “Because that was pathetic.” 
It’s no longer just your thoughts that have slowed, but the entire world. Everything around you feels like it has come skidding to a stop—leaving you staring up at him like a dumbfounded idiot. 
He’s beautiful—a commonality among Peter’s variants, it seems. 
He’s smirking, an infuriatingly charming smirk that lets you know he has no intention of listening to your demands for him to silence his quick wit. But you’re not focusing on that—no, you’re focusing on the features that had been hidden from you this whole time; his dark hair, tousled from removing his mask, falls in a chaotic halo around his face, contrasting the vibrance of his eyes. 
His eyes. 
They leave you breathless, and you hate it. Colored with the deepest cerulean you’ve ever seen, his eyes feel like staring into the depths of a crystalline ocean. You can almost feel yourself getting swept up in their tides, feel them enveloping you in a feeling of familiarity, as if this wasn’t the first time you had been pulled into their ebbing waters. 
“Have we–” your mouth has gone dry, your voice cracking. “Have we met before?” 
It’s a ridiculous question, and you recognize that even as it’s spilling from your lips. You couldn’t have met him before—not when the two of you weren’t even from the same universe! 
He seems to be thinking the same thing, and you’re already preparing to take the full force of whatever smartass comment he’s about to fling at you. “I’ve met you,” he says simply, taking you by surprise. Then he inclines his head towards your still-bleeding hand, “You should patch yourself up before you stain the carpet.” 
You look down at your hand, at the hem of your shirt, soaked in blood. 
“But just so I know,” you look back up, his body half-turned towards the door, his fingers resting against the knob, “if Peter and Parker are already taken, then who does that make me?” 
You have to force yourself to take a breath. “What did I call you in your world?” He’s silent for a moment, staring at the floor and chewing on his lip. Then, pushing the door to Parker’s room—their room—open, he smiles.
“Pete.”
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a/n - ayyy, pete's finally here! and, ofc, lots of other little important details sprinkled around as well.
also, i really wanna say thank you to everyone who has been reading and enjoying this story so far! it truly means the world to me to read all of the nice comments and to know that you guys are interested in this story! so, again, thank you 💖 as always, please comment/like/reblog and let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist!
part four, titled "blooms of subterfuge", to be released april 29th
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spidey-webz · 17 days
Text
peter parker masterlist
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some of these are andrew!peter, but i primarily write for tom holland's peter parker! if no other peter is indicated, it's tom holland's portrayal
main masterlist
✦ – contains smut
✧. ┊ DRABBLES
Lost and Found (Andrew!Peter)
Peter lost you. When he finds you again, he can't believe his eyes...
New Neighbour
Your neighbour keeps you up all night – just not in the way you expected.
A bunch of coincidences (Andrew!Peter)
What are the odds to end up in a different New York where your brother acts strangely and you find a different, quite attractive, version of yourself? (Spider-Woman reader)
Reminder of her (Andrew!Peter)
You are Peter's best fried, yet he isn't the one to save you from the fall...
✧. ┊ ONE SHOTS
Red
You and Peter decide to end your relationship since your lives grew to be too different. But it's too hard to forget him. Part of the Red Anthology
✧. ┊ HEADCANONS
Peter being a dad (Andrew!Peter)
Spider-Woman!Reader learning about her powers from the other Spider-Men (platonic)
Nerding with Peter (Andrew!Peter)
Going to prom with boyfriend!Peter
Sleepover with boyfriend!Peter
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sadslay · 2 years
Text
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- INVISIBLE ⋆☆ 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐨𝐜 ⋆☆ PART ONE
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↳ agent profile
↳ enhanced agents
↳ veiled soldier
full name: y/n l/n
date of birth: may 2000
abilities: invisibility
enhanced physical combat
enhanced intelligence
kills: 97
notes: no trace of biological parents
reassigned to the care of natasha romanoff in
2014
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"y/n?" a muffled voice call.
sliding my headphones down to the base of my neck, i slammed my locker shut before turning around to inspect where the voice was coming from. as i turned around there were several students walking up and down the hall but one face caught my attention. a few meters away stood peter parker with his back to a locker as he stared at me in disbelief.
"peter?" i smiled as i began to walk in his direction.
"what uh- what are you doing here?" he asked as his friends head popped put from behind his locker door.
"i uh- i'm studying here until nat gets back."
"wha- whe, sorry." he breathed as he was still trying to process my changed appearance. "who are you staying with?"
"one of tonys apartments a few blocks away." i smiled weakly. “got the whole place to myself.” i muttered sarcastically.
“mr. stark?” peter whispered.
"tony?" peters friend asked. "as in tony stark?"
"you must be ned." i smiled. "i'm y-"
"y/n, yeah i know." he cut me off as he began to smile. "you're the veiled solider right?" he asked quietly.
"yeah." i smiled weakly.
“cool.” he grinned. “do you know peter from the internship?”
“internship?” i frowned, looking at peter who’s eyes had widened as he looked at me before turning to ned.
“yeah, uh we were in the same devision.” he spoke in a shaky voice. “hey, uhm could i talk to you for a minute?”
peter bite down on his lip nervously as he waited for a response from me. i shrugged before nodding my head causing peter to hold onto my hand as he pulled me down the hall until he found a quieter corridor.
“what internship is ned asking about?” i smiled trying not to laugh at peters flustered state.
“he doesn’t know, no one does.” he whispered loudly.
“about you being-“
“yes!” he snapped is a hushed whisper cutting me off.
“wow.” i huffed. “i’m surprised you can keep a secret, especially one like this.” i smirked.
“please don’t tell him.” he pleaded as he began to fidget with the bottom of his shirt.
“relax parker, i’m not going to tell anyone.” i smiled a little more warmly, trying not to scare him off.
“thank you.” he breathed, finally relaxing a little. “a-and i’m sorry about ned, bringing up the whole-“
“it’s fine.“ i cut him off. “hey, uhm did you wanna come over tomorrow?” i asked.
peters mouth gaped open causing me to panic a little. as he tried to speak, nothing came out but sounds of him half stuttering a word.
“y-you uh, you could bring ned and maybe we could watch a movie.” i suggested, not wanting to be rejected.
i was not only desperate to befriend peter but to not spend another weekend alone. after natasha went into hiding, tony took me under his wing. he had brought me an apartment near the school and he would visit me every week or so to check in. peters eyes widened at my question. it took him a second or two to stutter out a response.
“ye-yeah sure.” he stuttered.
i looked down at the bag slung over my shoulder and hanging up the bottom of my waist. i searched through the bag and eventually found a pen.
with peter watching every move, i took peters hand and began to write my address and number on his palm. the tip of the pen tickled peters palm and he tried his hardest not to squirm.
“i’ll see you tomorrow.” i smiled, gently letting go of his hand.
before peter could say anything, i used both of my hands to slide my headphone back onto my head, the music softly playing as i began to walk towards my next class.
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after getting a few quiet knocks at my door, i got up from my bed and jogged over to the door. brushing my hair out of my face i swung the door open to find peter standing a few feet away from the door.
he was wearing a t-shirt with a math joke printed on the front with a blue unzipped jumper and a khaki green jacket over the top. a soft smile crept onto his lips as he waited for something to happen.
“no ned?” i asked.
“n-no uh, he uh had some stuff come up.” peter managed to stutter. “i-is that okay?”
“yeah, totally.” i smirked as i stepped back to allow peter to walk through.
“so, uh what movies were you thinking?” peter asked as he wandered into the main living space of my apartment.
“well, i’ve got a bunch of the old star wars movies we could watch or-“
“star wars is good.” he smiled, turning back around to see me in the kitchen. “i d-didn’t know you liked star wars.”
“theres a lot of things you don’t know about me parker.” i smiled as i began to walk over to my couch as i carried two glasses of water. “should we start with episode one?”
“yeah.” peter nodded as he followed me to the couch.
as i sat down on one side of the couch, peter sat in the middle, only a few inches away from me. after a minute or two, the movie began to play causing them both to relax a little.
“f.r.i.d.a.y, lights down.” i spoke clearly.
slowly the apartment lights began to dim, the only light coming from the near by bedroom window. as the theme song began to play, i got a little more comfortable, slouching into the couch. peter sat mostly up right with his hands by his side.
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peters body tensed when my hand brushed up against his.
“are you okay?” i asked as i had noticed peters breathing becoming heavy.
“ye-yeah.” he managed to stutter as his eyes darted all over the room. “th-this is j-just my favourite part.”
i turned to look at the screen to see padme amidala being attacked by a stout brute, half of her shirt being ripped off in the process.
“really?” i questioned as i turned to look back at peter.
“uh yes.” he frowned quickly looking at the screen. “o-one of my favourites.” he corrected.
“sure.” i laughed quietly. “your favourite also when jabba the hutt has leia as his little pet?” i smirked, watching peter grow even more flustered.
“wh- ah no, no.”
“i’m just teasing parker.” i began to giggle.
“ri-right.” he smiled weakly, finally looking at blair who was closely watching peter. “sorry.”
“stop apologising.” she smiled.
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while i was watching the movie i could feel peters eyes watching me.
“you’re missing the movie.” i smirked.
as i turned to look at peter, he quickly snapped his head back to the screen.
“ri-right sorry.” he mumbled, trying to stay focused on the screen.
after a second or two i noticed herself watching peter as his eyes desperately tried to stay focused on the screen. slowly peter began to turn head back to me. i could hear peters breath become unsteady. my lips lingered inches away from peters. my eyes kept wandering between peters eyes and lips, too nervous to do anything, peter stayed completely still.
i moved her hand to peters cheek before gently kissing him. when peter didn’t pull away, i couldn’t help but smile. as our lips began to move in perfect harmony the kiss grew more passionate.
i felt truly euphoric. peters hands moved from the couch to the sides of my hips. i pulled herself closer to peter as my fingers began to run through peters hair, sending him into a spiral.
“wh-wait.” peter mumbled as he pulled away from my lips. “i-is this okay?”
i happily agreed, biting down on my bottom lip. after a second or two, i pulled peter back into my embrace allowing our lips to reconnect. i could tell peter was growing desperate for my touch as his kisses became hungrier. i could feel him weakly tugging at my waist, peters fingers gently digging into my skin.
slowly, with the help of peter, i slide over onto his waist. while i re-positioned myself over peters lap, i felt his tongue glid against my bottom lip. as i tugged on the back of peters hair a weak moan came from peters lips. almost instantly, peter pulled away more then embarrassed.
"i-i'm sorry. i don't know where that ca-"
"it's okay." i smiled, causing peter to take in a shallow breath.
both of our heavy breathes filled the room for just a moment before our breaths began to slow. after a moment i had noticed how peters eyes were fixated on my lips. his hands hadn’t moved from my hips causing a weak smile to appear on my lips. in fact peter hadn’t moved an inch since he pulled away.
“did you want me to stop?” i asked, with a small smirk.
peters breath hitched for just a moment before he slowly began to shake his head. i leant in, taking a slower approach and not wanting to rush peter. as our lips reconnected peters urges grew as his kiss grew more heated with every passing moment. small, soft moans managed to escape my lips as my body squirmed in peters lap.
within minutes, i felt something harden beneath me, causing me to smile into the kiss. before peter could do or say anything there was a loud firm knock at my apartment door.
“oh come on!” i muttered as i stood up, beginning to march towards the front door.
“open up l/n!” a voice shouted from the other side.
i quickly turned around and ran back towards peter, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards my bathroom.
“lock yourself inside.” i whispered, pushing peter into the bathroom.
“what- who is that?” peter asked in a hushed voice as he tried to cover himself.
“peter, lock the door.” i snapped before pulling the bathroom door closed.
“l/n!” the voice yelled, banging on the door again.
quickly erasing any trace of peter, i walked up to my door before looking through the glass hole to find nick fury standing on the other side of the door.
“fury?” i frowned as i swung the door open. “i thought you were-”
“we need you to find yelena and the other widows.” nick cut her off.
“wha-what no. how do you know about yelena?” i frowned. “wait, i’m not helping you!” i spat.
“i’m not working with ross.” nick spoke quietly.
“i don’t care, now please leave before i have to call tony.” i sighed.
“okay.” he mumbled. “i’ll see you around soldier.”
nick gave me one last nod before leaving my apartment, closing the door behind him. as i let out a deep sigh before remembering peter was locked in my bathroom.
“shit.” i mumbled, running over to my bathroom before tapping on the door. “peter?” i called.
i got no response causing me to knock on the door again. no response. grabbing into the silver door knob, i pushed the door open slowly not wanting to startle peter.
“peter?” i called again, pushing the door back against the wall to find the bathroom completely empty. “shit.” i mumbled, quickly walking back to the living room to grab her phone off the coffee table.
p. parker
sounded important
p.parker
see you monday?
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master list
part two
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beautifulbuckys · 2 years
Text
Midnight Phone Call (Peter Parker x GN!Reader)
Summary: You’re harboring feelings for close friend and classmate Peter Parker. But a few night time texts could possibly ruin the friendship.
Warnings: Some swearing, anxieties about unreciprocated feelings
A/N: Hi! This was a small blurb I wrote inspired by Can I Call You Tonight? by Dayglow! I watched NWH today and was in my Peter feels, so enjoy!
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High school would be a drag if it wasn’t for Peter. 
If Peter Parker weren’t sitting next to me in history, I’d forget to write my name on all my papers. He’s the one that saves me from hour-long chemistry homework. Peter Parker gives me charred brownies May made the night before because he thinks I needed them. He’d walk me to my classes even if he didn’t share the class with me.
But high school caused me to like Peter. High school causes me to have this overwhelming, full-blown crush on Peter. High school keeps Peter Parker around me almost all day 5 days a week. High school forces me to suffer because of my feelings. 
It was exhausting. 
For a while, I shoved the crush down. I wouldn’t let any of my happy, flirty thoughts reach my brain no matter how much I tried. I resisted reading into situations. Lately? If I don’t think of Peter at least once a minute I’d be worried my brain shut down. There have been so many different situations in the past week that have been too close for comfort. By that, I mean, too coincidental for the said situation to happen between friends. 
Last week for instance. 
During lunch period, the cafe was loud and rowdy. This was nothing new for Midtown. Except for the craziness this week was caused by the new cupcakes the lunch ladies were serving. Almost everyone in the school had purchased one. Who could blame them? The chocolate goodness frosted with rich cream cheese ice cream was too good to turn up. Both Peter and I got one. We’d heard good things from the previous lunch block!
Peter finished his cupcake almost instantly. He’d basically swallowed the whole cupcake in one bite. I, however, was a slower eater. I’d barely finished my regular lunch by the bell. Midtown has a strict rule, however, that you can’t eat outside of class. Although I paid 50 cents for the cupcake, I’d be damned if I was going to waste it. I shoved the rich, chocolatey goodness in my mouth and chewed it on my way to class with Peter. 
However, once we got to calculus, Peter glanced over at me. A boyish grin spread across his face.
“Hey,” He nudged me with his elbow. The soft cotton of his long sleeve rubbed my bicep causing me to jump a little. 
I looked at him, the bell ringing. “What?”
His smile never left his face. “You got a lil’ something,” Peter pointed to the right side of my face. His pointing was vague so I placed my hand on my cheek. “No. Not there. Here, I’ve got it.” Peter his hand to the corner of my lip and wiped off a smudge of bright pink frosting I had sitting on my face with his thumb. He then brought his thumb to his mouth and sucked the small bit of frosting off of it. Once he was satisfied, he removed the appendage from his mouth with a small pop. 
“Oh…thanks,” The heat I felt on my face was unbearable. I couldn’t look at Peter for the rest of the class. Riddle me flustered. 
Now, I lay staring at my calcium-stained ceiling at 12:30 in the morning with nothing other than my thoughts. That was too much to bear. It was a Friday night. Everyone with a social life from Midtown was out partying at Flash’s house. I was sure of it. It was almost a weekly routine at this point. Nobody talks to each other in class but once schools out…major parties happen and then the cops are called. 
Not Peter though. 
He’s always awake at this time. Not partying, that’s not really his scene. His reason was unexplained. Whenever I asked, he’d say he was studying for a quiz or test coming up. I knew he was lying though. We share most classes, so when there was a quiz I’d know. At this point, I’ve chalked it up to being something personal for him. I’m not going to force it out of him. Especially if he’s this adamant about not telling me. 
12:37l Hey…you up?
A typing bubble on Peter’s behalf popped up immediately. He was a fast responder. If I ever needed anything, big or small, I could text him and count on him replying fast. 
PI 12:37I Yeah. What’s up?
Well. Shit. I didn’t really think this through. I had no plan. I needed a plan for something like this. It’s sad that I do. Before I realized I had these feelings for Peter, I could talk to him about anything at any time. But now? I can’t get two sentences in without stuttering. He’ll reply to things I say and I’ll always, without fail, find a way to read into his response. Finding a hidden meaning. It’s a blessing and a curse.
12:39I Can I call you?
I throw my phone down and rapidly stand up once I press send. This shouldn’t be so stressful. Should it? I’ve never had a serious crush before. Let alone on a close friend. What if this ruins the entire friendship? What if May doesn’t like me? Well, she’s already met me. She seems to like me. Unless she secretly despises me. Does she secretly despise me? Is she using her kindness as a ruse? I’m pacing around my room, hands on my hips. My pajama shorts were falling down due to all the movement, despite them being tied. Was it kind of annoying? Yeah. But the butterflies in my stomach were trumping that slight annoyance. 
Focus. 
The calm facade of sirens and car honks in New York City was disturbed by the happy chirping of my phone. I froze in place from my pacing. I felt like a deer in headlights. Do I let it ring through? No. I shouldn’t. I’m the one that asked Peter to call. You did this to yourself. Follow through. 
It took me a moment to find my phone. Due to me launching up from my bed, it was tangled in the jungle that was my comforter. I was only able to find it due to my phone screen turning on with each ring. 
Don’t be a pussy.
I swipe the green ‘answer’ button on my cracked screen. “Hello?”
“Hi!” Peter’s voice boomed through the speakers. He was far too cheery and energetic for it being 12:40 in the morning. Or maybe I’m being far too critical and gloomy. Yet, I can’t be mad at his happy tone. Hearing his voice, even if we were just on a phone call, made me feel far less alone  “Did you see the moon tonight? Look out your window. It’s gorgeous tonight.”
I obliged to Peter’s request. He was right. The large, white figure truly illuminated New York City’s skyline. The glow of the moon reflected off of the small stream by my house. It was a picture-perfect moment.
“Yeah, it is.”
Peter cleared his throat. “So, what’s got you up late? Something has gotta be on your mind if you asked to call.” Peter whispered. Besides his initial greeting, Peter kept quiet on our rare phone calls. May doesn’t like him up too late. She isn’t super strict about it. However, her room was right next to his and their walls were nearly paper thin. She valued her sleep and didn’t want it interrupted by Peter’s lousy conversation skills. 
I took a deep breath. “Honestly, I just wanted to hear your voice.”
“Well, you’ve got me on the phone. I can read you a story if you’re struggling to sleep? I know you never finished the Harry Potter series. I could read you the books that you left off on?” Peter offered. Lord, if only Peter Parker knew how fluttery that offer made you feel. “Or maybe I can read you one of those freaky Edgar Allen Poe poems MJ loaned me. I’ve been too scared to get through them alone. You’re the person I need to push myself to read them.” “I love you.” I blurted. 
And then hung up. Smart thinking! Go me!
Peter instantly tried to call me back. My phone screen turned on once more, showing the picture of Peter and I at NY Comic Con from last fall. His dorky smile paired with his lame Luke Skywalker cosplay was enough to have me immortalize the picture as my lock screen. I huffed. Was that a good idea? Probably not. Definitely not. Yet, I did it. With no thought about the consequences. Christ, school on Monday was going to be awkward. I waited around a minute, allowing the call to ring through. I didn’t touch my phone for another 5. I was mortified. Frozen in place, still standing where I was when I accepted Peter’s first call. I was staring at the wall, waiting for something crazy to happen. Maybe this was a dream? I’d wake up in 5…4…3…2..,1…I look down at my arms and see them still holding my phone. Shit. This is reality.
Maybe Doctor Strange can magic me out of this?
My phone buzzes once more. It’s not a phone call this time, though. It’s a text. Nobody else is awake, besides the Midtown partiers who I don’t talk to. I’m not making enough noise for it to be either one of my parents texting me to quiet down. That meant it must be Peter. Amazing! Being let down over text would be a nice memory to tell my 50 cats when I’m 90 and rotting away.
PI12:49I Don’t go and leave me so easy :(
My phone buzzed again.
PI12:50I You didn’t even let me reply dickhead.
I have to deal with the consequences. I open the texts, seeing the previous messages from the day we’ve shared. After a deep breath, I pressed the call button on the top right of the screen. The call rang once before Peter answered. 
“I love you too, idiot.” 
I smiled. “I’m glad I called you tonight.”
I heard a slight chuckle on the other end. “Me too,”
294 notes · View notes
shawnxstyles · 8 months
Text
free session
DATE: AUGUST 8, 2023
summary: tom hurts himself a little at the gym, but luckily, you’re there to reassure him that everything’s fine. when he finally comes back, you decide to show him what a free session is all about.
request: yup!!
words: 7k
warnings: SMUT (slight praise kink, protected sex, dirty talking), language. this was a quick one
note: okay so i don’t do threesomes lmao, but i didn’t state that until after i got this request (this request is 8 months old i’m sorry). i chose to do tom, but i changed a lot, so i’m sorry if this isn’t even what you asked for at all… i hope someone likes it | NOT EDITED
gym!tom x trainer!reader
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Tom had a steady routine; he went to the gym in the morning, ate, did his day plans or work, ate again, and then went to the gym at night again. Some people thought he was insane for going to the gym so much, but it felt like his second home. Mainly because the gym was his brother’s, Harry.
Harry and Tom were unbelievably close; out of all their siblings, they were definitely the tightest. Tom assisted Harry with renting, paperwork, and anything he needed for his little business, which wasn’t so little anymore. Once he got popular in town, Tom let his brother handle himself after all his constant nagging. Then Tom was off doing his own thing, worrying about his own life and job. It got consistent, tedious, and boring to say the least.
But on a random summer day when Harry called Tom to deliver the bad news, Tom regrets ever thinking that his simple routine was boring.
“Tom, I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to find a new gym.”
“What? Harry, what are you talking about?” Tom drops his gym bag on the floor of his apartment, stopping short with Harry’s words. He presses the phone up to his ear, teeth nibbling on his bottom lip.
“I didn’t tell you before, but all my “loyal” customers have fled to the new fitness center down the street. You know, the one by the café?”
“Yeah…”
“It’s only temporary. I need to refurbish and find some more sponsors, and then hopefully, I can reopen.”
Tom sighs slowly into the empty air of his home, looking up at the ceiling in distress.
“I was trying to figure out how to tell you—”
“It’s alright, Harry. I’m glad you told me now. I’ll just… find a new gym.”
“If you go to my competitor, I won’t blame you.”
Tom replies with a hefty laugh.
“It’ll only be temporary.”
So, that’s what Tom has been doing—going to his brother's competitor. However, it was only supposed to be for a few weeks. But it ended up being a few months. Tom’s adjusted to the new gym quite nicely. He likes the wide variety of machinery and how many options he has. When he first came in, he was using machines he’d never even seen before.
Even though his gym was switched up on him, Tom is a routine kind of guy. It only took him a week to adapt to his new environment and get comfortable with everything. He developed a new schedule for his morning workouts since he can no longer go to the gym in the evening. He wasn’t necessarily a morning person, but for the gym-induced high, he would do it.
He had a specific day for arms, legs, chest, back, shoulders—everything. Over the years, he’s done his research on the body, and even took anatomy in high school.
Did that even help him?
To say he’s gym-obsessed isn’t too much of an overstatement, even if Tom disagrees. He would say he’s obsessed with his dog, but not the gym. He refuses to put himself in the category of “gym-bros” and dumbasses that live off protein shakes. Yeah, he likes those shakes too, but he wouldn’t die if he had more than one cheat day in a week. Tom likes to live his life outside of the gym, unlike those people.
Tom worked an average job with a good salary, and relatively lived an average life with good people. He didn’t go out much because he didn’t have many people to hang out with besides his brothers. Harrison has been his best mate since high school, but with both of their work schedules colliding, it’s hard to find the time. Plus, he’s been way too busy planning his wedding.
Yeah, a wedding.
Tom’s not surprised by the fact that Harrison’s getting married. In fact, he’s not surprised at all. Of course he’s happy for his best friend. He’s just… envious in a subtle way. Both Tom and him are 28 years old, and while Harrison met the love of his life and is starting a future with her, Tom is yet to even date a girl for longer than a few weeks.
He’s been on dates here and there, even had a few one-night stands in the past year, but after some time, he just gave up completely. Sometimes, a girl will smile at him or look him up and down, but he doesn’t even try to pursue them like he used to. For the few times that he is out with his friends or brothers and a girl is all over him, he’ll take the opportunity and bring her home.
But it never goes farther than that. And Tom is afraid he’ll never have more than that.
Shaking off the terrible thoughts to start his morning, Tom walks through the glass doors of the gym. He passes the front desk and towards the clean machines that are practically calling his name. The barely rising sun can be seen through the huge window panes along the entire building, making the scene look peaceful.
There were a couple of bodies in the area, but besides the delicate music seeping through the speakers, it was quiet. To Tom, this was tranquil.
After a few simple stretches, Tom snatches the jump ropes. He jumps until his muscles are loose and warm and they’re just itching to be challenged. Today, he decided to do legs with an additional ab workout just because. He was a little extra energized, and he craved for his body to be sore. He doesn’t do this often, but he needs to change it up once in a while, right?
Tom goes straight towards the leg press, knowing that that machine will fire his legs up immediately. When he starts his reps, he already feels the burn. He knows today is going to push his limits, but he’s ready.
About halfway through his workout, he wants to give up. But he knows that’s exactly when you need to keep going.
He’s struggling with his squats, really trying to lift these three plates that are taunting him. He can do two easily, which means he has to add weight if he wants to actually gain and keep his muscles. He takes a deep breath before trying to squat for the second time. He slides the padded bar over his ready shoulders. The weight is dawning and plummeting his own body to the ground.
As he lowers his legs, squatting with the best of his abilities, his lower back aches immensely before he drops the bar onto the matted floor. The plates clang against each other in the relatively quiet gym
“Fuck,” he groans and chucks off his headphones, clutching his lower back near his tailbone. This is now the second time he’s failed, but the first time he’s felt this pain. It wasn’t a shooting, sharp pain, but it was aching enough to warn him that he was positioning himself wrongly.
“Are you okay?” A woman’s voice asks concerningly a few feet behind him. Tom turns around too quickly, making his back hurt a little more. He tries to hide his hiss behind clenched teeth when he sees you.
Your eyes were wide with worry and your head was slightly tilted. You were sporting a tight sports bra with matching shapely leggings. You had a towel dangling in your hand and a black shirt in the other. Maybe it was because of his small pain, but Tom couldn’t help dragging his eyes down your body in awe. He hisses at the sight unconsciously.
“I’m assuming that’s a no,” You squint your eyes with a slight tease as you walk up to him. Tom nods while also fixating in the present. He had a tendency to drift off into his head if his imagination wandered enough.
“Yeah, I think I hurt my bad a bit,” he smiles while trying to stretch by twisting left and right.
“Maybe I can help? If you’d like me to,” You offer as Tom stares at you. Your eyelashes are fluttering almost innocently, and Tom is beyond intrigued. He nods with a charming smile, one that you just had to reflect back. It was easily one of the most gorgeous smiles Tom has ever seen.
“Just so you know, I kind of work here. Well—I mean—I do work here. I’m just new,” You rambled. You were a bit nervous. You were a certified trainer, but you’ve never trained someone outside of your schooling. Yes, you’ve done family and friends, but not a stranger. A random stranger who actually needs your experience. You’re not sure how you landed a job at this seemingly high-end gym, but you never question the good things that happen anymore; you just let them happen.
“Good to know. Since you offered, I assume you know what you’re doing,” Tom teases and you roll your eyes playfully. He eased some of your nerves.
When you ask how he was squatting, he explains what he was doing and when and where the pain was occurring. You nodded along to his words, collecting all of it and connecting it to your knowledge. You come to a conclusion long before he’s done and gaze at his body. You know a lot about anatomy and you’ve seen a bunch of bodies throughout your life.
But staring at his ripped and sweaty body has you feeling all warm and tingly. The morning sunlight seems to shine perfectly over his perspiration, twinkling as a few drops slide between his rigid muscles.
“I think you strained your back,” You say simply without blinking right as he finished talking. You shake your head as if you weren’t just ogling his muscles. What is wrong with you? You were supposed to be a professional.
“Oh,” Tom finally says with a slight frown to his face.
“Does it hurt when you turn as well or just when squatting?”
“Mainly just squatting,” he answers.
“Okay,” You give him a once-over as if analyzing him. You were analyzing him, just not in a very professional way. There was nothing professional about how your eyes turned hungry as they gazed at his blessed figure. “The best thing to do is to not sit. Or stop what you’re doing basically. I would say no more squats for a while or anything that strikes pain. But don’t terminate all your exercise. That will actually make it worse.”
Tom nods along to all that you’re saying with understanding. Everything that you’re telling him makes perfect sense, so there was a good minute where he zoned out and just stared at you. Your matching set makes your skin look smooth and defines every curve of your body. The way your hands moved as you spoke had him mesmerized like he was under hypnosis.
“Got it?” You ask as a heat floods up your neck. Tom blinks rapidly and mumbles a yes, but he looks all too distracted. He didn’t hide well that he was staring at you, but he didn’t seem like he was trying to either.
“Is there anything else?” Tom questions as the air between you two gets tense, voice lower than before. Panting and echoing machines are all that are heard in the space around you. You swallow your sudden nervousness that was about to cough up a whine. You wondered if he wanted you to say something else.
Maybe he wanted you to confess. Confess something that you were both thinking, but you both didn’t know.
“N-No,” You slightly stutter out when you answer, smiling to try to cover this feeling that’s bubbling up inside of you.
“Well, I guess I’ll just do the treadmill before I head out.”
“Right. Sounds good. Have fun!” You ramble as he walks away, chuckling with each step he takes. You turn away and your smile instantly falls as you groan to yourself, “Have fun? Why did I say that?”
You run your hand over your face as you try to regain your lost pride. When you walk back into the coach’s area, you slip on your uniform shirt, so people are aware you actually work there. You take a deep breath and mentally slap yourself in the head for being so unprofessional. You barely just started working here and you’re already breaking rules! You’re not allowed to have relationships with your clients. Wait, that’s a rule, right? Now, that doesn’t make much sense…
But you know for certain that thinking about someone sexually after just meeting them, rule or not, client or not, it’s inappropriate. You’ve never looked at someone and just completely melted at the sight of them. You can’t stop picturing the way his leg muscles flexed as he carried the heavy weight of the squat bar. Or the way his cheeks reddened and hollowed out air as he pushed himself to stand up straight.
Although you watch and help people work out for a living, you’ve never found it entertaining. But for some reason, your mind is just so utterly fucked over by this random guy that you’ve never seen before. He looks like he’s been doing it a long time, especially with that figure. Has he been at this gym for a long time? He seems like he has.
Your mind likes to wander and wander as you do busy work and wait for the day to end. From your area, you weren’t able to see the front doors, so you never saw the stranger again that day. You assume he left soon after your departure, but you wish that you saw him just once more. Maybe you’d get the confidence to catch his name and even offer a session. Free of charge, you imagine yourself saying accidentally because you’d be so distracted.
Throughout your shift you helped a few people and even assisted in the group exercise class. Though, you loved when you had one on one trainings the most because you got to see your client grow their strengths and their weaknesses.
As your shift came to an end, you collected your bag with a heavy sigh. It was only the afternoon, but of course you didn’t have any plans. You had spent a year working to become a certified trainer, but brought no one with you along the way. You took a gap year when high school ended to try to figure out what you wanted to do, and then you discovered training and you felt comfortable. You had some friends, but none were strong enough to stay with you. It was really just you, with the occasional hangout with your older sister who lectured you sometimes.
You felt lonely sometimes, but it’s not like you really tried to fix it either. You went out every blue moon, waiting for some magical miracle to occur. Nothing sprouts; no love, sex, relationship, or friendship spawned at your feet when you’re out late at night in a bar or club. So, you kind of just stopped going. Was it sad to say you kind of lost hope in dating and sex?
Besides the point, when you entered your apartment, you were alone. Just like most days when you weren’t busy researching ways to start a business.
Oh, was that mentioned?
You wanted to start your own business with your certification. However, it was hard because you had little to no experience in business. Your dad knew good tips and tricks, but he wasn’t experienced enough either. And since you were quite lonely, you hadn’t made many connections to people that might have loads of talent in the field.
One day, you would actually talk to someone, you swore. And they would help make your dreams of a business come to life. It’s not that you didn’t believe in yourself to make it happen; it was more than a reasonable goal. It’s just that you’re so unmotivated right now because of your lack of connections.
Ugh, why does life have to be so difficult?
Tom wakes up early with groggy eyes and a sore back. He had done some research online last night on how to sleep with a strained back. He was told to lay on his side with a pillow stuffed between his knees. But of course when he woke up in the morning, his body was flailed across his mattress like an eagle, pillows completely disregarded from him.
When he tried to sit up too quickly, a sharp pain erupted in his back, making him sit right back in the bed. Maybe he should just take his time like the woman at the gym said…
You were slightly disappointed you didn’t see the good-looking stranger again on your shift. You shamelessly glanced around the machinery, hoping to recognize his bulky shoulders and defined muscles, but they were nowhere to be found.
You got to see a few good bodies, but there was something about that stranger that just made your insides tingle.
Again, so unprofessional. This is why you can’t start a damn business!
Tom didn’t go to the gym for a week. A week!
His back was just in too much pain and lifting heavy weights sounded tortuous. He still went to work and went on evening walks with his dog, but he felt pretty lazy. He forced himself to take a week off of the gym to heal, and thankfully it worked. His mind kept lingering to the pretty woman who talked to him, but he kept excusing it with his pain. He must only be thinking of you because you gave advice he needs to remember, right?
By the next week, Tom was already back in the gym. He walked through those glass doors again, quickly checked in, and headed towards the machinery. He moved slowly as his eyes subconsciously tried to find you again. Tom had this… need to tell you that he’s okay and that your advice worked. Again, it was just an excuse, so he could talk to you again. Maybe he would see your name tag this time, or just ask for it blatantly.
He makes a quick once-over of the area, and is a bit disappointed when he doesn’t see you lingering. He goes straight towards the jump rope to refresh his muscles that have been resting for one of the longest times since high school.
Tom jumps and jumps and jumps… and then nearly falls over when he sees you turn around after doing a squat. The curve of your ass in those leggings made his mouth water and your charming smile made him crazy.
Before he knows it, you’re approaching him while he’s completely phased.
“Hey, I see that you made it back. How is your… back?” You ask, squeezing the towel in your hand with an intense grip. Your heart started fluttering a little from just the sight of him, and you wondered why you were getting so worked up over a stranger.
“It’s all good now! I think,” Tom chuckles while rubbing his neck. He nervously twists the rope between his fingers, trying to think of a way to keep the conversation going. “I, uh, never caught your name.”
Your heart skips a beat and a smile threatens to take over your face. It was such a little thing, but you’ve been wondering what his name was for the past week. A name to a face to fit your fantasies.
“Y/N,” You smile, but your eyes struggle to meet his face. He was just so gorgeous you felt like you might be blinded if you looked too long. “And you?”
“Tom,” he surely answered with a nod.
“That fits you very well.”
“What do you mean?” he questions and your eyes go a little wide. You hadn’t meant to say that. It sounds creepy and weird; to say that his name fits him… as if you were thinking about him.
“Well—like—I was wondering what your name was when I first talked to you and now that you said it, it makes sense. Not that I was thinking about you all week or something… that’s just creepy!” You awkwardly laugh after your ramble, thinking of the fastest way to leave this conversation so you can regroup. This is why your dating life is so shallow. You can’t hold a conversation for a second without rambling out nonsense or making a fool of yourself. It’s typical, really.
You thought he was going to laugh at you like a bully and walk away from your weirdness. But instead, he softly chuckles at your antics while staring at your face. Noticing that he’s still standing in front of you, you slowly drag your eyes up his body until you finally meet his eyes.
They’re that perfectly golden brown color that looks like oozing honey when reflected off the sun. Since you were only a foot away, you could see his nose was a little crooked and he had an uneven eyebrow. His hair seemed a bit unruly, but all you wanted to do was run your hands through it.
“I’ve been wondering what your name was, too,” he finally admits when the air around you feels like it’s closing in. Your heart was beating as if something was going to happen, but you knew nothing would. Nothing was going to happen in front of all of these people.
“Really?”
“Mhm,” Tom hums as he watches your pupils dilate and eyes struggle to look at him. He’s been thinking about you all week, he can admit that, but now you can’t even look at him? He wanted to see your pretty eyes. “I’ve been wondering about a few other things as well.”
“Oh? Like what?” Your voice was slightly breathless and you felt the need to check over your shoulder every second. You felt like you were breaking some rule and you were able to be fired on the spot. It felt so wrong, but you wanted to see where this goes. You were all too intrigued by this glorious man before you.
“Like why you can’t look at me.”
“What? I’m looking at you!”
“Not longer than a blink.”
“S-So? Do you want to have a staring contest or something?” You bite your tongue when you stutter.
“Maybe. I just want to see your pretty eyes,” Tom didn’t plan on calling your eyes pretty right off the bat, but his bluntness is what made you finally look up at him. He saw innocence as well as desire laced within your irises. And he wondered if you really had been thinking about him all week. If you had, that would confirm that you want more. It would confirm that Tom isn’t crazy, and that there is some type of spark in between you too.
Will a one-time thing, like sex, dull the craving spark, or ignite it?
“We can’t here,” You say barely above a whisper.
“Do what? A staring contest?” Tom begins to smirk causing you to groan. He’s got to be one of the cockiest people you’ve ever met, but he has every right to be. Usually, you hate men that know they’re attractive because their cockiness just makes them an asshole. But Tom is the funny type, who pretends to be cocky, but he’s actually really humble.
How did you get all of that from only two conversations with him? And they were barely conversations!
“You know what I mean.”
“I don’t, actually. Care to tell?”
“You want…” You can see the way he tries to hide his growing smirk and it tells you all you needed to know. The air thickened between you both, heavy with tension and heat. Your heart was racing and your stomach burned in a way that pushed your courage over the edge. You’ve needed something like this for a long time, you just never knew how long you actually needed it. “You want me to give you a session!”
Tom clicked his tongue at your teasing, slightly chuckling. You blinked your eyes as you flashed your fraud innocence at him.
“What does the session include?” His voice was low and deep. There was a certain rumble in his tone that made your legs feel like jelly and your mind go blank.
“I-I can show you. Let’s go in the back,” You try to remain as playful as possible, but you were absolutely losing it. You just wanted him to take control and kiss you as hard as possible; to do the unimaginable. Of course, the horniest you’ve ever been in your whole life is at work of all places. There’s no way there isn’t a rule about having sex in the gym. You’re sure people have done it before, but never employees. That had to have been prohibited.
But your desire is taking control of all your actions right now as you lead Tom through the gym and into your miniature office. Since you were relatively new, your office was in the back of the gym in a little room. The other offices for the more experienced trainers were near the front and were wide open to the public. You didn’t like how your space was so far away from everything because it made you feel disconnected, but right now, you’ve never been more grateful.
As you guide him into your office, you shut the door and push in the lock. You had a small wooden desk with a single picture frame and a laptop. A few different papers lie across, but you’re quick to stack them and slot them in the first drawer. When you stand back up, Tom is closer to you than ever, hovering right over you.
Your heart rate increases exponentially as his hungry eyes pierce your soul. Your impulses want to rip his shirt dramatically off of his torso, so you can run your hands all along his sweaty, ripped stomach. You’d make sure to kiss every centimeter of skin before landing on your knees for him. You’re almost positive you’d do anything he’d ask. Before you can even blink, he’s leaning in, cutting the distance and inching closer to your weekly fantasy.
“So what do I get?” His voice was breathy as his eyes flicked from your eyes to your lips. You couldn’t help but do the same.
“Anything. Anything you want,” You respond way too quickly, your desperation spilling out from you. Out of instinct, you took a step back from him, making your back bump into the wall. He was crowding your space as much as he could without actually touching you. And it was utterly killing you.
“What a generous trainer,” he placed his hand delicately on the wall next to your head. “Do you do this with all of your clients?”
“Only the fittest,” Your lustfulness made you brutally honest as if you had chugged truth serum. “But no, I’ve never… brought anyone back here before.”
“The first and the fittest. I might just have to book a session.”
“Luckily, a spot just opened. You can have it,” Your eyes meet him again. The second he sees your eyelashes flutter up, there’s nothing stopping him from kissing you. Not the tension, not the voices in his head, not the fear of someone knocking on the door asking for you.
Tom’s lips crash against yours in an eager kiss, lips melting together from the heat you’ve built up. It’s sweet and it’s salty, but it’s fulfilling that nagging ache you’ve wanted cured all week long. Your hands immediately find their way to his luscious curls, lacing your fingers through them just like you imagined. His rough-textured hand cups your jaw, angling you directing into his mouth when he slots a bit of his tongue inside.
His body presses forward against yours, rock-hard, stiff, and hot. The feeling of his heaviness and warmth was even better than you had conjured up in your crazy, little head. His rhythm was easy to rock with, and your body gravitated towards his. You whimpered into his mouth when his growing bulge poked the bottom of your tummy. Tom took that as a sign and popped off of your mouth. He trailed his wondrous mouth down your pulsing neck, causing you to stab your teeth into your lip to keep quiet.
Tom kissed and nibbled your skin without a care of who might see the marks. He didn’t know what would happen after all of this, but he wanted you to have at least one memory when it was all over. When reached your collarbone, he forced himself off of you.
“What do you want?” he grumbled.
“W-What? I don’t know! Anything, just do something, please.”
“You’re the trainer. You’re supposed to tell me what to do, no?” Tom’s teasing sends a tingle down your stomach that hits you straight in between your legs. “Do y’want me to fuck–”
“God, yes. Do anything, please,” You groaned, trying not to sound too desperate, but it was difficult when that’s all you were.
“Alright, alright, don’t worry.”
Tom pushed himself off of your body to remove his shirt. His glorious body was perfectly defined by his packed muscles wrapped in his tan skin. His skin looked so smooth, like a silky blanket. Your impulses got the best of you and before you could even think, they were roaming his god-like figure with curiosity.
“How are you so fit? Who is your trainer and how can I learn from them?” You question both jokingly and seriously. When he laughs, you can feel it vibrate through your fingertips and it makes you feel all fuzzy.
“I train myself, but I know some great cardio exercises I’d be willin’ to show you,” he winks as his hand lands on your hip. It was your turn to laugh now, your voice breaking the tight tension.
“Please,” You begged, tugging both of his hands toward you. It was your way of saying that he could do whatever he wanted now. “Go ahead.”
So he did. You removed your tennis shoes and then he yanked down your leggings. You were so needy at this point you didn’t even bother to discard your snug bra. If anything, you’re going to need its security with all the movement you’re about to do (hopefully).
His hands grabbed the hem of your leggings until they were completely off of your legs. You’re left in your soaking thong while he’s still in his loose gym shorts. Tom doesn’t waste another second because he’s growing just as impatient as you. He can feel himself twitching in his briefs, craving for a satisfaction that only you can seem to sedate.
Without a warning, Tom cups your mound with delicacy, fingers pressing against your aching hole. The gasp you let out is unwavering as your cunt clenches around nothing but your own desperation. He scrunches his palm, rubbing your underwear as you soaked through the fabric.
“Can feel that you’re soaking, darling,” Tom husks beside your ear, sending shocks of heat down your spine. You’ve never been so turned on in your life from someone, especially because of a deep, sensual accent like his. “Did I do this?”
“Yes, yes. All for you,” You nearly whined, but you withheld it with a strain. “Please just fuck me already.”
“What’s the rush, love? Got somewhere to be?” he taunted. You didn’t have anywhere to be and he seemed to know that. He was lucky you didn’t have any clients today or have any appointments. It was like the perfect coincidence that this occurred on this day. You’re grateful for the fate of the universe as he slips his hand into your panties to lace his fingers within your wetness.
“So fucking wet, love,” he grumbled so low you could barley hear it.
“I need it, please,” This is the most submissive you’ve ever been. You can’t recall a time where you have ever been this wet or needy for another man. There’s just something incredibly alluring about the man about you, rock-hard body and all.
“What do you need? Do you need me to put my finger in your tight, little hole? I bet it would just slide right in.”
“Fuck, Tom,” You growled in sexual frustration. His mouth spilled utter filth, but you were loving it. You felt the very tip of his finger nudging inside of you, causing your walls to clutch tightly. “I need you to fuck me. Please. No teasing.”
With an ever-growing smirk, Tom slips his hand out of your underwear and glides the material down your jelly-like legs. Your eyes never leave his hands, too scared to meet his intimidating eyes. You watch him with curiosity and desire as he tucks his thumbs in the waistband. His briefs come into your view and your eyes widen when you see the impressive bulge outline.
You swallow, intimidated by his size, especially since you haven’t had sex in a decent amount of time. He hasn’t even pulled down his underwear yet and you’re already frothing at the mouth.
“Do you have a condom?”
“I, um,” Your eyes wander around to your purse on the floor by your desk and you quickly bend down to pop it open. In one of your secret pockets, there is a nicely wrapped condom. “Here. I hope it fits.”
Tom laughs as he tugs his briefs down with ease. “You’re not good for my ego.”
You wanted to laugh in response, but you were too distracted by his cock. Mesmerizingly, you gaze at his hand stroking his veiny length, seemingly as desperate as you with pre-cum leaking at the tip.
Instead of grabbing the condom from your hand, Tom says, way too gravelly, “I want you to do it.”
So, with shaky hands and doe-eyes, you rip open the package and slide on the latex. The look on your face can easily make it seem like you’ve never even seen a dick before. But now looking at Tom’s, it feels like all the others are down the drain.
Within seconds, Tom has you back against the wall, one hand resuming beside your head and the other on your hip. Your heart jumped and pussy throbbed, waiting for him to break the lustful barrier in between you two.
“Ready?”
“Y-Yes,” You whimper as the head of his cock glides along your thighs before sliding in between them. Your arousal soaks the condom as he grips one of your legs, hoisting you up and around his waist. Your arms instantly wrap around his neck for security as your leg connects to him like a koala.
With one leg on the floor, you try to maintain your balance as he finally thrusts into you. You both collectively groan in sexual satisfaction, finally having your craving fulfilled. When you thought he had pushed all the way in, Tom pumps deeper inside of you, causing you to squeal.
“Shh, darling. Don’t want anyone to hear us fucking in your office, do you?” Your moans contradict his request, but you can’t help it. His hips were flicking up into you so fucking deliciously, and you couldn’t stop yourself from bucking right back into him. “Or maybe you do. You want someone to walk in and see one of their trainers getting their brains fucked out?”
“M-Maybe,” You couldn’t lie, the idea was enthralling. The idea and his dirty words made your toes curl and eyes roll to the back of your head. He knew exactly what to say and when to say it, almost as if he’d studied this.
“But I don’t want to get fired,” You whined a little too loudly.
“Well, then you better be a good girl and quiet down.”
In order to obey his demand, you brought one of your hands to cover your mouth. You allowed yourself to moan in your palm when his pace increased and he bottomed out completely. You could feel yourself fluttering around his cock as he rammed into you like no tomorrow.
His free hand traveled down to your clit and circled the throbbing bud with roughness. You shrieked against yourself, clenching tightly around his thick cock to compensate. Blindly, you are clawing at the skin on his neck and chest. Still, even when he was deep inside of you, you were terrified to look into his dark eyes.
With every thrust, you felt the way his muscles contracted against you. You felt and heard the way you drenched his cock even more with the sight. His muscles and body were the first thing that caught your eye about him to begin with, so you’re not totally surprised that you’re dripping from that.
He looks like a model. A statue. A god.
Small beads of sweat began to form on his abdomen, glazing down his chunks of muscle as he jammed harder into you. Your head hit the wall hard in ecstasy when he lowered himself to your neck and nibbled right below your ear. Every breath and groan that slipped from his mouth just sent you into overdrive and made you insane.
“I’m close,” You breathily warned, squeezing your leg tightly around him to push him even deeper. Tom groaned loudly on accident, too overpowered by the feeling of you.
“Wish I could hear your sweet sounds,” Tom mumbles as he pinches the top of your thighs to make you squeal. He resumes his attention on your clit, so he can distract himself from coming, because he knows he’s milliseconds away from absolutely losing it. “I know you’d sound so pretty screaming my name.”
“Tom,” You whimpered instead, eyes screwing closed. Your back began arching towards his buff chest and your breathing was becoming more rapid, indicating that your release was right around the corner. “I’m coming, shit.”
“Let go, love. C’mon, know you need it,” his lovely accent guided you through it with gravel encouragement. With another skillful rock of his cock, you were coming until you saw stars. Literally. Your eyes were closed so tightly that you saw little white specks in your vision. “There you go.”
Tom took that as his sign to finally relieve himself. As his thrust got sloppier, he helped you through it. With a fist to the wall and head in your shoulder, he came harshly in the condom.
Your body squirmed in his hold, already too sensitive. He gently let you stand on both feet, keeping you steady as you regained your balance. He removed the condom, tied it, and tossed it in the garbage.
“I can take out y’trash if you want me to,” Tom offered as you both slipped on your clothes. The humidity in the room seemed higher than ever, and then to put your clothes back on was just torturous.
“It’s alright, it’s not like anyone will go through it,” You reassured as you struggled to pull up your sticky leggings.
There was a moment of silence that made your heart rate pick up.You were both fully dressed and there was nothing stopping him from walking out. What was he thinking? Was he trying to find the best way to leave without being mean?
“I—” You both spoke at the same time, a flush burning your skins.
“Go ahead,” You insisted, too nervous and impatient for his response. He probably never wanted to see you again and that was fine, this was just a one-time thing that you will be thinking about occasionally. Or every day.
“Okay,” Now, Tom couldn’t seem to meet your eyes. He felt a tad nervous all of sudden as if he’d never talked to a girl before. He’s done this stuff loads of times, but he can’t help but get flustered like a school boy. “Can I… have your number? You can totally say no—”
“Yes,” You probably responded way too quickly, but you didn’t care. He wanted your number and you weren’t going to waste a second pretending to think about it. A smile grows on his face that was even bigger than his devilish smirk from earlier. “What does this mean?”
If you didn’t ask him, you would’ve been regretting it forever. You knew you wouldn't have had the courage to text him that question. What if he never even texted you, and he was just asking for your number to be nice?
“It means I’m going to text you.”
“Okay, well, thanks for clearing that up for me,” You rolled your eyes, but at least he was honest.
“Maybe ask you out too.”
“Really?” Your heart jumped on a trampoline in your chest, excitement bubbling up within you. You have been on a date in about a year, and Tom seems like a wet dream come true. You thought that maybe he wanted a friends with benefits arrangement, but a date? Is this real life?
“Yeah, if that’s something you want—”
“Yes,” You probably responded way too quickly, but you didn’t care. He wanted to take you on a freaking date and you weren’t going to waste a second pretending to think about it.
You did give him a free cardio session. The least he can do is take you out, right? What’s better than a free cardio session? Free food!
thanks for reading, this isn’t my favorite thing i’ve ever written because it felt a bit forced… so sorry about that 😭
tags: @lnmp89 @crybabyddl @pretty-npeach @marine-mayday @aerangi @justanotherpasserby-blog @tinafuentes @moniffazictress11 @eywaheardyou @alwaysclassyeagle @raajali3 @mrstealuregirl @bisexual-desi @sherlockstrangewolf @madsttx @graywrites20 @bradtomlovesya @princesspannnn @sageisswaggg @purplerose291 @girlbossnancy @lockwood-lover @theslayerofthevampires @breaxthing @eatshitanddiee
crossed out= not able to tag
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pbnjparker · 2 years
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entangled hearts | t. holland
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an: ahh mine and @iovebug​‘s little baby :,) we both hope you enjoy this fic as much as we enjoyed writing it! this is our official submission for @tshwritersnet​ writing sleepover! (which btw! applications are open for new members!) love u all <3
pairing: tom holland x fem!reader
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“I think you’re overdressed, YN. It’s just the reception.”
You looked up at Zendaya who had a goofy smile on her face, “Dude?” you said as you rolled your eyes at her. “I’m kidding!” she laughed as she brought you into a hug.
You sighed, “You scared me for a bit.” you laughed nervously as you flattened out your red silk dress. “Damn girl! Who are you trying to impress?” you felt your cheeks glow red as you looked up and smiled at Jacob. “Obviously, Tom!” Zendaya replied as she lightly tapped your leg.  
“What about me?” Tom asked, “Oh nothing, just talking about how stunning Y/N looks!” Jacob said as he lightly nudged your shoulders.
You looked over at Tom and smiled, “You look great, Tom.” you said, focusing your attention back onto the mirror, “You too Y/N/N, red is definitely your color.”
Tom admired from afar; taken aback by all your beauty, “Thank you.” You smiled softly as you looked over to Zendaya and Jacob who were engulfed in a laughing fit. “What’s so funny guys?” you asked. “Tom your tie. It’s really bad.” Zendaya said in between laughs.
Tom looked confused as he walked over to the mirror, “Holy shit.” he gasped as he tried to fix his tie before looking over to you for help, “I got you, Tom.” you smiled as he turned to face you, “Thank you,” he said, “Don’t know what I would do without you.”
You sighed, “You’d be a 25 year old man who doesn’t know how to tie his tie.” you laughed. “And done.” you said as you smoothed out his shirt, “Did you really wear red to match me?”
Tom laughed. “Yeah.” he breathed out as his cheeks slowly turned a light red, “This isn’t prom, Tom.” You said. “I honestly thought it would be cute,” He shrugged his shoulders, “We’re not dating.”
“Yet!” Jacob said as he walked past the both of you. “It’s only a matter of time.” Zendaya said following Jacob. “Guys!” You scolded as you rolled your eyes, “Stop acting like kids.”
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“Okay and that’s enough drinks for you both.” you said grabbing the two glasses that stood in front of Zendaya and Jacob. “You’re no fun, Harrison would want us to get drunk for him.” Jacob slurred. “See, You’re already talking nonsense.” you laughed as you passed the glasses over to Tom.
Jacob gasped. “How come he gets to drink? Is it because he’s your loverrrrr?” he questioned, dragging out the r, “Okay, Jacob that’s enough.” Tom laughed, “I think we should listen to Y/N. She's scary.”
You let out a sigh.  “Please don’t encourage him.” you giggled looking over to Zendaya who was now gone from her seat. “See we’ve already lost one of them.” you said while getting up. “We’d be terrible parents,” he laughed. “I’ll go get her. Take care of this one.” he pointed over to Jacob who was now pretending to sleep. “Oh gosh, this will be fun!” you sarcastically said. “It’s just you and me.”
Jacob laughed to himself “Tom loves you Y/N.” He said before quickly slapping his hand over his mouth, “What?” You asked. “Oh nothing.” he smiled. “Jacob, what do you mean by he loves me?”
“Nothing, I’m drun-'' Tom cut him off. “Found her! She was trying to get another drink.” He sighed as he watched Zendaya sit back in her seat. “You’re both no fun.” she pouted.
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As the night slowed down and warm bodies moved to the center of the room, you found yourself sitting on the edge of your seat watching as your friends danced around each other. The care-free way they handled themselves as they moved their arms in tune with the music made you laugh but also left your heart feeling warm. You were so lost in overwhelming gratitude you had felt from your found family that you hadn’t even noticed Tom staring at you from across the room.
It all happened so fast but you understood it like you were fluent in speaking the language of all things Tom. It started with his eyes, dark and glittering under the lights, gesturing towards the door. Then it was the lick of his lips. He only did that when he was nervous. Finally it was his entire body slowly shuffling through the crowd of people toward the back door that led to the terrace, his eyes occasionally looking over at you. He wanted you to follow him outside, and whatever it was that he had to tell you, he was nervous about it.
You got up from your seat, picking up the red silk from the ground to follow him outside. Pushing open the door to the outside you were met with a light breeze and the dim light of the lights scattered throughout the lawn. Tom was leaning along the edge of the marble balcony, his back to you as he looked down on the excessively large lawn of the venue. You coughed to alert him of your presence, which instead just startled him into turning around frantically.
“Hey.” he breathed, a small smile playing at his lips as he gestured for you to come over to him.
“Hey,” you smiled back, making your way over to him with your arms tucked behind your back. “You okay?”
“Now I am.” He tried before visibly cringing and laughing with you as you finally reached him, your hands outstretched to his.
“Was that too corny?” He sighed, taking your hands in his. It was getting colder as the night went on which was now evident by the way you could see each breath he was taking and the now red tip of his nose.
“Yeah, it was a little corny.” you teased, causing both you and him to burst out in a fit of giggles, your bodies radiating warmth the closer you got to each other. “Why are we out here?”
“It was getting too loud,” he started, avoiding eye contact, “and I wanted to talk to you.” You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, having no clue what he could want to talk to you about. So you kept quiet, silently urging him along to tell you what was going on.
“I know Jacob told you.” He spoke almost in a whisper, his nervous eyes looking up to meet yours. “He told me when we were dancing and I just thought that no-”
“Jacob told me what?” You cut him off, not wanting him to start rambling out of nerves.
“That I love you.” He stated simply as if he had not just altered the course of your life. Like it was something that was so easy for him that it just rolled off his tongue. Like it was something he had known his whole life.
“You what?” you spoke, slightly stunned and still slightly tipsy.
“Look I know we have been friends for ages and that you might not feel the same and that’s fine but I don’t want to lose you an-” he was quickly cut off by you feverishly pressing your lips to his, doing your best to write “I love you” into him with your tongue. But as quickly as your lips met, you pulled away just to whisper a breathy “I love you.” onto his lips, knowing he needed to hear it.
Before he could pull you in again you noticed the grin spread across his face. Cheek to cheek with his eyelids bunching at the corners, he was truly gleaming at the idea that you loved him back.
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totheblood · 2 years
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people i don't like | tom holland
act one: round one
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summary: college is much harder than you thought it would be and now you have to pretend to be rich and join a sorority to keep your scholarship. tom just happens to be the rich frat boy who gets thrown in the mix.
↳ richkid!au, college!au
word count: 4.3k+
(a/n at end of chapter)
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You were generally a smart person.
At least that’s what you told yourself. You were smart, in an over-achieving, high marks on all your papers kind of way. You were smart, in a valedictorian, staying up late studying type of way. You were smart enough to earn yourself a seat at one of the most elite universities in the world. You were also smart enough to earn yourself a full ride. However, you were not as smart as you thought.
As you grew accustomed to the harsh Connecticut winter, bulking up in thick wool jackets and getting warm with herbal teas, you failed to adapt to the rigorous curriculum at Yale. You found it hard to keep up with your peers, the due dates always being earlier than expected and the words that got you through high school somehow falling short. Whatever work you were doing was described by your professors as dull, lacking understanding, and rushed no matter how hard you tried. This would’ve meant seemingly nothing, the only downside being a bit of a bruised ego, but every time you got a bad grade your mind drifted to your mother.
Your mother who sent you off to college with her last five paychecks and a kiss on the cheek. The mother who raised you all by herself after your father abandoned you. The mother who worked multiple jobs to pay the bills and make sure you never felt the lack of your father. The woman who you knew, even if it wasn’t explicitly said, was banking on the fact that you would graduate from an ivy league and land any job you wanted. A part of you knew your mother would always be proud of you, no matter what you did, but you still felt your stomach sink at the idea that your scholarship might be jeopardized with your poor grades and you would have to leave Yale and compromise the future your mother expected of you.
To your surprise you finished your first semester with 2 A’s, 3 B’s, and a bit of frostbite from the blizzard you had the night before finals. You were really shocked, however, that you had gotten an A in your Advanced English Literature class, seeing as you handed in all your papers late and received nothing but criticism from Professor Berger. So you remained blissfully unaware, arriving back on campus in late January with a new attitude and determination to do better this semester. You were unaware as you unpacked your belongings again and heard your phone chime the same sound it does ten times a day. Unaware as you opened up your email to see in big bold letters:
URGENT - MEETING WITH PROFESSOR BERGER TO FINALIZE YOUR GRADE
After freaking out for about an hour on the phone with your best friend, Fletcher, he urged you to go to Professor Bergers office as soon as possible to get this resolved. So you made your way over to his office on campus, your hands shaking and heartbeat fast as you waited outside his office for him to be finished with whatever student he had decided to torment first. You were almost positive you were having a heart attack and you watched as your vision got blurry until-
“Ms. Y/L/N?” He announced in a loud yet firm voice, his eyes catching your frantic ones. “Are you ready to come in?” He asked, pushing the door more open with his body, his arm outstretched motioning you to come in. So you gave him a nervous smile, averted your eyes, and sat on the chair facing his desk. You sat with your clammy hands and rapid heartbeat as he closed his door behind you and made his way to the other side of the desk. As he sat, he began searching through his desk for your file and upon finding it let out a deep sigh and placed it on the desk between you two.
“Ms. Y/L/N, I know you were probably a bit confused as to how and why you got an A in my class last semester after never submitting a paper on time.” He stated, seeming to wait for your response.
“Well, I would never look a gift horse in its mouth if you know what I mean.” You joked, earning not even a hint of a smile. Tough crowd.
He let out another sigh, rolled up his sleeves, and leaned forward on his desk getting as close to you as his desk would allow. “Look, Y/N, I am a firm believer in second chances. I know that the first semester at Yale is most difficult for new students and I know what it’s like to be in your position. I know there are certain requirements for your scholarship and I would like for you to be able to meet them but for the grade I gave you last semester, you will have to earn that.”
At this point you were confused, scared, and developing a wicked headache so you had no idea what to say. You thought he would keep talking but when he didn’t, you took that as your sign to open your mouth.
“I’m sorry Professor, do you want me to retake your class? Because I think that the times that you have class conflict with my current schedule.” You explained, a smile on your face that pleaded ‘please go easy on me’.
“No, I’m not asking you to retake my class. I am asking you to write an in depth paper about a person, a thing, an organization, anything really that you hate or opposes your worldview. And I’m not talking about mild research, I’m talking literally putting yourself in their shoes. Walk around in them, and then write about it. Write from a different perspective. Become someone new. Your writing is good, but it is also juvenile. It’s inexperienced. You only see the world from your point of view, and to be a good writer, you need to change that.”
All you could catch yourself doing was blinking back in surprise. He wanted you to write a research paper for your A? That you could do, and if it was only one paper then you could also do it really well. So you plastered a smile on your face and nodded back at him.
“So how long do you want it to be? And when is it due?” You inferred, hoping you had time to figure out who this paper was going to be about.
“However long it needs to be to let me know how your view has changed and why. You have until the end of this semester.” This time he gave you a smile. Not a kind smile, but  a smile that let you know that he was in charge.
“What if my views don’t change?” You questioned.
“If you get to know the thing, the people, the organization, some part of your views will change. Not all of it, but some.”
With limited written up instructions, he sent you off into the night, your head now on the verge of exploding from information overload. On your way home you began to think of ideas, who to write about, who you hated, and how you were possibly going to get to walk in their shoes. With your headphones in you couldn’t hear the loud music on sorority row as you approached, but you did see the lights and people scattered all over the lawn. Bodies on top of bodies, and groups of unbelievably hot rich girls and douchey rich frat boys gathered in circles on porches of houses and you rolled your eyes at the entire concept of greek life.
It appalled you how these people spent money on huge houses, useless parties, and galas while you were struggling to even go to this college. How these people, basically dry humping on the lawn, didn’t have to worry about grades or that classes started tomorrow because they could afford to fail. It made you angry but it also made you insanely jealous. However, as you rolled your eyes at the people having fun and ‘living life’ it occurred to you that they just might be the answer to all your problems.
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Fletcher was already outside your dorm room door when you arrived, a chocolate chip cookie in hand. He was the first and only friend you made at school and he was also the reason you made it through the first semester. He was awkward but in a way that made you comfortable to be around him. He was this tall, blonde hair, standard white guy that you would have found attractive if he wasn’t Fletcher. But he was your friend and possibly the best friend you ever had and you in no way wanted to mess that up, the taste of platonic intimacy being all you needed.
“Brought you a cookie.” He stated, smiling and opening his arms up for a hug. You happily obliged since you hadn’t seen your friend in weeks and you were missing human touch. “Just in case you got bad news.” His words getting muffled by your hair.
You pulled back from him and moved to open your door so you both could pile in. “No, not bad news. Just different news.”
He placed the cookie on your desk and sat down on your bed, leaning back and taking off his jacket. “Different news? What does that mean?” He watched as you took your jacket and shoes off and hopped on the bed next to him.
“It means that Professor Berger wants me to write a paper about something that I oppose, but I have to really get to know it.” You told him, your voice low as you rested your head against the wall.
“That makes no sense to me.” Fletcher replied, leaning up on his elbows to get a good look at you. “What are you gonna do?”
“I think I’m going to rush Kappa Kappa Gamma.” You stated simply, getting up to grab your cookie and quickly returning to your spot on the bed. Fletcher, however, quickly sat up and sat crossed legged across from you, watching your movements.
“What do you mean you're going to rush Kappa Kappa Gamma? Do you want to lose your soul?” He asked rushed as if he was genuinely worried about you joining a sorority.
“It’s not like for real, just something to write my paper about. That’s all.” You took a bite of your cookie as your friend began to look more panicked.
“Y/N, do you know what they do to people who rush sororities? Awful things. People die from hazing, you know. And isn’t the initiation fee like a thousand dollars?” He questioned frantically, making good points, and while you knew that Fletcher was protective of you, you were also sure that rushing greek life wouldn’t be the worst thing that could happen to you.
“I have money saved up from the cafe that I don’t have anything to spend on. And I can take care of myself, Fletch. I promise I won’t let some sorority girls kill me.” You tried reassuring him, which seemed to work but he still looked a bit spooked.
“Just be careful, Y/N, if you decide to do this.” He pleaded, grabbing your hand. “Please?” 
“I will be careful, I promise.”
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ROUND ONE
Round one took place that Saturday night, the KKG foyer decorated elegantly with baby pink streamers and a big bright banner that read: Welcome To Your Future. You wanted to laugh at the irony, but didn’t. You were ashamed to admit that you spent over 200 dollars on a dress from Free People that seemed to fit you in the right places. It was silk with a deep V neck and flowy sleeves. It was long and flowy, yet form fitting at your waist. It was comfortable enough to wear with your large leather jacket with fur trimmings that you thrifted a month ago back home. You spent over an hour doing your makeup, trying to play up your best features with your newest purchases from Sephora. You are also not proud to admit that you spent over an hour doing a deep conditioning treatment on your hair so it could look extra healthy for tonight. Needless to say, you were dressed for the part.
To your surprise, that wasn’t the hard part. The hard part would be talking like you belonged there. Finding out where rich people buy their groceries, buy their clothes, what gyms they had subscriptions to. The hard part would be the conversation, the forced laughter, and trying to not look absolutely disgusted when taking a bite of caviar. It was making sure your posture was right, making sure you exuded enough confidence for them to want to get to know you. Confidence had never been your strong suit, but you were sure it was something you could muster up for a night or two, or maybe that was your fake confidence talking.
Whatever it was, you were in a room full of girls your age who either looked terrified or absolutely at home and you could tell you were teetering the line between the two. So you made your way across the room to where two tall, clean, and effortlessly beautiful women were standing beside a table full of finger foods and premade cocktails. You didn’t acknowledge them, seeing as you didn’t want to come off as desperate or needy, but they definitely noticed you. 
You watched from the corner of your eye as the two girls looked you up and down before turning to each other and whispering. You wanted to yell at them about how whispering is rude but instead you took a glass filled with champagne and a baby pink bow around the stem and took a swig from the cup before turning your attention to the party. You were observing the other girls, with their long flowy dresses and silky hair and wondered to yourself how much you truly looked like them. You were just getting lost in your thoughts when the girls from before approached you.
“Hi, I’m Millie.” The first girl smiled, a hand outstretched for yours. She was the type of beautiful people wrote books about. She had a sculpted face and amber eyes with the highest cheekbones you have seen in your life. She had long honey brown hair that sat nicely on her shoulders and she wore a strapless black dress that would’ve hit the floor if it wasn’t for her long legs and high heels. “Millie Astor, I’m the president of Kappa Kappa Gamma.” She bragged and offered you a sugary sweet smile as you took her hand and shook before quickly retreating. “And you are?”
“I’m Y/N Y/L.” You smiled so widely that your cheeks hurt. “It’s so beautiful what you’ve done with the place. Truly stunning.” you beamed. You were unsure if this was going to win you points with Millie, but you didn’t want to come off as detached or have her believe you thought you were too good for this sorority. 
“Thank you, sweetie.” Condescending, you thought to yourself. “Are you planning on rushing KKG?” She inquired in an insincere way. 
“I’m thinking about it, yes. My mom is a legacy at Kappa Alpha Theta so I’m also rushing there.” You replied back to her in the same insincere way. She smiled at you like you said the right thing and placed a gentle hand on your shoulder.
“Well, please consider rushing Kappa Kappa Gamma. We would be lucky to have you.” This time she actually sounded sincere.
“I’ll think about it. It was lovely talking to you.”
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About 30 minutes had passed and you had already talked to enough people to last you a lifetime, but you needed everyone here to like you. You don’t know why you needed it to be that way, but you assumed that it would be easier to get dirt if you got on good with everyone here. But as the night went on and you began on your fifth champagne flute, you found yourself sitting down next to some girl seated at the kitchen island.
“Hey,” she smiled the first genuine smile of the night, almost seeming shocked that someone was sitting down next to her. 
“Hey.” you smiled back, giving her the best half smile you could muster.
“I’m Hazel.” she told you more awkwardly this time, her confidence draining by your cold demeanor.
“I’m Y/N.” You sighed, keeping your gaze with her and taking another sip from your champagne flute. She had shoulder length black hair and tan skin. Her kind eyes kept creasing everytime she spoke and she was suited in a short gold dress that you were sure cost more than your house. She looked nice, but she also looked nervous.
“Are you anxious?” You asked, glancing at her fingers playing with her thumbs.
“That obvious?” She laughed, the tension draining from her body but you just held her gaze and gave her a real smile. “Yeah, I’m really anxious. I feel like I don’t belong here when getting into this sorority has been a lifelong dream of mine.” That’s a sad dream, you thought.
“What makes you think you don’t belong here? You certainly look the part.” You told her. This was you in your own way trying to be nice.
“I know I have this fancy dress on and my mom is a legacy but I just feel like the people here don’t get me like I thought they would.” She confided in you, her head now resting on the cold tile of the kitchen island, her brown eyes glancing up at you.
“Well, you just have to act the part now. Make them get you. Assimilate or some shit like that.” That sounded more comforting in your head. “Or just drink until everything anyone says becomes funny.” She let out a giggle and lifted her head up to look at you.
“Thank you.” she sighed.
“For what?” you wondered, completely confused.
“For being the first person to make me laugh tonight.” She gave you a large grin that was completely replaced with a look of confusion as you both heard loud noises coming from the entryway. She jumped up off her seat to find out where it was coming from and you quickly followed behind her to find a group of guys entering through the front door. Some of the girls who were already a part of the sorority were hugging and greeting their loud guests while some of them started to move inside and pick off the food table. 
There was, however, a brunette among the crowd who had his eyes locked with you. His curls were slicked back making his hair look almost wet. He was wearing a baby blue button down shirt and pants that were way too fitting as he stood across the room with his eyes fixed on you. He then offered you a smile and a tiny wave before you averted your gaze and turned towards Hazel, a weird look on your face.
“It’s Alpha Delta Phi, the brother sorority.” Hazel notified you trying to answer the question you had asked in your head.
“Oh, I know that, I just want to know who that guy is. The one who is staring at me.” You glanced over at him quickly so Hazel could know who you were talking about.
“Babe, he’s not staring, he’s checking you out.” She giggled as you could feel the heat rush to your face. 
“I don’t care what he’s doing, I want to know who he is.” You snapped at her, but in a friendly way. In a way that made her giggle and put her hand over her mouth.
“That’s Tom, he’s like modern day royalty I swear. He’s loaded.” She informed you causing you to literally roll your eyes.
“What, you don’t like hot rich men?” She giggled again, linking arms with you and dragging you to the food table with her.
“I’m just tired of douchebags, I think.” You popped a grape in your mouth before browsing the rest of the food on the table. 
“Oh, he’s not a douchebag. I heard he’s very nice which is why almost everyone here wants to date him. A guy with money who is nice? Unheard of.” She also grabbed a grape and popped that in her mouth before grabbing an appetizer that resembled a wonton and began eating it.
“I wish he would be nice enough to stop staring at me.” You mumbled, glancing over to where the brunette was deep in conversation with another much taller guy. He would occasionally glance over at you, smirk when he caught your eye, and then give his attention back to his friend.
“Are you not into guys?” Hazel asked, throwing you out of your trance as you shook your head in confusion as to why she was asking you that.
“No, I am. Why do you ask that?” You eyed her, obviously intimidating her.
“It’s just that here you have this hot, rich, and apparently nice guy. I just don’t understand how you could not want him to stare at you?” She was making good points, but that didn’t take away from the fact that you were here for one thing only and you didn’t need any distractions.
“I’m just not into dating at the moment. It’s not for me.” This was partially true. To say you had commitment issues would be the understatement of the century. Ever since you watched your parents' marriage fall apart right in front of you, everything having to do with love quickly turned sour. The idea of even settling down caused your stomach to flip upside down and you didn’t think that some rich boy with nice hair could change that. Especially if he was JUST some frat guy.
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Later that night you found yourself walking home alone. You didn’t want to waste money on an uber seeing as you needed to save as much money as possible to not only pay your initiation fee, but to also keep up the charade. You also didn’t feel like taking public transportation this late at night so you decided to do what you always do: pretend you are on the phone and walk as fast as your heels would allow you.
It would’ve been a nice night to walk home if it wasn’t so cold and your feet weren’t killing you from standing in your heels all night. There were fairy lights that were strung across each house and the streets were relatively empty. You could hear music coming from various houses on sorority row and see silhouettes of people dancing through the windows. Needless to say, you felt very safe walking home.
You were feeling safe until a black sports car started tailing you. You could hear how fast it was driving prior, but was met with silence when it started going much slower right behind you. You wanted to run into a house, scream, or call for help but you were frozen and just hoped whoever was in that car would leave you alone. You held your breath as the car pulled up to you and maintained its pace with yours as you walked. The window rolled down to reveal the brunette from earlier, the one who was staring you down.
You stopped in your tracks to glare at him. He had that same stupid smirk from earlier on his face and you could tell that he expected it to make you swoon, but it didn’t.
“What? Are you stalking me?” You asked harshly, your night officially being too long.
“No, not stalking you.” He gave you a wide grin. “I promise.” He made a crossing motion over his heart and you had to admit that it was kind of endearing. You, however, chose not to respond, raising your eyebrow and urging him to speak.
“I saw you walking and wanted to see if you needed a ride home.” He offered. “I’m Tom, by the way.” He was cute in a boyish way. His dimples made his eyes wrinkle around the edges and his teeth were straight and white. He looked well put together, like he looked after himself or had someone to do that for him. He looked calm and safe, but don’t most serial killers look calm and safe these days?
“Well, Tom, I’m not supposed to get in cars with strangers.” You teased. “What if you kidnap me?” This earned a hearty laugh from him, his head shaking as he tried to hide his blush.
“I won’t kidnap you, but if it makes you feel safe I could roll the windows down, keep the door unlocked, and drive really slow.” You could tell he was being nice and sincere but you still took caution upon entering his vehicle. You had never been in a car this nice and you had to be careful to not let on that you weren’t one of the sorority girls he was used to. 
Not to your knowledge, but at the same time you were getting into Tom’s car Millie was walking down the block with the pack of cigarettes that she had previously hidden under the floorboards in her hand. She wouldn’t have recognized you as the girl getting in Tom’s car if it wasn’t for the dress you wore that made you stand out among the crowd. She couldn’t help but smile to herself watching the car drive off with you inside it. 
After you told him which dorm you lived in, he kept his promise and drove excruciatingly slow, but you just assumed he wanted to spend more time with you. He didn’t play music and kept glancing over at you to make sure you were okay and comfortable, smiling to himself about how you were playing with your hands and was visibly nervous.
“Why were you walking back home anyway?” He broke the silence, only glancing over at you for a moment before turning his attention back to the road. You had to come up with a lie and you had to come up with one quickly.
“I just think walking is better for my health, so I don’t have a car.” It was a blatant lie but you thought it sounded shallow enough for him to believe you. “But it was really cold tonight so I’m glad you picked me up, I just canceled my Uber.” He just hummed in response, his long fingers drumming against the steering wheel.
“So you’re rushing KKG?” he wondered, this time not looking over at you at all. 
“Yeah, I thought it would be fun. Everyone seems so nice.” He let out a loud laugh that actually caused you to jump out of your seat.
“Nice isn’t the first word I would use to describe Kappa girls but I can tell you’re nice enough to try to compliment them.” He told you after he caught his breath.
“Yeah, I mean, I felt like I was definitely being judged but nobody threw me down and started punching me so I assumed they were nice enough.” This time you glanced over at him. You could see the little freckles on this side of his face and the texture on his skin. The tip of his nose turned upwards as he spoke and his lips wer- Ok, no, you were not going to do this.
“That’s your standard for niceness? Someone not throwing you down and punching you?” he asked in a teasing tone.
“Yeah, I think so.” You replied back, watching your dorm room appear in the distance.
“Do you think I’m nice then?” he asked his voice now low and subtly flirty, looking over at you again.
“Hm, maybe. I’d have to get to know you, I think.” You whispered back, smiling as his cheeks changed shades. What the fuck were you doing.
“Well, I’ll show you just how nice I can be.”
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That Sunday morning you decided to sleep in, but were rudely awakened by a notification from your phone.
DEAR Y/N Y/L, YOU HAVE BEEN INVITED TO ROUND TWO AT KAPPA KAPPA GAMMA
LOVE, MILLIE
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a/n: i am ashamed to say this took me two days to write not including my outline... but i actually love this plotline and i think it will be a fun challenge to write but i have a lot of scenes mapped out and character boards which i think i will like just make igs for them as a concept andddd yea ok i hope you like... I APPRECIATE ANY AND ALL FEEDBACK MWAH!
taglist and mutuals: @sxfik @olsensnpm @userholland @gwenscindys @spideyspeaches @cocoamoonmalfoy @venomsilk @spvilers @petereading @honeyspidey @spideyobsessed @vendettaparker @erule @4ppurrr @vxid42 @wildholland @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah @lovebyceleste @mayal0pez @ariianelle @keanureevesisbae @ghiblijoons @peterparkoure @starstruckspring @willie-ivy @spideyy @seaveysinn @simplyparker @silkscream @silkholland
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dre6ming · 1 year
Text
The delicate beginning rush
Instagram photo dump part IV
Masterlist <chapters 1 through 6 here>
Instagram photo dump masterlist
To be added to the tag list click here
!!! Everything fake !!!
credits to @oh-austin for the template
𓅭𓅮𓅯𓅰𓅭𓅮𓅯𓅰𓅭
jackantonoff
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Liked by y/n4real.2002 , taylorswift and 1.394.290others
jackantonoff: made some magic…no better life than the life we’re living #comingsoon
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y/n4real.2002: you don’t have to change a thing the world could change it’s heart.
↳fan192: miss thing Taylor is my mom, are these lyrics?
↳y/n4real.2002: fan192 👀🤐
↳fan_love: that’s it, you’re not allowed enjoys anymore.
↳y/n4real.2002: fan_love but I love them too much😭💜
↳fan_love: I’m dying. Rip me.
taylorswift: magic seems just about right✨
↳y/n4real.2002: you know it 🤫
↳tsfan: we need a new colab queens
↳fan203: I double that we need more duets
finneas: hope you left some of that magic for when I come back
↳y/n4real.2002: ofc I did. 😊
↳billieeilish: 🫣
↳fan292: what? Billie what?
↳billiefan: this is killing me🫡
amas: definitely the most anticipated album right now
↳fan29_: wait did the American music awards just confirm this is an album?
↳ts_fan: brb…loosing my mind.
y/n4real.2002
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Liked by austinbutler , tchalemet and 2.394.389others
y/n4real.2002: no better you than the you that you are….oh you’re beautiful. Today was a long long day, full of whispers and gossip, but time spent in the studio with jackantonoff can heal any wounds. #noscarstoyourbeautiful
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fan292: I just know that she wrote a bop about that horrible article
↳fan_lv: what article?
↳fan-398: the one speculating she’s dating Austin Butler
↳ab_fan: 🤔 but the proof is right there
↳fan-fan: no it’s not, let it go already
tchalemet: turn around I want to see you smile
↳y/n4real.2002: haha come on now I’m trying to have an aesthetic here 😭😭
↳fan-ts: omg this is so funny
↳tcfan1: big bro coming in with that love and support
↳fan1: they are unapologetically iconic
joshua_fan: guys our queen looks stunning
↳joshua2-fan: yes!!! He scored big time with this one, they look so cute together
austinbutler: I’ll be waiting to hear this one 💜
↳y/n4real.2002: we’ll see
↳ab-1fan: guys I’m losing my mind
↳fan4kaia: um this man has no limit
ab-fan-ep: I’m officially subscribed to loving her
↳joshua-fan45: amen
gossip.news
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gossip.news: there you have it, our first official proof that y/n4real.2002 and joshuabassett are in fact dating. This is the second time the pair is photographed together. Acting in love and goofy in Central Park, the two are a view for sore eyes. Congrats to the happy couple. #gossip #y/nxjoshua #newcouple
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fan192: yes guys we won. Look how happy she looks😩🥺
↳fan_23: they look so good together.
↳34fan4y/n: yes!! Oh to be them😩 💜
fan56: guys the HANDSTAND, he’s holding her up - I can’t 😭😭🤣🤣
↳joshuafan12: they are unap cheesy and I’m living for it.
↳fan_2-3: omg yes exactly, they are so iconic. I can’t with them.
hater4: good thing she finally settled, seems like that pussy wasn’t strong enough to break AB’s relationship
↳hate84: 👀
↳2haters: yet they still interact on ig. He liked her post and commented, then she replied to him.
↳kaia.fan: hungry little minx, the both of them have no shame
fans-of-kaia: do you guys think he was in Boston to break things off?
↳fan_ab.nd.ep: oh my lord what if🫡😭
↳joshua-fan23: then we know this is PR to save both of their asses. Poor Joshua
↳fan.loevly: let’s not talk be4 we know for sure, they look happy
factsabfan2: and here I was rooting for her and Austin. Guess it’s over 😔😔
↳abfan_ep: they are friends guys, let’s respect them
↳kaiafan23: or he was feeling so guilty of getting caught that he broke it off.
↳fan20: all of these are assumptions, that have no proof to back them.
fan_3fan: couple goals. Periodt 👨‍🍳💋
↳ab-fan1: I’ll agree here, I didn’t think I could like her so much, but she’s great
↳23fan.love: 🥺🥺 seeing Austin Butler and Joshua Bassett fans get swept away by our girl makes so much sense
↳fanofjoshua: 23fan.love haha we couldn’t help it, she’s too amazing
roxanne.02_b1tch
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Liked by y/n4real.2002 , austinbutler and 1.394.290 others
roxanne.02_b1tch: it’s just a tiny spider…🙄…I know tomholland2003 would be disappointed.
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tomholland2003: indeed I am!! Not to say a little hurt
↳y/n4real.2002: that’s fine I liked Toby’s movies better anyway. He won’t judge
↳tomholland2003: war, this is war my dear
↳zandaya: man chill 🤣🤣 you’re scared of them too
↳roxanne.02_b1tch: tomholland2003 you’re exposed
↳tomfan28: Z just ended him 😭🤣
fan34: me too queen me too, I’m terrified of them 🤡
↳fan_lovle: damn right :)
abfan: guys Austin liked this 😱 he liked her best friends post.
↳fansofaustin: he just followed Roxi as well 👀
↳fan-of-ab: of they are getting serious here
tchalamet: roxanne.02_b1tch thanks for this, it made my day. Hey y/n4real.2002 hope it didn’t eat you
↳y/n4real.2002: hm fine be like this, I’ll be sure to picture you and your best friends the goats, next trip we take to the zoo
↳roxanne.02_b1tch: haha no problem T man. Also good Y/n hit him where it hurts
↳tc-fan: guys Timmy’s scared of goats - this is so amazing 🤣🤣
fan.1.fan: notice the power of women??🧐 they so casually exposed two grown men and their phobias
↳fan.no1: icons
y/n4real.2002
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Liked by tchalemet , austinbutler and 2.393.392 others
y/n4real.2002: who else is gonna grocery shop with me at 2 am. 📸: roxanne.02_b1tch
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tchalamet: you’ve got it sis. I’ll always grocery shop w/ u at 2am
↳y/n4real.2002: I know, love you 💜 and roxanne.02_b1tch love you too
↳roxanne.02_b1tch: love the both of you to the moon and to Saturn
↳ts.13.fan: we love a Taylor fan Roxi
austinbulter: you actually did this a 2am?
↳y/n4real.2002: does this surprise you?
↳ab-fan18: omg omg omg I swear at this point all he does is get on instagram to simp for her.
joshuabassett: 💜
↳y/n4real.2002: 💟
↳fan4joshua: ok you cryptic people, ok, be sweet and secretive
↳fan.384: they own these emojis now 💟💜
ab-k-fan: ugh it’s so upsetting to see him be so in our faces about her
↳fan4kaia: so outrageous, he’s a manwh0re and she was supposed to do better. #justice4kaia
tchalamet
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Liked by y/n4real.2002 , paulinechalamet and 1.029.278 others
tchalamet: more 2am grocery shopping
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paulinechalamet: you guys know the grocery store is open during daytime as well. Right?
↳tchalamet: no one asked for your input miss
↳y/n4real.2002: hahaha but 2am is such a fun hour to shop
tcfan12: when do these two even sleep if all they do is shop all night??
↳fan.23: they are vampires, they don’t sleep
↳love.fan: knowing her as the big twilight fan that she is, I know she’s laughing while reading this
↳y/n4real.2002: you bet I am!! This is the skin of a killer love.fan *does my best Robert Pattinson voice
↳fan4-you: her best Robert Pattinson voice 🤣🤣 I’m floored
ab_gossip: Austin liked this post too. He’s really not shy
↳fans-ab_ep: ugh he really isn’t 😩
Tags: @kittenlittle24 @amorx @cryingabtab @lexicox044 @lrissa @feral4austinbutler @sageskywalker @jesssssicaa @rainydayz101 @flwersgarden @bobthefishiesworld @captured-memory @homebodybirkin2003 @galaxygirl453 @butlerslut @chrisevansgirl34 @myradiaz @pennyroyalcreep @macey234 @im-lame-irl @lordandmistress @the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf @poppet05 @gabbywontlose @4shbug @0-thegoodwitch-0 @hauntedarchivesx @chewiethecatus @sunnyx07 @francesbloomer @jessaroni19 @finelineskies @stargirlbytheweeknd @cerenaydins-blog @girlblogger2002 @gigisworldsstuff @my-baexht-Is @xmusselisims @denised916 @bluepeacheslandia @kibumslatina
@samaraannhan20 @goldobsessionworld @silliypapercreatorangle @cmrxac @donnamarie23 @justarandomfamdomblog @marlowmode @natsnosehair @xxgggooomm @banksmars @namoreno @areuirish @choppedlamphandscowboy @yeetfack-blog @fangirl125reader @aliceforbes @k-1898 @lucid315
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blissfulparker · 2 years
Note
Could you possibly write something fluffy about Tom's love language being physical touch and can you make it a bit long?
You don't have too but it's greatly appreciated!
Wrapped around your waist, arm, thigh, or even intertwined with your own fingers, your boyfriend always had his hand around you.
On Friday night, smushed in the crowd of the pub with friends, his hand wrapped around your waist. strumming the soft beat of the song you two had on repeat earlier in the car on the curvature of your waist, his hand came to you for comfort. 
For awhile, it took you time. On your first date tom did not shy away from reaching to hold your hand after dinner and leaning in to kiss your cheek. He treated you as if you had been dating for months.
You were shocked by how comfortable he had gotten, completely skipping the ‘nervous to hold hands’. Everyone you had ever been with romantically at least was awkward in the first month of dating. Tom was different, he treated you gently and with care but also passionately with protection.
Then he would have no fear in pulling you into his lap during movie nights with his family, his brothers teasing causing you to feel flustered yet tom only brought you in more. With each witty comment they threw at the two of you being so in love he would just use his free hand to flip them off and plant a kiss to wherever he could on your face.
Quickly, he had no problem with everyone knowing you two were dating. He loved touching you to let you know that he was there and as quickly as you learnt his ways to love, the quicker you longed for it.
Now all you needed was his touch. Loud music raged through the pub, drunken karaoke was keeping the night young and Tom had one hand wrapped around a beer as he caught up with his best mate while his other hand had you. Anytime he felt you even slightly shift he had squeezed ever so slightly to let you know he was still there.
With your conversation about Harry’s new film project coming to an end, you wrap your hand around Tom’s which quickly catches your attention.
“Ready to go home, darling?” You had been so thankful he ditched the contacts recently for his glasses. He always complained about how dry his eyes got and the black thick rim glasses fit him.
“We can stay out a bit longer.” You encourage as the last thing you had wanted was for him to go home because you had felt a little tired from the week.
“It’s no big deal, we can head home if you’re ready.” He pays his full attention to you and Harrison had already moved on to talking to someone else. His nails gently scratch up and down your back letting you relax in his touch.
“You haven’t seen these people in like—“ you start to use excuses and he only steps forward.
“And I will see them tomorrow when I go golfing, let’s go home, laying in bed with you sounds like something I could go for right about now.” He smirks but you always knew on nights like these all he wanted was sleep. Maybe there would be a lazy make-out session after teeth were brushed and pjs were on but nothing more.
“Don’t get too excited Holland, there’s nothing sexy about a girl who just spent a week in the office and is now wanting to go to sleep before 2am.” You tease by placing your hands on his chest and with that he takes the time to put his beer down to wrap his other hand around your waist.
“Let’s go home.” He says one last time with a kiss on your cheek.
For the first time all night, his hand slipped off of you to let you say bye to everyone properly. Most people may think he’s being possessive, maybe insecure or needy but that was never the case. He was none of those things except maybe a little needy when he had been away for too long but his touch was only meant to love you, never hurt you.
Some people needed words, maybe some sort of act to let their partner know they care or to feel cared for but Tom needed to just remember what you feel like. To feel the touch of your skin after every shower, every lotion apply and every time he can to let you know he loves you. He knew your body better than anyone else, physically and mentally. When you were hurt he knew exactly where and how to fix it. He knew you, that was how he loved you.
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