it will come back (richkid!haz + tom x reader)
"I know who I am when I'm alone; I'm something else when I see you. You don't understand, you should never know how easy you are to need." - Hozier, It Will Come Back
AU Masterlist | Main Masterlist
summary: Harrison insists Y/N is a great shag and nothing more. Tom joins in on the fun and proves him right and wrong at the same time.
pairing: richkid!haz x actor!tom x reader
word count: 4,902
notes: this is.... just a pure mess of filth. this is set before angel of small death, but can be read as a standalone. big thanks to @tommysparker and @shipping-not-sailing for enduring all the pestering and giving me mad ideas and have you seen @uglypastels' AMAZING FANART (open it for a surprise)??? y'all are amazing ilysm <3
warnings: enemies to lovers, past & present fwb dynamics, language, drinking, jealousy, so much yearning holy shit, SMUT (threesome (mmf), oral (m&f receiving), vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, anal fingering, rimming, anal sex, protected sex, dirty talk, choking, kiiind of hate sex? it's filthy pls read at your own discretion)
***
Paris, February 2019.
If there's one thing Harrison loves more than Fashion Week, it's the Fashion Week after-parties. After hordes and hordes of luxury pieces to wear, there’s plenty of lavish extravaganza to be had. Right now, he’s treading among marble sculptures in some chateau just outside of Paris, clad in a masterfully crafted suit, mingling with models, fashionistas, and fellow jetsetters of the world.
Except for one.
"Ugh, there she is." he scoffs into his champagne flute.
Next to him, Tom scans around the room. “Who?”
He follows Harrison’s gaze to the woman next to the statue of Persephone eating her pomegranate. She wouldn’t look so out of place next to these sculptures if it weren’t for the colors she’s rocking. Her lips glow red like she’s the one who took a bite of the fruit. The bubbles in her champagne are like specks of gold, and the sequins are specks of stars in her indigo blue dress.
“Ah. The love of your life.” Tom side-eyes him cheekily.
“Fuck off. No, she’s not!” Harrison retorts way too quick and aggressive. Then, he continues, without taking his eyes off of her, “I can’t even stand her. That girl’s a bitch and a half.”
Tom only laughs. "You say that now…”
Harrison lightly shoves him in the arm. "The hell does that mean?”
“Oh, please. I know you guys are fucking around.”
“What?” Harrison tries to play it cool, but he knows there’s no coming back from that. He’s been made.
Tom leans against the bar, now rocking a smug ‘I-told-you-so’ smirk. “You sneak away and she sneaks away and then you guys always come back a little flushed… it’s not that hard to figure out, bro.”
“Well, that doesn’t mean I like her. I mean, look at her!” Harrison insists. “With her snooty voice and that fake laugh and her stupid dress…”
Tom shakes his head. "If you hate her so much, why do you keep coming back to her?"
"Honestly?" He takes a deep breath, and for the first time throughout this conversation, something remotely truthful comes out. "She's one hell of a shag."
"Huh..."
Tom goes quiet. Unlike his best friend, he can objectively say that there’s nothing wrong with her voice. She laughs, her whole face lit up, like she’s genuinely having fun, and her dress looks fine on her.
Scratch that.
Her dress looks amazing on her. The tulle is sheer and light around her thighs, making it look like it magically floats around her. But the corset bodice accentuates her curves so well that Tom finds himself somewhat envious of the sequins swirling patterns all over her body.
Harrison turns to see him still staring at her, deep in thought, and he grows suspicious. "What." It sounds more like a demand for explanation than a question.
“That’s it? Great shag, nothing more?” Tom asks, as if for confirmation.
Harrison shrugs.
“So you don’t mind if I chat her up?”
“Yeah,” he answers immediately, far too cool, too fast for him to catch himself. In the span of three seconds, Harrison manages to go experience the shock, the panic, the confusion.
The regret.
But he’s three seconds too late, and she's already walking over to the bar where they are now, and he can hear Tom stepping up and greeting her in his effortless charm.
"Y/N! Fancy seeing you here!" Tom opens up his arms and she gladly accepts the hug, kissing him on both cheeks.
"I could say the same about you, Spider-Man." she pats him on the chest, finger lingering just a moment too long on his chest. “I almost didn't recognize you for a sec. You look great!"
He chuckles bashfully. He seems to trade in his usual preppy golf chic style with a more ‘bad boy’ look, with his buzzcut and leather jacket over a white t-shirt. "Oh, thanks. It's for Cherry. I just came back from Morocco and then this div right here…" he elbows Harrison, "...told me he's walking the runway! So of course I gotta go."
"I saw. Good job on not tripping," she notes, finally flashing her signature fake smile at Harrison.
He's not sure whether he's more annoyed at her backhanded compliment or the fact that it took her this long to even acknowledge him. He knows she was there at the show. She sat right on the front row, eyeing him up and down with every outfit he came out in.
"Thanks. I'm sure you were really looking forward to that, weren't you, darling?" he smiles back pointedly at her.
"Only thing I came here for," Y/N retorts, quick as lightning. "Actually, I'm hosting this after-party hoping to celebrate that too, but alas…"
"You did this?" Tom pipes up, motioning at the hall around them.
"Mm-hm. I mean, regular clubs are so passé, don’t you think?"
"That's so true. And may I say, this is quite impressive. It’s very… you." Tom's eyebrows rise, playing up his puppy dog eyes as he marvels at the place.
Harrison sees right through his bullshit moves and her bullshit taste, so he simply dismisses, "Eh, it's alright," staring down his empty glass, signaling the bartender for another drink.
"Do you wanna dance?" Tom shifts the conversation with such ease, as if there isn’t a massive elephant in the room-- if said elephant were his best friend cockblocking them.
And to make things worse (or better, depends on who sees it), she matches his frequency, too. "I'd love to. Any reason to get away from Debby Downer here."
Harrison manages a half-hearted, condescending sneer as they make their way to the dance floor, but he knows he's losing. He lets his best friend flirt with his archenemy, and of course she wouldn't miss the opportunity to land a low blow. Her dark eyes flash viciously in the dim light as she shoots him a death glare from across the room.
And he tries to prove her wrong. He tries to mingle with his other friends and acquaintances, but somehow, among a sea of guests, he can always spot Tom and Y/N on the dance floor. Right now, the shorn-haired boy has one hand on hers and the other on her hip. He spins her and dips her, probably saying something swoon-worthy as she hikes up her leg on his waist.
Giggling and getting way too close for Harrison's liking.
And no. He doesn’t have an actual preference for how close Y/N can get with Tom or how much she giggles over his jokes.
Or so he tries to convince himself.
"Mate," Tom lightly slaps his arm, snapping him out of his reverie, "Y/N's showing me around the house. Is that alright?"
"Um, yeah. Why are you asking for my permission?" he laughs it off like it's the most ridiculous question ever-- and in hindsight, it is. He has absolutely no say in who his friend or his enemy fucks.
Tom shrugs. "I don’t know. I mean, you're the one who has history with her--"
"It's really no big deal, Tom. I don't care," he cuts off, more exasperated than anything else.
"...Right. I'll text you later, then?" he pats Harrison's arm once again, this time as a goodbye.
Y/N waits for him by the entrance, and that little shit still has the gall to blow him a kiss before she takes Tom's arm and disappears into the hallway.
Some of his model friends call him out to join them, and as he downs the rest of his whiskey, Harrison comes down to the dance floor to drown in the blaring music and dancing bodies. The question pounds his head: why did he let Tom go for it? Why is he disappointed that Y/N actually plays along? Why is he so bummed about this all?
His phone buzzes in his pocket, and he’s almost relieved from its distraction.
Well. Until he reads the message.
'Master suite. 2nd floor, East Wing. Last door on the left. Stop sulking and get your shit together asap, or Tom and I will start without you ;)'
It's much easier to simply pull one of these girls who are already grinding all over him and vying for his attention. He could make eyes at any of them and they’d be happy to get cozy with him for the rest of the night. No questions asked. But he hates the idea of leaving these assholes alone more than he craves being alone. He’d lost out twice already tonight-- first to Tom, and then to Y/N for having the last word. The winning strike. He’s not gonna let her win again.
So he sets off. Across the marble floor tiles and past the Greco-Roman statues, up the winding stairs towards the east wing. It's not until he walks in that he considers the possibility of this invitation being nothing but a prank. A sick joke to shit on his miserable evening even more.
"Ugh, I hate you guys so fucking much," Harrison grumbles, fully prepared to walk back out on Tom and Y/N, making out on the gaudy king-sized bed.
But with that, she pulls away from Tom. She walks over to Harrison, hips swaying under her dress. "Took you long enough."
"Thought you weren't gonna start without me, darling." He cups her chin with his thumb and forefinger.
"Thought you were gonna lose the attitude, Harrison," she chucks his little quip back at him. But then, as quick as pushes his hand away, she pulls him in, "C'mere."
It sounds like a dirty trick, but in it, Harrison finds relief. His lips find their way to hers. Hot and warm and biting and familiar. As it should be.
Finally.
"Fuck…" Tom quietly cusses from the bed, slipping out of it to not miss the action.
Harrison even forgot that he was there for a moment-- and for a moment, he wanted to forget. He's not ready to share her just yet-- especially when said friend so graciously helps himself to unzipping Y/N's dress and peeling it off of her body. So he shoves Tom away from her-- playfully, although with a sliver of truth behind the possessive gesture.
But Tom simply catches it as friendly banter, and he comes up behind the boy and kisses his neck instead. "Just like the good old days, eh, mate?" His hands roam all over his chest, his fingers warm against his sheer lace shirt.
"Wait, you guys have done this before?" Y/N asks, curious at the two boys before her.
"We went to an all-boys boarding school…" Tom shrugs and rests his chin on Harrison's shoulder.
"We've experimented," Harrison finishes.
"Ooh, naughty," she coos, closing the gap to Tom's mouth, this time into a searing kiss. But her hand strokes the back of Harrison's head gently, almost like willing him to stay.
And wrapped up in lust and loathing sounds like enough incentive to do that.
Y/N finally breaks the kiss with Tom to resume her kiss with Harrison. He wonders if she's comparing them in her mind; see who she likes better.
And he hates how much he wants it to be him.
"Well…" she smiles slyly like she could read his mind. "Why don't you boys show me how you do it, hmm?"
It flips a switch in Harrison’s head and activates his competitive side. He pushes Tom into bed, straddles his lap and slips off his suit jacket. He drops it on the floor, revealing the black lace shirt underneath, hugging his biceps and clinging onto his chiseled body like second skin.
Tom whistles low. "You sure know how to dress up, don't ya?"
Meanwhile, Harrison peels off the leather jacket and white t-shirt off of him. "You know how to dress down."
"That's very true," he chuckles, unbuckling his friend's belt and pauses when he pushes down his pants.
The lace shirt, sheer and swirling patterns on his chest, connects to the signature Versace black-and-gold waistband, and an equally sheer and fitting pair of tights, with lace edges like garters.
It's not just a shirt. It's a fucking lingerie.
Y/N couldn't contain her gasp. Nor could she resist joining them and feeling the fabric on his thigh-- a texture she's never felt on him before, and she wishes she had sooner. "Is this for me?"
Harrison scoffs. "You wish, darling."
She looks over his shoulder-- he couldn't see it, but he can feel her knowing smile to Tom. "That means yes," she explains matter-of-factly.
"There's no shame in that, mate. Besides, for what it's worth…" Tom runs his hand all over his lace-clad chest, down the silk button line, "You look damn good in it."
The buttons come undone one by one. The lace scratches against his skin, soothed by kisses from two mouths; one along his neck, the other down his spine. The hand over his hard-on is.. firmer, stranger, but he feels her curves pressed against his back. Soft. Familiar. Inviting.
Soon enough, he lies naked on his back with both Tom and Y/N between his legs. Their tongues dance along his veiny shaft, retracing the lace patterns on his discarded lingerie until they meet right at the tip. They make out right over his cock, clashing and colliding with the pink, leaking head. It floods his senses like no other.
"Um… hello?" Harrison breaks the silence in the room-- and the kiss.
"Jesus Christ, you just can't stand not being the center of attention, can you? Gosh…" she scoffs, slapping his inner thigh lightly.
"Are you always this hard on him?" Tom turns toward her, bemused.
She only stares at him as if saying, duh.
And he stares back at her. "That's hot."
Harrison partly considers smacking his head, but Tom follows it up with taking his entire length in his mouth. Dirty smirk slobbering and swallowing him whole. And just like that, all is forgiven. He doesn't remember Tom being this bold about sucking dick in boarding school, but to be fair, it has been forever since then.
His mind is hazy, and all he could think of is the tension in his core. At this point, he couldn't care less who makes him cum, so long as he does. And just as he gets on edge, in every sense of the word, her hand grips the base of his cock and follows the rhythm of Tom's mouth. Erratic. He only vaguely registers the moans muffled into a kiss as he explodes all over his abs.
"School must've been fun for you guys, huh?" Y/N smirks as she laps up his white hot release all the way to his chiseled chest, making her way next to him.
He really should've been very pissed at her. For raining on his parade. For mocking him and putting him in place in front of Tom. For being more of a bitch than usual, if that's even possible.
But she lays her head next to him and he can see the shimmery makeup on her face and the barely visible trace of lipgloss, and he just… kisses her. Brings his hand between her legs, slipping underneath her panties.
Soaked.
Harrison hums knowingly, "You're having fun, too, it seems," circling his middle finger around her clit.
"Oh, definitely." Her eyes close and breath hitches when his finger enters her-- nearly too calm, too gentle, given everything that's happened.
Well. Up until he hears the clink of a belt buckle dropping to the floor and the shift of weight in the bed as Tom jumps back in sans clothing.
He settles between Y/N's legs and nuzzles Harrison's hand, sucking his slick, salty fingers clean off of her arousal. "Fuck, you taste so good, too."
“I know,” she chuckles, low and lazy and cocky as fuck, not even hiding how attracted she is to this fucking guy.
“May I?” he gazes up at her, fingers hooked into the waistband of her lace panties.
“Fuck yeah.”
Harrison has never wanted to kiss the smug look on her face so bad. He tries to contain her moans as Tom licks up her folds and makes his way to her clit. Distracting her by undoing her bra and putting her pebbled nipple in his mouth, one after the other, never leaving one unattended with his finger pulling and pinching. But the more he tries, the more he finds himself… disappearing from the picture. Her nails scratch into his shorn hair as she gets further and further lost in her bliss.
“Tommy…” she sighs, her back arches as her orgasm draws near.
“Mm?” he barely responds. His eyes are still shut and his mouth buried in her pussy.
She cradles the back of his head, fingernails digging into her scalp. “Make me cum.”
That makes him look up, his nose glistening from her wetness. He flashes his signature boyish smile and dives right back to it.
There’s something about Tom that Y/N is wildly drawn into. He's cheeky and playful and affable in a way that Harrison… isn't. And as much as it pisses him off to see how much she's enjoying this, he understands perfectly why she does.
She grabs his hair, though, as if beckoning him over.
And like a fucking loser, he unlatches himself from her breast and meets her gaze. "Yes, darling?"
She kisses him through her high, messy and broken with moans, and for a second, he thinks maybe whatever they have between them means something. Somehow.
“Harrison…” she calls out his name, sweet and delirious like she's about to say something nice for once. “... I don’t think you’re my favorite anymore.”
She giggles mischievously, playfully, but Harrison just sees red. Even as she bites his lower lip to reel him back in, all he can focus is her hand on Tom’s face. How she hisses when he nips at her hip. How hard she came apart under him. And all his walls build back up.
“Yeah, well. You were never my favorite, so...” he untangles himself from her and sits up, “All’s fair in love and war, right?”
“Harrison--” she reaches out for him when she notices the air thickens between them, but he’s already left the bed.
Tom props himself up on his elbows and watches Harrison disappear into the bathroom. "Mate?"
Five seconds has never felt so long as Y/N faces the possibility that she might have pushed him too far. And when he does return, she fully expects him to curse her (and maybe Tom, but definitely her) out and storm off.
But he kneels behind Tom, seizing him from behind. His kisses are sharp and biting down his back. It's the kind that stings the swell of his ass when he gets there.
He grins back at Harrison. “You guys are so chaotic. Is this what you get up to when-- shit!”
Y/N watches his entire face drop in a blind surge of ecstasy. His jaw goes lax and lets out a lazy moan as Harrison works his tongue around his taut ring of muscles. Teasing. Taming. Taking his time to work the so-called golden boy open.
“I honestly came here to fuck Y/N, but…” Tom admits.
She responds with a light swat to his shoulder. “How presumptuous of you.”
“Did I presume correctly, though?”
“Well…” she rolls her eyes and bites back a smile, which is already an answer in and of itself.
“So go on then. Fuck her,” Harrison comes back up and goads him, and she’s not sure whether he means it as an encouragement for him or an insult against her. Or both.
“You sure you’re okay with that, mate?” Tom turns his head towards him, his tone light but his eyes narrow in concern.
He sticks the tip of his finger into Tom’s ass, just enough to make his arms give, so he can get a better look at the girl laying before them. “I told you, who she fucks is none of my business. Right, darling?”
“I know, but-- fuck me…” he groans, gripping her waist tighter for support.
“While you fuck her? You sure you can handle it?” Harrison simpers devilishly.
Tom tuts. “Don’t underestimate me, bro.”
Harrison finds Y/N’s gaze boring a hole into him, firm and unwavering, like she’s trying to read him. Or make a decision. Whatever he’s doing, he’s not doing it to win her anymore and she’s not sure what to make of it.
“Top drawer, right bedstand,” she tells Harrison, both as an instruction and a sign of consent.
He promptly sets off to the bedstand, convincing himself that he’s not doing this for her with every step. He tosses a condom Tom’s way, keeping one for himself, and the latter wastes no time unwrapping it and rolling it onto his curving cock.
“Hurry up, or Tom and I’ll get started without you…” Y/N teases in a sing-songy tune, but her eyes watch him like a hawk as she gauges his reaction.
He’s calm this time. “By all means, start without me,” he replies nonchalantly as he rummages through the drawer, still looking for that lube.
“Alright then. Let’s see if that cock’s as good as your mouth,” she pulls him in with her legs around his waist.
He leans in to kiss her as he lines himself up against her opening. “Looking forward to proving it to you, darling.”
Harrison finds the lube and turns to them just in time to see them moan in pleasure, and he tries not to break the bottle in his hand. He really shouldn’t be so wound up by Tom calling her darling. It’s an awfully common term of endearment, and he's not the only one who can use it on her. Tom probably didn't mean anything by it.
“Are you just gonna stand there, or are you gonna fuck me eventually?” Tom smoothly calls him out.
For the first time since the three of them stumbled into bed, Harrison is glad that Tom is there and seems to genuinely want him. Y/N’s game has gotten so tangled up that he’s not even sure if she still wants him there. Not really. So he’s gonna make the most of it where he's wanted.
“I thought you would’ve learned a little patience since we last… experimented,” Harrison whispers in his ear, biting at his earlobe.
“Guess I haven’t.” Tom grinds his ass back into Harrison’s cock, finding a new rhythm that makes Y/N moan.
She lets out a breathy laugh. “You’re cute.”
“Why, thank you. I--” his words are cut off with the feel of cold gel on his sensitive spot. “I try to be--”
Harrison interrupts him with his cock this time, entering him in one swift thrust. He welcomes the haze that clouds his mind as Tom locks in on him, so tight and delicious around him. It allows him to forget this whole mess he's lying in.
Meanwhile, Y/N revels in how real everything feels. Tom's dick flexes inside her, pulsing and still all at once. He's thicker than Harrison-- his whole body is. His waist is slightly wider, and his hard chest presses a more solid weight on top of her. Even more so that there's Harrison and the whole weight of his ego piling up atop him…
"You alright?" Harrison checks in with Tom as the latter still lies flopped on Y/N's chest.
"Mm, very," he murmurs into her skin, kissing her lazily across her chest..
She must've seen how cock-drunk he is because the next thing she does is to cup his face and take a good look at him. "Hey… look at me. Are you good to keep going?"
"I am, I am. It's just been a while since I've last done this, Y/N. Chill out," he rambles on, kissing her for reassurance.
"I want you to not cum before I do," she instructs-- slowly, soothingly, as she scratches the back of his head. "Can you do that for me?"
Tom simply hums, so she clenches around his cock to snap him out of it. "Okay! Okay. I won't, baby, I promise."
She grins and finally kisses him back, then. "Good boy."
"You never asked me so nicely," Harrison notes as he starts to move at an unhurried pace. There's no jealousy or resentment in his words… that he intends to.
"You never play nice with me, so…" Y/N shrugs, thrusting up to meet Tom's frantic hips.
"Yeah, I'll show you nice." Harrison laughs, almost coldly so, and starts fucking Tom deeper. Harder.
It makes her head spin. Tom's completely enshrouding her with his biceps and sloppy kisses all over her neck. But she can't help but feel like Harrison's the one fucking her. His mouth is on Tom's shoulder, sucking a hickey like there's no tomorrow, but he keeps his eyes on her. Keeping his pace deliberate, so she feels every impact of his thrust.
His hand finds Tom's neck, and he feels him picking up the pace from underneath him. "Fuck, you feel so fucking good…"
"Harder," Tom manages through a strained voice.
"Where?"
He squeezes Harrison's fingers on the sides of his neck, and he's fully aware how acutely she feels it. The sheer sight of Tom blissed out and desperate before her is getting her so close, and he knows it.
"You like that, don't you?" he murmurs it into Tom's ear, but he's really saying it to her.
The two of them barely hears Tom's needy pleas of 'fuck I'm so close, fucking hell' when they come. Everything's so tight, so intimate, but at the same time, never really close enough. She's feeling his thrusts without even having him inside her. He brings her closer, but it's Tom's hand rubbing down her clit. And God, she falls apart harder than she ever had, but she also comes wishing he was closer.
They sort of stumble back into bed absent-minded, each in their own post-orgasm haze. Each of them wondering what the next move should be, now that this is over.
Tom's phone rings in his trousers pocket-- startling and saving them from another second of this awkward silence. He climbs out of bed, and fishes it out, ass hanging in the air.
"Hello?" He pauses, pulling his pants back on. "Yeah? Alright, cool. I'll be right down. No, I'm just… looking around. Think I got a bit lost," he winks back at them.
Y/N sees Harrison smile, shaking his head at his best friend, and it makes the air a bit lighter in the room.
"Harry and Jacob just arrived, so. I'm gonna head back downstairs and… give you guys a little privacy-- I think you really needed it. But, uh," Tom grins, all bright and cheery, "That was a lot of fun, guys. See ya!"
The door closes and the lighthearted air disappears with him. Right now there's just Y/N and Harrison sitting on opposite ends of the bed, still trying to process what just happened.
Harrison finally opens up, "I--"
"I'm gonna go to the bathroom," she says at the exact same time, wasting no time to rush off to the ensuite.
When she comes back, Harrison's already buttoning up his bodysuit back on, and she's almost disappointed that she can't admire this look on him a little longer.
"You're leaving," she says, more of a statement than a question.
"Yeah, um." He looks like he's about to say something, but just… studies her face from across the room.
"What?"
"Did you mean that?" He plays it off by glancing down on his shirt buttons. "When you said I wasn't your favorite anymore?"
And there it is. So he was pressed about that, she notes in her mind. In all honesty, she meant it as a joke. But they also don't open up and be vulnerable with each other. So she settles for the next best thing.
"I don't pick favorites," she ultimately answers. "But if I did…"
Harrison looks up, reluctantly resigned with how much he still wants it to be him.
But her words just hang in the air, and eventually she shakes her head. This is simply not the relationship they have. "Nah. Nevermind."
But he gets it. He smiles, for the first time in a while, a genuine smile at her. "Right." It's not quite the answer he's hoping for, and not quite the reaction he wants to give, but it's something.
"Besides," she pipes up, the cheekiness coming back to her pretty features, "I think if I were to decide, I would need to fuck you first."
"Didn't we just--"
"No…" she steps closer, and Harrison has never felt more naked in his life, even though she's the one wearing nothing. "Tom fucked me and you fucked Tom. I think it's hardly fair, isn't it?"
She wraps her arms around his waist and he welcomes it with open arms. "Good point. We'd better go ahead and make it fair, then, darling."
She kisses his jawline, already unbuttoning his shirt again. "Gladly."
***
Tagging my beloved moots who might be interested? @angel-holland @spidey-sophie @worldoftom @cocoamoonmalfoy @thegirlintheswivelchair @lovelytholland @violetlilysunshine @spideyssunshine @spideyspeaches @annathesillyfriend @hotforharrison @kiwi-bitchez @selfcarecap @awkward-darkness @bi-writes @hollandsrecs @hollandsmushroom @kelieah <3
anyway i hope you enjoyed it and i'd love to hear what you think in the comments, reblogs, or asks! thank you so much for reading!
