#tom holland fan fiction smut

[shawnxstyles]

the only one

DATE: JANUARY 2, 2024

summary: you go on your first date with peter, and it ends even better than you could have ever expected. ;)

request: yes!

words: 6.3k

warnings: SMUT (f-receiving [oral, fingering, multiple orgasms], protected sex, dirty talk), language, and the most gentlemanly man.

note: i cannot believe i’m finally writing another gyno!peter after all this time… anyway, this is NOT an actual series, simply just more situations/scenes of these two together!

gynecologist!peter x patient!y/n

–

Every date that you’ve been on in the past never made you this nervous. You didn’t spend two hours just deciding on what to wear and taking an extra hour to prepare yourself. You worked for a fashion magazine, editing and reviewing comments and critiques. You were surrounded by clothes and creativity all day, but struggled to pick a “first-date look” from your closet. You swore you read something about that before…

You never thought first dates were anything more than a simple introduction, a first impression of another human being. It was one of the foundations of the question, “Could I get along well enough with this person to go on a second date?”.

You had only been on two first dates: one with your ex, who you were with for four months, and recently with that guy from your work. The second one was mainly just a hook-up, and the first one obviously led to some type of relationship that didn’t work out in the end. Maybe you didn’t have enough experience in the dating world to be wondering if the amount of nerves you had right now was healthy.

Your hands were clammy as you strapped on your black heels. You noticed you were swallowing more frequently than normal, and you didn’t understand why. When you looked in the mirror, your hands flattened out your black dress more times than you could count, ridding wrinkles that aren’t even there.

After your appointment a few weeks ago, you had texted Peter. More specifically, you texted him the next day. Immediately after simply saying hello and your name, you thought of how many other people he may have given his phone number to. Or worse, how many people he had fingered in his office… You started worrying if you shouldn’t have texted him at all because he was a doctor. He was probably too busy for anything. It was just a nice gesture, maybe?

But an hour later, in the evening, he had texted you back with a short apology. He was working a little past the clock in order to get more doctor stuff done. Even his texts were sweet with a dab of charm. How do women control themselves around him?

Or maybe it was just you, and you were a fucking weirdo.

Yeah it could be that.

Peter and you went on to texting every now and then to texting daily. Texting him was something to look forward to after a long day at work. It also became pretty clear that he wasn’t texting anyone else because well, he was working throughout the day doing doctor stuff while you were doing editor stuff. He would even text you during his lunch break and that always made your heart skip to see his message in the middle of the day.

One night in particular, you were complaining to Peter (yes, you had gotten to the point where you could complain about little inconveniences) about your sink malfunctioning. Instead of asking you to send pictures of the pipes under the sink, he had you FaceTime him. It was the first time you guys have ever called and the second time you’ve ever seen his face, so your heart was a little race-y. But when that charming, wide grin flashed on your screen, he easily slipped into conversation. Peter helped you fix your sink with a little wrench movement along with replacing a broken screw through the phone.

It wasn’t awkward. It was relieving.

You didn’t have to force a certain personality in order to engage in a conversation with him. You felt more yourself than you ever have when talking to him, flowing easily like two streams into one. You hadn’t even realized how late it was by the time you guys ended the call until he was gone. The serenity of your place felt a little more emptier than usual without the sound of his beautiful accent from your speaker. It was nearly midnight by the time you went to bed, wondering how things would be if you and Peter took your friendship a bit further.

Would talking always be this simple? Would he always be this charming?

After that night, you would make excuses to call him. He never denied you, even after he told you he had a long day at the hospital. You guys were not only texting now, but calling daily. You would get excited for his texts and calls, looking forward to talking to him. That’s when you realized you wanted more with him. It felt like you knew each other forever, but it had merely been a few weeks. You wanted to go on a date with him, wanted to be with him in person again. And of course, your mind wandered to the thought of how he is in bed.

If he was that good with just his quick fingers, then how good was he with more space and time? You began to dream about it.

Then he finally asked you. It was so sudden, you honestly didn’t expect it.

You were debriefing your plans for the week and what you had to do at work.

“Sometimes, I feel like my life is on repeat,” You chuckle, but it sounds tired.

“You’re always doing the same thing every week?” Peter questions. He found that he loves just listening to you talk for hours about whatever. He prompts you with questions, and you always answer thoroughly. It’s like an unspoken routine for you two.

“I mean, it feels like that. I never have time to go out and do anything. And when I do, I don’t go out,” You half-smile to yourself as you look down at your lap. You sounded kind of lame, so you were trying not to cringe at yourself.

“You told me your agenda for this week, but what about Saturday and Sunday?”

“Oh, well, you know I don’t work on the weekends. Sometimes, I get extra stuff done at home, but only because I’m bored. I watch TV…” You squint your eyes, trying to think of things you do on the weekend when you’re not busy. “You know, I’m listening to what I’m saying, and I am so lame. God, I need a life outside of work.”

“You’re not lame. Just busy. Give yourself some credit,” he waves off your dig at yourself, and you don’t stop yourself from smiling. He’s just too nice. You can’t take your eyes off him through the small screen as he watches you back.

“Yeah, yeah. Enough about me. What are your weekend plans?” You definitely talk too much, so you always attempt to ask him questions back.

“Well, I was thinking of taking you out,” he very casually says, nonchalantly staring at you through the camera. “Unless you’re busy watching TV.”

“W-What?” Heat crawled up your neck and ears, skin flaming off of his quick words. He’s always charming and always confident with you, so why are you surprised he’s this smooth? You wonder if he’s been thinking about it for a while or if he just got the idea randomly. “Are you serious?”

“Yes. Unless you don’t want to. In that case, I am joking…”

“I want to, Peter,” You smile with the words. It feels impossible to lower your cheek muscles because of the giddiness coursing through you. “If I’m honest, I’ve kind of been waiting for you to ask me.”

“I was a little slow, yeah?”

“Yeah, both the turtle and the hare beat you to the finish line,” His wonderful laugh echoes through the speaker of your phone, and it fills you with warmth.

While other people have belittled you and forced you to be one way, Peter naturally allows you to be yourself. Your wit flourishes, and your insecurities fade into unique parts of you. Whether you two are friends or more, you need more people like Peter in your life.

After you two had confirmed the plans for Saturday, you two both went to bed when the call ended. When your head hits the pillow, it’s instantly filled with scenarios of you and Peter. Mostly how your first date might go. Is he the type to pull out a chair for you? Definitely. Would he pay without a second glance? Probably, knowing he has that doctor paycheck. Would he kiss you after walking you back to your door? Maybe, maybe not.

But he did finger-fuck you in his office, so nothing is really that impossible.

So, you let your mind wander for the rest of the night while you sleep peacefully. Yes, you had some great dreams.

–

Instead of texting you that he’s here, Peter knocks on your door. The sound itself made your heart accelerate instantly as you stride quickly to answer it. You’ve been overthinking all the ways that this day could go bad, seriously hoping that it doesn’t.

“Hey,” Peter says, clearly eyeing you up and down. He sounds slightly breathless, but not as if he just ran to your door. No, more like he’s speechless. But you could just be overanalyzing every little detail.

“Hey,” As you repeat the word back, you’re both silent for a second. It’s not awkward as it is tense. You’re both just observing and taking in the appearance of the other, appreciating the time and effort in the looks. Peter’s wearing a navy button-up with black slacks. The first two buttons are undone, giving you a peek at his seemingly smooth chest. He’s not wearing a jacket, so you get a view of his arms. From the way the rich fabric stretches around his muscles, it’s obvious that he works out. He just keeps getting better. He continues to check more of your boxes. “Let me just go grab my purse really quick.”

You snatch your bag off of the coffee table after checking you have everything. What if his one flaw is that he won’t pay for at least half the dinner? You must prepare for all the possible outcomes.

“You look brilliant,” You can see him swallow before his compliment, and you wonder if he’s as nervous as you are. He never makes it a point to look even the slightest bit unsure, which you admire. He’s very charming, which takes a lot of confidence, and he’s very good at it. When he asked you out in his office, you saw that persona slip just a tad, enough for you to see that he is human and that he gets nervous too. You found him adorable. You still do.

“You as well,” You blush as you shut the door behind you. The two of you walk to his car, and of course, he opens the door for you. You can’t stop blushing. “Seriously, how do you make such a simple outfit look so good?”

“Unbutton it,” he answers before gently shutting your door closed. Your mind instantly went to places that it shouldn’t have, making your skin burn. You thought about unbuttoning his shirt slowly and sensually until it fell down his bulky arms. You thought about unbuttoning his slacks and palming his cock. He would be so hard for you, and you didn’t hesitate to get on your knees. God, you wished it was real because you truly would not hesitate for this man.

You shake your head, attempting to rid yourself of those dirty thoughts, so you can have a peaceful date. A first date with Peter.

–

When you guys get to the restaurant, that small voice in the back of your head expects it to be awkward the second you sit down. But once again, you were proven incorrect.

Peter instantly engages in a smooth conversation, asking how your week was overall. You told him all about work and the papers you’re reviewing, and he told you about some of his patients. Every time he mentions anything doctor related, it just makes you swoon. It’s impressive how intelligent he is, and even more so how hard he works. It’s obvious he loves what he does, and you never realized that loving one’s passion was a must-have in your partner checklist.

You also just love the way he talks. His accent makes your skin hot and your spine tingle. Your mind wanders to places it shouldn’t more often than not. And his gaze never leaves yours, only when talking to the waiter when ordering.

There is never a dull moment. Even as you were patiently waiting for your food, you still found things to talk about.

“What do you think they’re celebrating?” he asks, observing two people in the back corner with smiles on their faces.

“They’re dressed nicely, and they’re holding hands too much to be together for that long. I’m going to guess the three or four month anniversary.”

“What about them?” he nudges his head in the direction of the people not too far from you two, sitting with straight faces.

“Oh, they’re not celebrating. Probably breaking up.”

“Who goes to such a nice restaurant for a break-up?”

“I don’t know. Sounds like rich people problems to me,” You joke, and you both share a chuckle. It feels nice to casually chat and people watch with somebody else. When your food arrives, you both eat with more adding silence, slipping in words slowly.

“Did I tell you you look really good tonight?” Peter changes the topic, eyes fixating back onto you.

“Yes… Thank you,” You feel yourself blushing all over your body. You use your napkin to wipe your lips, but you’re really using it to protect your face. It was so obvious what his words did to you, that’s probably why he said them. Suddenly, the room feels a little too hot, even just in your dress. “Took me a while to find out what to wear.”

“You could have worn a garbage bag and still looked great,” Peter says, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Oh, stop it. You’re such a charmer. What’s your game? What do you want?” Your words are playful, but the look in Peter’s eye seems more serious. More powerful and heated. Eyes you haven’t seen for a long time in another person, and it freezes you still. The only thing that’s countering the lust circling his irises is the uprising smirk on his lips.

“To take you home.”

Boy, was he a charmer.

“Don’t ask if I’m kidding because I’m not,” he adds, setting down his napkin on the table. He leans over, a curl falling onto his forehead. A hand reaches halfway across the white cloth and rests delicately on your hand. Even his touch was warm and soft, not forceful in any way. “If you want, I’d like to.”

“I…” You were speechless. You knew what your answer would be, but you were just starstruck. How can one person be so gentlemanly yet hot? Cocky yet so sweet? God really didn’t give anyone a chance when making Peter. “Yes, I would like that a lot.”

Your thumb rubs reassuring circles on his thumb while you smile like a fool. Peter’s smirk only got bigger as the night went on.

–

You talked. You laughed. You smiled.

But as he drove you to his house, you got nervous again. Maybe you guys would do something as normal as watch a movie. Maybe even cuddle a bit. But you really, really hoped it was more. Especially after your first meeting, you knew Peter wasn’t too shy about sexual matters. However, maybe he didn’t want to do that with you yet and just wanted to take things slow.

But his office…

When his hand was on yours on the table, your memory was brought back right to the moment of his fingers inside of you in the chair. You remembered the feeling of him pushing his digit in and out repeatedly and how good it felt when he removed his latex gloves. Your core rumbled with lust, getting off on the mere fantasy of it all.

When you arrive at his house, you both silently get out of the car. Besides the sound of nature, you could only hear your racing heart and how it was racking against your ribcage in intense beats. He unlocks his door, keying jingling while the breeze flows past. You’re hyper-aware of every noise as if Peter could hear your choppy breath. When he finally opens the door, he lets you in first and you smile, trying to not let your obvious nerves surface.

But you clearly fail when he points it out.

“What are you thinkin’ about?” Your eyes lock on his hands as he rests his key on his door side table and feet as he casually slips off his dress shoes. Everything about him was mesmerizing. You swear you could just watch a documentary of a regular day in his life and you could be starry-eyed.

“Bunch of things.” But it was really just one thing.

“Care to share?” Peter shifts to the kitchen and you follow him like a helpless dog, clutching your bag for dear life.

“I keep thinking about…the last time we were together,” the words fall from your mouth as you round the counter. You felt like you needed to create some distance between you two if you were going to admit something like that.

“What about it?” Peter’s knack to ask questions right now is making your face burn from embarrassment under his bright kitchen lights. He grabs two glasses and fills them up with fridge water without even asking if you wanted some.

“You know, the fun part,” You round the counter to reach the water, slowly taking a sip. When you set the glass down, your eyes don’t leave his chest. You’re too afraid to look into his eyes.

“I thought it was all pretty fun,” he says, placing down his own glass and taking one large step towards you “Especially the part where you came all over my hand.”

Your skin flames, eyes peering at him for a moment before dashing away. His finger slides beneath your chin to turn your face back to him. He could feel your radiating heat and could see the widening of your pupils under the luminous lights.

“Were you thinking of that?” His finger directs your chin upwards, forcing you to look at him. His voice was low and husky, only for you to hear. “Because I haven’t stopped since the day I walked out of that room.”

“Peter…”

“Just say the word, honey, and I’ll kiss you right now.”

You could just melt into a puddle on the floor of his kitchen. His words are so sensual, there is no way you could ever say no to this man. He’s irresistible without trying too hard.

“Please,” You mustered out seemingly breathless while your eyes were locked into his surely.

He doesn’t miss the beat. His head turns as his lips crash against yours. Your lower back hits the island of the counter of marble, but you don’t flinch. His lips electrocute yours, sending jolts of energy coursing through your body like a shock. Your hands naturally find his neat yet messy styled hair on his nape, fingers rummaging through the curly ends. One of his hands holds your waist down from moving as if he already knows you’re antsy to grind on him. His other caresses your jaw in a stable position, the type of dominance you’ve been craving since that day in his office.

His hand goes underneath your thigh, leading you to wrapping your legs around his waist. You thought he was going to sit you on the counter, but he walked all the way to a bedroom without breaking the kiss.

Peter gently lays you on the bed, causing you to depart from the kiss. He wordlessly goes to unbutton his shirt, but you quickly sit up to do it. You’ve been thinking about doing it since he picked you up, so it only seems right that your fantasy comes true, right?

Just like you imagined, you slowly flicked off the buttons and delicately removed the fabric until it was a bundle of cloth on the floor. On the edge of the bed on your knees, you stare up at Peter with a lustful glint in your eye. That glowy look caused Peter to kiss you again, hungrier than before. His force makes you fall onto the mattress again, making you gasp. He trails down your neck in sloppy kisses, touching every inch of your neck and chest with his lips.

“Where did you get this dress?” You didn’t expect him to ask you that while he was groping your breasts through the material. You moan at the feeling of his rough thumbs on your nipples. It’s very distracting while you try to remember where you got the dress that is currently in the way.

“Um Zara? I-I don’t remember,” You moan loudly, not having time to conceal it as he suckles a mark on your neck.

“Do you like it?”

“What?”

“The dress.”

“S-Sure, yeah. It’s-It’s not my favorite, though,” His tousled hair tickles your face as he gets closer to your boobs.

“Maybe you should have worn a garbage bag.”

“Why?” You pull back a little, moving his head up so you can see his face. You thought maybe you would see some expression of disgust, but he only has pure enjoyment. His soft smile turns into a smirk that you’re growing really fond of. It means he’s about to do something hot.

“Because then I wouldn’t feel so bad about ripping it off of you.”

Just like that, the thin straps are easily snapped from his large hands while he yanks the long dress down your body and onto the floor. His mouth instantly went onto your nipple, sucking until he was satisfied with the raw peak of it. He repeated the same movement the opposite one until you were a panting mess, huffing and puffing from just his mouth on your chest.

You can tell he knows how to do this. Yes, he works in gynecology so it’s a benefit that he knows the female body inside and out. But he’s actually skilled in his technique. Although he is hungry and nearly primal, he takes his time with certain areas, making your body want him more and more each time. It’s incredibly smart, and you’re wondering why every man doesn’t know how to properly treat a woman.

You don’t even know your body the way he seems to know it.

His mouth is at your panties before you could even process it. Right when you think he’s about to widen your legs like you so desperately want him to, he stops when his hands rest on your knees gently. He had been going at a fast pace, but now, he’s slow and controlled. Taunting in a way. Torturing.

“I’m going to remove these now, yeah?” He knows you want it now because he has you in his bed right where you want to be. His tone is not as shy as it had been in the office. It’s more controlling yet still soft. “Words, Y/N.”

That demand was all too similar to his words back in the chair with his hands on your waist. He was about to pull off your underwear then for professional reasons, and now, he’s going to yank them off for selfish ones.

“Please take them off,” Just like you had then, you clenched around nothing. Just his sensual words that make you spiral into horny oblivion. Your wavering tone makes him smile as he tugs down the thin material from your legs, tossing them somewhere in the room.

Then he finally widens your legs, facing your aching pussy that hasn’t forgotten about him since all those weeks ago. You were throbbing and leaking to the damn bed sheets, but you couldn’t give a fuck less. You wanted his fingers, his mouth, his cock–anything that he was willing to give you.

“That day,” he starts, “I really wanted to taste you. You were dripping all over my fingers. It was so hard to stay professional.”

He leans down and gets really close to your cunt, inches away from doing what he really wants to do.

“You’ll let me taste you, right?” he asks in an innocent kind of way, but there’s hints of taunt in there. It makes your core burn, and you almost moan at the way his breath hits your center.

“Yes, please. Do whatever you want,” You say that because it’s true–he can do whatever he wants to you, and you would be grateful.

“So polite. So eager,” he kisses your thigh, dangerously close to you now, “And so, so wet.”

“Peter, please,” You were begging now, but you didn’t care. You would beg all night for Peter to touch you the way he did in his office. You’ve tried to replicate it, but it’s no use. You’ve been craving that feeling for weeks now, and he seems to be the only one who can get you there.

“So polite. Good girl.”

To your luck, he doesn’t say another word. He finally puts his mouth on your pussy by slurping up all of your juices. You immediately moan, just by the mere knowledge that his mouth is on you. His tongue slips through your folds all the way up to your clit. Peter suckles on it, feeling it throb in his mouth.

“Taste even better than I imagined,” You don’t know if his whispered words were meant to be heard by you, but you heard them. They caused you to clench right as his tongue slotted inside of you, desperate to taste more of you.

His large hands are pressed against the insides of your thighs, forcing you to stay spread for him. You can feel them ache, but nothing feels as prominent as his tongue inside of you. And then, just when it starts to feel good, he makes it feel even better. One of his digits finds your clit, circling pressure until you’re a moaning mess.

“Fuck, Peter. That’s… so good.”

His mouth pops off of you for a second to catch a breath. But he could honestly drown in the taste of you. He smoothly slides a finger to replace where his mouth was, filling you up just like in his office. Now, his mouth is sucking on your clit, needing to make it throb. You feel that feeling you’ve been chasing for the past few weeks building up in your stomach, and you know it’s not going to be long at all until you achieve it.

“Come. Show me what only I can make you do,” Peter grumbles, his words cascading over your body. The deep rumble of his voice tips you over the edge, causing you to come all over his fingers again. After cleaning up some of your orgasm, he lifts his mouth, but doesn’t remove his fingers. He continues to pump them in and out, even though you’re sensitive.

“So fuckin’ tight, and I haven’t even given you a second finger,” one of his fingers taps of your clit, causing you to gasp at how sensitive you are. “Can you give me another?”

“A-Another one?” You’re panting and sweating from just one, but he wants to give you another? Who is this man, and where has he been all your life? “I can’t.”

“Oh, but you can. The body is an amazing thing,” he inserts another finger into your cunt and increases his intensity on your nerves. You gasp again, moaning without caring how loud you are. “See, your clit makes you do that. And I love that.”

“Oh, Peter,” You helplessly whimpered. As he thrusts his fingers inside of you with that charming smile and a hint of a smirk, you already feel your high approaching you again. The sight and the feel of him was just too overwhelming. With each thrust of his fingers, his arms bulged, forearm veins popping deliciously. He was a sight for sore eyes.

“C’mon, baby. Give me another. Want to feel you clench around my fingers. Imagine it’s my cock. Imagine how big my cock is going to feel in your little, tight cunt.”

His words oozed sex. So it only made sense that you came not long after. Your release coated his skilled hand once again, and this time, he seemed satisfied with your two orgasms.

When you could finally catch your breath, you didn’t see him reaching for his belt like most men do. But you really, really wanted him to reach for his belt.

“Are you tired? How do you feel?” The tone in his voice was soft. He was easily able to change from sex Peter to caring Peter. Your heart melted at his concern.

“Tired, but good tired. I’ve only ever had three orgasms, and you just gave me two of them,” You laughed breathlessly while he chuckled. “Would I be selfish to ask for more?”

That made him laugh. It was wholehearted and deep, echoing throughout the room. “Not at all.”

And then he reaches for his belt. You feel your organs twist in that lustful, horny way that they do when he does anything. When all his clothes are discarded and you’re faced with his raging cock, you’re practically drooling. He was right when he said he was big; thick and veiny all along the sides. It seemed unfair, really.

He reaches over to the nightstand and grabs a condom, ripping it and rolling it on easily. You continue to watch him in awe as he strokes himself a few times over the condom. Truth be told, he’s already incredibly hard. The second he slips inside of you he fears he will come on the spot because of how tight you are.

But he leans over your body, elbows holding himself up. You can smell his fresh scent, full of pine and wood.

“Did I tell you you look beautiful tonight?” he whispers next to your ear, his warm breath hitting your skin, which gives you the shivers. Your hands trail up over his body until they’re resting on his broad shoulders. You can feel his tensed muscles working to hold him up right, even though it looks like an effortless task to him.

“Oh shush. But thank you,” His comment makes your face warm, like a candle right next to your cheek.

“You look especially pretty under me,” his cock brushes your cunt, sliding delicately through the folds. You’re not shy of gasping, trying to mentally prepare yourself for his impeccable size.

When he finally pushes the head in, you take a deep breath and release it in a small whimper. You know you’re tight because you haven’t been with anyone in a few weeks. The most you’ve taken are Peter’s fingers, which are nothing compared to his cock.

He waits a few moments before moving again, giving you time to adjust. But you don’t think you’ll ever be able to fully settle with his size. It seems like he’ll always be stretching you out, no matter how many times you take him.

“Breathe, baby,” his words are breathy and wavering, but so sweet. The small nickname gives you the butterflies you haven’t felt for a while. Not the nervous butterflies, but that tingling, excited feeling of fondness. It’s one of your favorite feelings, and you’re so glad Peter gives you them.

You listen to him, taking deep breaths. He takes the opportunity to push himself a bit further until he’s fully inside of you. He stays still, looking at your face as you grow more comfortable. He watches as your expression contorts into desperation, which is what he’s been waiting for.

“You’re so tight, honey. But you’re taking all of me. Knew you could,” Peter reassures you, even as you clench snuggly around him. It’s embarrassingly hard for him to stay still, given how warm you feel wrapping him.

“Please move. Fuck, I need to feel you.”

Slowly, Peter removes himself and then slots in again. You remember to breathe as his movements become less languid and more fluidly quick. Soon, his thrusts have a bit of speed, causing you to scratch his shoulders at the intensity.

“You’re so big… so deep,” Your moan bounces off the walls of the room, making Peter smirk as he continues to move. His cock pins your hips, shutting down your squirming.

“No one’s ever fucked you like this? Never been this good, baby?” A small huff of his breath hit your skin and you were awed. His words alone could get you off, and then he’s pumping himself perfecting inside of you too, just making you go insane. He knows where all the right spots are, lifting up one of your legs with ease to get a better angle. You love that you can just let him take over you without having to work for your orgasm like you’re used to. You’re used to being on top, but it’s evident that Peter just wants to take care of you. He wants you to be satisfied for once, and you’ve never felt so seen. You’ve never felt so… good.

“Y-You’re the only one,” You sigh as you bite your lip, loving the way he's speaking to you. He’s all sultry in tone and even sexier with his words. You believe he has no flaws that are worth noticing.

“S’right. I’m the only one who can make you feel this good. You can only take my cock like this, deep in your cunt,” All you can do is moan and shake as you feel your next orgasm approaching.

Just when you go to reach down to your clit to push yourself even further, he reads your mind and does it for you. His thick finger circles the throbbing bud until you’re arching your back. Your fingers play with the pebbled nipples on your chest as your insides grow more tight. You haven’t had an orgasm feel this intense yet, so it’s hard to anticipate the feeling.

“Gonna come, baby? Come all over my cock, I need to see it. Need to know I’m the only one who can make you feel this way.”

With one entire pump inside of you, you’re coming over Peter’s cock and showing him that he’s the only one. All you can see is his charming, fatigued smile surrounded by stars. His brown hair is tousled and a dash of sweat is above his eyebrows, but God, he’s never looked so fucking hot.

It’s not long after that he’s coming after you, his release filling the condom completely. Peter was trying his best to hold himself for as long as possible. But with you, he discovered it was very difficult. Like he thought, the second he was inside of you, he could’ve come. You’re so slick and warm, just so alluring.

He gets up from the bed to discard the condom in done trash while you lay there in naked awe. You already know that you’re going to be sore tomorrow like the day after the gym.

As Peter comes back, he has a wipe that he uses to clean you up.

“What are you doing?” You ask before he starts to wipe you.

“Cleaning you up. You know, like aftercare. You can go to the bathroom and even take a bath if you’d like,” Peter answers while you sit straight up dumbfounded. “May I?”

“Yeah, yeah go ahead,” You allow him to soothingly clean you while you just accept it. Your mind is still whirling with confusion. Are all guys supposed to do this? Or is he really just that great? “Thank you. I… No one’s ever done that before.”

“Really? God, you were really with some twats, Y/N,” he shakes his head and walks back to the bathroom while you chuckle. It’s funny that you had to go through those two guys in order to get to Peter. Third time’s the charm. “Want to take a bath?”

You ponder for a second. You were tired, but not like you would drown in the tub. Maybe if you had better stamina you would ask Peter to join you, but for now, maybe you just need to sit and think about what’s happening alone. Peter is too good to be true. He’s such a gentleman, he never misses a beat. You hope you’re not overstepping by accepting.

“Can I? Or is it too much—”

“Nonsense, I want you to be comfortable. Now, do you like the right or left side of the bed?” You stare at him in confusion. One, because that was a random question. And two, because when did he put on boxers?

“What?”

“Which side do you sleep on?” You felt your cheeks burn for some reason, and then you realize you’re still naked while he’s semi-dressed.

“Um right, I think. Why?”

“So you can sleep there. You are staying, aren’t you?” Peter’s cheeks tint rosy red, that peek of nervousness shining through. It made you smile because even if he seems too good to be true, there is a little human in there who’s just like you.

“Yes, of course,” You can visibly see his tenseness fade as a small smile grows on his lips.

“I’ll start the bath then get you some clothes then, or else you’ll keep me hard all night.”

Your skin burns, but you feel like that’s not the last time that will happen to you. Not with Peter. No, you know.

—

thank you all for being patient!! i also think this is the longest taglist i’ve ever had, so thank you again!! 💞

taglist:

-> @motheroffae @noa217 @nelly-belly97 @spidermanffh3000 @httpscomexe @mysticdaisy21 @emilyparkerholland @deathst9r @ellenita98 @ellabellabus07 @mrstealuregirl @bisexual-desi @sherlockstrangewolf @madsttx @graywrites20 @bradtomlovesya @princesspannnn @sageisswaggg @purplerose291 @girlbossnancy @lockwood-lover @marzipaanz @eatshitanddiee @invisibletrolleyson-jeremy @lnmp89 @crybabyddl @pretty-npeach @marine-mayday @aerangi @justanotherpasserby-blog @tinafuentes @moniffazictress11 @eywaheardyou @alwaysclassyeagle @raajali3 @likeapplejuicenpeach @winuvs

crossed out= not able to tag

#shawnstyles #tom holland #peter parker #tom holland smut #peter parker smut #tom holland x you #peter parker x you #tom holland x reader #peter parker x reader #tom holland fan fics #peter parker fan fics #tom holland fan fiction #peter parker fan fiction

[sadslay]

- INVISIBLE ⋆☆ 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐨𝐜 ⋆☆ PART ONE

↳ 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

"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.

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.

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.

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?

master list

part two

#peter parker mcu #marvel cinematic universe #peter parker #spider man #spider man mcu #peter parker x reader #avengers #tom holland #peter parker smut #peter parker fluff #peter parker fan fiction #fan fic author #fan fiction #ao3 #spiderman homecoming #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #iron man #tony stark #spiderman civil war #tom holland x reader

[rorywright]

Does anyone know what happened to that peter parker (tom holland) smut series? I think it was called 'basic training' ???

#tom holland #peter parker #avengersmut #tom holland smut #peter parker smut #the avengers #tony stark #aunt may #smut #fan fiction #superhero

[marvelgirlstories]

Masterlist

George Weasley

Stucky

Tom Holland and Family

Harry Potter - nothing yet

Marvel

Marvel cast - nothing yet

Fic Recs

#marvel cast #the avengers #paddy holland #harry holland #sam holland #steve rogers #bucky barnes #george weasley #tom holland #stucky #masterlist #holland family #fan fiction #fanfics #oneshot #smut #fluff #angst

[fictionsbaby]

Hi everyone!

Okay so I need some requests on fan fiction to write.

Here’s who I write for for sure but if you give me anyone I’ll try:

Sherlock Holmes (from the BBC and Ebola Holmes)

Count Tewksbury

Seth Clearwater

Jasper Whitlock Hale

Edward Cullen

Prince Caspian

Edmund Pevensie

Peter Pevensie

Peter Parker

Tom Holland

Neville Longbottom

Draco Malloy

Blaise Zamboni

Dean Thomas

Fred and George Weasley

Percy Weasley

Percy Jackson

Cedric Diggory

Bill Weasley

Tom Riddle

Mattheo Riddle

Regulus Black

Oliver Wood

Newt Scammander

Scorpius Malfoy

Pietro Maximoff

Bruce Wayne/Batman (2022)

Carlos De Vil

Harry Hook

King/Prince Ben

Diego Hargreeves

Zuko

The Darkling

Kazz Brekker

Hermes (A Touch of Darkness)

Hades (A Touch of Darkness)

Clark kent (specifically any one that’s animated lol)

——————————————————————————

I do write smut if you want

Um so yeah. Let me know if you have any requests and I’ll do my best to write them:)

But I prefer to do fem reader, cause that’s what I just typically do, but I also do gender neutral and I’m willing to try male reader in the future

#Sherlock Holmes x reader #twilight #harry potter #Henry Sherlock Holmes #seth clearwater x reader #Jasper hale x reader #Edward Cullen x reader #prince caspian x reader #edmund pevensie x reader #peter pevensie x reader #tom peter parker #Tom Peter Parker x reader #Peter Parker x reader #neville longbotton x reader #smut #draco malfoy x reader #blaise zabini x reader #descendants #a touch of darkness #chronicles of narnia #the batman 2022 #six of crows #shadow and bone #umbrella academy #avatar the last airbender

[xtom-darling-x17]

Sweeter than sweet @spideysbae

I hope you enjoy this mood-board inspired by your Smut 18+ fiction, that imagine was really good! If you have not read their smut fan fiction of Tom Holland then go check it out! Wish you the best 🥰

Full Control

#tom holland x reader #tom holland #tom holland au #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland x you #tom holland fandom #answered #request #moodboard #bathtub #happy birthday #kisses #love #travel

[thealleydog]

TL,DR at the bottom. I'm gonna talk alot.

🎆✨️ And with that, the 2022 season has come to an end. What do I say about that? ✨️🎆

Life's wild, ain't it? This time last year, I had covid. Had to quarantine for two weeks in my apartment and settle for watching the distant fireworks throughout the neighborhood from my living room window.

It was the beginning of many things. I took the two weeks to try to be more than a human whose whole personality was working all the time. I started to learn how to cook. I began to practice yoga. I watched a LOT of YouTube video essays.

Shortly before I got covid, I was trying to watch all the relevant Marvel movies and shows to see No Way Home in theaters. Depression really liked to eat my memories and keep me from watching any of the Tom Holland Spider-Man movies. Which broke my heart because Spider-Man was my first and favorite Marvel character for the majority of my life. I'd never seen Doctor Strange (2016) before, and after six years, all I got out of it was my dilf fetish and comfort character, Doctor Stephen Strange. Armed with a new fictional boyfriend and time on my hands, I got back into ❤️‍🔥𝖋𝖆𝖓𝖋𝖎𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓❤️‍🔥.

Reacquainted myself with ao3 and eventually followed my favorite writers back here.

Tumblr. The Doctor Strange fanfiction community. The Benedict Cumberbatch fans. You guys truly make this place feel like a site I WANT to be on. How happy you are to interact with your readers. How you actively crave and encourage it. How you'll talk about your real-life problems and stresses. How you remind me every day this site is horny jail, and we love that for us. People like @wint3r-h3art and @dino-fart have become people I enjoy seeing a message from.

Its been said before, but fuck it. Reading your writings has been a spot of brightness in my life. A breath of fresh air after working inside a stuffy room all day. A candle you protect with your hand against the wind on your way to light a birthday cake. You people took a strictly completed works only, explicit rated smut reader and have me equally as happy reading about queer platonic dynamics with this old white man. Can't forget to shout out a little love for my Namor y Attuma homies, too. I want to sit on Attuma meaty thighs and be baby girl. 🎀

I'm very behind on a lot of stories from various people on here. But my goal is to catch up a little every night so I can enjoy all the hard work and love you guys pour into each one.

Most of my life, I felt limited. I didn't deserve love, kindness, boundaries, or space to express myself freely through my bedroom or clothes. Dad died of cancer when I was two, and I had an abusive stepfather until I was seventeen. I never traveled outside of Chicago or the Chicagoland area in general more than once every five or six years. I worked jobs since I was sixteen to struggle to pay to have some sort of life. I had some wack ass core beliefs about myself.

I'm currently in New York with a good friend of mine and fellow artist Claü. Her Instagram is @claudiarts because we support the people we love, goddammit. We celebrated the new year at a dive bar, eating grapes under the table so I can finally get some decent dick or pussy from a decent human this year. Maybe a real cool friend with benefits. Maybe a Splenda Pappy that I can work some unresolved issues out on his dick.

After that, I had a nice blackout that led to us losing half the next day and finally trying New York pizza.

New York is Chicago with organized chaos. Surprisingly, the people are not as mean as I was led to believe. It's like how everyone talks about all the gun violence in Chicago. Meanwhile, Peoria, IL, is sitting in the corner hoping nobody notices it. Everyone looks so fashionable. The food is mouth-watering. The architecture is spectacular. This place is ALIVE. It makes me want to travel even more. Become more cultured. Worldly.

Gotta make sure to go take a selfie in front of Doctor Strange's place.

I've been tattooing for a little over two years now. Managing it for a year and a half. It pays more than enough. I can afford insurance. I have an apartment by myself. My fridge is always full. I still sometimes can't believe I'm a real successful tattoo artist. I've debated posting my art and tattoos on here or linking my actual Instagram. I'm grateful every day I get to do my dream job.

I still daydream of affection and love. But, I have a small group of coworkers at the shop who I can truly call friends. I have male friends who actually like me as the perverted, all black wearing, tomboy who likes to draw dicks. They're some real ones. With the support system I'm building, I can eventually tackle dating dating. Just gotta keep working on myself and wait for the thumbs up from my therapist.

Unfortunately, a few minutes into the new year, my mom's apartment was part of the apartments in her building that got damaged by a fire. A fire started by a 90 something year old neighbor lady who never thought leaving a candle next to a Christmas tree was somehow a bad idea. So that leaves my mom, brother, and sister without a place to stay. Except now, they're sleeping over at my apartment, and I knew I should have put my dildo and Hitachi away before I left. Fuck my life, Bing bong. It be like that sometimes.

Anyways, I've been typing this for over an hour already. So Happy New Year, wishing everyone a better year than the last, and to never lose sight of who you are.

TL,DR: Happy New Year, Tumblr writers make the world a better place to be in, tattooing, Doctor Strange, I deserve things, and my mom's homeless.

#happy new year #long post #if it looks like a duck and sounds like a duck its just trauma dumping #but mostly good news #might be disjointed #made sense in my head #Spotify

[wannabemobwife]

I miss her too

Pairings: Dad!Tom Holland x reader

Summary: Your and Tom’s daughter comes home having made something at school, for you. She desires to share it with you any way possible.

Warnings: sad, typos, mentions of death

Word Count: 1.3K

A/n: I’m back. Hoping to start part 2 to Guns, Glamour and Goodfellas. This a short blurb or possible one shot, whatever you call it. Still new to this. Wrote this spur the moment. Flashbacks are in bold.

Tom made it a priority to have dinner every night with his daughter, Poppy. It was a tradition that you reinforced. One that Tom liked to keep around even after. You would cook all these elaborate meals And Tom tries to live up to your cooking skills but would ultimately fail and seek the help of Sam.

Tom set the table and served Poppy as she sat at table, swinging her legs back and forth. There, sat the 5 year old girl, across from Tom. He watched her as she fiddled with her fork, just rearranging the veggies on her plate, not bothering to eat.

“So love, how was daycare?” Tom inquired curbing as he watched his daughter fiddle with her fork, just rearranging the veggies on her plate, not bothering to eat.

“We made cards for mumma’s day,” Poppy explained all giddy inside.

“Mother’s day?” Tom asked, his mind drifting elsewhere. He couldn’t believe it was already May and it was the first one without you.

“Yes, mine has pretty flowers on it. Wanna see it?” Poppy grew excited she practically jumped out of her chair.

“Sure baby doll, you can show me after dinner,” Tom murmured, still caught up on the fact that it was almost 5 months since.

“I’ll go get it!”

“Poppy wait, wash your hands first, please.” Tom called out but knew Poppy would carry on just like before. That girl marched to the beat of her own drum but Tom indulged in every beat. She is the spitting image of you.

“Here, look I wrote something.” She said holding the card up in front of him. It was adorned with glitter and stickers. Pink construction paper, pink flowers and pink doodles. Pink was Poppy’s favorite color, everything was pink from her shoes to her hair bows.

“C’mere lovie, show me,” Tom whispered, pulling her into her lap. “Darling this is so beautiful. What did you write?”

“It says, happy mumma’s day mumma. I love you soooooo much. I miss you too, so does dadda. We miss you.” She said with her faint lisp.

Tom listened to his daughter struggle to get the words out. Focusing on her breathing as she sounded out most words. He tried to only focus on that. Not letting his mind to stray to place he has been avoiding for a few months.

Next week marks the time stamp of living 5 months without you. Without your smile in the morning. Without your laugh that was so infectious at the time it would make your newborn giggle til she was burdened with a case of the hiccups. Without your love.

Life grew darker and sadder, but Tom didn’t give himself the chance to grieve. Too busy worrying about the life you both brought into the world. The girl that lite up his life was his only priority. Everything changed when his beautiful and amazing family of three became a two.

Tom now rarely took jobs outside of London, wanting to stay close for Poppy. He felt guilty always leaving her with his parents all the time. No one really knows how kids at the age process a loss but he hoped Poppy would remember all the amazing moments of you.

Ones that held a special place in his heart were right after the sun had risen. Poppy’s wake up calls.

She did the same thing since he can remember. Always busting through the door in the morning. Jumping on t bed then begging for food. It was good thing you were a morning person.

One time when you were weaker than you had ever been, she jumped right on top of you.

“Mumma! Dadda! Wake up!” You were jolted out of sleep from a shock that rang through your fragile frame. You gasped at the sudden body slammed on top of yours.

“Poppy Marie Holland! What did we talk about being careful with mommy? Honey are you okay?” Tom shouted quietly.

“I’m ok, Tom. I really am,” you said breathlessly.

“I’m sorry Mumma, I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Poppy whispered.

“It’s ok baby, c’mere. So what did you dream about my flower,” you said, pulling her into your lap as you peppered kisses all over her face. Giggles erupted as you pressed a finger to her nose.

“Well I dreamt of…” Poppy would trail off to these fantastical dreams. It amazes you how she could think such imaginative scenes.

Every morning was like that. Different topics of conversation but always began with a dose of Poppy bright and early.

Even after everything. It was a grad adjust for her. One minute you were there and next you weren’t.

Tom’s nightly routine shifted. Every night he would go to sleep dreaming of you. Dreaming of the life you were supposed to share. And every morning he would wake up with tears in his eyes as he felt the empty side of the bed.

Desperately trying to bring himself back to the place with you in it. It was a gut punch every morning, always coming to the realization that you were gone.

However, like clockwork he is reminded of the one shining star in his life as she bursts into his room and hops on the bed. Jumping up and down to get him to wake up.

“Dadda, wake up. Wake up!” Poppy shouted as she waddled up to the bed, trying to climb on. Her nightgown was a little too big, but she wore it because you had.

“Daddy’s awake lovie. Just one second.” Tom jolted, brushing the wetness from his eyes.

“Come on, I want pancakes,” Poppy pleaded.

“Pancakes huh? Mommy’s specialty with Mnm’s inside?” Tom reminisced at all the mornings of breakfast together as a full family.

“Ya, can momma make them?” Poppy asked, it was hard for her to understand the events that just occurred. Tom wasn’t very good at explaining it either. The most he could muster up, is mommy’s not here anymore.

Leaving out the word “dead” or “passed away” was denying the truth from him as well. It was all too new and he didn’t know how he could accept it just yet.

“Lovie, we have talked about this remember? Mommy is not here anymore.”

“When will she be back? I miss her.”

“Umm, darling mommy is never coming back, remember baby. I told you mommy had to leave but wasn’t her choice. Lovie, I miss her too everyday,” Tom said, holding back tears.

“Dadda?” Spoke Poppy as she noticed the wet streaks across Tom’s face. Trying to bring attention back to her.

“Yes, baby.” Tom said, coming out of his trance. Tears riddled his face as he thought of all the stuff that Poppy will miss out on. More specially what you will never get to experience with her.

“Why are you sad Dadda? Did I make you sad?” Poppy asked, trying to comfort Tom the best way she knows how.

“Oh no darling. Not at all.”

“Are you sad because you miss mumma?” Poppy mumbled, her eyes getting stuck to the ground.

Tom just nodded and pressing soft kisses to her forehead. He could only hold back so many tears.

“I miss her too. You never go to the place anymore where you talk to her. I want to talk to her like you do,” Poppy pleaded.

“Lovie what place?”

“The one with the statues. You never take me anymore. We only went twice with nana. But no more,” Poppy said as she started to cry along with him.

“The cemetery?” Tom asked.

She nodded, sniffing away the tears. “Mumma misses us like we miss her. I don’t want her to think we forgot about her. I made the card because. I want to give her my card. Can we go?”

“Yes baby, I’ll take you. I promise you, you’ll never forget her. I even have videos I can show you later with her in them,” Tom explained.

“Dadda I love you,” Poppy said wrapping her hand around his neck.

“I love you too, my flower.”

Masterlist

A/n: sorry the ending sucked, endings are hard

#tom holland x y/n #tom holland fic #tom holland x reader #tom holland au #tom holland blurb #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland #tom holland masterlist #tom holland fan fiction smut

[shawnxstyles]

man-handled

DATE: DECEMBER 4, 2023

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

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

words: 5.1k

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

note: i’m so tired y’all

mafia!tom x reader

–

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

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

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

His arms.

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

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

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

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

“Always so greedy.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah? And what did you read?”

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

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

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

“S’not nice…”

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

“Come on. Let me fix you up. Please?”

Now, how could Tom ever say no to you?

–

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You. Only you.”

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

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

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

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

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

“S-so close. Fuck—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

taglist:

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

crossed out= not able to tag

#shawnxstyles #tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland fics #tom holland fan fiction #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #spiderman #spiderman x reader #spiderman fanfics #tom holland x y/n #tom holland one shot #tom holland fanfic

[twinkleimagines]

✨let me please you✨

Summary: Tom is overly stressed from all the interiews, and shooting of multiple different films. He’s so stressed that he’s losing interest in everything , even you. So you finally decide to show him what he’s been missing out on.

⭕️⚠️ language and smut included

GIF goes along with the story, it will be highlighted when to refer back to it! Enjoy ❤️

“ alright, yes sir.... yeah ... ok see you then” you heard Tom , your boyfriend of a year now say into the phone.

“ who was that babe?” You asked wrapping your arms around Toms waist from behind. You frowned when he pushed your arms away, walking towards the kitchen counter. “ what’s wrong ?” You asked following behind him. He turned around placing his hands down on the counter, lowering his head down.

“ it’s like they just don’t care” he stated shaking his head.

“ baby what’s wrong?” You asked now standing next to him. You reached your hand out rubbing against his back just for him to brush you off again.

“Stop” he said stepping away from you, his back turned away. “ I’m just so over it”. This time you stood still, looking at his back moving with each breath he took. “ it’s like my managers don’t care about my sleep they only care about the money. Everyday I got to do this and do that” he said turning back around towards you. He ran his hands through his hair, leaving them on the back of his head . “ I love my job but like .. fuck a lad could use a break.” You nodded slightly , letting him vent . “ and then I come home” he said, his hands dropping to his sides. “ I come home and I’m expected to make you happy when I can’t even be happy and I just feel like a relationship is just too much for me”. Even though you knew he was just pissed and letting off steam and honestly probably didn’t mean what he said, it sincerely hurt the fuck out of your feelings. You sighed heavily pressing your back against the counter. “ and now they want me to be up on a plane by 6 in the morning for another interview. It’s just crazy everyone wants so much from me”. He said. You could hear the frustration in the tone of his voice.

“ baby, I know you’re upset and you’re stressed” said walking close to him. “ but I never expected or asked you for anything” you stated, taking another step closer. He looked back at you, standing himself up with his back facing the wall. “ in fact the only thing I ask, is let me take some of the stress off of you”. At this point Toms eyebrows were furrowed together in confusion, he had absolutely no idea where you were going with this . You grinned slightly walking up against Tom, his back hitting the wall .

“Y/n, what are you doing?” He questioned nervously, watching as you took another step towards him. At this point you were so close your breasts were pressed against his chest.

“ I want you-“ you said grabbing onto his belt buckle”- to let me please you”. Tom stood still, but you could hear his heart beat pounding anxiously. Tom was always the dominant one during sex. You being in control was something very new , and exciting to Tom. You never lost eye contact as you slowly got down on your knees, your face in line with his crotch. You tugged slightly on his jeans before they made it down to his ankles, along with his boxers. His members was already sticking straight up, his veins pulsing on the sides.

You grabbed his now rock hard cock, slowly pumping up and down as he stared down at you. After a few seconds of pumping up and down with your hand, you spit on his tip, rubbing it around his whole member before wrapping your lips around him. You had lowered your head only halfway down a few times before you felt his hand on the back of your head, attempting to push you down further. You immediately smacked his hand away, letting his cock pop back out of your mouth.

“ no touching. “ you stated looking up at him. He smirked some taking a deep breath before throwing his hands up in defense. After looking back down, you placed his member back in your mouth , but this time only the tip , swirling your tongue around it. When you felt him twitch in your mouth you immediately forced your head all the way down, your forehead now touching the bottom of his stomach. Tom gasped loudly almost losing his breath, being a hand up , tempted to reach down and hold your head. ( refer to gif)

“ god” he moaned out , swallowing hard. You had never deep throated him before . It was something new for you obviously and painful but at the same time your only goal here tonight was to please Tom so much that the thought of leaving you would never cross his mind again. Your hands were placed against his hips, pulling him towards you each time while you pushed your head down. He moaned out each time he felt your throat clench around him from gagging, trying your best not to throw up.

“ love.. I’m gonna cum” Tom groaned out, laying his head back against the wall closing his eyes, his hands behind his back to avoid touching you. You quickly removed your mouth from his cock, looking up at him. “W-why’d you stop?” He breathed out, looking down at the tip of his cock only centimeters away from your bottom lip. You shrugged smirking at him.

“ I’m in control” you stated, getting up off your knees. You pulled yourself up close to him , biting and tugging on his bottom lip before backing away from him. “ you’ll cum when I say so” you demanded as you slowly took your clothes off. “ take your shirt off” you said said as you stood in front of him , completely naked. He stood for a second, trying to wrap his head around this new side of you that he had never seen. Is was the biggest turn on ever of course but still, new. You watched him quickly pull his shirt over his head, then stepping out of his boxers and jeans. You looked him up and down, his muscles so perfectly toned while his member stood straight out. You slowly stepped forward again, pressing yourself against him. His cock pressed against your slit between your thighs. You started kissing and nibbling on his neck, your hands pressed up against his chest.

“ love, please” he pleaded , his member twitching Simultaneously. You knew exactly what he wanted. He wanted to be inside you at this point . You grinned before walking over to the dining room, sliding one of the chairs out.

“ sit” you demanded standing next to it. Tom hesitated for a second before sitting down, looking up at you for the next demand. You turned yourself around, your back facing him while you looked over your shoulder at him. You reached behind you grabbing ahold of his cock, slowly sliding yourself down on him. His hands immediately went to your hips as you grinded against him.

You could feel Toms warm breath against your back as he breathed heavily with each thrusting move you did, his member sliding in and out of you. You placed your hands on his knees, arching your back while you bounced against him. Toms hands roamed every inch of you until they landed on your breast, squeezing tightly.

“ cum in me baby” you said looking over your should at Tom. He was looking down , groaning as he watched your ass bouncing on top of him, watching as his member slid in and out of you over and over at a fast pace.

“ fuck y/n !” He yelled out , squeezing tightly against you as you lowered yourself back down , grinding your hips once again. You grinned as you stared at him, his mouth open and eyebrows furrowed together as he climaxed.

“ wow” he sighed out, lowering his head down on your back. You chuckled reaching your hand back, running your fingers through his hair.

“ I’m sorry for what I said” he said looking up at you. You could feel his member going soft and his breathing calming down. “ I’ve just been so stressed and mad that I took it out on you and you didn’t deserve any of that” he stated, squeezing his arms around you tightly.

“ I know baby” you said before kissing his lips. “ I’m tired though, you wanna move this to the bed? We can cuddle and watch a movie “ you suggested leaning your head against his shoulder.

“ yes darling” he said before giving you a quick peck on the lips. You both made it into the room, you quickly going to the restroom to clean yourself up. By the time you had gotten back to the room Tom was already laying in the bed under the covers , presumably naked.

“ Tom baby if you ever get to the point where everything feels overwhelming, don’t be afraid to talk to me about it . I don’t ever want you to feel like you’re in this alone” you said laying your head down on his chest.

“ oh darling after tonight- I won’t hesitate to come to you for some stress relief” you laughed loudly before teasingly slapping his abs.

“ I’m glad you enjoyed it” you said snuggling up against him.

“ I love you Y/n” Tom said , running his hand against the top of your head. You yawned loudly , closing to it eyes.

“ I love you More Tom”

*** hope you guys enjoyed 💜 and feel free to give me some feedback or ideas in that matter! Don’t be ashamed, I’m here to write for you guys !

#tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland smut #smut #tom holland fan fiction smut #tom holland imagine #tom holland imagines #Tom Holland imagine smut #Tom Holland masterlist imagine

[2-fast-2-curious]

NSFW Alphabet for Spider-Man/Peter Parker

AN: Had TASM!Peter Parker in mind for these but y’all know how much I love Tom

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

The cuddliest boy, gives you smooches while you play with his hair. Carries you to the bathroom and makes you a snack while you do whatever you need to do.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His favourite part of you is your breasts because it’s where you’re heart is. His spidey-sense does allow him to hear your heartbeat normally but when he’s right up against you it’s incredibly soothing. IDK what to say he just loves them. Loves squeezing, licking, and biting them. They’re so soft and lovely, when he comes home from a cold evening patrol, nothing feels better than warming his face on your chest. Of course, inevitably his mouth starts feeling too empty so it doesn’t take long for your tits to end up in his mouth and he might just fall asleep like that.

His favourite part of himself is his arms because that’s what he uses to hold himself up when he’s on top of you. He sees the hungry way you look at him when he pulls himself up onto a building. He loves how his arms allow you to hold you and keep you safe and close to him. One of his favourite ways to wake up is having you tracing patterns in his arms.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

The spider bite didn’t impact the amount, texture, or taste of his cum. We’ll just into this more during stamina but he’s got an almost non-existent refractory period and can fill you up with him cum again as many times as you’ll let him. Peter loves seeing his cum on you, on your back, face or tits and even though it can be messier he doesn’t mind helping you clean it up.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Okay so Peter thinks it would be hot to rescue you, kill/incapacitate the villain and then take you against the wall while they’re still laying there. Sorry this is very unhinged of me.

But yeah Peter’s adrenaline would be all amped up from fighting the villain and winning, He sees you tied up in the corner of the abandoned warehouse and doesn’t bother taking off the restraints before undressing the necessary parts and having sex with you. He’s rougher than usual but still tells you how happy he is he was able to save you and tells you to moan extra loud so everyone can hear how good he fucks you.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s a studious boy so he knows things and even has had some practical experience but not a ton. Of course, each partner is different so Peter makes sure to learn all the things you like and don’t and some might say his heightened intuition helps with that too.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Peter’s pretty tame, he likes missionary. He likes how he’s able to kiss you and look into your eyes as he gives you pleasure, loves how much skin to skin contact there is, loves how he can give you a particularly hard thrust he can feel your hard nipples grazing his chest.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Peter is a comedy of errors but this never kills the mood. He’s goofy and is sure to make you giggle.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

With everything going on in Peter’s life he doesn’t really have time to manscape that much. He does keep everything tamed so it’s comfortable for you when you’re down there.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Peter is pretty romantic. He makes sure to always let you know how much you mean to him. On special occasions he’ll light candles and buy flowers.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Peter is stressed the eff out all the time and nothing eases his mind better than an orgasm. But he needs this so often that he feels bad for bothering you with this.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Peter loves photos. Nothing brightens his spirits like getting a new one of you. It can something cute like your face or something dirty like photos of you waiting for him with your new lingerie on. When he has time he loves taking out his phone and going through ones that he’s taken of you and yes he has a private folder of ones that are more x-rated.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Outdoors with a killer view of the city. I mean Peter did say his favourite place to think was the Empire State Building so just imagine him taking you up to the observation deck when it’s closed to the public and pressing you against one of those glass panels as he takes you from behind. Whispering all that good stuff in your ear about how hot it is you’re letting the whole city see what a slut you are for Spider-man.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Honestly, anything you do. You could be sticking your tongue out while your read or licking your fingers after finishing a sandwich and Peter’s ready to take you right there on the couch.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

I can’t see Peter using a knife to cut you. Like blood when you menstruate, totally A-OK, if you wanna fuck before he’s had a chance to clean up the blood after fighting some bad guys that’s totally fine too. But he would have a hard time deriving pleasure from hurting you with a knife to the point where you bleed.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Peter prefers to give because he knows he puts you through a lot. He enjoys having his face between your thighs more than he wanted to admit plus when he’s super sensitive he can get off by just grinding himself into the mattress while he eats you out. Peter’s very eager and a bit sloppy so his technique could use some work but he’ll be down there as long as it takes you to cum.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Peter’s fast and at that speed sometimes he can be a bit more forceful than he means to be.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Quickies are frequent in your relationship. The morning before you have to go to work, if you come home from work for lunch, then again when you come back from work, and before Peter goes out on patrol. Peter feels bad about how often they happen but he always gets you off pretty quickly that you never have any complaints.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Peter’s a modern boy and very open-minded. He’ll be down to try anything with you but most of the time he’s the one suggesting new positions or places for the two of you to have sex.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

You’re going to need any help you can get, he lasts a long time like five or more rounds is the norm when non-quickie sex.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He doesn’t own any but he probably should considering his sex drive. He might have seen some Spider-man themed sex toys and bought them as a joke. But one picture of you using that red and blue dildo on yourself and it’s more than proved its worth.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

When Peter has the time he loves to get you to the point of begging. But running on minimal sleep and being pretty exhausted sometimes he just wants to cut the chase.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Peter’s quiet, he’ll moan and grunt but he loves to make you get loud to the point where your neighbours complain and Peter loves answering these angry knocks on the door post-sex almost like a badge of honour.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Peter loves it when you take charge he thinks it would be hot if you roleplayed as a super villain who lures Spider-man to an undisclosed location seduces him as part of your plan for world domination.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He’s average length and width. His cock is leans to the right to hook inside you just right and has a nice amount of prominent veins for you to feel every ridge when he’s inside you. You could get off just by grinding yourself on his hard cock.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Ridiculously high.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Peter likes to fuck you to the point of exhaustion and at that point, he’ll be out like a light in five minutes or less.

#peter parker smut #peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker blurb #spiderman #spider-man x reader #spider-man smut #andrew garfield x reader #andrew garfield smut #tom holland x reader #tom holland smut #spider-man no way home #andrew garfield #tom holland #peter parker fan fiction #spider-man fan fiction #spiderman smut #marvel #mcu #one shot #imagine #blurb #smut

[cherrycheridarling]

tic-tac-toe | mcu

marvel cast x actress!reader

warnings: one swear, fluff, no plot

summary: you play aphrodite in the MCU and it's time for the press conference for infinity war. based off of this press conference

wc: 2.7k

"Tom Hiddleston!" Jeff Goldblum introduced the man who was sitting on your right.

Everyone applauded before Jeff moved onto you, "Y/N Y/L/N!" more applause rang through the room.

"Sebastian Stan!" you looked to your left where Sebastian waved to the crowd as you clapped with everyone else.

"Anthony Mackie!"

After Jeff finished with the introductions, he explained how the panel would work. He would pull a ping pong ball out of a container and it would either have a name or category. The audience would be able to ask a question to that person or a person in that category after Jeff called on them.

As he pulled RDJ's name out of the container, Tom leaned over towards you.

"Does your water taste funny, too?" he whispered making you stifle a laugh.

You nodded, "Kind of like lemon, right?"

He shook his head, "Mine tastes like mint. Can I taste yours?" he held his hand out as you passed him your water bottle. He took a sip and spent a moment analyzing the taste, "Yours does taste like lemon! Why does mine taste different? Here." he passed you his water.

You took a sip and were hit with a strong mint flavour, "Woah. I think they're trying to drug you." you joked making him laugh.

"As I am answering this question, Tom Hiddleston and Y/N Y/L/N are discussing the flavours of the water behind me." Robert exposed you and Tom to the audience making the room burst out into laughter.

"They have fancy water. Mint and lemon." Tom spoke into a mic drawing more laughs. "Sorry. Carry on!"

As Jeff pulled the next name, you adjusted your dress. A white, long sleeve, blazer dress with gold buttons down the middle, the dress ended mid-thigh. The v-neck cut showcased your subtle gold necklace. Black stiletto heels covered your feet.

You unconsciously began bouncing your leg up and down in a fast motion. Sebastian placed a hand on your thigh, stopping your movements, "You're gonna drill a hole through the floor, Y/L/N." he chuckled.

"Sorry." you laughed quietly.

Sebastian pulled out a notepad and pen, "You need a distraction. Tic-tac-toe?" he offered.

You smiled with a nod before making your move.

"You absolutely suck at this." you chuckled as you won the third game in a row.

Sebastian scoffed, "You can't suck at tic-tac-toe."

"And yet, you do." you smirked.

He rolled his eyes playfully before you continued playing.

After two more rounds, your attention was back on Jeff as he pulled a new ping pong ball. "Ooh! You can ask a God or Goddess." Jeff announced, "So, Tom Hiddleston, Chris Hemsworth or Y/N Y/L/N." he reminded the crowd, "Okay, yes, you!" he picked a woman in the front row.

"Hi, I'm Alexis with Forbes. My question is for Y/N." the room applauded as Jeff tossed the ping pong ball at you and you caught it with one hand.

"See, Robert! It's not that hard!" Jeff exclaimed making everyone laugh.

"Screw off, Goldblum! You chucked that shit at my head." Robert joked back. "Sorry, Alexis, go ahead."

"Um, I wanted to ask about Aphrodite's powers. We all know that she is the Goddess of Love and can seduce anyone with her beauty. We see in the trailer a small clip of her seducing men. How many people did you seduce in the film and were there any funny moments filming those scenes that you can share?"

Her question drew a mix of reactions from the cast. Some laughed, some furrowed their eyebrows and others were just confused. You took in the question before opening your mouth to reply, until you remembered that you weren't wearing a body mic. The cast laughed again before Sebastian passed you a mic.

"Sorry. Um, how many people did I seduce in the film? None." you stated drawing more laughs, "How many people did Aphrodite seduce? All of them." you chuckled, "I'm kidding. Although, I'm not sure what I can share because I don't know what's in the trailer." you confessed, "Kevin, Joe, Anthony, what's in the trailer?" you asked them making everyone laugh again.

Kevin picked up a mic, "I believe it's you seducing Spider-Man, Starlord, Drax and Iron Man."

You nodded, "I do have a funny moment that I'm sure Mister Holland will kill me for sharing, but it's too good to not tell." you smiled thinking of the memory.

Tom immediately grabbed a mic, "You wouldn't!" he exclaimed making the audience and cast laugh.

"I would," you retorted, "We were shooting that scene and, as you know, they have to act like they are falling in love with me. Like I'm putting them in a trance. Well, Tom took that a bit too seriously." you paused at the laughter that your sentence caused, "They're all on their knees in front of me, looking at me as if I'm their queen, because I am." you joked, "And then Anthony calls 'cut' and Dave, Chris and RDJ all get up and start chatting, but as I'm turning away, Tom doesn't move. Still on his knees, looking at me as if I hold the world in my hands." the room filled with amused laughs and chuckles as Tom covered his face with his hands.

"No, it was so bad because I just looked like a creep that couldn't stop staring at her!" Tom laughed at himself.

Robert grabbed a mic, "Very true. I was watching and it honestly had me convinced that Y/N had real powers."

"I have to say, I understand the kid's reaction. Y/N's costume for Aphrodite and the way they transform her only enhances how gorgeous she already is." Anthony Mackie spoke up causing the crowd to gush and clap, "I'm pretty sure we all had the same reaction when we first saw her while filming Civil War." he looked around as the cast nodded.

Scarlett picked up a mic, "Yeah. I remember her walking on set in this stunning white dress which made me extremely jealous," she confessed, "Because, one, it's so gorgeous and she looks absolutely amazing in it," the crowd and cast applauded again, "And two, it's made of the softest silk while my suit is leather and spandex!" everyone laughed at her comment.

Benedict picked up his mic, "Although, it wasn't Tom's first time seeing Y/N as Aphrodite. He was in Civil War and still could not contain himself." he teased making the audience and cast laugh again.

Robert spoke again, "Yeah, he did that during the filming of Civil War, too." the room hollered with laughs.

Tom's face was bright red, "I'm just a very committed actor. I really give all of myself to my work." his comment drew more laughs.

"That's why Sebastian despises Tom. It all started when Tom couldn't take his eyes off of Y/N." Chris Hemsworth added making everyone double over in laughter.

"I feel so loved," you held a hand to your heart as the room chuckled, "These are genuinely the best people in the world and I guess you could say I seduced one person during filming." you joked as the crowd continued to laugh, "Sorry, Tom. I'll buy you some juice, don't be mad." Anthony and Benedict laughed loudly. "Thank you for your question!" you thanked the lady as the cast clapped before Jeff picked out the next ping pong ball.

Next was Scarlett. You sat back and silently judged the man who asked about fashion. Scoffing with Sebastian at his question and laughing at Scarlett's sarcastic and witty responses.

Sebastian leaned over again, "I have to piss."

You stifled a laugh at his abrupt confession, "Go to the washroom, then." you nodded your head towards the exit.

"We're not allowed to leave." he frowned.

You chuckled and reached over, patting his thigh with your hand, "Don't piss yourself."

He rolled his eyes playfully before Jeff called out the next name.

"Anthony Mackie!"

"Hi, I'm Tiffany with Times Magazine. With such a star studded cast, do you find it difficult or any obstacles in developing your character with all theses amazing stories being told and struggling for screen time? Like, are there any obstacles or special difficulties or is it all just amazing?"

Before Anthony could answer, Joe Russo picked up his mic, "Are you asking Anthony Mackie if he has a hard time getting attention?" his comment caused the whole room to erupt in laughs.

Anthony nodded slowly as the laughter died down, "Touché, touché. Uh, well, Tiffany, a wise man once said that some men need an hour to make their presence felt and some need thirty seconds." there was an uproar of laughter and hollering at his comment as he dramatically dropped the mic on the table.

"Who are we asking next?" Jeff squinted at the ping pong ball, "Ooh! Back to the Goddess of Love herself, Y/N Y/L/N!" the room applauded for you as Jeff threw the ball to you.

Sebastian intercepted the toss and caught the ball himself with a smug smirk. You rolled your eyes, but smiled as Jeff picked a lady out of the dozens who had raised their hand.

"Hi, I'm Amy with Esquire and I wanted to ask about the relationship between Bucky and Aphrodite. We see in the previous films their awkward tension from their past history. They have a very special romance and their love story is a fan favourite in the Marvel fandom. What was it like building that bond and relationship on screen? And what do you think of the choice to match the two characters together, how did you react when you found out? Did the pairing of the two help build your bond off screen?"

Jeff spoke again, "I said 'one question', that was at least twenty." he teased the lady drawing laughs from the room.

You chuckled and nodded slowly as the laughter died down, "Excellent questions. Umm, I honestly really like the pairing of the two. I think it gives a great dynamic to both characters and reveals sides of them that we never would've seen without their relationship. It's a very 'good girl falling for the bad guy' trope. And if I'm being honest, I've always wanted that." you confessed causing the room to chuckle, "Their relationship is, without a doubt, one of the most complicated ones in the MCU, but I think that's what makes it so loved by the fans since there's not a dull moment between the two. It's nice to see Bucky have a sentimental side, in his own awkward way of course. And you get to see Aphrodite fall for someone who's not a God or a Titan." you turned to Sebastian, "What do you think?"

You offered him the mic, but he didn't take it, letting you hold it up for him, "Yeah, I agree. I never thought Bucky would have a love interest, if I'm being honest. But I'm glad he does because Aphrodite brings out the soft side in him and he brings out the fighter in her. They really balance each other out and Y/N portrays the character in such a unique way, it really brings a whole new fresh persona to Aphrodite and it's amazing having her as a partner on screen." the audience applauded at his words, "When I first found out about Bucky having her as his love interest—"

"—He called me screaming about how hyped he was." Anthony Mackie cut him off making the room laugh. "Anthony! Anthony! Bucky is gonna be with Aphrodite! That's gonna be sick!" Anthony mocked his voice as you were hunched over with laughter.

Sebastian nodded with a smile, "I did. Won't lie, I did. It's a really refreshing relationship and I'm glad that the fans love it as much as I love playing it. Back to you, you haven't talked about the development and our bond." he gave you a lopsided grin.

You chuckled, "I feel like I'm rambling, but yeah. Their development is definitely," you paused, trying to find the right words, "A development?" you settled on drawing more laughter. "Well, as I said, it's very complicated, but awkwardly adorable at times. Since Seb complimented me, I feel obligated to say something nice about him," you joked making them laugh again, "Kidding. He really does play Bucky with such passion and commitment, it's truly inspiring. And working with someone who loves what they do as much as Seb, it definitely motivates you tremendously and yeah. Um, I won't lie, I honestly was dreading working with Seb," you confessed drawing laughs and a gasp from Sebastian.

"Why?!" he exclaimed making you laugh.

You sighed, "Not because I think you're a bad person or anything, but you come off as very intimidating to people who don't know you very well. And I knew nothing about you before filming other than the films you'd already done, so you scared me." your confession caused everyone to laugh loudly.

Sebastian smirked jokingly, "I am extremely frightening. I understand." he shrugged.

You scoffed with a laugh, "I caught you sleeping with a stuffed turtle and whale noises playing." the room roared with laughter again, "That's when I knew you were a big softy."

Sebastian rolled his eyes playfully, "She's joking. I am the toughest man alive." he deepened his voice.

You shook your head with a chuckle, "Sure. Thank you for your questions." the room clapped for you as you set the mic down and relaxed back into your seat.

"Nailed it." Sebastian held a hand out for a high five and you chuckled before hitting your hand against his.

For the rest of the press conference, you sat back and listened to your friends answer questions. Laughed at jokes made and clapped when appropriate. Small tic-tac-toe games went on between you and Sebastian. Your attention was fully on your nails when Tom Hiddleston got called on.

"Hi, I'm Samantha with Daily Mail and I was wondering, since Loki is a very closed off and mysterious character, we never explore the aspect of him having a love interest. So, if you could choose anyone from the MCU for Loki to end up with, who would it be and why?"

You turned to look at Tom as he pondered on the question, crossing his arms and rubbing his chin, "Very good question. Umm, who would I choose for Loki? Let's see," he paused again and looked around the room until his eyes landed on you, "Ah, I'd steal Aphrodite from Bucky." he answered making the room laugh and Sebastian chuckled with a nod.

"Why Aphrodite?" Jeff asked.

Tom chuckled again, "Well, it's Aphrodite." he simply answered drawing more laughs, "They are so different yet similar in so many ways. Loki is never fully evil nor fully good, but I think Aphrodite has the best chance of turning him good. And who wouldn't want to end up with the Goddess of Love?"

The cast nodded understandingly before Chris Pratt grabbed a mic, "If you were to ask any person on this stage that same question, I guarantee the answer would be Aphrodite." the whole cast nodded.

"They're all trying to steal Sebastian's woman." Jeff teased.

Sebastian scoffed jokingly, "They're all jealous." he wrapped an arm around your shoulder.

You chuckled with a shake of your head before Robert spoke up, "Adding onto the conversation. Miss Y/L/N, who would you want Aphrodite to end up with?" his question drew excited reactions from the crowd.

You let out a bark of laughter before looking from Tom to Sebastian, "Hmm, excellent question, Mister Downey." you rubbed your chin, "Stop doing that, Holland." you chuckled as you saw Tom point at himself in the corner of your eye.

He raised his hands in surrender before Anthony Mackie spoke up, "Spidey is five years old, kid." everyone laughed at that.

"I'd have to stick with Bucky. He is her true love." you shrugged as the crowd cheered.

Sebastian smirked from beside you as the men of the cast faked disappointment.

As the panel came to a close, you looked around at the family you were surrounded by. Friends you love more than anything. Hundreds of memories with the most amazing people you'd ever met. Your home.

#marvel cast x actress!reader #marvel cast x reader #marvel fan fiction #marvel #infinity war #sebastian x reader #tom holland #sebastian stan #anthony mackie #robert downey jr #tom holland angst #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland x actress!reader #sebastian stan x reader #tom hiddleston #bucky barnes #peter parker #loki #iron man #falcon and winter solider teaser #marvel cast x singer!reader #marvel cast x famous!reader #avengers cast #avengers #avengers fanfiction #avengers fic #avengers fluff #marvel cast fluff

[dbnightingale24]

askin for devil all the time fic whatever you wanna write i’m leavin it up to you

Okay, so this took so long because I got carried away, but I LOVED writing this and I truly hope you enjoy it!! Once again, I love you and would do anything you ask of me, so please never feel bad about asking me to write anything!!! ENJOY and Happy Halloween!!

P.S. @imawreck1999, if you want to do a reading of this, I’ll make popcorn this time.

Word Count: 12,820

Warnings: SMUT (18+) (No Age Gap between reader and Arvin), Murder, Violence, Underage Drinking, Running Away, Family Arguing, Gambling, Just lots of not good things...Read At Your Own Risk and Responsibly 

**

                                I’ll Follow You Into The Dark

“Same fill up as usual?” Arvin asks as you pull up to the gas station where he works.

“I suppose so,” you smile as you roll down your window. “You know, my Pa is sore at you.”

“Sore at me? For what?” he asks, pushing the pump nozzle into your gas tank. “I worked off my debt, didn’t I?”

“You worked off your debt, but you stopped comin’ around.”

“What else is there for me to come around for?”

“I don’t know, probably thought you’d man up and ask me out,” you say with a wry smile.

“I did man up and ask you out,” he chuckles, removing the nozzle once the machine ‘tings’.

“I know that- but he doesn’t.”

“You ready for your parents to know?”

“Not really. But you could still come around.”

“Come around and do what?”

“I don’t know, maybe fix a chifferobe or two? Fix up the sink in the kitchen?”

“You know I have to pickup Lenora after school.”

“Who told you not to? Hell, bring her with you.”

“Yeah? Then what happens after I run out of things to fix?” he smirks, leaning against the drivers side door.

“Maybe make an honest woman out of me, and ask me out on a real date? In front of my parents.”

“Maybe-”

“By maybe, I mean do it.”

“You’ll be ready for that?”

“Ready for my Mama and all of her hollerin’ about a weddin’ date and havin’ babies? Never,” you laugh softly, “but I’m ready to be with you. Really be with you. Besides, as handy as you are, you can’t be that fast at fixin’ things.”

“Well, now I have a bit more of a push to work faster,” he laughs before dipping down and kissing you. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Arvin,” you sigh, always wanting more of him but never asking as Sheriff Lee Bodecker pulls up behind you, obnoxiously honking his horn. “What a prick. Hey, what are you doin’ tonight?”

“Goin’ home and helpin’ my grandmother with last minute prep for some Spring thing they’re havin’ at church this weekend.”

“Well, do you think she’d protest to you staying out a little later tonight?”

“What do you have in mind?”

“There’s gonna be a little get together at Tim’s,” you sigh as the Sheriff honks his horn again. You lean out the open window, turn around, and give him the finger. Sheriff or not, he can still kiss both sides of your ass.

“Y/N, don’t-” he sheepishly protests.

“I haven’t done anythin’ besides bruise his ego, don’t worry about him. What do you say? Come tonight-”

“Lenora-”

“It’ll only be for a few hours, she’ll be fine. I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” he smiles as the sheriff honks his horn again. “I’ll meet you there-”

“My parents have dinner plans with a friend, pick me up.”

“Fine, I’ll pick you up,” he laughs before kissing your forehead. “Go before you get yourself in real trouble.”

“Tell me what I wanna hear or I’ll stay right here.”

“You’re a real trouble maker, you know that? I love you.”

“And I love you, Arvin,” you smile before turning over the engine and its pistons fire. “I’ll see you tonight, and you better not stand me up,” you warn, sounding as foreboding as possible.

“As if I ever could,” he calls back as you pull away.

As you slowly wind onto the familiar roads back home, car full of gas and back seat full of groceries, you smile to yourself at the ideas you hope come true tonight.

**

You sit at the kitchen in Tim’s house, looking around the room, holding your beer close. Arvin called and told you that he wouldn’t be able to pick you up because there was something going on with Lenora, his grandmother, and uncle, but that he’d meet you. He promised he’d meet you.

Well, you’ve been at Tim’s now for 2 hours and there’s still no sign of him. You’re irritation grows by the second; the night wasn’t going at all as you had planned, and you were growing more and more uncomfortable as more guys hit on you. Yeah, you’re only three beers in, but that doesn’t stop the steadying uneasiness in your stomach.

All of that and Devin won’t stop performing Johnny Cash songs on his acoustic guitar. The way he was performing, you’d think that The Man in Black invented country music itself.

“Now ma’am,” a guy who can’t be that much older than you smiles as he approaches,“I’ve been watching you sit alone here all night. You get stood up or somethin’?”

“No,” you smile sweetly, “my boyfriend is on his way. He’s just finishin’ up some work at home.”

“I’d make you a priority over any work I have.”

“Well, that’s very sweet of you, but he’ll be here soon.”

“You sure you don’t wanna make him jealous with a little dance?”

“No, I don’t think that would turn out great for anyone,” you smile as you start shifting uncomfortably. ‘Arvin and his temper are nothing to toy with, it’s best not to test those waters’ you think to yourself.

“What’s the danger in one dance?” he eggs on, moving closer to you.

“I believe the lady said no,” Arvin interjects, hand on the guy’s shoulder as he forces his attention onto him and away from you. You quickly stand up as the anger on his face is very apparent. “Or did you not understand?”

“You’re the one who ditched her, pal. Don’t get mad at me because-”

“Let’s not do this tonight,” you interrupt, standing between Arvin’s temper and its target as well as the two men. “I said no, you’re here now, and that’s that. Let’s all just go our own separate ways,” you smile sweetly.

“You’ll be sorry,” the guy scoffs before stalking off.

“Hey...hey,” you call to Arvin as his angry gaze follows the guy “relax. Everythin’ is fine-”

“He been hasslin’ you all night?” he asks flatly.

“No, he just-”

“Why would you wear that?” he asks, finally looking at your outfit.

“I don’t know, maybe ‘cause I thought you would like it,” you snap back, feeling irritated and stupid at the same time, wishing you hadn’t thrown your jacket in Tim’s bedroom. “Are you just gonna be an ass the whole night, or are you gonna tell me what’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry,” he sighs, picking up your beer and taking a swig “it’s nothin’ you’ve done. You look great and I love you....Lenora is acting strange and we can’t figure out what the hell to do.”

“Strange how?”

“She’s closed off and she’s been sick a lot. Shes been spending more time with that preacher everyone’s so riled up about and now she just seems...something is wrong.”

“Well did you-”

“I’m sorry, can we go somewhere else?” he asks, a scowl on his face. “If I hear one more Johnny Cash song, I’m going to punch myself in the face.”

“Let me grab my jacket and we can go.”

“Fuck, your car! I’m so sorry-”

“I’ll drive back to my parents house and we can just drive around. Maybe go to Linda’s. She never closes that damn diner.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizin’. Let me get my jacket and we can go,” you smile at him.

You quickly grab your jacket and tell your few friends goodnight as Arvin practically drags you out of the house. When you get in your car and start it while waiting for Arvin, you can’t help but laugh when ‘Jackson’ starts playing on the radio. Death, taxes, Jonny Cash: some things are inescapable.

The drive back to your house is quick and easy. Your parents are surprisingly still out at their dinner party, so you quickly run into your house and drop off your keys. You write them a quick note, leaving it on the kitchen table. The note tells them you’ll be spending the night at Sarah’s because they don’t always need to know whole truths. You quickly slip out the front door and hop up into Arvin’s pickup.

“You sure I’m not gettin’ you into trouble?” he asks as he pulls off quickly.

“No one is home, baby,” you laugh, “I left them a note saying I’m staying over at Sarah’s.”

“You told Sarah?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Why would you?”

“Arvin, what is goin’ on with you?”

“Nothin’,” he sighs, gripping the steering wheel tighter as he starts to drive faster.

“Don’t do that. Don’t shut me out.”

“It would just be nice to see you and not be angry about somethin’.”

“Okay, but you are angry about somethin’ right now and I’d rather know then not. What’s going on?”

“You trust preachers?” he asks, quickly glancing at you before returning his gaze back to the road.

“Aren’t we supposed to?”

“You know what I mean,” he huffs before turning into the parking lot of the local liquor store. “I’ll be right back.”

“Arvin-”

“It’ll only take a minute, baby,” he sighs before getting out, hustling his way inside.

You sigh and sit back. Your mind racing as you try and figure out just what the hell is going on. You groan in frustration when you look to your left and see Sheriff Bodecker pulling up beside you. You look up to God and ask him what you did to deserve a day like this as the dirt in the parking lot kicks up into your vision.

“You know, underage drinking is a chargeable offense,” he muses aloud as he gets out of his cop car.

“Lucky for me, I’m not drinking. As if you care,”

“It is my job.”

“It didn’t seem like you cared about your job two months ago when you told me I can fuck you to keep my Daddy’s business open,” you crack back, eyes squinting as your glare sharpens.

“He still has $600 left to pay,” he smirks, inching closer to Arvin’s truck.

“Well, lets hope he comes up with it.”

“You know, a lot of women would be-”

“Is everythin’ okay here?” Arvin asks as he pulls the truck door open. “Sheriff, anythin’ wrong?”

“Just letting your lovely passenger know that her Daddy should come and see me when he gets the chance,” he smiles sweetly, patting the door two times before noticing at the bag of booze in his hand. “That for you, boy?”

“My Uncle asked me to pick it up on my way back,” Arvin lied coolly as you smile to yourself.

“Sure he did. You two have fun tonight, stay safe.”

“Will do,” Arvin fake smiles before starting his truck, pulling away, and driving off.

“I swear to God, I could slit his throat,” you mumble, digging into the bag of booze Arvin bought in and grabbing a beer. “Piece of shit.”

“What the hell happened back there?”

“Nothin’ to worry about,” you huff, taking a swig of your drink.

“No, if I don’t get to shut you out, you don’t get to shut me out.”

“Arvin-”

“What’s going on, Y/N?”

“You know my Daddy has a gambling problem.”

“Lose too much at Madame Duffy’s again?”

“Well yeah, but this time he lost too much to Sheriff Bodecker.”

“That must be a bitch.”

“It wasn’t too bad, we’ve been makin’ good money at the meat shop lately, but Bodecker doesn’t feel like he’s getting paid back quick enough,” you sigh, finishing off your beer before grabbing another.

“What does that mean?” Arvin growls as he grips the steering wheel tighter, knuckles whitening.

“He propositioned me,” you laugh humorlessly. “If I fuck him, I can get rid of my Daddy’s debt..”

His face tenses up like he swallowed some bad milk. “He said what?!” Arvin questions, braking screaming as they the truck screeches to a swerving stop.

“I don’t want to think about it, Arvin. I-”

“I swear to God I’ll kill him.”

“Baby, I’m having a good time with you. I don’t want to think about anything else. I just want us to focus on each other and right now,” you smile as Hank Williams starts to play on the radio. “Let’s just be happy, okay? Tomorrow and all of its bullshit can worry about itself.”

“I love you, you know that?”

“I think I do,” you giggle as you settle back into your seat and take a sip of your beer.

You met Arvin your first year of High School. He didn’t much like people, and people didn’t think highly of him either. Kids were cruel and would constantly poke fun at his upbringing: how his daddy was a deranged war vet who killed himself, and how his Mama’s cancer was the result of a punishment from God for his father almost killing two men one morning for reasons unknown. He was often in a lot of fights, and you had been told by your parents on more than one occasion to stay away from him.

“Boys like that only bring trouble and that’s nothing you need to get messed up in,” your Mama would say as she dropped you off at school.

You always found it funny that she had that mentality considering that her husband, your Daddy, is the biggest gambler in the county and, for a while, its biggest womanizer. However, you always bit your tongue and minded your manners. You knew she meant well so it was best for you to just keep your mouth shut and nod in agreement.

However, as time went on, your eyes always found themselves searching for him in class, and you found it harder and harder to heed your parents warning. His eyes always looked so tired and sad. He had soft facial features, but you could tell he was good with his hands just by looking at them. They always looked worn and calloused. He always made sure to use “sir” and “ma’am” when addressing your parents whenever he went to your Daddy’s meat shop to pick up food. You watched how he protected and looked out for Lenora, and it really got you thinking, “he can’t be all that bad if he can love that much.”

During your Junior year, you finally found a reason to talk to him.

“Your Uncle good with cars?” you asked him one day after class, catching him as he was about to leave.

“Excuse me?”

“Your Uncle. How is he with cars?”

“Pretty good, usually.”

“Think he’d be willing to fix my Daddy’s truck? Somethin’ about a fan belt or other. He’ll pay him good money.”

“I’ll ask him when I get home,” Arvin smiled.

“Here, give my Daddy a call with your answer,” you responded quickly, surprised your plan worked out so well. You tore out a piece of paper from your notebook and quickly wrote down your home phone number. “Best time to call is around 6.”

“I’ll remember that,” he smiled at you, taking the piece of paper from you and putting it in his front pocket.

“Thank you, Arvin,” you smiled playfully before turning to walk away.

“My pleasure,” he responded softly, looking you over before walking off in the other direction.

Your daddy wasn’t pleased with you for going against his wishes, but it’s not like he could really make any argument.

“Do you have the money to pay Earl for it?” you asked as you tidied up the shop.

“Y/N, mind your manners,” your Mama snapped.

“I’m not sayin’ anythin’ wrong,” you defended. “We need the truck for deliveries. If he can’t afford Earl, we’re gonna have to go to someone else. Arvin’s Uncle won’t be expecting as much as Earl, if he even agrees. He’ll be doing you a favor.”

Your Daddy was thoughtful before he spoke. “If he decides to fix up the truck, I don’t want you talkin’ to that boy. Understand?”

“Yes sir,” you sighed before removing your apron. “I’ve finished up here, so I’m gonna head home and start my homework.”

“I want you to go straight home,” your Mama quips. “Dinner is all ready, you just need to heat it up.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Anyone calls-”

“I know, Mama,” you sighed “leave it on the notepad on the kitchen counter.”

“Is that an attitude I hear?”

“No ma’am, but you tell me the same thing every day. I forgot one message one time-”

“And look what a world of mess that caused.”

“It’s not my fault Daddy gambled away that money!”

“Don’t you sass me, young lady!” your Mama snapped, spinning around quick. Daddy glared silently at the wall, biting his lower lip to keep quiet.

You thought of defending yourself, but it would only make things worse. “Yes Mama,” you conceded softly, “I’ll see you when you get home.”

You heard her sigh as you went to leave and you knew she felt bad, but it’s the same as always. Her frustration wasn’t with you, it was with your Daddy and his inability to get his shit together. However, you’re not allowed to live in your frustrations long. The phone rang at six o clock exactly, as soon as the grandfather clock started its chimes; you practically ran to answer it.

“Hello?”

“Y/N? Are you okay?” Arvin asked a little worried.

“I’m fine, I’m fine. Just ran to make sure I didn’t miss the phone,” you laughed breathlessly. “H-how are you?”

“I’m fine, yourself?”

“I’m fine.”

“....your Daddy home?”

“Uh no, he and my Mama won’t be home till 6:30.”

“Oh, I thought you said 6 was the best time to call. I’m-”

“I did say 6. I’m home alone and done with my homework every day by 6.”

“Oh,” he responded softly and you could hear the smile in his tone.

“What did your Uncle say?”

“He said he’d be happy to do it. He’ll talk prices when he sees the condition of the truck.”

“Will you be comin’ with him?”

“I can.”

“I-I think you should. You can help him, cause my Daddy is useless. Plus, knowin’ my Mama, she’ll whip up somethin’ as her way of sayin’ thanks.”

“Will you be there?”

“I will,” you smiled to yourself.

“Guess I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“Tomorrow it is,” you almost sang before hanging up.

And that’s how it started.

He showed up with his Uncle the next day, bright and early, and you did your best to not stare too long. Your Daddy had been keeping an eye on you, only letting you go over to them when your Mama finished making a lunch for both Arvin and his Uncle. Since it was Saturday, you had pinned your hair up into a tidy ponytail and put on one of your better dresses. Your parents thought nothing of it since Saturdays were the busiest days. They always wanted you to look your best when helping out around the store.

Arvin could barely focus on the truck he was supposed to be helping his Uncle with.

The following Monday, he called at exactly 6 and you two stayed on the phone right up until your parents pulled into the driveway. Then he called the next night, and the next, and the next...

Finally, two weeks later, he sat next to you at lunch.

“I like your dress,” he commented softly after a beat.

“All the talks we’ve had on the phone, and you start off with that?”

“Well, this is different,” he laughed, “besides, I know you aren’t even supposed to be speakin’ to me.”

“I don’t care.”

“Don’t start that. You don’t need another reason for your Mama to start gettin’ into you.”

“As if she needs a reason nowadays,” you huffed. “My Daddy’s been off trying to win back money he lost, and in the process he’s just making it worse. Almost put the store out of business. Apparently, that’s also my fault for not pullin’ my weight in the store.”

“Haven’t you been goin’ in on Sundays?”

“Doesn’t matter. Still my fault.”

“You’ll be out of there soon enough, Darlin’,” he sighed, taking your hand in his.

After that, you two were inseparable, much to the dismay of many of the guys at school.

“Bet your Daddy doesn’t know you’re fuckin’ that Russell kid,” spat Tyler, one of the most popular boys at school, as you started on your way home from your parents meat shop.

“I’m not doin’ anythin’ with anyone. You mind your business and stay away from me,” you fire back.

You and Arvin really hadn’t done anything. He was a gentleman, despite what the people in town thought, and he wanted to ask for permission to date you before anything happened between you two.

“Bet I can fuck you better than he can,” he smirked.

“Leave me alone, Higgins.”

“Awh what’s wrong? Prettiest girl in the county getting worked up by-”

“She said to leave her alone,” Arvin repeated as he slammed his car door shut.

“The fuck you gonna do about it, Russell?!” Tyler yelled back.

Before you could get between the two of them, Arvin’s fist blasted Tyler’s face.

“Arvin stop!” you yelled, standing back, trying to get away from the violent scene in front of you.

It was like he was another person; a transformation in plain sight. Tyler tried to fight back, but Arvin was on him like a bat out of hell. Tyler stumbled back but Arvin propped him up, only to shove him through one of the window’s of your parent’s store.

“Arvin, that’s enough!” you yelled, starting to cry. No, you hadn’t particularly cared for Tyler Higgins, but the amount of blood that was everywhere had you feeling sympathetic for the giant asshole.

“When a woman tells you to leave her alone, you leave her alone!” he huffed, punching him again as your Daddy tried his best to pull him off of the now bloodied and badly beaten boy. “Now apologize, to the woman!”

“I’m...I’m sorry!” he tries to mumble through swollen lips.

“I’m sorry who?!”

“I’m sorry, Y/N!”

“That’s more like it now. Don’t ever do it again, you hearin’ me?! Or I promise you’ll be sorry,” Arvin spat, before finally releasing the boy and watching him crumble to the ground in a heap.

Your Mama was instantly at the boy’s side, trying to tend to his wounds, and make sure that he was okay.

“I’m real sorry about your window, I’ll pay for it as soon as I can,” Arvin panted, facing your father, before turning his gaze on you. The sight of you shaking and crying truly broke his heart. You had been the first person outside of his family to treat him right and give a damn about him, and now you were just looking at him with pure fear in your eyes. He hadn’t meant to lose control like that, but seeing someone make you that upset set him off. Now you were probably just as afraid of him as you had been of Tyler Higgins.

However, your Daddy was seeing things in a new light after that.

“He put that boy in the hospital,” your Mama repeated later that night, exasperated as she took a sip of whiskey.

“Yeah he did, but that boy was makin’ our little girl upset. The way he spoke to her...I’m just sayin, if that Arvin boy is gonna protect her like that, she can at least be friends with him.”

“And how about the damn window?”

“He can work that off by fixin’ things up around the shop. Said he’d pay for it, but you know what it’s like at that age-”

“We ain’t got enough money for you to-”

“Goddamit! I’ll make the money back, now enough about it!”

“You know what? I’m done trying to keep things afloat, you dumb son of a bitch!” your Mama yells before getting up and storming off.

That was one of the loudest you can remember your house getting at night.

You kept your distance from Arvin for a while after that. You wouldn’t even let him drive you to your parents meat shop after school, even though you were both headed in the same direction. He watched you with the saddest eyes; it really had broken your heart. However, you promised yourself you’d never be with anyone who couldn’t control their temper. You’d seen what blind rage could do a few times, when Daddy would lose his temper with your Mama. The cleanup afterwards was always gut wrenching and traumatizing. While you never thought Arvin would put his hands on you, you didn’t want to risk it. You didn’t want to be around any of it if you didn’t have to.

However, as fate would have it, you two ended up alone in his car one evening. Your Daddy asked him to drive you home so you wouldn’t have to walk in the pouring rain, which you appreciated because the rain was a deluge.

“Well, thank you,” you said softly as he pulled up to your parent’s house.

“Y/N, please wait,” he called softly, resting his hand on your arm.

“Arvin, the rain is gettin’ worse and I don’t want you to-”

“Please just...I am so sorry about what happened. You have no idea-”

“It’s like you weren’t even yourself,” you say, your voice sounding small to your own ears.

“I know and I’m sorry. I try my hardest not to lose control but when I saw how uncomfortable you looked and how frightened...I just wanted to take care of you. I wasn’t even supposed to be there, but I wanted to pick some food up for my grandmother...seeing you...how was I not supposed to react?”

“You can’t lose control like that, Arvin.”

“I know, I know. I’m so sorry. I’ve missed you so much and I love you...God, I love you so much. I promise-”

“You what?” you interrupted, not believing you heard his admission correctly.

“Y/N, I love you so much. I didn’t wanna say anythin’ because we’re still figurin’ this out, but I swear to you...I do love you.”

You didn’t even stop to think as you leaned across the console and cupped his face in your hands and kissed him. It hadn’t dawned on you that he reacted out of wanting to protect you instead of reacting out of sheer jealousy. No one had ever really gotten to know you because they wanted to understand you, they just wanted to get in your pants. Arvin let you get to know him and he got to know you. He took the time to learn what you loved, what scared you, what made you happy, and what made you sad. He had held you close on multiple occasions at school, when you felt overwhelmed and started to cry. He’d even gone so far as to sneak into your house when everyone was asleep to make sure you were okay.

The more you thought about it, the more it all started to make better sense. Arvin truly did love you and you were finally allowing yourself to admit that you loved him.

But there was still that temper.

“You can’t ever hurt me,” you sob breathlessly as you two breakaway from each other.

“Darlin’, I would never do anythin’ to hurt you,” he responded softly, wiping your tears away.

“Arvin, I mean it. The minute you raise your hand to me, I’m walkin’-”

“Hey, listen to me,” he coaxed sincerely, “I will never lose control on you like that. I’m not your Daddy, Y/N. I won’t gamble our future away, I won’t sleep with other women while you’re at home waitin’ for me, and I won’t ever hurt a hair on your head. I love you, Y/N. I swear I’ll never do anythin’ to make you doubt that.” He pulled you in for another kiss, but stopped short and pulled something from the backseat. “I got these for you,” he smiled, handing you a few lilies that he tied to together into a mini bouquet. “ A small token of how sorry I really am.”

“I love them,” you beamed at him, taking in their scent.

“I love you, Y/N,”

“And I love you, Arvin.”

You brought him inside of the house after that, because the rain was relentless and there was no way you were letting him drive in such a downpour. Your parents called to let you know that they would be staying in the bedroom above the meat shop because the weather was so bad. You asked them if it was okay for Arvin to stay over since the storm wasn’t going to let up anytime soon.

“Y/N-”

“Mama, I’ll feel awful if he drives home in this. You clearly know how bad it, cause you and Daddy aren’t even coming home. I’ll sleep in your room and he can sleep in mine.”

“I’m sure he’s a capable driver-”

“Just let the boy stay over for goodness sake,” your Daddy slurred in the background.

You heard your Mama let out a frustrated sigh and you knew she wasn’t going to get her way. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t approve of.”

“Yes Mama. I love you.”

“I love you,” she responded softly before hanging up.

That night, you cooked up a few pieces of chicken and split leftover mashed potatoes between the two of you.

“Your Mama teach you how to cook?” Arvin asked, after making his third plate of food.

“Actually my grandmother did,” you smiled. “She would let me stay at her house for a while when things got too out of control here.”

“Well, she did an amazing job,” he smiled at you.

Afterwords, you both sat out on the deck, drinking a small cup of gin while Arvin had a smoke and held you in his arms. You don’t think you’d ever felt so happy in your life. When it was time for you two to say goodnight, that proved to be harder than you expected.

“These should be okay,” you smiled at him, handing him a pair of your Daddy’s pajama pants.

“Sure you can’t stay in here with me?”

“After how hard it was for me to stop myself while we were on the couch, I think it’s best for me to sleep in my parents room,” you giggled, toying with your fingers.

“I guess that’s fair,” he smiled before walking up close and wrapping his arms around you. “I love you.”

“I love you,” you smiled before kissing him.

Your arms were around him in no time and he holding you as close he could. When you felt him start to get excited, you knew you need to stop before it goes too far.

“I’m sorry,” he laughed breathless, leaning his forehead against yours.

“It’s fine,” you smiled “I should be gettin’ to bed anyway.”

“Goodnight, Darlin’.”

“Goodnight,” you smiled.

You tossed and turned in your parents bed for hours that night, trying to push out all of the thoughts your Mama would have made you repent for. But it was no use. It was around 2am when you found yourself walking to your bedroom.

“Hey,” you called softly from the doorway, butterflies turning into moths inside your stomach.

“Can’t sleep either, huh?” he laughed, turning over to see you.

He was laying shirtless in your bed and you knew that if didn’t turn back in that moment, you’d disappoint the hell out of your parents. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. “Think I can stay in here with you?”

“You sure that’s what you want?

“I am.”

The moment you got under the covers, his lips were on yours and his fingers were exploring every inch of your body. You had done a few things, but nothing this intimate, and you had never been so excited. It didn’t take Arvin long to get you undressed and begging beneath him.

“Have a you ever done this before?” he asked, looking down at you while stroking himself in his hand.

“No,” you responded softly, suddenly feeling small.

“It’s okay, baby. I just want you to be sure this is what you want. I can stop if you need more time.”

“N-no, I want this with you, tonight. I’m ready,” you said, more to yourself than him.

He pressed two fingers into your greedy channel, and that had you moaning and rolling your hips against his. “Shit, I’m trying to get you ready for me, Darlin’,” he rasped, closing his eyes and quickening his pace.

“Feels so good,” you moan beneath him, squirming as something inside you started to build up. “Arvin...I...I-”

“That’s okay Sweetheart, just hang on to me,” he breathed, trying to keep a steady pace as you gripped his arms and dug your nails in.

You let out a pitiful moan when you felt a wave of pleasure wash over you. You watched as the beautiful boy above you was doing his best to make this as enjoyable for you as possible, but his face was the true testament to how hard he was trying to contain himself. He dipped down and started to kiss on your neck, doing his best to not mark you up, as he continued to fuck into you with his fingers. When he started to trail hungry kisses down to your breasts, that had you weeping for him and pulling at his hair.

He took one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking and licking on it like it was his most favorite candy in the world. He used his thumb to make little circles on your clit, and you couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of your mouth. Your body felt it was being hit with waves of electricity all at once and you didn’t want it to stop. You needed more of him.

“Baby please,” you pathetically begged, after he brought you off for a second time.

It was the first time showing the wicked grin that earned you his love.

“You sure you’re ready?”

“Arvin please,” you whined “I need you so much, please!”

He kissed his way slowly up your body, his ego loving how desperate and needy you were for him to break him apart in a new way. However, your begging and desperate cries soon turn into painful hisses and choked breaths when he replaces his fingers slowly with his cock.

That had him feeling terrible.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he cooed into your ear, before kissing your cheek. “I’m so sorry.”

“Holy fuck!” you cried out, feeling him stretch you out in the most painful way you’ve ever felt.

“Want me to stop?”

“No no, I-I can handle it,” you sobbed out.

“It’ll feel so good, I swear,” he coaxed, kissing away your tears that you were trying to stop from falling.

You closed your eyes and tried to focus on anything other than the pain, as he continued to plow slowly within you. You didn’t think it would get any better, and you were thinking that you’d never wanna do it again, until something inside you burst. After a few more uncomfortable thrusts, the pain was starting to get replaced by something more euphoric.

“Oh my God,” you moaned, your grip on his shoulders tightening. “Baby...oh fuck!”

“Yeah?” he smirked down at you. “Feelin’ better?” he asked, picking up the pace.

“Please don’t stop,” you begged, clawing at his back.

“Never needed someone so much,” he groaned, sliding a finger between you two and starting to rub your clit.

“Fuck!” you mewled, your legs wrapping around him instinctively, clenching your eyes shut at the added pleasure.

“I love you so much, Y/N” he huffed, rubbing faster as he starts fucking you desperately, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear in a moment. “I’ll never do anything to scare you like that again,” he promised, before dipping down and kissing you.

His kiss swallowed your pathetic moans as he brought you off again, loving the way you seemed to melt beneath him. Once your grip on him loosened a bit, he was back to assaulting your neck with his tongue. You gripped his hair, feeling your body starting to tighten again.

“I don’t think I can take much more” you whimpered, your body feeling numb from all the pleasure coursing through you.

“Please, just one more time for me,” he pleads, his own movements becoming erratic. “I love the way you come apart for me, Darlin’. The way this pussy responds to me,” he moans.

“Arvin...oh my fuck!” you moaned at his dirty words, clenching around him in a desperate vice.

“Can’t believe you chose me, can’t believe you love me,” he huffed, his grip tightening on your waist.

“I love you so much,” you whimpered, the knot in your core becoming tighter. “Can’t hold on.”

“Give it to me, Darlin’. It’s okay,” he cooed as you screamed his name beneath him.

A feeling like nothing you’d ever felt before washed over you in multiple waves. It was beyond pleasure and you almost felt like you weren’t in your own body. Arvin’s own pornographic yells are what brought you back down, as he continued to thrust into you. He rode out both of your orgasms, before collapsing softly onto your body. He rested his head on your chest, listening to to your heartbeat slowdown, as you both tried to regulate your breathing.

After a few moments, he slowly pulls out and you moan in dissatisfaction at the emptiness that now takes his place.

“Where’s your bathroom, Sweetheart?” he asked, standing up and pulling his boxers on.

“Down the hall on your right,” you yawned, looking him over with a small smile on your face. He was so fucking beautiful.

As he walked out, you think about what just happened and what it means. Sure, you and him had been a couple for a while (as far as you were concerned), but you just gave yourself to him. All of yourself. He can tell you he loves you as much as he wants, but that doesn’t stop the anxiety from creeping in. You’re sure that your Daddy told your Mama that he loved her a million times before ruining her life. However, when he made his way back into your room, damp cloth in hand, your fears had no choice but to fall away.

You hiss when you feel the warm cloth between your legs and on your most sensitive nerve. “I’m sorry, Darlin’”

“I just want you to hold me,” you whined, not caring how pathetic you sounded.

“As you wish,” he laughed before he grabbed his pack of cigarettes and a light, as he gets back in bed next to you, pulling you close to him. “How are you feelin’?” he asked, placing a cigarette in-between his lips and lighting it.

“Perfect,” you smiled as you laid your head on his chest.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm, I love you,” you responded softly, kissing his chest.

“I love you,” he laughed softly, before taking a drag of his cigarette before removing it and kissing the top of your head.

You were thoughtful before you spoke. “I don’t want anyone to know.”

“What? Y/N-”

“Just here me out,” you quickly interrupted. “I don’t want my parents givin’ us their unwanted opinions.”

“Your Daddy likes me now.”

“My Mama doesn’t. She doesn’t like or trust you, and I don’t want her giving you a hard time.”

“I can handle it,” he sighed, taking another drag from his cigarette.

“I know you can, but you don’t deserve it. I don’t want it to be a secret forever, just until we graduate. Then we can just leave. We don’t have to stay here and put up with it.”

“You wanna leave with me after school?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“It’s not movin’ too fast for you?” he asked, looking down at you.

“Did you mean what you said earlier?”

“You know I did.”

“Then it’s not movin’ fast at all,” you replied softly. “It’s not easy...the feelings and fears I have, but I also know that I’ve never felt so happy or so loved. Things haven’t been easy for either of us, but when we’re together...I don’t feel as heavy or scared. I don’t feel like I’m doomed to be miserable.”

“I make you feel that way?”

“You make me feel better than anyone else ever has,” you smiled up at him.

He kissed the top of your head before resting his head on top of yours and taking a drag from his cigarette. “I’m fine with waitin’ as long as you’re sure this is what you want.”

“I’m positive.”

When you woke up the next day, Arvin was gone but he had left you a small note.

‘I figured it would be best for me to leave now then stick around and rip myself away from you when you wake up. I love you, see you soon.’

He left the note next to the lilies he’d put together for you. When your parents came back home that day, your Daddy suspected nothing while your Mama was continuously eyeing you.

It didn’t matter to you though, because you had Arvin and he loved you. You two tried to be as discreet as possible, only embracing one another when you two were alone and only making love in the backseat of his car or when he was able to sneak you into his house (with the promise that you’d do your best to keep quiet).

You sat next to each other in every class you could, you sat a row behind him at church, and you went to every school function together (though you two only met up together when it came to dances).

Yes, everything between you and Arvin had been going smoothly and you couldn’t wait for your future together.

However, his temper still got the best of him.

“Lenora told me about the fight you got into the other day,” you sigh, getting comfy in the bed of his pickup, looking up at the stars.

“Lenora needs to keep her damn mouth shut,” he snaps, closing the back door of his truck. He throws two blankets in the back with you, placing the bag of booze next to you before hopping up inside the truck bed next to you. “She had no right to tell you anythin’.”

“You should’ve told me, Arvin.”

“Why? So you can be mad at me like you are now?”

“Because you made me a promise that you’d get your temper under control.”

“They’re not dead, are they?”

“One of em was damn near close,” you say in protest.

“But he isn’t,” Arvin snaps at you and you just roll your eyes.

“Whatever,” you say, opening the bottle of gin and taking a swig.

“You’re really gonna stay mad at me now?”

“I’m not anything towards you, Arvin. If you don’t see the problem, what the hell do I need to tell you?”

“Don’t you do that.”

“I’m not doin’ anything.”

“You’re shuttin’ me out.”

“No I’m not,” you huff. “I’m tired of havin’ the same talks with you. You can’t just fly off the handle whenever-”

“I didn’t! They’ve been botherin’ and bullyin’ her the same way Tyler was to you-”

“We all know what you did to Tyler,don’t we?”

“And has he bothered you since?”

“You made your point.’

“Have I?”

“Don’t be an asshole, Arvin.” you sigh, pulling away from him as he tries to hold you.

“You’re really mad at me, aren’t you?”

“Not mad. More disappointed, that’s all-.”

“Y/N-”

“We’ve talked about gettin’ married, Arvin.”

“We are gettin’ married,” he smiles at you, motioning towards your jacket pocket.

“Exactly, we’re gettin’ married and you’re still keepin’ secrets from me.”

“I just didn’t see the point-”

“You didn’t want me to know because you didn’t want me gettin’ mad.”

“Can you blame me?” he asks, a shy smile playing on his lips.

“Arvin-”

“I know, okay? I have to do better, I have to tell you everythin’ or-”

“Or you lose me,” you state as if it’s the most simple thing in the world.

“Okay fine,” he sighs, laying back and propping himself up on his elbows. “Tell you everything or let you go. Now, come here,” he smiles, pulling on the back of your dress.

Arvin had proposed to you 4 weeks ago and you didn’t hesitate to tell him yes. Your celebration was short lived, mainly because he proposed to you right after school let out and you both had work to do. He promised as soon as you both graduated, the first thing he was gonna do was take you to the courthouse and make you his wife. You couldn’t wear the ring yet (for obvious reasons), but you kept in your jacket pocket. Maybe that’s why the thought of your parents knowing about two of you didn’t seem so scary anymore. You two were as committed to each other as two people could be, and you had talked about your future. Things were going well and you had faith that your lives wouldn’t be anything like your parents’.

“We’re gonna get caught if we keep doin’ this in the middle of Mr. Higgins cornfield,” you moan as Arvin trails kisses down your neck.

“As long as we keep wakin’ up before him, we’ll be fine,” he smirks beneath you, his hands sliding up your dress. “You’re not wearin’-”

“It’s been too long,” you smirk, sitting up and straddling him.

“I had to stay away, you know that,” he groans, pulling off his shirt and looking up at you. “I really do like that dress,”he says breathlessly.

“Yeah?” you question slowly unbuttoning it. “My Mama made it for me.”

“I’ll have to remember to thank her,” he moans, eyes watching your every move intensely.

“Guess so,”you moan, feeling him harden beneath you as you slowly let the straps slowly down your arms; your dress pools around your waist.

“You are so fuckin’ beautiful, Darlin’”, he husks as his hands travel up your sides, his finger tips light as feathers on your skin.

“Missed having you like this,” you smile before you start grinding your hips into him. “Below me,” you moan “desperate.”

“Don’t tease me,” he warns, his grip on you tightening. “You know what happens when you do.”

“That’s exactly why I’m doing it,” you sigh, continuing to grind on him as you place your hands on his chest. “Fuck, I can’t...shit!” you moan as you cum on his jeans.

“Can’t wait anymore,” he growls, hands fumbling with his belt while you push yourself up a little so he can get his pants down. “Gotta be inside you,” he groans, getting his pants down and himself free.

You both moan as you slowly sink yourself down on him, letting him split you apart the way you love the most.

“We should almost get caught by your parents more often,” he rasps with a softy laugh, as you start riding him.

“Don’t even,” you moan, looking down as your hair falls in front of your face. “I never wanna be without you that long again. I hate sleeping without you.”

“Soon...soon...fuck! Just like that!” he moans as start to quicken your pace, rolling your hips against his. His hands make their way up your body and soon enough his hands are massaging your breasts, him kneading your nipples between his fingers every so often.

“Arvin,” you moan so softly you aren’t sure he even hears you.

“So fuckin’ sexy,” he growls, watching you use him to get you to the place of bliss you can only reach when he’s loving you. “Can’t wait to make you my wife.”

“Baby, I’m so close!” you mewl, your finger nails digging into his chest.

“Give it to me, Y/N,” he growls, “went so long not being able to watch you fall apart!”

“Fuck!” you cry out, cumming hard and almost losing your balance.

“Such a good girl,” he growls, before wrapping his arms around your waist.

In one swift move he’s upright, and you’re settling down on his lap. “Fuck!”

“Do you know how hard it is just watch you like that and not take over?” he growls, thrusting into you while his hands travel all over your back.

“I love the way you watch me, like...like I’m the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen,” you moan, your hands finding perches on his shoulders as you wrap your legs around him.

“That’s because you are,” he huffs before planting kisses all over neck and chest. “You are so precious to me. I’ll never stop loving you.”

“I love...love you...Arvin, I’m gonna-”

“I need you to right now,” he grunts, gripping your hair tight, pulling with just enough force to send you over that cliff of mind numbing pleasure.

He soon follows right over that cliff, screaming your name along with a few other obscenities. You both cling to each other, sweat dripping from both your foreheads, listening to each others gasping breaths.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you and I’m sorry it happened,” Arvin says after a moment. “I know my temper scares you and in all honesty, it scares me too. I am terrified of losin’ you and that’s why I didn’t say anything.”

“Keepin’ things from me only makes it worse,” you sigh, looking down at him.

“I promise I won’t keep anythin’ from you ever again, but you can’t leave me. I wouldn’t be able to handle it if you did,” he confesses meeting your gaze.

“I’m ain’t goin’ anywhere, Arvin,” you promise before pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

“I love you.”

“And I love you.”

You both stay like that for a moment later, before you both reluctantly decide it’s best for you both to get some sleep instead of going for another round. He cleans you up with his old white t-shirt before laying down one of the blankets and handing you the other to wrap yourself up in. He uses his denim button up and your dress as makeshift pillows for the both of you as you lay down. You open up the blanket just a bit for him to get under, closer to you.

As you start to drift into dreamland you faintly hear Arvin whispering things to you. You want to ask him what he’s saying, but you’re too tired. Right before you lose consciousness, you faintly hear “there ain’t a thing I wouldn’t do for you. I will always love you and I will always protect you.”

You succumb to darkness knowing that no matter what the future holds, it’ll be fine. As long as you’re with Arvin, nothing could ever be wrong.

**

You’re awoken by Arvin planting soft kisses up and down your cheek. You laugh and roll over into him, laying your head on his chest and arms across his waist.

“Five more minutes,” you smile and he laughs.

“I’m gonna be in enough trouble as it is, besides, I told my grandma I’d help her and Lenora set up for that thing today.”

“Fine fine,” you sigh, finally opening your eyes and looking up at him. The way the sunlight is hitting his eyes has your heart melting. “You are so beautiful.”

“You’re one to talk,” he laughs before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

You both take your time getting up and dressed, enjoying the silence of the early morning. Arvin throws his t-shirt in the backseat as you settle into the passenger side and buckle up. As he starts his truck you think you see someone coming, but when you look again, they’re gone and Arvin is quickly pulling away.

He reluctantly drops you off at Linda’s diner, but promises to see you later and kisses you deeply before pulling off.

You feel like you’re on a cloud the whole day. You don’t even get irritated when your Mama starts questioning why you’ve been sleeping over your friends so often. You tell her that with the way her and Daddy have been arguing lately, you just think it’s better to spend as little time as possible there. She wants to press the matter further, but the store is extremely busy and there’s no time.

However, your good day comes an end at about 6 in the evening, when your Mama gets a call at the shop. Lenora hung herself earlier in the day and Arvin was the one who found her.

You can’t stop yourself as you grab the keys to the truck and run out the store. You need to see him. You need to be there for him. You know your parents are in the car behind you, probably wondering what in the sam-hell is wrong with you, but you don’t care. Nothing else matters except Arvin.

When you finally get to his grandmother’s house, his Uncle is sitting on the chair on the front porch. “He’s in his room,” he says in the most somber tone you’ve ever heard. When he sees the guilt in your eyes he quickly waives his hand. “He needs you.”

You nod before running into the house. When you open the door to his room, the scene in front of you breaks your heart. “Baby?”

Arvin looks up at you with tear shot eyes, tears still streaming down his face. “I should’ve been here,” he whimpers through his cries.

“Baby no,” you coo, running over to him and wrapping your arms around him.

“I should’ve been here,” he sobs again, wrapping his arms around you.

“You didn’t know, Arvin. There was no way to know,” you respond, your own tears gently dropping now.

Your Mama comes to his doorway, ready to yell at you for the inappropriate outburst and current scene in front of her, but all of that changes when she sees him holding you and crying hard.

No one protests when you tell them you’re going to stay the night. You’re his only comfort and your parents just don’t feel right making you leave his side.

“I’ll never forgive myself,” he sobs, as you both lay in his bed at night, with your head resting on his chest.

“Baby, that’s not what Lenora would want. You took such good care of her and loved her so much. She isn’t blaming any of this on you,” you say softly, trying to calm him.

“Thank you for being here with me tonight,” he sniffs, looking down at you and pressing a soft kiss to your head.

“As if I’d be anywhere else,” you respond softly, looking up to meet his mournful gaze.

You both slowly fall asleep to the sounds of his soft sobs, your heart both heavy with guilt and mourning.

**

2 months later

In the days that followed Lenora’s death, you did your best to comfort Arvin. You were more sure than ever that your parents had pieced together that you two were together, but you didn’t have it in you to give much of a shit. Arvin was doing his best to hold it together and you were doing your best to be there for him. If that meant pissing off your Mama, then so be it. You only had a month or so left until you and Arvin could get married anyway.

Arvin lost interest in school and eventually just stopped coming. He quit his job at the gas station and became a carpenter. He told you that it was because he needed to save up money for a proper place for the both of you, but you knew better. He couldn’t take going to that school and not seeing Lenora all while being forced around the people who tormented her the worst. You knew he’d lose control.

He was doing his best to keep his temper at bay, but the more time went on, the more he found out information that made him want to do things he knew better than to do.

He was desperately trying to keep his promise to you.

“She was pregnant!” he yelled after you got into his car one day, picking you up from Sarah’s house.

“What?”

“Lenora was pregnant, and I bet you anythin’ it was that son of a bitch Preston!”

“Arvin-”

“I know, Y/N. I know it was him and I bet you anythin’ she told him!”

“How do you know she was pregnant?”

“Officer Meyers told me when I got back from work.”

“Shit,” you muttered, running a hand through your hair. “Arvin-”

“If I just wanted to leave with you one day, would you go?”

“What?”

“If I just came to get you one night...would you come with me?”

“You know I would.”

“You sure? You could just pick up and leave?”

“What are you-”

“Are you sure you could? It’s a lot to ask and I know-”

“Arvin, I would go anywhere for you.”

“I love you,” he sighed as pulled up to your house, you both finding your Mama standing on the porch, hands on her hips. “Shit.”

“I’ll deal with her, don’t worry about it. You go home and try to rest. I love you,” you smiled before getting out of the car.

You slowly made your way up the walk way, feeling small under the intensity of your mother’s gaze. “Goodnight Y/N,” Arvin called from his car. “You too ma’am,” he motioned towards your Mama.

“You get home safe, Arvin. My prayers and well wishes to your grandmother,” she responded, not taking her eyes off of you.

The minute you two got into the house, she laid into you.

“You’re sleepin’ with that boy!” she yelled as soon as she closed the door behind her.

“Mama, I’m not-”

“Don’t you dare lie to your Mama, girl,” she warned, following you into the kitchen. “Mr. Higgins told me he saw Arvin leavin’ his cornfield the day Lenora hung herself. He said there was a girl in his car and he’s pretty sure he it was you! Everyone sees you both around town all the time! I know what-”

“You don’t know anythin’, Mama! You just don’t like him!”

“He’s gonna get you pregnant and ruin your life!”

“Just like Daddy got you pregnant and ruined yours?!”

“You’re too young for-”

“I’m graduatin’ in a few months, Mama! I’m graduatin’ and gettin’ the hell out of here!”

“And just where do you think you’re goin’?! College?!”

“Anywhere is better than here!” you yelled, tears coming down your face.

“You’ll see! When that boy ruins your life, you’ll come back cryin’!” she yelled up the steps after you.

The only issue? You had lied to her. You were pregnant. You had planned to tell Arvin when he picked you up from Sarah’s, but he was already so fired up.  You telling him that after he had just told you Lenora was pregnant when she killed herself was definitely not in your best interest.

You went to bed that night telling yourself that you’d tell Arvin the next day.

However, you didn’t see him the next day, or the day after that, or after that.

You went a week without seeing him before you heard. Pastor Preston had been killed, Arvin was responsible, and he’d fled town. You didn’t want to believe it, but in your heart and in your gut you knew it was true. You cried yourself to sleep that night, because somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew it was only a matter of time before it happened.

You few days later, you heard Sheriff Bodecker’s sister and her husband had been killed. Both had been shot to death. There was a terrible feeling in your stomach that told you Arvin was responsible. However, you knew him and you knew there had to be a reason. Arvin may have been hot headed, but he wouldn’t have flown off the handle (let alone murder two people) without a reason.

A few days later, it was announced that Sheriff Bodecker was killed, with photos of what his sister and her husband been up to found at the scene. You could feel it in your bones that Arvin was responsible for that too, based on where they found Bodecker.

You wanted to be angry with him. You wanted to hate him. But you couldn’t. Arvin was your best friend. Your soul mate. You couldn’t just turn that off, even with knowing what he was capable of.

The same thoughts were racking your brain that had been for 2 months. Arvin was gone and graduation was two weeks away. Since you’re only 2 months pregnant, it’s easy enough to hide the truth, and you want to keep it that way. No one in this dead end town needs to know.

You have enough money saved for you to get out and move away, but you’d need to work forever to support yourself and the baby. It would be worth it though. You’d be free of this town and all of its ghosts.

“Y/N?” a deep voice asks, creeping into your room, causing you to jump.

“Arvin?! What the fuck?!” you whisper yell, forcing yourself to sit up.

“I know, I know I have so much to explain, but we have to go. And now,” he sighs, frantically searching your room, probably looking for a bag to pack some clothes in.

“What the...no! You don’t just get to come back here after months of being gone and just expect me to leave with you!”

“Baby, I know-”

“Don’t fucking ‘baby’ me! You shot and killed a man, then ran off, killed more people, and then just fucking kept going! You left me!”

“I had to!” he sighs, finally finding a bag, despite you telling him no. “If I would’ve gotten caught and you’d been with me, they would’ve thought you had something to do with it!”

“Arvin-”

“I got us a place and I fixed it up nice! It’s far from here, but it’s ours. It’s our home. I’m riskin’ everythin’ to be here right now, but you’re worth it. You’re worth everythin’ and I-”

“I’m pregnant, Arvin,” you admit softly.

That had him stopping in his tracks.

“What?”

“I’m two months pregnant,” you repeat, turning your gaze away from him.

“Baby, that’s great!” he gushes, dropping the bag and rushing to your side. “We can-”

“Arvin, you’re a wanted man. We can’t just leave like nothin’ happened.”

“Why can’t we? Why can’t we just start our lives together?”

“Because we’re still kids ourselves! Because you murdered 4 people! You’re a murderer and-”

“I promise that I’ll explain all of it in the car, just please come with me,” he begs desperately.

You don’t know why you tried to fight it, because there’s really only way this is going to go.

You get up and quietly start getting dressed while Arvin resumes packing your clothes. You watch him pack the few trinkets that actually mean something to you, before grabbing they money you’ve been saving over the years while working for your parents. You take a look around your room and sigh.

This is the last time you’re ever going to be in it.

You both quietly make your way down the steps and you stop to leave a note for your parents on the notepad on the kitchen counter. When you get outside, Arvin helps you inside the pickup truck. He quietly closes the door and runs over to his side, quickly closing his door and driving off.

He starts talking about everything that happened, while you watch your parents house become smaller and smaller in the rear-view mirror, coming to terms with the choice that you’ve made and the new life you’re about to begin.

“As for Bodecker’s sister, I didn’t know-”

“I don’t wanna talk about that now, Arvin,” you sigh, deciding that all of it could wait for another day. “Tell me about our place.”

“You wanna hear about...that?” he asks, tone of surprise very apparent.

“I wanna hear about our future, our home, our life together,” you softly smile, looking over at him and taking his free hand in yours.

“I love you, Y/N.”

“& I love you, Arvin,” you hum.

As he drives on, you listen happily and force your worries out of your mind. You couldn’t leave Arvin. You couldn’t leave him and you wouldn’t. Arvin could be walking into depths of hell and you’d be right there beside him, holding his hand. You’d follow him anywhere, even into the dark.

#asks #One Shots #arvin russel x reader #arvin russel fluff #arvin russel angst #arvin russel x y/n #The Devil All The Time #Tom Holland #Arvin Eugene Russell #Lee Bodecker #Sheriff Bodecker #Fanfic #fanfiction #fan fiction #fan fic #fan fic writer #fan fic smut #Fan Fic Fluff #Request

[blindingdutchy]

golf groupie | t.holland

{frat!golf!tom x sorority!reader}

summary: the last thing tom holland needs is to have his massive ego stroked, but when you lose a bet and are forced to play the role of his biggest fan... maybe his cockiness isn't always so bad.

word count: 10,483

warnings: smut! enemies to fuckers. like the tiniest bit of angst/fluff if you squint? alcohol, vague descriptions of golf because i'm bad at it, tom and y/n being insufferable. language. explicit warnings below divide.

18+!!! minors stay away!

here it is, a whole day late because i'm fucking garbage!

warnings: oral (m receiving), fingering (f receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it up, folks. don't be like these two). cocky!tom! praise kink (m receiving).

The atmosphere in the party is thick, palpable even. The air, clouded with smoke and haze from who knows how many substances, no longer feels exciting and electric—it feels suffocating. Discreetly, or as inconspicuously as possible in your drunken state, you wipe the back of your hand across your brow to clear the sweat that has collected there.

“Sometime today would be nice, (Y/N).”

Your brows furrow in frustration, a haughty glare marring the features of your face as you tear your gaze away from the table to face Tom. Tom Holland, also known as the president of the Alpha Psi Omega fraternity chapter at your university, and also known as the bane of your existence. His smirk is equally as heated as your scowl, and you can see it in the way his brown eyes twinkle that he has you exactly where he wants you… sweaty, stressed, and frustrated.

It’s hard to say just how the rivalry between the two of you began, and even harder for you to pinpoint when exactly the ever present feelings of resentment you harbored for the man first blossomed. Some part of you feels as though you’ve always hated him, but the fiery heat that always blossoms in every part of your body in his present isn’t like any distaste you’ve ever felt before. It’s complicated, confusing, and nothing like the way you hated Maggie Harper back in your home town. She’s the only other person you’ve known, without a doubt, that you hated.

Perhaps the tension between you and Tom is due to your mutual competitiveness. As much as it pains you to acknowledge, and as much as everyone else loves to point out, Tom and yourself are like two sides of the same coin. You both strive to be the life of the party, the center of attention, and Tom would do anything to outshine you in any way that he can. You’d do much the same, though.

Your earliest memory of the rivalry between the two of you takes you back to your freshman year, three—nearly four—years prior. You had been auditioning for the spring theater production, in which Tom had already scored the starring role. It had been quite the accomplishment for a freshman, and that same man had singlehandedly crushed your own dreams that day. Oh, how na��ve you’d been, so bright eyed and ready to take on the world.

It had come down to just you and one other woman, a senior who’d starred as the leading role in each production for the past two years. Despite the strong chance that you’d be beat out, you were prepared. For weeks you had practiced relentlessly, perfecting your monologues and lines down to the last breath. When it came time to do the final audition—a reading opposite Tom—you swallowed down your nerves and gave the performance of your life.

Penelope, your competition for the part, had delivered a compelling read herself. Even you had found yourself holding back tears at her beautiful performance, but you felt it in your bones that the role was yours. The other cast and the theater director herself had been openly weeping following your performance, and you truly felt as if the chemistry between yourself and Tom was undeniable.

But, then the impossible happened. Penelope had snagged the role, and it wasn’t until later that you found out why. A friend of yours had been given one of the minor roles and had been present for the decision making process. That was how you learned that Tom had been the deciding factor, astonishing the director when he’d chosen Penelope without a moment’s hesitation. You had pretended it didn’t hurt when you’d spotted them hanging all over each other for weeks after that, but it did. He’d chosen her for his own personal motives.

A ping pong ball assaulting your forehead is what finally brings you back to the present, and your hand flings to your face as you gasp in surprise. “Tom, what the fuck?” you hiss, but he only laughs.

“Are you gonna make the shot or not, sweetheart?” he taunts, and you ignore the way the pet name makes you shiver in favor of the way his smirk makes your blood boil, “Scared? Afraid to lose in front of everyone?”

Two red cups remain standing on the long table. One close to Tom’s end, one of the few from the back row that had been alluding you throughout the entire game, and one more on your end. The ball you’ve been holding for the past few minutes is damp and slippery, and you’re not sure if it’s from being repeatedly dunked in beer or if it’s because your hands are sweaty with anxiety. A crowd surrounds you, an amalgamation of Tom’s frat brothers and your own sorority sisters, and for once all eyes being on you doesn’t fill you with pride.

Scoffing, you square your shoulders and widen your stance as you snarl, “You wish, Holland.” His smirk only widens, brown eyes following your every move with an amount of intensity that only causes the sweat on your brown to worsen.

If you miss, then Tom has the opportunity to win it all. You’d been leading by a lone cup nearly the entire game, courtesy of a busty party-girl distracting him during one of his earlier shots, and now the two of you are on equal ground. He’d managed to sink two cups on his last throw—the ball bouncing the beer in one cup to another before you could catch it—and no longer are you feeling quite so confident in yourself.

With a deep breath and an annoying ringing in your ear, you pull your hand back and squint your eyes at his cup. The nearly weightless white ball glides through the air and hits the rim of his cup, your heart stalling in your chest, but he catches it from its spin around the rim before it can hit the beer beneath. Fuck, your stomach twists as you meet his arrogant gaze once more.

“Are you ready to see me win?” he goads once more, and all at once the rage in your belly seems to take over.

Normally, you’d know better than to challenge Tom Holland. The man only ever seems to strengthen in the face of adversity, stepping up to any challenge that comes his way with a level of certainty that makes you nauseous, but the spite on your tongue is impossible to hold back. “Wanna bet?” you snipe, and he puffs his chest with raised brows, “If you miss, then you have to let me shave your head at the sorority raffle next month.”

For a moment, a fraction of a second so fast that you nearly miss it, his smirk morphs into a grimace and his eyes flash with fear. But, Tom is quick to correct himself as the crowd around you both ooh’s and aah’s with excitement. “Fine,” he shrugs, licking his lips with a chuckle that warns you of bad things to come, “but, when I win, you have to come to the state championship next week as my biggest fan.”

“Fine.” you shrug, though internally bile is creeping up your throat at the very idea.

Tom grins, “Fine.”

And then, like something out of a movie, he cocks his arm and throws blindly. The ball sinks into your cup instantly, not even touching the rim, and for a moment you think your knees have given out with the way the floor rocks beneath you. You’re still standing, though, and the floor is creaking wildly under the ravenous crowd jumping on Tom who stares you down as if you’re the only person in the world. You can’t even hear the raucous cheering, that ringing filling your ears until it sounds like white noise, and you can’t look away. Even as the cup is held to your lips and beer is forced down your throat like a fucked up water board, you remain trapped in Tom’s stare.

What have you done?

⁑⁑⁑

There’s not much in the way of entertainment that brings you quite as much joy as getting under Tom Holland’s skin. In the few years that you’ve known him, you’ve come to realize more than just a few things. Firstly, despite his uncanny ability to rise to any challenge and come out on top, Tom’s temper is about as short as they come. Secondly, nobody else seems to be as apt to getting him all hot and bothered as you are.

And, thirdly? Well, thirdly, you get a peculiar amount of joy from watching him squirm. One simple push of his buttons from you, and suddenly Tom is a whole other man—gone is the devilish charm and quick wit, so quickly replaced with fiery scowls and rumbling growls. He’s enticing in that way, exciting even.

Maybe you’re just sadistic, or perhaps just a bit unhinged to relish in his unraveling like you do, but who’s to say? You know, better than anyone, that Tom gets that same sick satisfaction from you. It’s the world’s weirdest game of cat and mouse. Hell, the two of you could probably give Tom the cat and Jerry the mouse a run for their money with your reckless antics.

For example, right now Tom’s jaw is so tense you’re almost convinced you can hear the faintly audible crackle and grind of his teeth over the distant chatter of his fellow golfers. His eyes are dark, so dark you can barely discern the familiar amber twinkle of his molten irises anymore, and they laser focused on you. Or, well, on your outfit.

As much as you love the thrill of having all eyes on you, you have to admit that in this moment… you’re more than satisfied with the intense beam of Tom’s eyes alone. Patiently you wait for him to approach, his steps harsh and calculated stomps against the asphalt of the parking lot, and your smirk only widens at the sight of his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. Oh, he’s pissed, and you are loving it.

“What the fuck are you wearing?” he seethes, accent thickening in his fit of rage, and it only makes you all the happier.

Feigning innocence, you blink at him and flick the hem of your skirt playfully as you say, “What, you don’t like it, Tommy?”

Button Number One: Tom absolutely despises it when you call him Tommy. His jaw ticks, his eyes flash, and your belly twists into gleeful knots at the sight of it. He almost makes it too easy, really, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

In the distance you can make out the all too pleased faces of his teammates and straggling fraternity brothers. A small group of them remains outside the bus, their eyes trained on the pair of you with amused smirks and raucous laughter. They’re whispering—but you have a pretty good idea as to what they’re talking about.

You wonder briefly if Tom knows his eye is twitching, but his voice is far from a tremor as he demands, “Where’s the stuff I gave you? You lost the bet, (Y/N), and you were supposed to—“

“Oh, calm down, Tom,” you sigh, and bite back a laugh at the way he pinches his nose in utter frustration, “I just made a few… improvements.”

It’s true. You had made a few improvements to the cheap outfit and poster that Tom had given you the night prior, when he’d shown up unannounced to your sorority house un the middle of the night. Just when you’d been about ready to admit defeat, consumed with anxiety and embarrassment over the day that lay ahead of you… Tom had pushed just the right button to get you fired up again.

The door to your room burst open unexpectedly, and you’d barely had time to snap your robe shut before Tom came stalking into the tiny bedroom with a devilish grin and a mischievous twinkle in his eye. If anything, the glimmer had only intensified at the startled gasp you’d let out and the way you clutched your satin robe even tighter to your nude body in astonishment.

In his hands, he carried a plastic sack that rustled loudly and a gruesomely tragic attempt at a poster, two of the corners bent and creased from a lack of care over the flimsy board. You glared at him, snapping, “What are you doing in my room?”

“Right, we have a few things to go over, sweetheart.” Was all he said, that usual cheeky smirk splitting his cheeks as he made himself at home in your room. All you could do was groan as he plopped his still shoe clad feet onto your bed as he flopped onto the mattress, before he continued, “I’ve taken the creative liberty with your shirt, since you so nicely informed me you didn’t give a fuck about it.”

Indignantly, you tried to protest, “I did not say—“

“You said, and I’m quoting here, darling, I don’t give a fuck about the goddamn shirt, Tom! Leave me alone!” Tom pitched his voice higher in an attempt to mock you, the action causing your face to heat up and your lips to curl in a snarl. Nevertheless, he goaded, “Sound familiar? Anyhow, I come bearing gifts.”

It was ridiculous how easily he caused your blood to boil, how easily he made your skin crawl, how easily he made your heart race—wait, scratch that last one. It was just the rage and adrenaline causing heart palpitations, surely. You wondered, sometimes, if he felt all of the weird little things you felt when the two of you went head to head like this. Did he feel as if he were at the peak of a mountain, struggling to breathe and jittery with anticipation of the unknown?

Surely, not. Tom Holland probably felt only resolute hatred for you, if his actions told you anything at all. Though, you did wonder if any other person made his cheeks go red like you seemed to. Did anyone else seem to fluster him so easily?

Tom cleared his throat, bringing you out of your silent reverie as you were presented with the shirt in question. It was small—at least two sizes smaller than what you’d told him. It wasn’t the size that made you bare your teeth in a spiteful hiss, though. No, it was the god awful photograph of himself emblazoned boldly across it. Was that… was that a headshot?

Taking your grimace of disgust in stride, the man grinned and dumped the cheap article onto your floor before rifling through the plastic sack once more to retrieve a skirt. “Can’t forget the golf skirt, of course,” he hummed, looking far too pleased with himself as you groaned at the sight, “I took a guess on the size.”

If the shirt was anything to go off of, you were almost certain it wouldn’t fit. “You’re a little too happy about all of this, Tommy.” You grumbled. At least there was a brief respite of satisfaction for you in seeing the familiar way his eye twitched at the name.

You really weren’t all that sure as to why it bothered him so much, but you didn’t really care either. Nothing was off limits when it came to the two of you. Well, maybe except true public humiliation; the two of you may have gotten a kick out of riling each other up before a crowd, but there were some things that might have gone too far. You hadn’t figured them out, yet, but surely you would eventually.

“Just pleased to see you finally admitting the truth, sweetheart.” Tom cooed.

The truth? Did he mean… “Oh, come off it, Tom.” You scoffed, but he only beamed back at you cheekily, “You wish!”

His eye dropped in a lazy wink, “It’s okay to be honest with yourself, (Y/N). I can’t blame you for falling in love with me—“

“Oh, just get to the point, Tom!” you snapped, ignoring his laughter at the way your temper flared, “Finish your little show so I can go to bed.”

If you had thought that the shirt was bad, it was nothing compared to the sign. Tom showed it off to you as if it were a masterpiece, but you could only compare it to the likes of a six year old’s arts and crafts project. Big block letters spelled out, Go Tom! And somehow, someway, he’d managed to run out of space for the five letters. It was embarrassing, really, how terrible it was.

Tom showed it off to you as if it were a masterpiece, but you could only compare it to the likes of a six year old’s arts and crafts project. Big block letters spelled out, Go Tom! And somehow, someway, he’d managed to run out of space for the five letters. It was embarrassing, really, how terrible it was.

You could deal with the stupid shirt. You could deal with the ugly golf skirt. But that sign? Hell no. There was no way you would be caught dead holding that sign—it brought you discomfort to even keep it in your presence.

Which, was why you’d torn it to shreds the moment Tom had finally dragged himself out of your private space. After a lot of screaming, and a bit of crying, you sat amidst the shreds of the poster and dreaded the day to come. You were meant to follow the university bus to the golf course bright and early the next morning, and for a moment you truly considered just not showing up.

What would he have done? Come and retrieved you from the sorority house? Dragged you to the course kicking and screaming? No, no, Tom wouldn’t have done that. But, you knew that if you didn’t show it would give him all the ammunition he needed to torment you for the foreseeable future. Not showing up would show that he’d finally, truly beat you, and you wouldn’t stand for that.

No, you couldn’t let him beat you again, let him see that he’d truly won and pushed you past your limit. If you wanted to come away from that day with your pride intact, then you would have to show Tom that you could beat him at his own game. And, what better way to do that, than to make him squirm by doing exactly what he’d asked of you?

If Tom Holland wanted a super-fan, then a super-fan he would get.

“You call those improvements?” Tom scoffed, and you shrugged, “I spent money on that shirt, (Y/N), where the hell is it?”

Gone is the t-shirt with the awful photograph of his face. In truth, it never would have seen the light of day even if you had liked it—the fabric was too thin and the fit too tight on your body to be worn in public. Plus, your breasts had stretched his face beyond recognition… on second thought, perhaps that would have been fairly amusing.

Instead, you’re wearing a simple shirt you’d made with the words Go Tommy! Expertly written in perfect sizing across the front. You’d been sure to measure for accuracy. The golf skirt miraculously fits well, and so you at least can say that you’d followed one bit of his instructions. And the sign? Well, you’d taken your own creative liberties (and your sorority sister’s scrapbooking supplies).

A bigger, brighter, better neon poster board is crisply rolled in your hand to be revealed only once you arrive at the golf course. You’d spent far longer than you’d like to admit printing photos from his social media, and a few from your own, to be cut apart and pasted on the board. You couldn’t wait to see the look on his face when he would see the way you’d pasted photos of yourself next to him.

Pouting teasingly, you whine, “It was too small, Tommy. Stretched your face all out and made you look even uglier.”

Button Number Two: insulting his appearance always gets him going. Tom’s cheeks redden and his hands shake as he raises them to his face, pulling at his hair as If he is attempting to keep himself from truly losing his cool. Oh, he really makes it all worth it with his reactions.

The bus honks, and one of his teammates calls out for him to hurry up, and the moment is over. He gives you one last bitter glare over his shoulder as he snarls, “Stick to the deal, (Y/N), or else. You lost the bet, so deal with it.”

“Oh, I’ll deal with it, alright,” you smirk, “don’t you worry, Tommy. I’ll be the best super-fan in the world.”

⁑⁑⁑

Golf is, without a doubt, the most boring sport on the face of the planet. Despite the forced, nearly crazed smile that splits your cheeks and the proud way you tote around the neon-pink poster in your hands, you can barely focus on anything anymore. Your feet hurt from walking the course, your back aches from straining to be sure you’re never out of Tom’s line of sight, and your throat is going raw from the manic cheers you hoot whenever the crowd applauds for Tom.

If the embarrassment on Tom’s face hadn’t been so amusing to see, you would have been far more embarrassed for yourself. It takes everything in you not to cower away from the shameful glares of the unsuspecting victims around you, most of them none the wiser of just why you’re acting the way you are. But, Tom’s cheeks are permanently painted pink, and if the way he chews on his lips tells you anything, he’s positively sweating.

But the thing that really throws you for a loop and leaves you feeling breathless? You can’t seem to drag your eyes away from the man, and not because your little scheme is very clearly working. For once—okay, for once that you’re unable to deny—you’re not watching Tom purely out of malice. Not entirely, anyways.

No, your eyes are practically glued to his form. The obviously toned planes of his body under his ridiculously tight polo and grey pants. Has his ass always been so… defined? Have his arms always looked so strong, so perfect to wrap you up and—

Biting hard on your tongue, you inhale sharply as you realize exactly what is so different about the way Tom makes you feel in comparison to how Maggie Harper did. With Maggie, the disgust and hatred had been clear and blatant in your mind. Sharp, unyielding, unforgiving. But, with Tom? It’s always been a muddied mess of butterflies and hornets in your guts.

Oh, fuck, you think Tom is hot!

You think Tom is hot, and you can’t deny that if there’s anything interesting at all about golf, it’s him. It’s obvious why he’s made it to the state championship, and why the whole school has been buzzing about his practically guaranteed win. He’s good—good enough that even you can tell, and a weird bubble of pride swells in your chest.

He’s hot, he’s definitely going to win, and maybe being his super fan isn’t the most embarrassing thing. After all, you could have come as the loser’s super fan… What the hell is going on with you?

Tom’s eyes meet yours as the crowd claps for him once more, respectfully, and yet you’re silent. All day he’d been avoiding your gaze, but now that you’re quiet? He can tell that something is bothering you, and that little smirk slowly starts to stretch across his perfect, pink—his stupid lips again!

His eyes are twinkling with a certain kind of fire you’ve never seen in them before, and it makes your heart race. Your palms are sweaty, your skin on fire, and your lungs burning. A war is waging in your body at the sight. Does he know? He winks, and you know that he definitely knows.

The rest of the tournament is a blur. Hole after hole, applause after applause, your mind is swimming in the clouds. You’re here, but you’re a million miles away as you struggle to make sense of all of the conflicting thoughts and feelings within you. One thing you’re certain of, is that you definitely don’t like Tom. You think he’s insufferable, and a petty part of you will never forgive him for the Penelope incident, but you also can’t help the way your mouth waters at the obscene ripple of muscle in his biceps each time he swings his club. You can’t help the way your eyes gravitate toward the cling of his polo to his torso, or the strain of his pants around his thighs. You’d be lying if you said you never thought of it before.

It’s pretty undeniable that Tom is attractive, objectively, but never before has it at the forefront of your mind. Maybe that’s what amuses you the most at how sensitive he seems to be when it comes to you insulting his appearance, because you know damn well that Tom Holland knows he is attractive. Or, maybe he just hates the fact that you seem to be the only woman on campus who doesn’t fawn over him.

But, now? Now there’s no denying that you are completely enraptured with his appearance, bordering on drooling over him, and he’s eating it up like a starved man. Your cheers have silenced in favor of clapping, much to the relief of the rest of the audience, and your eyes are constantly meeting his each and every time he looks over at you.

The arrogant quirk of his lips makes your blood boil in more ways than one. It makes you melt like a hormonal teenager, but it also flares that indignant fury within the pit of your belly. You hate him so, so, so much, and you hate the stupid way you want to put your hands on him in a completely non-violent way even more.

You hate the way you aren’t faking it when you cheer over his championship. You hate the way your shouts aren’t forced or teasing, but earnest and full of pride as you applaud him. You hate the way he grins at you and for once doesn’t have a hidden message behind those brown eyes. And, you really, really hate the way you hug him in front of everyone and like the way it feels.

“Wait for me outside the changing rooms.” He whispers for only you to hear, and you really fucking hate the shiver that racks down your body at the way his lips brush the shell of your ear. You especially hate the way you do exactly as he asks, and you don’t hate doing it one bit.

⁑⁑⁑

Waiting for Tom is exactly what you need to get yourself in check. In fact, the longer you wait, the more you feel your annoyance toward the man seep back through your veins—or, maybe that’s just because you’ve been sitting on the concrete for so long your butt has long gone numb. The crowd has dwindled down to practically nothing, and you’re starting to wonder if maybe this was Tom’s plan all along.

How long would you wait for him? How long would you sit, all alone, before you realized that he wasn’t coming and had probably snuck out some back door to laugh his way back to campus on the bus? A hot flare of anger bubbles through you at the thought, and you get up with a bitter scoff that makes your throat ache.

You should have seen it coming. All over again you’re reminded of that day three years in the past, reminded of the shame and embarrassment you had felt because of Tom fucking Holland. The punishment was never about you making a fool of yourself in front of the crowd—like always, Tom’s found yet another way to remind you that you’re a complete sucker for him and he knows it.

Swiping some imaginary dirt from your skirt, you angrily crumple the poster that you’d discarded onto the ground beside you and stuff it into a nearby trash can. Stupid, stupid, stupid! Tom may be an asshole, but at least he isn’t an idiot like you are—

“What did that poster ever do to you?”

Yelping at the sudden sound of Tom’s voice, you snap away from the garbage can you’d been fighting with as if it had electrocuted you. And, there he is, in all his glory. He’s still wearing the polo and pants, and he’s standing just inside the doorway to the changing rooms, and you’re wondering what the hell he’s been doing for the past hour and a half to keep you waiting.

Tom’s eyes are crinkled at the corners as he grins in amusement, appraising the half-hearted way your poster hangs over the top of the trash can, and your tongue is sharp as you hiss, “You sure took your sweet time. Congratulations, idiot, you missed the bus!”

His nostrils flare and he narrows his eyes at you, quirking that ridiculous messy brow of his as he snaps back, “I know, I asked you to wait because I was going to ride back to campus with you, sweetheart.”

There’s a lilt in his tone as he sneers the pet name that’s been coined yours and yours alone, and it only grates at you all the more in this moment. Why does he call you that? Why does he insist on calling you sweet names when his intentions are anything but? You hate him, and you hate that you secretly love the way the name sounds each time it slides off his tongue.

“And what if I don’t want you to, Tommy?” you taunt, hands on your hips and posture wide in defiance, “What if I just leave you here? I’ve already fulfilled my end of the deal, I’ve done my punishment—“

Button Number Three: Tom absolutely hates it when you deny him, and just like that, you watch as his temper begins to come unglued. “You’re a bloody insufferable little witch, you know that?” he grits out, jaw working overtime as he steps up to you, “Just when I thought you were finally going to drop this pathetic little act of yours, you just have to go and remind me that you’ll never change! You’re always going to be a—“

Your hands jump to life before your mind does, and he grunts as you shove him childishly. It’s a weak push, one that barely causes him to stumble, but it’s more than enough to show him that he’s got you exactly where he wants you. His mouth snaps shut and his eyes are trained heatedly onto you as you clench your fists and lock your knees indignantly. “I’m always going to be a what, Tom? A bitch?” There’s no playful fight in your tone this time; you’re pissed, and he can see it.

He loves it. It’s obvious from the way his eyes light up despite the stoic pinch of his brow. In a flash of movement that leaves you dazed and spinning, his hand clamps around your arm and drags you into the darkened changing room. It’s empty, and most of the lights are turned off, and it’s alarmingly quiet.

You’re alone with him, and you’re not sure whether you’re excited or terrified at the thought. The change in lighting from the blinding glare of the sun to the dim, near-darkness of the room has your eyes unfocussed and you blink rapidly to try and clear your vision. “What the hell are you doing, Tom?” you demand, and he laughs. The sound is distant, letting you know that he’s drifted away from you and further into the room.

“Just making sure you don’t leave me stranded, sweetheart.” He teases, and now your eye is twitching.

Following the sound of his voice, you make your way through the darkened rows of wooden lockers. A few times you bang your knees off of poorly placed benches (or, benches you’re still struggling to make out in the dim lighting, rather) and your grunts only make him chuckle in amusement. Your legs are aching and your temper is sufficiently frazzled by the time you find him, but in an instant your vision is sharper than ever and the air is sucked from your lungs.

Tom’s shirt is off, and you’re greeted by the sight of his bare back flexing as he works at the buckle of his belt deliberately. “God, are you really changing with me in here?” you gasp, and he peers at you from over his shoulder with a smirk. “What the hell were you doing all this time?”

He turns to face you and continues with removing his belt, shrugging nonchalantly, “Making you sweat. Have to admit, I expected you’d have left.” You knew it! “So, why’d you wait?”

The button of his pants pops open easily, and your breath hitches as he unzips them without a care. You swallow thickly, eyes glued to the strong hands that curl around the fabric of his pants, and you have to turn your head as he begins to pull them down. “I don’t know.” You mutter, growing hot under his gaze as your ears are trained on the sound of his trousers hitting the floor.

His chuckle is playful and gives you chills. “You don’t know?” Tom muses, “Didn’t want to stick around to congratulate me?”

“No.” you grumble, and you clench your eyes shut in frustration at the weak retort. That’s it? Where the hell has your fire gone? It’s ridiculously to keep your resolve when you know that he’s practically naked, mere feet away from you, and you’re not sure whether hatred is what’s fueled the feud between the two of you for so long.

Is it hatred? Or is it a weird, toxic sort of sexual tension? Does he feel it too?

Tom’s voice is much closer as he hums, “No?” His hand is gentle, but firm, as he grips your chin and turns your head back to face him. You know he can see the way your eyes flicker down to his bare chest for just a moment, and he cocks his head goadingly, “That’s not very nice of you, (Y/N). I almost thought you were enjoying it, what with how hard you were staring at me—were you?”

“No.”

You’re made. The not-so-subtle crack of your voice is a blazing sign screaming that you’re lying, and he catches his lip between his teeth to stifle the laugh the rips through his chest. He’s so close, his hand still holding your chin, and your resolve is in shambles around you.

His tone is husky as he repeats his words from the previous night, “It’s okay to be honest with yourself, (Y/N), we both know you were.”

Hook, line, and sinker, he’s caught you in his trap. You’re not entirely sure who’s the first to move, but your movements are frantic as you meet him in the middle to crush your lips to his, and fuck. His lips are soft, yet hard and unyielding as he bores down on you with just as much force and desperation. Your head is spinning and your lungs feel like they’ve collapsed under the weight of his kiss, and you hate the way you never want it to end.

Lips gliding over lips, teeth clashing, and his grip on your jaw has gone from a tender hold to a bruising squeeze as he holds you in place. You’re panting, gasping out hot breaths into his mouth as he parts his lips and breathes you in. Tom groans as your hands leave your sides to clutch his shoulders, clinging to him out of a fear of your knees giving out.

Your head falls back as he drags his hot and heavy lips away from your mouth, trailing wet and sloppy kisses over your jaw before he’s whispering in your ear, “I want to hear you say it, sweetheart.” Gritting your teeth, you shake your head indignantly and he growls under his breath, “Say it.”

Tom’s still working at your neck, his lips sealing around your tender skin as he sucks hard to leave his mark—a mark you’re certain will not fade for days, regardless of how many frozen spoons you might hold to it in the night. It’s not until his teeth nip at your flesh that you start to truly give in, a pitiful whine escaping you as you dig your fingernails into his shoulders, “Tom—“

He clicks his tongue, moving onto another patch of skin just behind your ear as you still refuse to tell him what he wants. Another harsh suck, one more nip of his teeth, a soothing glide of his silky tongue over bruising skin, and you can’t hold back the moan that rips from the pit of your stomach. You hate the way you can feel his smirk against your ear as he hums approvingly at the sound.

“You’re lying.” He states plainly as he pulls back to look you in the eye, positively glowing from the pliant way you’ve melted into his hold. One hand is gripping your hip firmly, the other having drifted from your jaw to find purchase in the tender space of your ribs just beneath your breast. With each breath that heaves through your chest, you can just barely feel the brush of his thumb along the swell of the fleshy mound, and you hate how much you crave to truly feel it.

Stubbornly, you protest, “I’m not.” You are, though, and he knows it.

All at once he backs away from you, all traces of his touch leaving your steadily heating body, and you have to choke down the whine of protest that threatens to leave you. Tom’s still smirking, and he shrugs whilst raking a hand through his curls that have grown messy in your entanglement, “Alright, then. I guess I read the signs wrong.”

You know damn well what he’s doing, and it’s ridiculous how easily he can snare you in his web. How easily Tom Holland can get you right where he wants you, tangle you up in his trap, and how easily he can bend you to his will. You’re faced with two choices—stick to your stubborn refusal to admit he’s right (as always) and leave this room without ever knowing what could have happened, or tell him what he wants to hear and find out exactly what could happen.

It’s a challenge, an unspoken competition, and that’s what leads you to do it. He’s gloating over your childishly stubborn nature, and you can’t stand it anymore. Your voice is harsh as you snap, “Fine, Tom. I enjoyed it.”

For a moment he looks surprised, but the subtle part of his lips is quickly stretched into a radiant smile. “That’s it?” he taunts, and you growl with a pathetic stomp of your foot. “Come on, sweetheart, you can do better than that.”

“Fine!” your voice raises, “I loved it! I loved watching you, and I wasn’t faking it anymore when I cheered for you, and I meant it when I congratulated you! You were amazing, but you know that, and I was fucking proud—“

Your back slams against the locker behind you, and the loud moan that reverberates through your body at the feeling of his body pressing into you is theatrical. This time his kiss is deliberate, an all-consuming grind of his lips into yours and his hands wander your body freely. He’s pawing at your breast, squeezing the tender flesh harshly, and he’s palming your ass with a harsh grip that has you whining and pushing back into his hand desperately.

But, Tom’s got other plans. Feeling the way you submit to his touch, wordlessly begging for more, he pinches your ass hard enough to make you yelp and rips his lips from yours. His eyes are dark and heady, and his voice is gravelly as he tells you, “I want you to show me.”

Your loud breathing is wavering, the pants of air tremoring as you squeak, “What?”

“Show me,” he repeats, “show me how proud of me you were. Show me how much you enjoyed it, (Y/N). Don’t you think I deserve a proper reward?”

It takes a moment for you to figure out just what he wants, but the subtle press of his hand on your shoulder to nudge you downward fills you in. Timidly, you whisper, “Yes.” And then you’re sinking to your knees in the empty changing room, and you’re thankful he’d taken his pants off so long ago because you’re pretty sure your hands are shaking too hard to have ever taken his belt off.

Your fingers are visibly trembling as you reach toward the band of his briefs, and he laughs arrogantly at the sight, winking at the scowl that mars your features in response. Taking a deep breath, you shake off your nerves and peel the fabric down his legs quickly. That’s all you have to do—this is a challenge. Just another competition, and you’re determined to win.

His length stands at attention, your eyes trailing over the form of his cock as it springs free, and you bite down the smirk that tugs at your lips at the sight. He’s already worked up, pre-cum leaking from his reddened tip, and pride swells in your chest at knowing it’s because of you. So, your suspicions are confirmed, he has felt it too—he has those same muddy feelings that you do.

Tom’s hand curls through your hair, gripping the strands tightly at your prolonged hesitation, and he tugs your head back until you’re looking up at him. “Get on with it.” He warns, and you roll your eyes only to yelp as he yanks your hair roughly. “Don’t do that again, or you’ll regret it.”

It takes everything in you not to do it again. A part of you wants to do it, to test him, to challengehim, just to see what he’d do—but you’re determined to stay on track. The thrill of his hand guiding your head toward his length has you shivering in anticipation, though, and you’re all too eager to part your lips and take him into your mouth.

His tip is heavy on your tongue, the taste of the stray drops of his pre-cum sparking salty and bitter through your mouth, and your hands grip his thighs tightly as you adjust to the weight of him. Tom’s grip on your hair slackens for only a moment, before tightening considerably, and you relish in the quiet groan that spills from his own lips above you. You were determined to reduce him to a blubbering mess, to show him that even when he thought you were giving him exactly what he wanted… you were still the winner.

Your first bob is curious, testing your limit, and your scalp stings from how harshly he pulls at your hair the further your lips travel down his shaft. Pulling back, you hollow your cheeks tightly and flatten your tongue against the ridge beneath his tip, sucking hard. “Fuck, sweetheart,” he hisses, and you take that as your cue.

Your nose digs into the curls at the base of his cock, his tip prying your throat open as you swallow around him and hold him there. You can feel the way his thighs quiver, and your hands squeeze them teasingly. Button Number One: Tom loves it when you take all of him, and you love the way he trembles all for you.

You pull away to breathe, swirling your tongue around his tip and milking each drop of his leaking cock greedily, before pushing forward again. This time his thighs tense, his hips bucking into your mouth, and he moans when you choke around him in surprise. Tears gather in your eyes, and your nose burns as your spit is forced into your sinuses, but you push on despite the desperate urge to recoil.

“Fucking, Christ, (Y/N)!” he cries out as you pick up your pace, his nails scratching your scalp and the other hand coming down to push stray hairs from your face to clear his view. If you’d thought your favorite look on Tom’s face was the familiar clench of his jaw whenever you pissed him off, that was nothing but a distant memory now. Now, now you’re certain that this is your favorite side of Tom. The part of his lips as he pants, the clench of his eyes as he thrusts himself to the very back of your throat once more, and the way his head falls back each time he lets out a noise of ecstasy.

You love it. You love the way it’s you doing that to him, and you love the full-body shivers that consume you as you feed off of his pleasure. Already you can feel your body responding. Your belly is tightening in anticipation, your thighs are clenching, and you want nothing more than to take your hand from his thigh and slip it into your skirt.

But, that’s not your plan. You keep ahold of his legs, peering up at him from under your lashes as you take him down to the hilt once again, squeezing the hard muscle of his thighs as he groans, and you’ve got him right where you want him. You won’t be the one to take the next step; you’re determined to push him to do it himself.

It doesn’t take long, either. The moment your hand leaves his thigh to curl around his shaft, your mouth bobbing in tandem, he practically rips you away from him by your hair. His breathing is labored and you can see the slight tremor in his hands as he takes a step back and breathes, “Enough, that’s enough.”

Wiping the spit from your chin, you coo, “I thought you wanted a proper reward, Tommy?”

His briefs lay abandoned on the floor, and he kicks them away on shaky legs as he grits out, “Take off your shirt.”

“No.”

He sputters, and you blink at him innocently, still sitting on your heels on the floor even though your kneecaps are begging for mercy. “No?” he repeats, and you nod, “So that’s it, then?”

Shrugging, you dismiss, “I guess so, Tommy. You want it off? Come and take it.”

Hook, line, and sinker. His jaw clenches, and in an instant he bounds toward you and heaves you up from the floor. Tom’s hands are frantic and he fumbles to rip your shirt upward, your arms lifting with the motion as he drags the fabric over your head and tosses it away. The air chills your skin, and you can see the way his eyes are drawn to the stiff peaks of your nipples straining against the fabric of your bra.

He doesn’t stop there, though, and you’re holding back a triumphant grin as his hands yank the zipper of your skirt down and shove the fabric off of your hips. His eyes are greedy, blown wide and eager as he drags them over the form of your body, only covered by your scrap of lace thong and bra. The feeling of having all eyes on you is nothing compared to the thrill of having him look at you like this, like you’re his last meal.

Finally, seeing him completely enthralled with the sight of your body, you make the next move. His breath hitches as you bring your hands behind your back to unclasp your bra, letting the straps slide down your arms and the faint sound of the fabric hitting the floor practically echoes in the quiet room. You trail your hands down your sides, hooking your thumbs into the waistband of your thong, and he groans quietly.

The lace ghosts over your thighs and drops to the floor as well, and Tom is paralyzed before you. “Are you just going to stand there, Tommy?” you tease, and his shoulders stiffen.

Button Number Two: Tom absolutely loves it when you call him Tommy, and now you finally understand why it’s always gotten under his skin. He’s slow and purposeful as he steps up to you once again, his eyes gliding over all the plains of your body before finding your own, and you’re breathless at the intensity of his stare. He’s hesitant, almost, as his hand comes to rest on your hip.

“Don’t you want your reward?”

Tom silences you with a kiss, the force of it knocking your head back into the wooden locker behind you as he backs you into it all over again. A dull ache radiates through your skull, but all that you can focus on is the way his hands feel on your bare skin. One large palm drags up your ribs until it cups the swell of your breast, and he squeezes firmly. You gasp quietly, and he slips his tongue between your lips until you’re melting into him.

His fingers are deft and experienced as he toys with your nipple, pinching and rolling the bud between the calloused pads of his thumb and fingertips until it’s stiffened to its limit. “Tell me how much you enjoyed watching me.” He whispers the demand into your lips, and your back arches when he tweaks your sensitive nipple harshly. “Tell me what you liked, what had you staring at me like you wanted to rip my clothes off right on the green.”

You love the arrogant tone of his voice, and the way his cocky smirk feels against your lips as he steals another messy kiss from you. It’s sloppy, and wet, and you can feel the mixture of your saliva coating your chin and cheeks from just how feral your kisses are, and you love it. “Tommy, I—“

You can’t get the words out as he drags a finger through your folds, gathering your wetness and groaning throatily into your ear. “All this for me?” he taunts, treading the lone digit over the hood of your clit with just the faintest amount of pressure, but it’s enough to make you whine, “Tell me, and I’ll give you what you want.”

“I—“ his lips seal around the nipple he’d been rolling between his fingers, and your voice pitches upward as you struggle to speak, “I loved the way you looked in your uniform. I loved the way your shirt was so tight, and I couldn’t stop thinking about what you’d look like without it—fuck, Tommy!”

Tom nips at your breast, scrambling all the thoughts in your head as you throw your head back into the locker again, and his fingers tease your sodden entrance. “Keep going, sweetheart.” He tuts, and you’re putty in his hands.

Breathily, you stammer, “Your arms—I couldn’t stop staring at your arms. The way they looked when you made a long drive, all the muscle straining against your sleeves like they could rip at any second—your hands! Your hands, I wanted to feel you touch me with your glove on!”

He dips one finger into your silken hole, your walls greedily clenching around him and working to draw him in even deeper. “Is that so?” he hums, and you nod pitifully with your eyes blown wide. His brown irises twinkle as he looks up at you, an airy chuckle sending shivers down your spine as he states, “I could get it out, if you’d like.”

For a brief moment you consider it, your mind taking you back to all the fantasies you’d conjured up about the leather article, but then he curls his finger against your spongy walls and you’re crying out, “No! Just, please, fuck me, Tommy!”

The game of cat and mouse continues. You’d gotten a leg up on Tom with his cock down your throat, but now, with his finger working to break you open, he’s back on top. He knows it, too, and you love the way his eyes hungrily devour the desperate plea on your face. Now, you’ve literally got a leg up on him.

His free hand closes around the soft flesh of your thigh, hitching your leg up until it’s curled around his back and hanging from his hip. A second finger slips past your entrance, and he scissors them within you until your struggling to hold yourself up anymore. “Another time, I suppose,” he shrugs, and you’re so consumed with the feeling of his digits pumping within you to take note of his implications that this will not be the only time he has you like this.

Tom’s grip on your thigh is harsh as he squeezes at the supple skin, his lips finding yours again as you writhe against him. The stretch of his fingers curling, scissoring, pumping into you burns delightfully as he picks up his pace. All that you can hear is the roar of blood rushing behind your ears, the messy squelch of your juices echoing through the room, and the sloppy whisper of your lips moving with his. You bite down on his lower lip when he curls his fingers just right, hitting the spot deep within you that sends sparks of pleasure radiating through your body. “Right there, Tommy, please—don’t stop!” you beg, your hips bucking, and he listens.

His cock is pressed into your abdomen, and Tom bites hard on your own lip as he curls his fingers again and again, working hard to take you to the limit. “C’mon, sweetheart, I know you’re close.” He grunts, and your hands are desperate to find purchase in him to keep you from crumbling. One curls into his hair, fisting the chocolate curls roughly, and the other squeezes the bicep that’s still straining to hold your leg up on his hip.

The coil in your belly is white-hot, tightened to an extreme that you’ve never felt before, and you’re greedy for more. Grinding your hips into his palm, pushing his fingers even further within you, you cry out, “Please, I need you—“

His thumb rolls deep circles around your clit, and you’re completely shattered. The coil snaps, your vision exploding into blinding stars, and you nearly topple to the floor as your leg finally gives out. Tom catches you, though, hissing as your nails drag deep welts into his bicep.

All too soon his fingers disappear from where you want—no, need them. You whine at the empty feeling that destroys your mind blowing orgasm, but the whine is quick to morph into a shriek. “Tommy!” you gasp, and he groans as he thrusts his length into your clenched entrance abruptly.

He sheathes himself to the hilt, splitting you open as your walls continue to flutter through the aftershocks of your climax, and his face drops into your shoulder. “You’re so fucking tight.” Tom pants.

Your heel digs into his back as you cling to him, your toes straining to keep you standing on the ground as he draws back and snaps his hips into yours roughly. The sharp cry that tears through your throat makes it burn, your windpipe ragged from the shrill exertion, and he moans deeply. His tip rams into the spongy point his fingers had just abused, and you clench around him in response.

It’s rough, and messy, and your back is definitely going to be bruised from how hard he’s slamming you into the wooden surface behind you, but you don’t care. All you care about is the perfect way his length stretches you, the way his lips suck at your neck mindlessly, and the way it feels when he rolls his hips just right to push as deep within you as he can go. He’s still clutching your thigh, his other hand holding your hips in place, and you wonder if you’re squeezing his arm hard enough to draw blood.

Pulling at his hair, you force his lips back to yours as your eyes roll back in pleasure. At this point you’re pretty sure the lazy, desperate press of your lips together is far from an actual kiss—more just frantic mouthing and heavy panting as you exchange moans into each other’s lungs, but you love it. “You feel so fucking good, Tommy,” you heave out, and he groans loudly as he forces his hips upward in a rough thrust, “I love it! I love the way you fuck me; I want you to make me cum!”

Button Number Three: Tom really, really loves it when you praise him, and you love to do it. His growl Is animalistic as he grips your hip so tightly it hurts, but the pain fades to nothing as he drives his cock into you even faster. You can feel yourself dripping down your thigh, the sound of your juices and the rhythmic slap of skin on skin tearing through the silence in the room, and you love the sound of it. His moans are deep and vibrate through your body, making you rock down into him each time he makes a noise.

“This cunt is mine,” he growls, and you clench your eyes shut as you feel his hand leave your hip to work in between your bodies. His thumb presses harshly on your clit, a choked squeal escaping you, and he demands, “Look at me, (Y/N). I want you to say it. Tell me whose cunt this is—tell me who fucks you like no one else ever could!”

You whine as his thumb remains still over your bud, his thrusts slowing too, and you’re too desperate to keep feeling him to care for how easily you give in to his demands. “Yours! It’s all yours, Tommy, I’m yours! Nobody could ever make me feel this good, nobody but you!” you sob, and you’ve never seen a smirk so pleased as the one that splits his cheeks in that moment. You love it, though.

His thumb rolls over your clit in steady, rhythmic circles, and tingles rip up your spine. Tom’s thrusts pick up their pace again, and you chant his name like a mantra. You can feel him straining, the way his thrusts are spastic and less focused, and you know he’s close. His eyes are clenched, his curls are limp and slick with sweat on his forehead, and you can see his cheeks reddening as he holds his breath to keep from cumming.

Gripping his hair tighter, you whisper, “You win, Tommy.” His eyes snap open, and you repeat, “You fucking win, you were right, please, just make me cum!”

You’ve found the golden ticket. His hips slam into your own one final time, his thumb working your swollen bud with more fury than ever, and the spark in your belly catches. Your entire body seizes as you tip over the edge, your head thrown back and your leg locking around his waist so hard he can’t pull back. He’s still rolling your clit like his life depends on it, even as he shouts your name and his cock twitches within your pulsing walls, and it’s burning you up inside.

The climax that consumes you is nothing like the first. Instead of stars in your eyes, it’s like you’re staring directly into the sun. Your vision whites out, and your hearing distorts into white noise, and your entire body is trembling. Each continued circle over your clit sends another wave of pleasure through your body so intense that you spasm, and you finally have to beg, “Stop, stop! Too much, Tommy, stop!”

His thumb finally stops its assault, and all you can focus on is the feeling of his length pulsing within your walls. A warmth fills you up, and you moan at the sensation despite knowing it was probably a poorly made decision. “Fuck,” Tom pants, chuckling slightly as he drops his head onto your shoulder and finally drops your leg, “I really hope you’re on birth control.”

“Yeah,” you laugh, “I am. Probably should have talked about that before, but… yeah.”

He’s breathing heavily as he laughs too, sheepishly repeating, “Yeah.”

⁑⁑⁑

The car ride back to campus is far from awkward, much to your surprise. You and Tom spend the entire ride discussing his championship, and you pretend to understand what he’s talking about when he goes full golf mode on you. In turn, he listens just as dutifully while you tell him about the upcoming sorority raffle in a few weeks, though you know he probably doesn’t care.

You sing along to the radio, fight over which top 40 song is the best, and you even find yourself dancing as you drive like you do when you’re alone. He dances too, though, so at least you know you have ammunition should he ever decide to speak of your horrible moves in public. You laugh and poke fun at each other, and for once it’s not about making the other mad. It’s just… playful.

But, now as you pull up outside of the fraternity house to drop him off, things are finally starting to come back to reality. Neither one of you can look the other in the eye, and you aren’t entirely sure what to say to him as you finally put the car in park and he grips the door handle. For once, he’s the first to break the silence and tread into uncharted territory, “So…”

“This changes nothing,” you finally say, taking his prolonged silence as a cue for you to speak, “right?”

His brown eyes hold your own for a long moment, and you almost worry you’ve said the wrong thing, before a tiny smirk twitches at his lips just like you’ve always seen, and he nods. “Yeah, right.” He affirms, and opens the door. “But, uh, maybe you could come inside?”

You stare at him in stunned silence, and the mischievous twinkle in his eye never dwindles as he patiently waits for a response. Glancing at the house, filled to the brim with his idiotic fraternity brothers, you ponder over whether to say yes or not. You could say no, and wonder what would have happened if you said yes. Or, you could say yes and find out for yourself.

It’s a challenge, or at least that’s what you tell yourself. Another competition, and you refuse to back down from him. So, you shrug and say, “Sure. I still hate you, though.”

Tom grins, “And I still hate you, sweetheart.”

TAGLIST {non-permanent, fic exclusive}:

@osterfieldshollandgirl @daydreamingchaos713 @itscaminow

special thanks to @peterr-parkourr for being the best hype woman ever. i hope you enjoy this!

#tom holland au #tom holland imagine #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland one shot #tom holland oneshot #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fan fiction #tom holland blurb #tom holland drabble #tom holland series #tom holland angst #tom holland fluff #tom holland

[loverholland]

strings attached

pairing: rich kid! fuckboy! fwb! tom holland x rich kid! fem! reader au | request | original | prompt summary: no strings attached was the agreement. word count: 4,700 warnings: mentions of drinking, mentions of mary j, mentions of friends with benefits relationship, & sexual and strong language used. a/n: this is, as requested, fuckboy tom but kind of with a twist. i hope you enjoy this, nonnie!

Going to a party wasn’t really a part of the agenda for today, it was quite the contrary. She had been stressed from working as an intern at her father’s company in Northern London and was going to spend her night unwinding to the newest Bachelorette episode while doing a face mask and sipping on the wine her mom bought her earlier in the week. She wasn’t too sure why, but she appreciated the thought. But the night turned around when her best friend, Cheryl, aka Cherry, had told her that Tom was going to a party, one that she didn’t know about. She didn’t originally want to come, she knew how it would look, and it wasn’t her favorite look. It made her look obsessive in a way, but she didn’t think she was. Cherry was the one who asked, not only because of Tom, but because a few of their mutual friends were there. So, Y/N agreed.

Y/N: hey, i’m going to be at a house party tonight! if you see me, text me! :) x

She wanted to keep it casual and like she wasn’t going to be in the same place as him. But she knew that 217 Liberty Avenue was exactly where he was. She felt wrong for being here. Wrong for letting Cherry bring her to the same party Tom was at. Y/N sighed as Cherry interlinked her fingers with Y/N’s. They stood outside for a moment, the loud rap music pounding the walls.

“Did he reply?” Cherry asked, big green eyes looking up at her.

“No clue.” Y/N replied honestly, moving her free hand to her back pocket of her black ripped skinny jeans and pulling out her phone. She went through the Face ID and pressed on the light green icon to see her messages. She saw his contact and her message, biting her lip. She pressed his contact, darting to the Read at 9:45pm tag. She felt a pang in her heart and a helpless breath of air leaving her lips, her shoulders slugging and fingers unlinking as she locked her phone again. “No. He didn’t.”

“Oh sweetie,” Cherry’s hands touched her shoulders and she laid her head on Y/N’s arm, which was partly covered by the dark green, silk Gucci shirt she was wearing. It was much like Tom’s and she hated that it matched, especially when they’re going through whatever they’re going through.

“I’m sorry. He’s not worth it anyways. We can go drink and have the time of our lives, alright?” She smiled, eyes growing large as she began to drag Y/N to the door. It was white and large and was pushed open with very little force. The music became louder and the lights were dark with pink and green disco lights. It was fucking fantastic and she wished so deeply she had a gram of ouid on her or something. But, she didn't, so whatever.

Cherry dragged her through the crowd of people and into the kitchen where the liquor sat out. Cherry immediately got a recyclable shot glass and one of the bottles, pouring 2 shots out.

“One shot for you,” she pushed one glass to Y/N. “And one for me.” She smiled and picked up the shot glass, raising it. Y/N did the same and clinked theirs together. Y/N pressed the lip of the shot glass against her strawberry red lips and tilted her head back, allowing the nail polish remover to run down her throat.

“Gross.” Y/N started and sat the glass down, looking at Cherry.

“Oh, whatever!” She laughed, “I’m going to make you a drink.” And with that, she bounced off, heels clickity-clackiting across the floor. Her blonde curls bounced over her shoulders and she made sure she was known to be there, such a big personality for such a small human. Y/N sighed and leaned against the counter, fingers tapping on the wood. She was bored but she didn’t want to look at her phone. It reminded her of Tom, weirdly enough. Being reminded of him wasn’t bad, oh God no, it was quite nice. She couldn’t help wonder what he was talking about and how the words would look forming across her lips. If he was thinking about what it would be like to completely destroy her in the closets bathroom. Maybe taking her in the back of his car, again, before taking her back home to properly do the job. She definitely thought about it and it made her miss him more.

Y/N bit her lip as she battled with herself on actually looking at her phone. Another huff and suddenly her phone is up and being unlocked with Face ID. Y/N admired her home screen for a moment, a picture of her, Tom, Harrison, and Cherry at the Eiffel Tower in París. They had gone on vacation a few months back together after she officially graduated with her Bacholors. The photo was bright and they each held a champagne flute. Tom’s fingers were interlocked with hers and they both shared bright smiles. Y/N loved the picture and she often wondered if Tom knew that was her home screen.

Y/N tapped on the yellow Snapchat icon, swiping left immediately to see the stories posted by her friends. Cherry was first, a few snaps from before she had left her apartment to meet with you. Then a video of her doing a shot. Typical. Then it was Y/N’s younger sister, Charity, a 16 year old who was basically Y/N’s younger twin. Charity and a few of her friends had gone to the country club today. Playing golf and going swimming, the typical things. Tapping on, was Harrison’s story. There was a video of Harrison and Tom taking a shot, Tom’s face scrunched up and he stuck out his tongue.

“Gross.” Tom said disgustingly as Harrison laughed.

Y/N giggled and with another tap she was at Tom’s story.

He had posted a shirtless picture to his private story, a bulge very prominent in his grey sweats. Was this in the story only meant for her? Yup! Fuck. He looked absolutely delightful, but with another tap, she saw a photo of him with a girl in his lap. She rolled her eyes and swiped down and off of the stories before swiping to the camera. She sat her phone against one of the many bottles, stepping a few feet back to take an equally hot picture of herself. She made sure to accentuate her hips and her chest, throwing her head back, the way she knows Tom likes. Her hair draped loosely over her shoulders and then, the picture was done. She checked it, made sure that it was up to her standards before adding a GIF to go along with it.

Before she knew it, a hand clasped over her shoulder, making her jump out of fear. She turned around quickly, stabiling herself with the counter, mentally readying herself to start swinging but it was only her best friend who was standing in front of her with a large grin on her face.

“Try it!” Cherry smiled and pushed the red solo cup into Y/N’s hands. Y/N looked down at the brown liquid in the cup, raising an eyebrow at Cherry before bringing the edge of the cup to her lips and taking the smallest sip of it. It tasted like the drink she almost always gets; fireball and coke. Y/N could laugh at the way Cherry whispered a soft “How’d I do?”

Y/N smacked her lips and smiled at Cherry. “You did perfect.” Y/N complimented. “Fireball and coke is a good choice.”

“Well, I know that it’s usually what you get and you told me explicitly that you could not have anything other than fireball, which I still don’t understand because fireball makes you angry sometimes and I don’t know if you’re looking for a fight, but all I’m saying is to let me know before you start throwing down with some bitch because I need to make sure I get it on video.” Cherry rambled, leaning onto the counter to try and leverage herself.

“I’m not going to fight anyone.” Y/N responded, sipping on the drink again. Cherry laughed a pitiful laugh.

“You say that and then someone's going to look at Tom wrong an-” Cherry paused and with wide eyes, looked at her best friend. “Oh no, I'm so sorry I-”

“You're right. I promise I won't fight anyone tonight.”

Cherry smiled and lept onto Y/N, arms catching her neck in a hug, one that Y/N was all too familiar with. She wrapped her arms around Cherry's waist and squeezed her for a moment.

“I love you.” Cherry whispered into Y/N’s ear.

“Ditto.”

And with that they separated. Cherry smiled up and her before kissing her cheek and removing herself completely.

“Do you mind if I go find Charolette? She said she was going to be here.”

“Yeah. I'll stay here.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. If anything changes I'll text you.” Y/N smiled and Cherry returned it, skipping away as her heels clacked against the hardwood floor.

And there Y/N was, once again, alone. Y/N sighed and turned so her back faced the archway, unlocking her phone again and going to respond to a few of the messages she had ignored. This wasn’t her best idea, by far. She didn’t want to be here and knowing that Tom was with someone else and didn’t tell her, made it a bit worse for her. But, Cherry wanted her to have a good time and she would. Especially when they get to go to a breakfast diner later, which was all Y/N needed to be convinced to come out tonight, other than her friends, of course. But she was just tired. Annoyed.

“Y/N?” a familiar voice sounded, causing Y/N to jump again. Damn. She turned on her heel quickly, looking at the blonde man standing in front of her. Harrison Otwrfield. Tom Holland’s best friend and one of her most seen friends. He's not a close friend of hers, not even a “friend”, some would say. More of an acquaintance, if anything. But he was always with Tom and she saw Tom regularly, making Harrison a regular with her. But she  didn't trust him. Not for a good reason, she just doens’t trust blonde men, just something about them screams WRONG WAY!

No clue why, they just do.

“Hm?” She hummed, hiking one of her eyebrows up. She lifted her drink and took a large swig before titling it to point at him. “Go on, what do you need?”

“I didn't know you were going to be here.” He simply stated.

“I could say the same.” She looked him up and down. “Daddy’s money” screamed from the Rolex on his wrist and the Gucci belt he wore. “Want a shot?” Y/N asked, turning her back to Harrison, taking the closet vodka. Blue raspberry. How cute.

Taken aback, Harrison chuckled. “You already have a drink.” He mentioned.

“So? Is that a no?”

“Your limit is like 2. Plus, Tom would kill me if you got too drunk.”

“Oh, so now you're watching out for me?” She scoffed, turning around with both shots in between her fingers. “It's one shot compared to the drink I have.”

“Which is?”

“None of your business.” She snapped. “If you're asking for Tom, you can tell him he can ask himself.” She sat the extra shot glass down before tapping the remaining one, throwing it back in a swift gulp.

Y/N grabbed her drink, palm over the opening just so no one can easily slip anything into it. She didn't know where she was going, but it was going to be the next less crowded space in the house. She had to push past bodies, some would give her looks and others would call out her name to get to stop and talk. But she never did, she just continued walking past and towards a corner on the other side of the room. It was small but there weren't many people and it was still in view of the dance floor, so she could give Cherry an exact location. Y/N much preferred to be reliable when they go out and drink. She's had one too many times of over drinking and needing a sitter and not having one, that's when Cherry came into the picture. She was somehow a saving grace and Y/N just wanted to offer that back to her.

Y/N let out the air she had been holding, relaxing her shoulders for a minute. She reached and grabbed her phone and opened her messages, going to Cherry’s contact

Y/N: i'm over by the backyard door. it's close to the DJ area. had to move bc of Haz.

She knew this wasn't the best type of buddy system but it's always worked for them. They have their location for one another on everything and they share their location at all times. Y/N wouldn't let anything happen to Cherry and vice versa. Neither of them ever wanted to overstep when they partied so having a system where one person can drink a little bit but not enough to inhabit them to walk home. The other one on the other hand can drink as much as they want. Sometimes if they had rides, usually Tom and Harrison, they both would drink. But only them would they both be wasted together.

Y/N lifted her drink and repositioned her hand before taking another large swig. She watched over the party, tapping her fingers along to the music. It wasn't good but it was okay. She knew exactly what she wanted to listen to so she unlocked her phone, pulling up Cherry’s contact again.

Y/N: come meet me over here im going to put on Majesty and we HAVE TO DANCE TO IT!

She quickly went to the phone on the chair, the phone was unlocked and already on Spotify. Nice. Um… Search… Majesty… Nicki-Aha! Y/N swiped left and queued the song, going into the already queued and moving it up to the 4th song. Enough time for Cherry to text her back.

Y/N finishes her drink by the time Cherry shows up. She’s alone, unlike many of the times before, but her pink lips still wore the cheekiest smile.

“Missed you!” She said and Y/N repeated the words back. “When's the song going to play?”

“After this one.”

“Okay!” Cherry clapped, taking one of her hands and grabbing Y/N’s, taking them close to the center of the dance floor. Cherry stood in front of her, her hips beginning to move and her arms rising above her. “Let’s move, baby!”

The song started a minute later and Cherry took Y/N’s hands again, moving them so that Y/N would begin moving her hips a bit, and it worked. Time stopped for a moment as they dance and sang together, Cherry turning to dance against Y/N, giggling as they danced with one another. Their hands interlinked as Y/N helped spin Cherry a bit, dropping low with her and following the lead of her best friend. The song naturally fell from their lips; one of the most listened to songs for both of them and the movements were rehearsed in their kitchens, bedrooms, bathrooms and anywhere whenever the song came on.

They even had specific parts they would sing in the car with one another. Y/N and Cherry took turns rapping Eminiems words as they danced with one another as the highway’s went by. The world all melting together while they drove down with the sunroof open and with the windows down, the world all becoming a memory. A memory that she cherished every day of her life.

“Like I'm a meteorite, and motherfuck the fucking media / Right in the behind, I'm a human encyclopedia / I must be like pie crust because I was bread to rise like I was yeast.” The girls screamed to one another and as the next words came up and the syllables left Y/N’s lips, there was a voice she knew all too well.

“And you're never gonna reach these heights / They're just too high to reach / And I ain't even reached my fuckin' highest / You better pick another game / try hide-and-seek-” Thomas fucking Holland rapped in her ear. His voice was low and one of the sexiest things she’s heard him do. He always said he hated this song and he just comes out here bang rapping? Y/N deeply swallowed as Tom’s rough hands touched her bicep, squeezing softly.

Y/N turned and looked at him. She could feel Cherry’s hand on her shoulder as well. Tom’s face was stone cold, red with frustration, she assumed. His eyes held so much annoyance that she was concerned about whatever was going on because he didn't have a right to be angry at her dancing with Cherry, right?

“Hi.” Y/N greeted.

“We're going home.” Tom said sternly. Y/N went to fight back but Cherry squeezed her shoulder.

“I think he's right.” She agreed.

“What?”

“We're going home.” Tom removed his hand from her bicep and instead draped his arm over her shoulder, guiding her to the front door. Dumbfounded by Cherry's agreement and Tom's sudden intimacy that he refused to ever show in this sort of public eye. The hand holding pictures are only some that are taken, they always take some holding hands and then some where there's no touching.

She bumped into people as she was led towards the door, which Tom opened for both of the women he was leading out. Harrison was standing at his black matte BMW, arms crossed as he watched the three of them walk out. Cherry walked from around them and towards Harrison. Was this planned? Y/N’s eyebrows knitted together in curiosity.

Tom led Y/N to his car, not saying anything. It was a white Lexus, one of the newer models. It had red leather seats and matte black accents. She absolutely fucking loved his car, for more than one reason but she couldn't imagine him wanting to fuck after they've both drank. They both agreed a long time ago that we won't sleep together if we're drunk, at least right now.

Tom opened the passenger side door and Y/N ducked in. Settling on the warm leather that summer brought . Tom walked over to the driver side, settling in before looking over at Y/N, eyes looking over her body. The black sheer lace hugging her torso like none other, and the ripped black jeans looked fantastic. Not to mention the black heels she wore. Her hair fell perfect around her face.

“I thought you didn't like Majesty?” Y/N murmured, a hand buckling the seatbelt before crossing her arms.

“I don't.”

“Oh whatever.” She kicked and looked out the window. Tom huffed and pressed a few buttons, a woman's voice saying “bluetooth'' spoke up and he did a bit more. She didn’t watch him, she just knows from all the times before when she did watch him. Tom would do this every time they left somewhere, he refused to listen to the radio. “What playlist are you putting on?”

“Does it matter?”

Y/N scoffed and rolled her eyes, turning her head to look at him. “Why of course it does. You know it does! I don’t want to sit in whatever this is without a good playlist at least.”

“What don’t you want to sit in?”

Y/N took a deep breath before releasing everything she’s wanted to say. “Everything that’s been happening over the past few weeks. You’ve ignored my texts and my calls, you never come over anymore and everytime you post on your story it’s something suggestive and all I want to do is tell you how good you look but I don’t feel like I can because you’re not even talking to me.

I don’t understand what’s changed because I would tell you how fucking good you looked and you always responded. Not just to those texts but you responded to every single one. Showing up to parties, wanting a cuddle buddy or just need someone to talk to. You’ve always been there so what fucking happened?”

Tom stared at her for a moment before smiling and shaking his head, pressing the start button and putting his left hand on the wheel. Tom looked over his shoulder and began to pull out from his spot, completely ignoring Y/N’s question. She scoffed and leaned her head back dramatically, rolling her eyes.

“What’s wrong now?” He asked.

“Answer my question.”

“Why?”

Another scoff from her lips. “Because I don’t understand it! You ignore me one minute and then you’re taking me home planning…” she gestured with her hands “...something! I don’t understand what’s happening, Thomas! If you want to end this, then fine! It’s ended, no worries because no strings attached right?” She ranted, tears swelling in her eyes, choking back tears.

“We’re not going to talk about this right now.” He huffed out, falling back into the driver’s seat. “We’ll talk about it later.”

“When’s later? A month from now when you get off your high horse?”

“No, I just want to be parked.”

There was a moment of silence while the soft music from their Fast Approach, a classical playlist. She’s so frustrated but she knows he’s right for wanting to be safe and she couldn’t blame him. “Fine.”

Tom rolled his shoulders and sighed, turning up the volume so that 4 Romantic Pieces played over their thoughts, which were consuming her mind. She felt so much adrenaline, not really knowing if she was in the right but goddamn she was sick and tired of him not answering her. He never acted like this before, all touchy and quiet about how he felt. He always let you know when he didn’t like something. Anytime some guy would begin to dance with her, he always seemed to fuck her like no other had, jealous would rush through his veins and he would make sure that everyone knew she was supposedly his. Leaving bite marks and bruises up and down her breasts and neck.

The drive back to her apartment was long and drewey. She didn’t want to hear his reasons for not talking to her. She was afraid of her heart being broken like time and time again. She would never admit the crush on Tom that she gained with their relationship. No one truly understood that it wasn’t purely just a flirtatious or sexual relationship and it was hard for her to accept the romantic feelings that she slowly began to develop.

They saw each other almost every single night. They would binge watch shows or make playlists and drive around the city. They would get take out and go to bookstores and they made each other one too many things. Too many to throw out, that’s for sure. Fuck, Tom had a drawer at her apartment! He always kept a nice suit at her apartment, gray joggers, a hoodie, a few shirts, changes of underwear and his toiletry products. She had much of the same at his apartment, just adding in some make-up. She found so much peace in his touch, love in his kiss and releif in his words. She couldn’t imagine him going away.

She couldn’t imagine this going away. She’s upset, sure, but the world was everything to her because of him. He took her on drives around the city, always pointing out things. Always taking her somewhere new, whether it is to a new bar or some high class restaurant. She would tell him about the little things, what she appreciated out of life. She would tell him everything and anything he wanted to know, amazed by her mind. She had a Bachlors in Buisness Management from New York Univerity. She wanted a Masters and possible a PhD. She was beyond smart and he couldn’t imagine how her brain works and that’s what he loved most, he told her everytime she said something he didn’t know. The words always followed with a sincere smile.

He’s everything she ever imagined. He’s everything she’s ever needed and the way her heart began to break over the idea of losing him was a lot. Too much in some ways.

She watched the streetlamps pass and took a deep breath as Tom pulled into the parking lot next to her apartment building, bringing the car to a stop in one of the open spots. Y/N didn’t watch him as he turned off the headlights and still didn’t budge when he turned to look at her, a hand gripping the stearing  wheel.

“So,” Tom pursed his lips. “Want to talk about it?”

“Fuck you, Tom.” She laughed and tilted her head down as she tongued at her cheek. “I just want to know what happened. It’s fine if you want to end it. I don’t care, okay? I just want to understand and have a solid ending.”

Tom sighed and turned to face the front again. He stared through the windshield, at the bushes in front of them. It was silent with only Moonlight Sonata by Beethoven and Luke Woodapple playing in the background. Y/N sniffled once or twice as she tried to control the intense emotions of frustration begin to welt up in her eyes. She just wanted answers and once again, he’s not answering. He’s leaving her hanging again.

“What changed, Tom?”

The question was much quiter than everything she had said before. Finally letting the tears roll down her cheeks as a flood of emotions hit her all at once. Everyone felt like it was falling apart and the world wasn’t going to stop turning for her. She had never felt such heart break. Not even when she was stabbed in the back in college or when her “high school sweetheart” cheated on her. Nothing could compare to this pain that her heart felt.

“You.”

The world paused for a moment as the words registered in her brain. What does he mean her? There’s no fucking way. She stared at Tom, arms unfolding as tears continued to fall down her cheeks and onto her chest. So many dots felt like they still weren’t connected, but at the same, so many were connecting. Y/N wanted to protest, but Tom beat her to speaking.

“Haz has been on my arse about this for the last month, okay? He’s known forever and Cherry started hopping on the train. I don’t want us to end, I just don’t know what to do because this wasn’t the plan. The plan wasn’t to fall in love with you. You just… changed everything for me. You bring me soup when I’m sick and you let me come over when I can’t bear to be home. There’s no one with a touch like yours and…” a huff as Tom pushed his loose curls back. “...I didn’t know what to do than to get other girls to replace it and no one did and then you just because home and you just became everything I needed. I don’t even know when it happened or how, it just did and now, here we are.”

Tom sighed, giving Y/N the softest smile as he gestured as a way to say ‘there you go.’ And there it was. Her questions were answered, in a way. The worries she had before were now gone and although her heart still ached, she also felt calm. He felt the same. Y/N laughed softly as she wiped the tears, sniffling as she continued giggling.

“What’s funny?” He asked. “You can’t just laugh at me when I’m telling you there are strings attached.” He whined, making Y/N laugh a bit harder, looking over at him.

“Just kiss me, loser.”

#Tom Holland imagine #Tom Holland request #Tom Holland oneshot #Tom Holland smut #Tom Holland angst #Tom Holland fluff #Tom Holland x reader #Tom Holland x you #mine #fwb! tom holland #fuckboy!tom holland #rich kid!tom holland #tom holland #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fan fiction #tom holland x oc #tom holland x y/n #tom holland fic #peter parker imagine #peter parker oneshot #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n

[priyankaraa]

Tom Holland/Peter Parker Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Doing the Dishes with Tom (Tom Holland × Female! Reader)

Imagine Tom Catching You Sniffing His Hoodies (Tom Holland × Female! Reader)

I Got Lucky (Tom Holland × Female! Reader)

Love For Daddy (Tom Holland × Female! Reader)  

Sharing (Tom Holland × Female! Reader)

Reminiscing (Tom Holland × Female! Reader

How To Love Your Boss (CEO! Tome Holland × Female! Reader)*

Guardian of My Galaxy (Tom Holland × Female! Reader)*

Daddy (Tom Holland × Female! Reader)*

Cyber Sex (Peter Parker × Female! Reader)*

Punishment (Tom Holland × Female! Reader)*

Is That My Daughter? (Peter Parker × Stark! Reader)*

Sneaky Lovers (Peter Parker × Stark! Reader)*

Five Minutes (Peter Parker  × Stark Reader)*

Did Somebody Say Yoga? (Tom Holland  × Female! Reader)*

History (Tom Holland × RDJ! Reader)*

Little Guy (Peter Parker × Female Reader

Rainy Days (Tom Holland × Female! Reader) social media au

#tom holland #tom holland imagines #tom holland fanfiction #Tom Holland Fan Fiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland smut #tom holland × reader #tom holland × y/n #peterparker #peter parker smut #peter parker fluff #peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #peter parker × reader #the avengers #marvel #tom holland masterlist #peter parker masterlist