ashhhh :p ok so like imagine u just cummed and tom is like all riled up from it so he asks u to do it again or something along those lines, "you can give me another one, can't you baby? for me, please?"
hi bb, ly, feel better 💞
insatiable
tom holland x fem!reader | smut 18+ MDNI | blurb
Being fucked senless by Tom at 3 AM in the morning isn't a regular occurrence for you. But he is insatiable today.
You're on your knees while he's on top of you, his length buried to the hilt inside you. He fills you, stretching you open till you're a moaning mess for him, gasping and writhing like there's no tomorrow.
"I'm gonna cum," you drawl, words slurring because this is the third orgasm of the night and you can barely hold yourself up.
Tom ploughs into you, sliding in and out in that perfect rhythm of his and God, you fucking love it. You feel feral even now, fueled by the sound of skin slapping against skin. Tom's gripping your tits for dear life, lips sucking delightfully on the skin of your shoulder.
"Fuck," you moan as you cum, so hard, it makes you see light behind your shut eyes.
You fall to the bed in a tangle of limbs and sweaty skin, body shaking fervently. Tom is still inside you as he turns you to the side and kisses your neck, slow at first and then he's marking you up. Only then do you notice that he's still hard, your walls pathetically clenching around him.
"What's gotten into you today?" you whisper, hardly finding the energy to say the words but you throw them out anyway.
Tom's hand finds your left breast and kneads it, as he dips his head to kiss your neck.
"I don't know, maybe your little black dress drove me crazy," he says, grunting as he lets his hand pinch and tease your nipple.
Again?
You can feel your body start to heat up again but your limbs ache like you've been to battle and back and your cunt feels sore.
"Tommy, I'm tired," you voice shakily, as Tom's hand starts to trail towards your abdomen again.
He adjusts himself a bit inside you and you moan, feeling that familiar ball grow inside your core. You find yourself devoid of words as his hand continues its motion to your folds.
"Baby," you whimper, as he starts to move inside you again and your toes curl as your already weakened core starts to feel tight once more.
You're aching all over and you can barely keep your eyes open, but the high is so fucking good and so fucking addicting.
Tom lets his fingers find your clit and circle it slowly so as to not hurt you even more, and yet, a shrill scream of his name from you reverberates through your joint bodies.
Your mouth hangs open, soft whimpers tumbling out as he continues to pump into you, fingers fucking your cunt faster now.
You can barely see anything in the dark or feel anything except the growing hum of an orgasm in your aching body. You feel like you weigh a million bricks and as light as a feather at the same time. But slowly yet surely, Tom's nimble fingers and hard cock push you to the edge.
"Come for me, darling," he demands into your ear, voice husky, his motions becoming faster and you're once again being lifted on that familiar wave of pleasure.
Fuck, you can barely keep up.
"You can give me another one, can't you baby?" he asks again, and you're panting now, body starting to vibrate with the building orgasm.
He's thrusting impossibly fast and urgent, lips latched onto the skin of your neck. Lips tucked between your teeth, you try your hardest not to mewl as your hips move with his, riding him and his fingers until you're tipping over to the other side.
"For me, please?" he begs, voice low and his keen desperation is enough to send you hurtling into that blissful space, pleasure tearing out of you in the form of a loud wail.
You feel Tom's cock pulse inside you, relieved that he was able to come, because you're dripping now and another round might just kill you.
"You're so fucking good to me," Tom says, kissing your neck and carefully pulling himself out.
After four rounds, you feel devastatingly hollow with him gone but your body begs for repose.
"Are you satisfied yet?" you mumble, as Tom settles beside you, pulling you into his embrace and kissing you softly.
"Four times ought to do it."
"Never," he whispers, smoothly kissing up the painful marks he had left. You feel the lull of sleep and your eyes shut on their own just as Tom kisses up at your ear.
peter parker is in love with his high school best friend, michelle jones, and you are in love with peter’s roommate, harry osborn. when mj and harry start dating, you and peter test your limits in a situation that “benefits” the both of you. how far will the two of you go to satisfy each others’ loneliness?
inspired by the anime kuzu no honkai.
genres: university au, friends to lovers, friends with benefits, fake dating, unrequited love
warnings: explicit content (18+ only), mature themes, drug and alcohol usage, angst
wc: 49k
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Synopsys: As if getting caught up into the cliché trap of falling in love with your best friend and having to watch as he falls for someone else wasn’t enough, the universe has decided to take a step further in punishing you, turning your existence in a not-so-figurative life or death situation. Your closest confident is now the reason behind your pain, your anchor the very thing that’s dragging you down...
Word Count: 5.960k
Warnings: English not being my first language, angst, hanahaki disease, so unrequited love and blood, a bit of fluff, a hint of smut... the usual you should expect from me I guess~
Peter Parker Masterlist
General Masterlist
A/n: ... after the absolute filthiness of my last vampire!Tom blurb, I needed something to cleanse my soul, so here is an angsty Peter fic with my attempt at Hanahaki!au (aka watch me writing anything but Unscripted because I emotionally scarred myself with it well done Lia well done)~ hope you enjoy it 💜
“Peter?”
You blinked repeatedly, as if you couldn’t believe your own eyes.
The sight of your best friend perched on the windowsill of your college dorm, without his suit, taking the foolish risk of being seen and discovered, was something you were convinced you would never get to see again.
Peter waved awkwardly, his big puppy eyes betraying a certain insecurity, something he was certain he’d never get to experience when talking to you. You were his safe harbour, the person whose presence he felt comfortable enough with to let all his masks dissolve.
He could let go of Spider-Man, of the orphan, of the young man who carried so much onto his shoulders, of the brave, cheerful façade he sometimes forced himself to put on not to worry his aunt and friends… until all that was left was Peter Parker sound asleep in your arms.
Now though, that same Peter Parker was scared. Scared that you would turn your back to him just like you had stopped talking to him all at once, through a dry text on how you needed to spend some time alone, isolated from everything and everyone.
He had jokingly pointed out that it would’ve been kinda hard while bouncing between classes and your part-time job. No answer had come from you.
So, after an entire week of complete radio silence from your part, Peter had decided to take matters into his own hands.
“Mind if I come in?”, he finally found the courage to ask.
You knew you should’ve told him to go away, that now that he was trying to get a girlfriend, sneaking into your room at night wasn’t exactly the best way to proceed about it, but your stupid body unconsciously betrayed you, stepping aside and nodding like you had done so many times before, effectively inviting him inside.
Force of habit, you told yourself, and you were also doing it to protect his secret identity. Wallowing in that stupid lie was way more reassuring and less scary than admitting that Peter’s absence affected you as if a vital organ had been brutally ripped away from under your flesh.
Not that you really needed to admit that, to be honest, considering that you were not so metaphorically dying because of unrequited love… but still, it was one last stubborn fight to preserve what little was left of your dignity.
“W-what are you doing here?”, you babbled, unable to keep your hands from fidgeting and already starting to feel a strange movement in your chest, the threatening, delicate caress of a soft petal unfolding in your left lung. Right next to your heart, how pathetically cliché.
“Just checking on my best friend.” Peter deadpanned, allowing his gaze to wander around your room, looking for any sign that could tell him what was going on with you. But it all looked the same and his spider sense kept buzzing in the back of his mind without any alteration, a white noise he had reluctantly gotten used to it when it came to you.
“Who’s been avoiding me for some reason”, he added when his eyes landed on the picture frame lying face down on your desk.
“I haven’t”, you objected weakly, caught in your lie like a deer in headlights.
His lips pressed into a hard line, in a frown that tasted likr both anger and pain, and he took a step closer, picking the frame up to examine it. He didn’t really need any other clue, but your bright, smiley childish faces staring back at him felt like a stab through his heart.
It was the first pic the two of you had taken together, something you had always described as your most prized possession. And now you didn’t want to see it, just like you didn’t want to see him.
“You have”, Peter insisted, starting to feel tears burning in his throat. He clenched his jaw, trying to hold them back and – before he could break it – put the pic back in its place.
“Fine, I can’t stand you. Happy now?”, you scoffed, hoping this coldness could pacify the sensation in your chest. In a desperate attempt to save yourself that wouldn’t involve a surgery and a definitive memory loss. You wanted to trick the invisible monster, so that it would eventually lead your heart to believe that there was not an ounce of love left in you that could be given to your best friend.
Better to keep him in your life shielded behind a veil of denial and poorly fabricated indifference, than to lose him to darkness forever.
Of course, it didn’t work in the slightest: you simply couldn’t lie to yourself. And that love was no longer yours to give: it belonged to Peter and Peter alone, whether he wanted it or not.
Clearly not amused by your joke, Peter turned around, actually taking you in for the first time after so many days. And it felt like a punch in his gut.
You shrunk under his incandescent gaze, crossing your arms over your chest. “What?”, you spat defensively.
“You look…”, he trailed off, at complete loss for words.
“Like shit, you can say it.”
And felt like it, too. Isolating yourself and being away from him had turned out to be useless because, even while basically having entered your Rapunzel era, Peter was still all you could think about.
Even now that he was standing in the middle of your tiny bedroom, physically within reach yet miles away from you, you couldn’t bring yourself to believe his presence there was wrong, that that wasn’t where he was supposed to be.
Which didn’t exactly help with the whole Hanahaki situation going on.
“… annihilated.”
“That’s a big word, did MJ teach you that?”, you sneered, trying to move past him to go and sit on your bed. Your legs were starting to feel like jelly, you couldn’t collapse right in front of him or you wouldn’t have heard the end of it.
“Don’t change the subject”, Peter hissed, grabbing your elbow, not harshly enough to hurt you, but firmly enough to stop you and keep you in place. “You’re sick.”
You froze, the sudden proximity and contact spreading fire under your skin and at the same time constricting your lungs. “It’s nothing”, you forced out as naturally as you could.
“Doesn’t look like nothing to me”, he pointed out, an unusual and new scent of flowers coming from your body not going unnoticed by him. He couldn’t explain it to himself: it wasn’t bad, but it didn't smell like any of the perfumes you would use on a daily basis… and yet, it was so… you.
“You’d be surprised how many things can look like nothing”, you instinctively retorted, pulling your arm from his grip, and you had to bite your tongue not to add a couple more words that you were aware would’ve ruined everything beyond repair.
To you.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”, Peter inquired, narrowing his eyes at you.
“Dunno”, you shrugged, dismissing the whole thing. “It sounded like a cool thing to say.”
“y/n…”, he sighed tiredly, trying to resonate with you. “What is going on?”
No response came from you and he gulped when he heard your heartbeat slow down almost imperceptibly. Almost, because Peter had made that rhythm his own, and he had come to know it like the back of his hand. He had regulated his life onto it, his peace nestled in those brief little fragments of seconds inside your ribcage.
“I missed you…”, he confessed. “I miss my y/n.” And he missed the way your heart spoke to him, that sweet, comforting sound that never failed to let him know that everything was okay. But now it spoke a foreign language, so alien that he couldn’t even try to learn it, let alone comprehend it.
“I missed you, too”, you admitted in a thin voice.
“Then why are you avoiding me? What happened?”
“Nothing, Peter”, you repeated softly, with a light shake of your head, letting your lips indulge on the beloved syllables of his name. “I promise it’s nothing.”
“Stop lying to me!”, Peter yelled, the unexpected change in his tone making you jump in surprise. Not in fear. Never in fear.
He immediately regretted raising his voice – and especially raising it at you – but he was mad, worried, and hurt, and your lack of answer did nothing to ease his feelings. If anything, it drove him even madder.
What he had told you was the truth: he did miss you. He missed you like air, he understood he had done something wrong, and he wanted to make it better, he wanted you to feel better… but you weren’t giving him the chance to do that – whatever that was.
For fuck’s sake, he would’ve given you a litre of his own blood, had you told him it was the solution you needed, but you were denying yourself to be helped… and he couldn’t have it that way. He wouldn’t.
“I’m sorry”, he added quickly, reaching out for your hands and taking them in his. He winced at how cold they were.
You let him do that, not putting up any resistance when he took another step in your direction. You just wanted him to hold you tight and never let go of you, was it too much to ask?
Apparently it was, because your name wasn’t MJ Watson.
“It’s okay”, you breathed out, and your voice was so thin that, hadn’t it been for his enhanced hearing, your best friend wouldn’t have heard it.
God every part of you was beginning to hurt so much from his proximity… but it was so nice to have him that close and touching you so tenderly… you would’ve gladly prolonged that pain for eternity. You would’ve died for it.
You realised how stupid you had been to avoid him, all the time you could’ve spent next to him was now lost forever and it was a blasphemy of the worst kind.
Peter placed your palms onto his chest and kept them there in hope his super-human warmth would bring you any comfort, then let go of them and cupped your cheeks, gently tilting your face up so that you would look at him.
He saw your eyes glistening with tears, and it tore him apart to notice how similar they looked to when they were filled with joy. It dawned upon him now, how sad your happiness truly was, like something obscure wouldn’t allow you to experience anything good ever again.
He couldn’t exactly pinpoint when, but the light in your smile had gradually begun to fade, consumed by a slow, but inexorable melancholy that was weakening not only your soul, but your body as well.
“You’re… you’re…”, Peter stuttered, then went quiet, his voice failing him. He couldn’t bring himself to vocalise them, but the words loomed above your heads like a menacing dark fog. What he wanted to say was cruelly obvious and the fact that you didn’t deny it did nothing but prove his theory right.
It wasn’t a simple illness… you were dying.
“No…”
The ground crumbled under his feet, the air turning to dust in his lungs. How could you have hidden that from him? How could he have been so blind not to see it?
“No, it can’t be.”
Your figure became blurred in his eyes, getting reduced to a splash of colours that barely resembled you on the other side of a thick barrier of tears. But he was too scared to wipe them away, filled with the horrible suspicion that you would vanish from his sight if he only dared to try.
“L-let me help you”, he begged with a broken voice. “Please, y/n, let me help you.”
“Peter…”
“Please…”
You shook your head, taking a deep breath despite the piercing pain spreading in your torso. “There’s nothing you can do.”
Frustration bubbled up in his stomach at those words, a mess of emotions clashing in his mind and heart. No, he refused to believe it. “Don’t say it.”
“It’s true.”
“Shut up”, Peter hissed, clenching his jaw. How could you be so stubbornly calm and almost resigned about it?
He was your best friend, you were one of the most important people in his life, he cared about you more than he cared about anyone else, more that he cared about himself, he couldn’t imagine his existence without you… there was no way in the World he couldn’t do anything to help you.
“Peter, there’s no point–”
“I said shut up.”
Like there was some kind of specific correlation between what he was doing and showing you that he could do something to help you, Peter yanked you forward, crashing his lips onto yours as your chests collided with an audible thud.
He kissed you with the ferocious passion of a desperate man, his arms wrapping themselves around you like ivy, caging you in a suffocating, yet freeing embrace, his hands exploring the mysteries of a body he had criminally taken for granted for too long.
Your incredulity didn’t have a long life, the pain long forgotten as your fingers got lost in his hair, wearing the soft locks like the most precious jewellery. You kissed him back as if you were engaging in the fight of your life, effortlessly following his lead like you had been created to do just that in your existence.
Never breaking the contact, Peter hastily backed you up towards your small bed and unceremoniously pushed you down onto the mattress, wasting no time in covering your body with his and getting between your thighs, immediately starting to grind his core against yours.
Just as eagerly, you wrapped your legs around his hips and gripped his shoulders pulling him in and breathlessly whimpering his name as soon as your hungry mouths parted, like that could’ve drawn him even closer.
You had dreamed of this moment for so long, you weren’t going to complain, no matter how unexpected all of it was.
“Peter…”
“That’s…” Peter threw his head back, licking his lips, still savouring your taste, an obscenely blissed out expression on his face as his grunts mixed with your soft moans. “That’s the only thing I wanna hear from you.”
The sight was nothing short of divine. Almost as divine as the feeling of knowing that, hadn’t it been for the layers of clothing separating your bodies, he would’ve been making you his, ruining you for anyone else… after all, he had already done that to your heart.
You gasped when, without warning, he grabbed the collar of your shirt and pulled, tearing it down the middle, his eyes going round and shining bright when your bare breasts came into view.
“Beautiful…”, he purred in contemplation, letting his thumb circle one of your nipples. The whine that simple touch elicited from you emboldened him and, with a devilish grin, he attached his mouth to your skin.
“Peter!”, you yelped, a hand tangling itself through his soft messy curls and the other one fisting his shirt and yanking the fabric. You needed the damn thing off, you wanted to touch him. Feel him.
“Shh”, he cooed, kissing your sternum as a particularly sharp thrust dragged another moan out of your lips. “I got you, petal”
Petal.
It was just a word, yet it was all it took you to remember how things really were, to understand what was truly going on in that precise moment.
And what was going on was that your best friend – whom you loved more than words could convey – was trying to fuck you and that you were letting him. And what was worse, was that he probably – no, he definitely – just wanted to practice, so that he could be ready for when he would do those things with his true love. MJ.
That was all you had become to him, you painfully realised. What remained of his best friend, was now nothing more than a chance to test himself and his abilities.
“P-Peter…”
Your fingers wrapped themselves around his wrist, barely encircling it, and the original intention was to remove his hand from you, but you only ended up keeping it there, even arching your back to give him better access to your body.
“No.”
Yes.
It was so fucking wrong it almost became right. Almost.
“Stop…”
He didn’t hear you, too absorbed by how amazingly right you felt in his arms, on his lips, against him…
Peter discovered that the more he took from you, the more he wanted to give you. He discovered that he needed to be inside of you, that he longed to have you under him, praising how good he was making you feel, telling him how much you cared about him, repeating his name until it would no longer make sense to his ears.
That night, Peter discovered that he wanted to make love to you. Not MJ, you. His y/nn.
“Stop…”
No, he didn’t just want to make love to you.
He wanted to hold your hand, tickle you so much you would cry-laugh, then kiss those tears away as his lips traced every inch of your face. He wanted to fall asleep with his head in your lap and your fingers in his hair as you read for him, he wanted to wake up next to you, whisper cute silly compliments in your ear, he wanted to make you smile and pinch your cheeks.
He wanted to yell to the whole World how lucky he was to have you by his side. And that would’ve meant murmuring in your ear while you were cuddled up against each other, because he wanted you to be his World.
Peter Benjamin Parker discovered that he was in love with you.
“I SAID STOP!”, you screamed with what little remained of your breath, the strangled shattered sound that left your throat dragging him out of that inexplicable delight and turning his blood to ice.
He had heard you this time.
Panic washed over him, the suspect that he might have made you uncomfortable, or worse, hurt you, slithering up his spine and sinking its fangs into the back of his neck, poisoning the ecstasy that had descended upon him. “y/n, what–”
He didn’t get to finish the sentence because you shoved him off of you – more like, he let you – and turned to your side, hunching over yourself as you coughed uncontrollably, blood and petals spilling between the fingers covering your mouth.
Peter smelled it before he saw it, but there was something unusual about it, a note to that scent that shouldn’t have been there.
Hyacinths.
It made no sense, but you were coughing hyacinths.
The dreadful discovery, and all that followed in its wake, hit him like a fucking high-speed train.
No…
What had he done?
When he touched your shoulder, you tried to get away from that bed, from him, and you didn’t know if that was helping you or just hurting you more. It was all pointless, tough, because as soon as your feet touched the floor, you fell like a marionette that’d just got its strings cut off.
“Y/N!!!”
Peter rushed crawled off the bed in a hurry, not giving a damn about his hands touching the bloody sheets, and took you in his arms as he sat on the floor, scorching tears once again clouding his eyes, terror and guilt doing the same to his brain, the spider sense going off like crazy.
You were dying. And now it was because he was killing you.
“Nonononono…”
Red and purple were filling his vision. They were painting your mouth, your throat, your chest, and now his own clothes. But he couldn’t let go of you. He couldn’t let go of his love.
“y/n!”
“Y-your shirt…”, you shivered, coughing more blood and petals “I’m sorr–”
“No, love, no”, Peter shushed you, caressing your face in hope that could bring you some relief. He began to stand up, but you winced at the slightest movement, so he was forced to stop and resume his previous position, cradling you like he was afraid to break you. “There’s nothing to be sorry about, you’re gonna be okay, you hear me? Y-you’re gonna be okay because we have to go on a date.”
He was rambling now, imprisoned in a merciless fight against time, death and all sorts of regrets he never thought he would get up until that moment.
He regretted every single time he looked at you without seeing you and every single time he did see you, but decided not to.
“We have to, get it? A-and we have to because I have to kiss you, because I have to spend the entire time telling you how much I love you, okay? Did you hear that? I love you, I love you, I love you…”
You pressed the side of your face against his chest, trying to focus on the beating of his heart so that it would block everything out. Everything that wasn’t the two of you in that moment.
If that was going to be your end, you wanted it to be with Peter.
“I love you, too”, you exhaled, as all your strength slowly started to abandon you. So that was it, then. Only a few instants of love for a life spent wishing it from afar. But that love came from Peter, your Peter, and that made it worth it.
You looked up and a pained smile appeared on your lips as Peter cupped your cheek. You reached out to push his hair out of his face, only sparing the rebel lock you adored so much.
Peter sniffed, crying uncontrollably, the tiny little drops falling onto your skin, mixing with your own.
“I’d love to go on that date.”
“W-we will…”
You were about to nod when your body stiffened all at once, then went inert in his arms, your hand falling limp by your side as you fell into the dark.
“y/n!!!”
Waking up felt like a fist colliding with your chest, forcing air back into your lungs as a striking white light blinded you. Out of pure instinct, you threw an arm over your eyes to protect them.
“Oh, you’re awake”, someone stated, causing you to look to your left and raise your arm, focusing on the silhouette of a female figure. A doctor was standing next to your bed, hands tucked in the pockets of her immaculate coat and an indecipherable expression on her face. “How are you feeling?”
You opened your mouth to answer, but then you realised what you were about to say. Good. You were feeling good.
More puzzled than ever, you pushed yourself up on your elbows until you were in a sitting position, the fatigue and ache you were expecting to feel while doing so, were nowhere to be found in that hospital room.
You pressed a hand against your sternum and felt nothing but a regular, perfectly healthy pulse. “W-what happened?”, you wondered, looking back at the doctor, who was still observing you in silence.
“Hanahaki disease”, the woman explained, not that you really needed to know. “And in a pretty advanced stage, too, judging by the quantity of blood and fully grown flowers”, she added. “But don’t worry: you’re good now, everything’s okay.”
Judging from her face, maybe she was expecting some sort of reaction, but you just stared at her in complete silence, pure confusion written all over your features.
“Spider-Man found you and brought you here.”
Your jaw dropped, your eyebrows shooting up to your hairline and your confusion transitioning to disbelief. “He has… are you serious?”
So that meant everything that happened wasn’t just a dream…
The doctor nodded, looking a bit perplexed by your question. That didn’t last long, though. “You must’ve scared the life out of him”, she went on, smiling to herself as she got lost in the memory of meeting a superhero. Not the most professional behaviour to adopt with a patient who had just dodged death lying right there… but you couldn’t really blame her, after all.
“I’ve spent like half an hour reassuring him that you were fine”, she recalled, tucking her hair behind her ear, and you had to fight the urge to roll your eyes.
But as it usually happened, your little brain needed to be triggered by words and that was exactly how things went, making you come to the realisation that all that talk about Peter bringing you to the hospital had taken your attention away from a quite important topic.
In all fairness, you weren’t always this slow – your constant anxiety and overthinking wouldn’t allow it –, but you had nearly died: you figured you could cut yourself some slack for needing a bit more time to put two and two together.
At first the doctor had told you that you were good, now that you were fine. Subtle variations to communicate the same message.
“But to be honest, I understand where he came from: you were covered in blood… one of the interns actually fainted as soon as he saw you. We all thought there was nothing that could be done to–”
“Wait, what did you just say?”, you interrupted her, and that startled her a little. Maybe you were coming off as rude, too, but you didn’t really have time to worry about that.
“That you made an intern faint?”, she repeated, arching an eyebrow. “It was his first round, poor guy–”
“No, the ‘me being fine’ part”, you specified, cutting her off again. It was urgent, manners could wait. “What do you mean?”
“You healed”, the doctor said as if it was the most obvious thing ever. “You’re safe now.”
You were not quite sure why she would feel the need to repeat it, and the suspect that she probably thought your confusion was nothing but mere dumbness did cross your mind, but you chose not to question it.
“In fact, you were already safe when you got here. All we had to do was remove the last flowers you couldn’t spit out when you fainted.”
Your jaw dropped dramatically, your eyes nearly popping out of their sockets, the loudest “What?” blocked in your throat, between your vocal cords, without a chance of getting out.
When it became clear that you wouldn’t be able to emit another sound, your gaze fell into your lap, focusing entirely on your folded hands, on the skin you had relentlessly tormented during those last three months and a half. It was a habit you had made yours really quickly, the cuts and scratches on your fingers requiring the excuse of a new cooking course to cover their origin.
Peter had been the hardest to convince, and part of you wanted to believe that it was because of some sort of special connection the two of you shared, a bond that made it impossible for one to lie to the other, or some hopelessly romantic shit like that.
And as you stared at what you had done to yourself in the name of your unrequited love for him you couldn’t force things to make sense for the life of you.
The previous doctor you had talked to had been clear about it, stating that you had only two options to save yourself: an extremely dangerous surgery with very little chance of success, or doing your best to fall out of love with Peter.
But you still remembered Peter. You still loved him… and yet somehow you were no longer ill. So how…
“I feel like I gave you too much information altogether…”, the doctor commented, giving you a weird look you didn’t even notice. “I’m gonna leave you now, so you can rest a bit more, okay? You’re still weak.”
With that, she left the room, without bothering to wait for an answer that wasn’t going to come anyway.
You didn’t move a muscle, staring into the void with your head hung low, the terrifying, sublime sensation of something both worse and better than despair weighting on your shoulders. It was the faintest spark of hope, and you would’ve gladly let it flare up and burn you to the ground.
A little noise dragged you out of your thoughts, and it took you nothing to recognize it: it was the sound of scratching on glass, and that could only mean one thing.
You turned towards the window, finding Spider-Man cautiously peaking his head in. “Peter?”, you exhaled, releasing a breath you had no idea you were holding.
“Uhm… hey…” You could perceive the insecurity in his voice, and even with his face being completely covered, you just knew that a soft baby pink was dusting his cheeks and ears. “I know it’s past visit-time, but… mind if I come in?”
For a few seconds, seeing him there, hearing him asking you that brought you back to your room, with flowers growing in your lungs, a shirt he hadn’t torn, lips he hadn’t claimed and a body he hadn’t touched nor tried to make his. A love he hadn’t poured on you.
“Y-yes…”
Peter carefully stepped inside the room, shutting the window behind him and taking off his mask – him being so comfortable doing it had to have something to do with Karen hacking the security cameras, you were more than positive about that.
“H-hey”, he waved nervously, taking a look around, the thought of you having to stay there on your own making him uncomfortable. Yes, he knew you were no longer in danger, but how could they leave you alone like that after what just happened?
“Hey.”
“Uhm…” He scratched the nape of his neck, chewing on his lips. “I wanted to bring you flowers”, he finally managed to say something coherent, immediately cursing himself for it. “B-but then I thought… you know…”
“It’s okay.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yes”, you confirmed, patting the mattress and scooting over a bit in a silent invitation. “They say I’m good now.”
“And what do you say?”, Peter insisted, sitting right next to you, maybe closer than needed. “Are you feeling good?”
You nodded, letting him take your hands in his, your past lies blatantly clear in every small wound his eyes were able to find. Guilt washed over him as he gently brushed his fingertips over them, wishing he could kiss the pain away, wishing that you would let him.
“I should’ve known”, he muttered.
“I’m a better liar than you think”, you joked, lightly bumping your forehead against his, causing him to let out a bitter chuckle. “I’m sorry if I scared you.”
“You’re sorry?”, Peter echoed you in shock, barely dropping your hands. “You are apologising to me?”
“… for scaring you”, you repeated quietly, hanging your head low. “And lying to you.”
“You’re…” Frustrated and at loss for words, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Come here, you idiot” , he said then, opening his arms in resignation.
The simple gesture felt like a miraculous ointment on your soul and you let yourself fall into his tight embrace, nostalgia washing over you like a tsunami. Hiding your face into the crook of his neck, you inhaled the fresh scent of his soap, discovering that even the coarse material of his suit rubbing onto your cheek and irritating your skin was something that you had deeply missed.
“You’re incredible, I swear”, Peter broke the silence, caressing your back in an improvised massage. “You’re lucky that I’m in love with you, or I would swing out of this room right after a sentence like that.”
You tensed up and he perceived that, but he didn’t let go of you.
“I don’t love MJ.”
“What?”, you hummed, keeping your face buried in his chest. It seemed so real, but you weren’t sure you could actually believe it. It would mean having to be vulnerable, coming out of your emotional trenches end exposing yourself to the wonderfully frightening possibility of being worthy of love.
Of Peter Parker’s love.
“I do not love her. I thought I did. I don’t.” He was speaking about it so calmly, like she truly represented nothing but a simple friend in his eyes.
It sounded to good to be true.
“Peter, you’re just saying this because–”
“Oh no, don’t you dare”, Peter stopped you with the most adorable pout. This time, it was him who squeezed your shoulders and pushed you back just enough to look into your eyes, forcing you to listen to him.
“I love you”, he declared firmly, leaving no space for misinterpretation.
Part of you wanted to look away in shame, but you didn’t. Appealing to all your courage, you held his golden-brown gaze, the mesmerizing warmth hitting you like it was the first time. Could you accept that light in your life?
“I've been an idiot not to realise it sooner”, Peter reprimanded his stupid past self. “And I know I showed it in a terrible way – probably the worst way possible –, a-and I hate that I almost had to lose you to understand it, but, I love you. I’m in love with you. You and only you, y/n.”
His eyebrows knit together, determination dripping from his tone. “And I don’t care what you say, I’m gonna repeat it to exhaustion if that’s what it takes to get it in that head of yours.”
He chocked on his own breath, his heart skipping a beat at the thought of you considering him an asshole. “Wait, no, I do care about what you have to say”, he tried to clarify. “Please do tell me what you have to say, that was just me being dramatic, please don’t think I don’t care, because I do, I care so much–”
“Peter.” You calling his name, combined with your fingertips touching his lips, effectively silenced him, and the poor guy stared back at you like a lost puppy, waiting for your verdict.
His hands descended onto your waist, toying with the hem of your shirt. You melted into his touch, dragging the pads your fingers along his chapped bottom lip. He mindlessly kissed them, making warmth spread along your cheeks and ears.
“… if it’s not you saying that you love me, I don’t wanna hear it.”
It took Peter a while to fully process what you just told him, the rejection he was expecting only worsening his discomfort, but when he did… oh Lord, his smile would’ve put the sun to shame.
There was nothing more beautiful in the whole universe than Peter’s joy, a mesmerizing spectacle you were incredibly grateful to be witnessing. It was like welcoming an entire sunrise in your being, a thousand little sparks blooming inside of your chest. What was once filled with deadly petals carrying your sorrow, was now blessed with the light of his love.
And there was no need to accept that light: it was already filling your heart and you had no intention of letting it go.
“Not even if it’s me saying how much I love you?”, he teased you, his breath tickling your fingertips, the hypnotizing movement of his mouth when those three last words left it a sight that would forever be engraved in your memory.
You pretended to ponder it. “I guess we can make an exception.”
Usually, words tended to lose their meaning when pronounced one too many times. But that didn’t happen to Peter Parker.
Because there could never be one too many times when the topic was his love for you.
A/n: Thank you so much for reading this! Let me know what you think, if you feel like it, I’d love to hear your thoughts 💜
Peter Parker taglist: @omegadumb42069 @spideyspeaches
(Let me know if you wanna be added or removed, add yourself to my taglist or follow me on my writing side-blog @lia-s-liabrary and turn the notifications on)
moving from london to new york, tom misses a lot about home. late nights laughing and sharing with his friends and family, but mostly you. a year later, you visit him for a few days and see what he's been up to. as you go around the city, he takes photos of you to remember the time you're spending together. you both pick up from where you left off yet at the same time, you have to figure out what's going to happen after vacation is over. it's as if your relationship is running out of time.
A/N : if im being honest, felt so weird basing a fic with mostly smut/intimate moments but i hope its not too much (?) lmao but i sort of have a hard time writing these kind of fics because i dont want it all to be smut. i still had fun writing it obviously but i have so many other wips that i cant wait to share!!! thank u for the love and support always for my work! hope i get to write way more during this summer
𑁍 masterlist 𑁍
The sun was barely over the horizon as Tom stretched his arms over his head. He twisted his back, cracking the aches, and rubbed the back of his neck with his smooth palm. It was a peaceful time in the first hours of the day with no traffic passing by and the birds chirping in the trees below his view.
Just as he extended his arms above his head again, your two arms wrapped around his waist. Tom smiled to himself, looking down at your hands as they ran across his skin and grazing your nails against his torso. Your knees sank into the bed when you leaned in behind him, kissing his bare shoulder before playfully biting his lobe.
“Good morning.” You smiled, your arms still around him and running your hands over his toned chest.
“Mornin’.” He lazily chuckled.
Your lips brushed his ear, “Have anything planned today?” You asked him.
“Hmm, nothing specific in mind.” He answered, leaning his head back as your hands continued to slowly move over his body, “Do you?”
You giggled, “What about seeing how many times I can cum for you?” You grinned as your right behind slid under the band of his boxers. His cock was semi-hard, but you wrapped your hand around his base and glided your thumb over his tip.
Tom didn’t expect your gesture, but smirked anyways before pulling away to turn around to you. You wore his white t-shirt from the day before, seeing how perky your nipples were through the fabric from the low sunlight coming in.
He placed his hands on the small of your back before wrapping his mouth on your clothed left nipple. The fabric became wet as he pressed his tongue on the barrier, teasing you as his hand caressed your right breast. You arched your neck back with a smirk painted on your lips, letting out a faint moan as his hand slip under your thin shirt. You loved how tender his touch was– realizing how much you missed it compared to other guys you hooked up in London.
It had been a few hours since you landed in New York and you were relieved when meeting the arms of your best-friend, Tom. After receiving a job as a photographer for a local skateboarding brand, you could only contact him through the phone. Constant, but long facetime calls where it was your late afternoon and his early morning, talking about your days and what your plans were, even flirting about the few desperate photos either of you sent the nights prior.
Tom missed you, but mostly your relationship. Before he left, you two started from a playful friendship and turned into platonic sex every other day. You grew up together and shared the same school friends, but there was something you found in one another throughout all those years. Just like yourselves, your relationship matured as you were finishing your year 13 at each of your schools.
The first time was confusing, wondering if you would be speaking to one another as you buttoned your white, school uniform top. Tom pondered the same as he fixed his tie, trying to find his jacket with his school’s emblem on the chest.
Accidentally, you both grabbed the wrong ones off the floor and chuckled as you switched them. You would turn back to look at the mess of sheets on your bed, hoping that your mom wouldn’t come home early.
“So, your graduation party is next week right?” He asked, gulping.
“Yeah… are you gonna be there?” You asked.
He smiled, “Of course. I was just making sure. I wouldn’t miss it.”
At the time, you thought he was lying, but unlike your doubts– Tom always showed up. There was never any awkwardness or fears of rejection when your friendship took an intimate turn.
That whole summer was being able to explore what you two liked, what you were comfortable with, and even surprising yourself a few times with what you tried. All of it was exciting and nice until university came up. You’d be leaving this little relationship and only wonder what would happen.
Even though you were parted from time to time for four or five years, you always made it back to one another. Sometimes he’d visit you at university, sometimes you would come back home for holiday, and other times were during breaks and meeting each other at whatever destination you two chose.
You two would wonder if your friends knew since it became more and more obvious there was something between you, but you didn’t want them involved. It was easier to stay oblivious and make them wonder, continuing to stay in this little bubble where you neither of you had to explain what “this” was. Only because it just made so much sense.
Tom threw your shirt to the side, admiring your body as you laid back down on the bed. He straddled you, kissing between your breasts and up your neck before reconnecting his lips against yours. As you ran your fingers through his curls, the soft texture carding between them, you lightly bit his bottom lip. You started moving your weight to the left, signaling him to roll over which he did. Now on his back, you giggled because you liked to be the one in control.
As your hips ground, very slow and steady, Tom lowly groaned and suddenly smacked your ass hard. The tingle made you gasp and then giggle into his neck, feeling your hot breath against his skin. You quickly grazed your lips down his toned chest, leaving a trail of light yet wet kisses down his abdomen. Your hand ran over his cock through his tight boxers and felt how hard he was, aching and waiting for you to dip your hand back into his band.
“I bet you’re just wanting your cock in my mouth. Huh?” You teased.
Tom, red in his cheeks, chuckled leaning his head back, “Don’t tease me like this.”
“It’s fun to see you squirm.” You grinned as you hooked your fingers around his band, pulling his boxers down.
His dick sprung up once you lowered his underwear, seeing how red his tip and the pre-cum running down his slit. As you shifted your body down the bed, you were perfectly between his legs where he could lean his head up and watch you play with his cock.
Your thumb, once again, ran over his tip and used his cum as lubricate. Tom uttered a low groan, cursing under his breath as he admired the way you took your time. Painful as it was, your mouth gaping open as you watched your hand run up and down his cock made him sweat.
“God, I can’t wait to take this all in my mouth… if you're lucky, maybe you can fill me up.” You whispered.
He loved dirty talk. Easily withering into an absolute mess over how seductive words left your pretty mouth. Some mornings when he was alone, his hand would slip into his shorts and palm himself, thinking about the way you spoke to him when you were fucking. Leaving him letting out light moans and panting between your memorized commands and begging.
As your mouth wrapped around his tip, your left hand pumped what wasn’t in your mouth while the other ran up his lower abdomen. Tom didn’t know what to grab, instead putting his hands behind his head and trying not to intervene with the pleasure you were giving to him. Your drool slide down his shaft, and he bit his tongue as he listened to you gag and gurgle with his cock in your mouth.
His hips barely bucked, already needy to cum down your throat. You slowly removed your lips from his dick and continued to pump his shaft to catch your breath. There was the taste of his sweet cum on your tongue, making you giggle when you sat back up. As much as you could keep teasing him, you knew there was enough times in the day to do as you pleased so this would be quick.
Tom quickly lifted up, his head tilted up at you as you took off your panties. You tossed them to the side, unknowingly falling on top of your t-shirt on the floor. You straddled Tom, one around wrapped around his neck and the other guiding his cock to your slit. You rubbed his wet tip a few times before slowly letting him enter your pussy and he let out a deep grunt.
“Fuck… so fucking warm and tight. Fucking Christ.” He whimpered.
It had been months without each other's touch so, this felt like bliss. Exploring each others bodies like it was a new journey even though you’d kissed and fucked wherever you could think.
You couldn’t help but hiss, stilling yourself as you bottomed out on his cock. You felt your walls tense around his hard, clenching as your nails grazed his muscular back. He kissed your cheek then your lips, making sure you were comfortable before moving your hips.
You nodded, “I’m okay, fuck. I’m okay.” You huffed, spreading your legs further to shift your position, “I love your fucking cock inside me.”
As he moved your hips, guiding them as you lifted yourself up, your two moans combined and bounced off the walls of his apartment. Tom’s teeth lightly sunk into your neck and your hands met each side of his head. Your bodies moved in a fluid motion, hearing the slam of your skins as Tom pulled you down harder and faster.
Your eyes rolled back, a defeated moan leaving your throat as you leaned your head up to stare at the ceiling. The pleasure prickled along your body, like a strike of electricity when he pounded each time. Your pussy was warm around his cock, feeling like he could burst at any second. He smacked your ass again, grunting over your small moan from the sudden slap.
Neither of you wanted to cum, but it was tempting. Tom left a soft kiss against your lips, still inside you and his cock painfully throbbing. You ran your hands over his shoulders, gently grinding your hips again and took a deep breath to hold back your orgasm. Sharing a tender kiss, Tom lowered his head and couldn’t take the waiting. With both your eyes closed, grazing each others lips, you brushed your noses against one another’s as time frozen around you.
“Fucking cum inside me. Please… Fuck, I can’t take it any longer.” You gasped.
Tom’s hands caressed your breasts, wrapping his lips around your left hard nipple. His tongue flicked against it causing a soft whimper to leave your lips and you lifted up on his cock. Your cum dripped down his shaft, already leaving a mess between your cores and making your clit unbearably throb.
“Get on your back.” Tom commanded.
Your head was spinning, but you laid down as he wanted and your sweaty back stuck to the sheets. Spreading your legs, still inside of you, he pressed his hands into your sides and you wanted to put your legs back down to curl around him.
“Fucking keep them spread.” He muttered, already sinking his cock back into your cunt, “You fucking cum when I say to cum.”
You gripped the sheets by your sides, arching your back and your toes curled at the pleasure coiling inside your stomach. Tom dug his fingers into your hips, deeper and deeper, both of you aching and straining from letting go until your legs began to tremble.
He nodded, “Fucking cum for me. Fuck!” Tom groaned as he rode out his high.
You jerked your hips a bit then stilling yourself while Tom slowly pulled out of your pussy. His cock was coated in your cum, watching his drip down your slit and onto the bed sheets. He slapped his tip a few times against your clit, teasing you before you leaned up and got on all fours to taste your cum along his dick. You smiled up at him, a twinkle in your eyes as you tasted your combined juices.
“Sweet, like always.” You giggled before kissing him again.
As you slipped off the bed, Tom gathered the bed sheets as you went to the bathroom to turn on the shower. He couldn’t help but smile to himself, watching you wait for the water to heat up and you pushed your hair out of your face.
The unlikely domestic that came after your constant hookups were always normal– well, it’s better compared to how awkward it used to feel when you weren’t even comfortable taking your shirts off in front of one another and keeping the lights off. You both figured that over time, it just felt okay to be this vulnerable and there was nothing embarrassing about it as if you were still young kids.
After Tom started the load of laundry, you were out of the shower with steam coming off your skin and the towel wrapped tightly around your body.
“I left it running for you.” You told him as you passed, going to his fridge to grab a water. You couldn’t help yourself looking over your shoulder, seeing he was still naked and the marks you left along his toned back.
“Oh, you’re too kind.” He chuckled, walking to the bathroom.
As he showered off, you started a pot of coffee and changed into a short, black sundress for the day. After Tom turned off the shower’s water then brushed his teeth as he walked around with his towel tight around his hips. You were laying on your stomach on his now-made bed with a map of New York spread out on the duvet.
“You know you can just look up places on your phone.” He muffled between brushing his teeth.
You hummed, “I want to have a clear path of what I want to actually see. Like, look. There’s an art museum next to a place where they make custom chewing gum.” You said in a cherry tone.
He chuckled, “You want your own personal chewing gum?”
“No… but, see how much more fun it is using an actual tour guide map.” You joked, using a pen to circle locations.
Tom walked to his dresser, shuffling through his clothes then going into his closet to find a top to wear for the hot morning. You hummed a random tune to yourself as your eyes searched around the map, glancing over at Tom’s backside once and a while. After slipping on fresh boxers and baggy jeans, he pulled a dark-navy t-shirt over his head. The graphic tee slowly covered the scratches and fresh scars left on his back by your sharp nails.
“I wanna go to the Empire State Building… unless it’s overrated and crowded like movies make it seem.” You trailed, rolling on your back.
The coffee pot was ready by the time Tom finished tying his shoes, so he headed back to the kitchen to pour two mugs of fresh brew.
“Actually, It’s not. I mean, there is a lot of people most of the time but, they get a little sick from how high it is. It’s a great place to take pictures too.” He grinned as he poured coffee into his favorite Star Wars mug with R2D2 on both sides.
“Ah, I can be like your model for the day.” You giggled, rolling on your back and sitting up on his bed. Tom sat next to you, carefully giving you the other Star Wars themed mug. You glanced at the side, “I remember when we got these.”
“Yeah, we took that awful bus ride to Reading.” He hissed, “Nevertheless, we found the coolest Star Wars collectable store.” He smiled as he reminisced on the memory.
You giggled, “Oh my God, and then that little pub we went to. Those Irish car bombs were so good.”
Although you thought back on the long night of drinking, Tom remembered how wild you were. It wasn’t like any other of the times you’d been together, but there was a fearlessness to your personality he’d never seen before and it made him fall a bit harder for you. The way you leaned your head out the cab window on the way to the motel for the night, smelling the fresh breeze run through the cab as you opened the window wider.
If Tom could back to any night, that one was special. He would get to fall for you all over again.
After the two of you finished getting dressed, you went downstairs and exited through the lobby of Tom’s apartment. As always, he had his camera around his neck and a black fanny pack across his chest that was filled with his essentials.
You sported a nice canvas tote on your side, bringing a blanket in case you two stopped at the park. The weather was perfect, the sidewalks weren’t too busy, and it was like the day was meant for you.
On the way to the Empire State Building, there was a small cafe that caught your eye. The neon sign blinked in bright blue and pink with treats displayed in the front window. You and Tom strolled inside, merging into the short line to the cash register and decided what you wanted to snack on. As you pointed to the menu, muttering the sweets that stuck out, you playfully nudged your head against Tom’s.
“I think I’m gonna get a chocolate croissant… and a strawberry iced donut.” You trailed, your words so close to his ear in the noisy cafe.
“Sounds good to me. As long as it tastes extra sweet.” He smirked.
You rolled your eyes, not adding to that comment. At least not in public.
After ordering, you waited a few minutes at the small bench by the door before Tom’s name was called out. He walked over, collected the five brown-bagged treats as well as his small cup of coffee. You were giddy, so antsy to eat because of the insanely sugary smell roaming in the room.
“Thank you.” You giggled, taking your chocolate croissant from him. Immediately, you took a bite into it and moaned a bit from the instant sweetness hitting your tongue. You took another bite even if it looked like you weren’t trying to pace yourself.
Before Tom could take a bite of his treat, he chuckled at you and the smidge of chocolate on your lip.
“You’re a real mess, you know that.” He jeered.
Expecting a witty comment, instead you casually wrapped your lips around his fingers, loving the taste the sweet chocolate. Tom watched in awe as his index finger stayed in your mouth, stroking your tongue between them before you pulled your lips away.
All he could think was, “Fucking tease.”
“So much sweeter than I thought.” You giggled before taking another bite of your croissant, “Definitely, that extra sweetness you were wanting.” You continued to poke fun at him.
♡ ♡ ♡
When arriving at the Empire State Building, you wanted to explore as much as you could. You were surprised at how there was a full history within the main first floor, with the dark granite lining the walls and floors and the high ceilings. Tourists, just like yourself, were browsing around, but you and Tom headed to the elevator to go a few floors up.
Once the elevator doors opened, there was a view of the city behind huge glass windows. With the sun up in the sky, the warm light shined on all the buildings that seemed so tall when you were on the sidewalks all those floors below you.
Unknowingly, Tom took photos of you from behind your view. You were completely mesmerized by the city, and weren’t sure how to take it in. It almost seemed like a place you could see yourself staying— maybe even with Tom. You could barely see people when you looked all the way down, but Tom continuously snapped photos before you turned around to his lens.
With a shy smile, you still beamed it at him and he chuckled. He looked through the lens at your beautiful face, the sun hitting perfectly behind you as if it was a paid background. You posed a few times, trying to be dramatic and you both shared giggles.
“How do you live here and not come to see this view all the time?” You asked him as the two of you stood in front of the glass windows.
He grinned, “I might more… it’s just more fun with you.”
What a dork.
You playfully pushed his shoulder, but he pulled at your wrist to bring you closer to him. Yes, there were moments you two appeared as a couple in the public, but it was never forced. It was easier in moments like this when it was just you two without your friends teasing you and asking questions. But, the question still came up as to how long would this be going on.
The two of you went back to the elevator, going to the top of the building where most people were taking pictures. Luckily, the wind was a low speed and the smell wasn’t completely awful.
Tom found the right lighting, adjusting the settings on his camera between capturing your moments. He kept smiling just as you were and seeing you cover your face when you couldn’t think of another post to do.
He never gave himself the credit for the art he could see, let alone you want to admit a picture of yourself is art, but he could already imagine these shots in black and white and hung up one of his own pieces. A piece he knew he was proud of.
“Am I looking okay?” You asked him, trying to see the photos.
“No, no, I don’t want you deleting them if you hate them.” He smiled as he pulled away the camera.
You pouted, “Fine, but I trust you.”
When you walked back over to the view of the city, Tom continued to smile at the photos he took and thought that he had never seen someone so naturally beautiful in a scene with so much other things going on. You were the focus out of a city of thousands of people.
After the Empire State visit, Tom took you to a few department stores to find some clothes. It was something on your list of things to-do, so you didn’t mind browsing around and able to ask Tom for his opinion on what you should buy for the summer weather.
Stumbling upon a thrift store, the selection was huge and gave you hope to find a few pieces. Once you grabbed a few items– a nice sweater, a cute dress, and a few skirts– the two of you made your way to the private dressing rooms toward the back of the store. There were only three rooms, and no where to sit outside of them so, you invited Tom inside (because it wasn’t like it was nothing he hadn’t seen).
You modeled for him, not minding the echoing of the camera clicking, his lens pointed at the mirror while you stared at your profile and how the clothes fit you.
Tom’s phone vibrated, making you take his camera and you pointed it at him for once during the day. He glanced at a text and you captured a photo of him looking perfectly down at his phone, loving the detail to his freckled nose bridge and small grin.
“Just got a text, my friend, Olson, invited me to a party tonight.” Tom trailed, “Want to go?” He asked, looking up at you with him sat down and you hovering over him with the camera still in your hands.
“Only if you make a funny face.”
Tom stuck his tongue out, his eyes a bit wide and you pressed the button.
“Perfect…” You giggled, admiring the photo and the light shade of brown in his eyes.
You sat next to him, running through the photos he had taken throughout the day and holding back your comments. It wasn’t that the pictures were bad, but you just cringed at your own image. Tom’s hand run up your leg, hiking the dress you were still trying on, but he slowly got on his knees in front of you.
He was now lowered, hiking the ends of the short dress toward you. You pointed the camera at the mirror where Tom’s back was blocking what was between your legs. Tom pushed his head further down and pressed and curled the tip of his tongue inside your slit.
Your fingers weaved through the top of his head as he continued, surprising him at how calm you were being so he tried to dig his tongue deeper. A giggle left your lips, your back arching against the wall and all your frustrations going into gripping his curls.
You hissed, biting your bottom lip to hold back your moans. There was some satisfaction into knowing how fearless he was to show you that you were each other's cravings.
♡ ♡ ♡
Standing in the full body mirror, you turned to the side to see the way this dress fit. It wasn’t the same dress from earlier, but you still bought that one to cherish the memory.
You didn’t want it to keep hiking up, but it was pretty cute when Tom kept staring at your legs while sat on his bed. You turned on your chunky heels, walking over to him and seeing his head tilt back the closer you got.
“How do I look?” You asked, placing your hands on his shoulders.
His hands ran up the back of your thighs, over your bum then rested on your lower back.
“Fucking amazing.” He chuckled. His hands moved down to squeeze your ass then run over your thighs again.
He leaned down, his head tilting to the side before leaving wet kisses along your inner thigh. You giggled at his neediness, “We don’t have time. We have to get a cab soon.” You pouted.
“I can be quick. You know that.” He smirked.
You rolled your eyes, “Don’t get cocky now.”
Tom chuckled against your skin, leaving a small love bite but eventually pulled your dress back down. He didn’t want to give in just yet, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t want to bend you over right there like he had in the dressing room just to watch your face contort as his cock thrusted into your tight walls.
Your pussy ached from his teasing, wishing he could taste his own theory of being able to make you cum in seconds. Although you felt uncomfortable between your legs, barely able to stand, you knew he would cave in at some point of the night. It was always him and you loved it.
As you went downstairs, the two of you were arm in arm walking outside to catch a cab. Once one of many yellow cars stopped, Tom let you slide in first then shut the door once he was in too. Within the few seconds of the ride, his head kept running up and down your knee and sneaking up the end of your dress. You could have swatted his hand away, pleading that you didn’t want him to have his hands on you– that wasn’t the case in this moment.
Tom tested his limits. He moved his hand up more and you welcomed that by spreading your legs. With the barrier and sliding window between you two and the driver gave you more privacy, Tom seemed to be more adventurous. That damn smirk painted on his lips as his two fingers ran over your panties, feeling the wet spot where you cunt is. He circled them around your clit, watching your hand grip the door’s arm rest.
You blinked a few times, but his eventually pulled them to the side. You leaned back a bit, keeping an eye on the rearview mirror where the cab driver was keeping his eyes on the road. Trying to keep a straight face, Tom curled his two fingers inside you and moved against the spongy part deep inside your cunt. As he picked up the pace, you could hear your juices pumping in and out of your pussy as a tightness coiled in your lower belly.
“God…” You whispered, saying it under your breath.
Tom still looked forward, appearing like the two of you weren’t speaking, but he felt your climax coming from how your pussy clenched against his fingers. Your eyes squeezed together, jaw clenched tight as you held back every feeling to let go, but Tom quickly pulled his hand away.
You gave him side-eye, pouty from him taking his hand back, but you bit your lip at him placing the two same fingers inside his mouth. He sucked on them quickly, as if he was eating the last of a dessert, and smiled to himself when he tasted your sweetness.
Flustered and heated, you inhaled a shaky deep breath. You pulled the bottom of your dress back down, suddenly twitching at the overwhelming aching between your legs. You wish you could rub your clit right now, knowing you would only need to roll your fingers over it a few times. Nevertheless, you decided to put your frustration into getting back at Tom. Enough for him to regret.
♡ ♡ ♡
At the party, the two of you entered through the open door. The setting was a loft, low lighting and people wearing those cheap neon bracelets and necklaces. Tom immediately spotted some of his friends by the self-serving bar and he took your hand to guide you through the crowd.
“Hey mates, this is Y/N.” Tom introduced you, barely making out his own friends faces from how dark it was.
“Nice you meet you.” You said a bit loud so they could hear you.
“You’re one of Tom’s childhood friends, right? Tell us all the secrets.” One of his friends, Olson, teased. His dark brown curls were long, a bit grown out like Tom used to have.
“No secrets, he’s unapologetically himself. A bit serious.” You joked, feeling comfortable with his group.
Tom smiled at how you could just put yourself out there and get along with his friends here. He was weary about how you’d get along only because it was like his two worlds colliding, but he eventually wanted you to meet them— hoping they wouldn’t tell you anything about what he’s said about your “relationship”.
Just as any party went on, you and Tom were two drinks in and dancing to the loud music with everyone else. After straying from the fun and teasing conversations, you both found yourselves searching for a room to be more private in. Tom’s hands were on your waist as you tried to open the few doors until both of you saw someone walk out of the bathroom.
Quickly slipping in, you and Tom didn’t take it your time slowly. He pressed your back against the cool door, his hand fiddling to lock the door. You held his face as he propped you up on the granite counter.
His hands gently pushed apart your thighs, hiking up the end of your dress for him to see your lace panties. Your back comfortably rested against the mirror, your one hand running through his wild curls and harshly tug on them and the other pressed against the wall.
Tom left slow and wet kisses on your right inner thigh while one hand ran up and down your left thigh. Your clit was starting to tighten, clenching around nothing just from Tom’s teasing and you wanted to beg.
As he pressed his lips against your clothed slit, he felt how wet you still were. Tom slid his tongue up to get a taste of your cum which made him smirk between your legs. He couldn’t help but pull them to the side, so harshly that he ripped the seam. Tom spit on your throbbing pussy lips, leaning in and sucking your swollen clit then flicking his tongue between your slit.
You panted, pursing your lips as you watch him, “God, yes! Eat my fucking pussy like that, Tommy.”
Your words encouraged him, the pace of his tongue going faster and making your eyes roll back. He took his time with your clit and sucked with his lips fully around it. He loved watching your face contort as he flicked your bud with his tongue and your hips jolted, trying to buck against his tongue.
Just when you thought you could cum right there, he quickly pushed his two fingers inside your tight cunt. You moaned, caressing your own breasts as he curled them, but his pace was much faster than in the cab. He pumped them incredibly fast, feeling your pussy clenching around them and listening to your whiny moans to keep going.
His fingers went knuckle deep in your slit, trying to maintain his fast pace before Tom pulled them out and quickly rubbed your clit with the same fingers.
You groaned, “I’m coming! I’m coming!” You surrendered.
A burst of your wetness squirted from your pussy, running down the counter and your inner thighs. Your legs violently shook as Tom kept rubbing before pushing his face back in to taste your pussy and clit once more. He had to keep your legs apart with his hands because of how much they were shaking, still orgasming from how hard you came and his tongue back to work.
You caught your breath, sweat against your forehead and your throat sore from your heavy breathing. Tom came back up to your head, pressing your tongues together and tasting your cum. It was a slow kiss compared to the roughness you both got into, but you knew it was just a short break.
“You want to cum again? Huh, fucking slut gonna fucking cum for me.” He trailed against his lips.
You nodded, “Yes, make me cum again, Tommy.”
He was motivated just from your little nickname.
Tom took a step back, unbuckling his belt and quickly pulling down his jeans and boxers. His dick sprung right up, hitting his lower abdomen and you bit your lip at how full and thick his cock was. He pumped his hand a few times, coating his length in pre-cum before gliding his tip against your incredibly wet slit.
Your toes curled just at his teasing, painfully glaring as he continued to stroke his tip against your clit. You weren’t going to beg just yet, but you were at least on the verge of doing it if this lasted any longer.
Tom smiled at the neediness written across your face, your eyebrows furrowed and lip between your teeth. He stepped back toward you and spread your legs without warning, gliding his cock once more against your pussy.
You leaned your head back as his cock thrusted inside your tired, worn-out pussy. His length was so big, stretching your slit out as he stilled his hips. Tom licked his lips, watching him bottom out inside you and letting out a low groan once his lower body pressed against yours. That’s how close you were in that moment, oddly feeling so intimate in that moment.
He wasn’t slow this time. Tom slammed his cock back inside you, letting you feel every inch of him enter your tight walls. You could only grip on your chest, running your thumbs over your nipples which doubled the pleasure that was coursing throughout your body.
“Ah, your cock is so… so big. Can barely fit in my pussy.” You whimpered, as if you could take the upper hand at this point. You were a complete mess.
“I’ll make you cum this time. Only if you scream my name when you do. Huh?” He lowly chuckled against your ear, squeezing his hands on your hips to bring them closer to him.
Tom watched his cock pull out of your pussy, groaning at his whole length coated in your thick cum. With just the tip inside your slit, your left hand reached down to stroke him while your right hand still pulled at your nipple. You felt how slick his cock was, not surprised how bad you wanted him.
“Please, I need your cock, baby.” You trailed. Your eyes gazed into his, looking bigger and more desperate, making Tom move his hands down under your thighs and lifting your legs higher.
Your back slouched more, basically staring up at him as he put your legs over each of his shoulders. Your pussy lips were plump and hot, a string of your own cum running down to your asshole, but Tom collected it on the tip of his cock then teased your slit once more. Stroking his dick back and forth, your ankles by his ears, just before he slid back into you at a much slower pace.
You took every inch in, even twitching once he bottomed out. His thrusts were very rough, pushing his cock as much as he could and hitting your g-spot each time. Tom picked up a rhythm once he felt his dick twitching inside you, anticipating to cum deep inside you. Your skins slapped together each thrust, quicker and quicker, more deep than you think he could possibly go.
“Tommy, Tommy, Ah! I’m gonna cum.” You moaned over the muffled music, “Fuck, I wanna cum so bad, Tommy.”
Beads of sweat trailed down Tom’s temples, his eyes going back and forth from watching your face contort from your pleasure and your pussy. He grunted toward his high, but he suddenly stopped in his thrusts.
It confused you, but he quickly pushed your legs down before he pulled you closer to him by your lower back. Your ass shifted on the sink counter, basically on the edge, before Tom shifted his cock back into your tight slit. The closeness made a tingle go up your spine, with your chest against his and sharing a kiss between each time he bucked his hips.
You moaned against his lips, barely able to move them when he picked up his fast pace. You gasped a few times, your head dropping as your pussy clenched around his cock then quickly throwing your head back.
Neither of you could produce words to explain the euphoria coursing through your bodies, only pants between you two as you stood still and held each other. You left a soft kiss on his cheek before pulling away, Tom immediately pressing his forehead against yours to savor the moment. Your hand ran down his shoulder, running down his sweaty body and lightly scratching your nails down his abdomen.
Oddly in that moment, you could say you loved him. Not the “I love you” that would casually come out at when he did something to make you laugh, like an “I love you” that was more than words. You gulped from that feeling so you refrained from them leaving your lips, instead pulling away from him.
The two of you hadn’t had an intense moment like that in years, almost wondering if this was as good as it gets. Both of you didn’t want to doubt that either, but it was a lot that you didn’t speak for the few seconds it took you to get dressed again.
As Tom pulled his shirt back down, he glared at you examining your neck in the mirror. Darker shaded marks already formed compared to your skin tone, gulping and hoping no one would say anything or think differently of you when you walk back out.
“Are you okay?...I didn’t hurt you or anything, right?” He asked, as if it was your first time again.
You smiled, glancing at him in the reflection before turning around, “No, no. Just rougher than usual, but I would have said if I didn’t like it.”
A shy chuckle left his smile, but he glanced back up at you, “You know I love you, right?”
What did he mean by that, you thought.
“I-I love you too…” You trailed, not even sure if you meant it the way he meant it.
You quickly walked away from him, and Tom’s confidence fell short in that instance. After opening the bathroom door, the next couple wanting their own privacy walked past Tom to go in. Tom, trailing right behind you,saw the party had only gotten bigger and his friends were still by the corner.
As you went toward the bar, Tom went back over to his friends and he wanted to flush away the embarrassment he was feeling in his face. He had only wondered if he did something wrong.
“Nice hair.” Olson commented.
Tom smiled, trying to run his hands over and through it.
“Mate, we were just talking about Paris and we don’t know if you’re in or not.” The other friend, Mark, brought up, his drink almost empty so he sipped the little bit left.
“Uh, not sure.”
“You need to make up your mind. Offer from the director guy still stands until next week. It’s a good paying gig for a few months, then you come back here and buy a less crapper place to bring your friend to.” Olson teased.
“I don’t really know if I can afford France right now. I have a lot going on.”
“Well, we think you should try. At least think about it and don’t shut it down. Besides, the girls already follow you on Instagram. They’ll be all over you if that’s the issue.” Mark joked.
“I don’t need a girl either…” Tom commented, then twisting his lips, “I think I’ll go. Paris wouldn’t be so bad, would it?” Tom, obviously flustered, trailed.
Unknowing to him, you were already behind him once the conversation got serious. You heard about France, you heart about models, you just heard the whole thing and Tom hadn’t even mentioned it. All you could do, without embarrassing him or yourself in front of his friends, is fake a smile.
So, this was it, you guessed.
♡ ♡ ♡
The walk home was silent. A bit too silent if you asked Tom. Maybe you were tired, or you were just getting homesick. One thing neither of you did, and what you desired the most, is to read each other’s minds, because in moments like this, it would be nothing but help.
Just as Tom was going to ask, after contemplating for a few minutes, about what was wrong, you finally just said—
“I didn’t know about Paris.”
Tom quickly turned his head to you, worried when you didn’t look back at him.
“Y/N, it’s undecided–”
“No, I heard you say that you were thinking about going…” You sighed, “You know I’m not mad about you going, but you… didn’t tell me?” You rhetorically spurted.
“I was going to, but we were having a nice time. I wanted you to have a good time. How was I supposed to just tell you I might up and move again when I want to be in one place.” Tom quickly retorted.
Both of you stopped walking, and you nodded, “You just tell me, Tom? I mean, I didn’t think that there was ever anything that we didn’ tell each other these days.”
Tom nodded, “It just didn’t cross my mind right now because we’re having fun. I’ve been looking forward to you coming for weeks now. I promise, we’ll talk about it later.” He pleaded, not wanting you to get the wrong idea.
“Later or never? I’m confused on what you want… what even are we? We’re acting like teenagers again and… How long can we keep up something like this. I tell you that ‘I love you’ and lately it’s getting so fucking hard to know what kind of love I feel for you. Like.. is it worth it to love you if what’s going on between us is temporary.”
Tears were lining Tom’s waterlines, “I think that too… I felt like I messed up things tonight and almost everyday.” He vented, “I love you too, and I don’t know what we are either, but I know I don’t want to let it go. Not right now or ever.”
“Then what do you want?” You desperately asked, the stress gnawing away on your insides.
Tom fell silent. It was like all the words in the world to describe his feelings had been erased from his mind. He was frustrated too, almost in disbelief that you didn’t think he was into you, but his silence was too much for you.
You gulped, “Let’s just go to bed.” You said before opening the lobby door.
Tom stood there for a few seconds, contemplating about what he had done (or even what hadn’t he done), but truthfully, he was exhausted. Tom wanted to assume it would be nothing in the morning, yet this felt like one of those fights you couldn’t come back from– he could only pray that night it was just a bad thought.
♡ ♡ ♡
Your eyes fluttered open to the dawn of the day. A low light peaked through before the bright sun was coming over the horizon, eerily feeling like it was the end of a dull rainy day. But, it wasn’t the predicted weather that made you sad but rather the thought of you and Tom losing your friendship.
He always told you beforehand when he was going somewhere, and now he didn’t even acknowledge the thought. You were in denial of the jealousy in your veins, coursing like a constant river that no dam could restrain.
Maybe he’s moving on, You thought. Words you didn’t want to say out loud.
It’s apart of the no relationship and sex spoken agreemen to not have feelings. But, this feeling was doing nothing than eating you up from the inside out, like something was prickling inside every body part.
A few seconds later, Tom was rolled over on the other side of the bed and staring at his front door across the room. He hated when you two fought which was rare, especially when it came to defining what you were. The only time there were any major arguments was during high school, when you were both juvenile and immature (at least you thought you had become more mature with time).
Complicated as it was, everything seemed to be fine until that news came up to you last night. What made him upset more was that he wanted to tell you at some time of you being here, but Tom also had his doubts that you would want to leave and move on. It was the feeling of not wanting to close a chapter when you know the end is coming to a book. There could have been a million ways of it ending, but this wasn’t one of the ideal ones.
“Y/N?” Tom asked in his groggy tone.
You refused to roll over, not wanting to give him any satisfaction. You wanted to be angry, but it was hard since you were never mad at him.
“Can we talk?” He asked again.
Caving to the possible consequences, you rolled over and saw his pretty face. A face you struggled to be mad at, but you almost lightened up at the sight of his bright brown eyes.
“Yes?” You replied.
“Last night… It was messy. I don’t want to be like this. I want things to be okay again.”
“You didn’t answer my question last night, so you made it pretty obvious how you feel about me, Tom. This whole thing is a fling and I feel in and over my head right now.” You truthfully told him.
Tom could have never pictured those words leaving your mouth, but obviously you had been feeling this way for a while which hurt him since you were up in his head about how he’s expressing his own doubts and feelings.
“So, then you didn’t think this was serious either? Like, this whole time I was stringing you around for sex?”
You sat up, “I’m not arguing with you right now, Tom. Frankly, I don’t even want to be with you right now.” You said out of spite.
“What? You give up like that? I’m trying to have a conversation–”
“No! You’re talking at me, and I’m confused and annoyed by all this. It’s like we don’t know each other anymore and it’s just sad.” You scoffed as you walked to your suitcase toward the couch, kneeling down and tossing your clothes in.
Tom sighed, “What are you doing?”
“I’m packing a few things. Sorry, I don’t want to be somewhere where I’m exactly feeling welcomed.”
“Why do you get the last say, huh? Where was all these emotions and talks any other time we talk?”
“Well it’s not like you were saying anything to me either.” You sneered back, “Maybe we… don’t know or understand each other like we used to.”
Tom stood in front of you, both of you with defensive positions and silence filling the room again.
“Yeah… Maybe we don’t anymore.” He replied.
And just like that, you left his apartment with no other notice as to where you’d head off to.
♡ ♡ ♡
It had been a week since you retreated from New York after the huge argument. After a grueling time at the airport, a mixture of crying and getting stuffed over snacks, you were eager to be on the plane.
At the same time, you hadn’t heard from Tom, and it took a toll on you more than you thought. Noticing the “Last seen” on your Instagram message to him, bothered by being the last person to text him in the messages– it was like he was suddenly a ghost.
You didn’t mope around that whole week either, trying to forget Tom once you piled your workload back on and stayed at your desk for hours to even think about him with a tired brain. Still, there was an emptiness you felt by not having to check your phone every other minute. TV shows and movies weren’t the same. Eating your favorite snacks didn’t taste the same. Even going on car rides and listening to music felt pointless. Everything was a bit gray and gloomy (like London weather).
Just as any other weekend went, you planned to watch a movie, regardless of how boring or corny it may be, and have a snack you picked up at the corner store. After getting your two favorite fluffy blankets from the closet, there was a few knocks on the front door. You thought it was the neighbor asking about their cat or a person trying to sell you something, but instead you were met with the face you least expected to see.
Tom turned with a small smile, “Hey…”
“H-Hi.” You nodded, thinking it was a dream.
“So, I know we haven’t spoken in a week, but I um- I didn’t like Paris.” He summarized.
You pressed your lips together, “Oh… sorry about that.”
“You know why I didn’t like it?” He asked, a bit jokingly.
You replied with another shy nod.
“Because I didn’t have someone who would make fun of the snooty French people there in a silly accent.” He chuckled, his hands in his pockets, “And… I didn’t have someone who wanted to go to those sites because they saw it in a book or a map and just thought about going there than just looking it up on their phone… I didn’t have you, Y/N.”
“Well, I think you’re being a bit dramatic.” You joked, “But, I did miss having some guy in my life that is always the life of the party and knows how to make me laugh without even saying anything.”
Tom hugged you tight, almost squeezing you too tight. He was more than happy to be with you again, just as you held him with your arms around his back and your head nuzzled by his head.
“I’m sorry I made you choose.” You sniffled.
“You didn’t… I had to make a choice and I want us to be… us. Together…” He trailed, pulling back to see your face. His thumb brushed over the tear hanging on your cheek bone, cupping your cheek before kissing you.
It was as if a new timer restarted on both your lives; one that wouldn’t need to stop.
Request: @anon - Hi I love your writing! Could i request with Prompt 11 "We're more than friends and you know it" with Tom Holland x reader, maybe where she is unsure about what she and Tom are, so she start flirting with another boy to get Tom off her mind
Prompt: “We’re more than just friends and you know it.”
Summary: You and Tom have been close friends for years and nothing more. But, one day he sees you flirting with someone else and jealously starts to bubble over
Warnings: Angst, Tom being a bit oblivious, fluff
Words: 2,536
A/n: My requests are closed but I’m still finishing up a few in my ask lmao and I had some inspiration and time today so here we are!! I hope y’all like it!! Lemme know what y’all think!!
masterlist
“Well, don’t you two look adorable.” Harrison mocks you and Tom as he takes a seat in one of the open lawn chairs.
You and Tom are sitting side by side in your own chairs while your legs are draped over his. There’s a small campfire burning in front of you while the cool summer air brushes across your skin. Tom’s hands are rested on your shins, his right thumb rubbing up and done slowly, subconsciously.
“What?” Tom chuckles, looking to you before looking across the fire to Harrison.
“Just look adorable, is all.” There’s a smirk dancing across Harrison’s face that makes you glare at him.
He’s taunting the both of you and you know it. Somewhere, deep down inside you, you’ve always had this thing for Tom. Always and it has always been more than obvious. Between the stolen glances, platonic cuddling, the bushing of your hand against his when you hand something to him. The banter that’s absolutely you flirting with him but playing it off as just the banter between friends when it’s brought up. Harrison knows you like him, and this is a taunt.
“We’re just friends.” Tom rolls his eyes before reaching to the ground beside him and picking up an unopened package of marshmallows. “Want one?” He offers and you nod.
He always says you’re just friends and maybe there’s a part of you that’s just a little tired of it because he does all the same things you do. He even makes the move first. He’s always the one that asks if you wanna cuddle with him for movie nights. He’s the one that starts the banter. He’s the one who pulled your legs on top of his tonight. It’s almost always him that initiates it and he talks about how no other person has been good for you so far. If he doesn’t like you more than a friend -- which is fine -- maybe he should step back. But you say nothing.
You like the way his fingers feel against your legs and you like how his body keeps you warm even on the hottest of summer nights. There’s something about the way he looks at you that just makes you never want to say anything because what if he stops looking at you with those big brown eyes that make all other shades of brown boring? You like that you’re the person he calls when something good happens and when he just needs someone to talk to. He’s your best friend and you’re his. But that doesn’t make it easy sometimes.
“Yeah,” You clear your throat. “We’re friends.” Your eyes are locked with Harrison as if to be silently warning him to shut the hell up.
Tom flashes you an oblivious smile with your words while he leans over your legs, marshmallow on a metal poker stick, and starts roasting the marshmallow for you. It hurts a little but what more can you expect? You’ve never actually told him, or really anyone, how you feel about him. And you are just friends. You can’t very well expect him to deny being friends and expect something more. But that doesn’t erase any bit of the pain in your chest.
The rest of the night goes by with the normal activities of jokes with everyone, telling stories of past memories, and your stolen glances with Tom. It’s a normal night, just like any other. Everyone slowly makes their way inside, one by one as they get tired. You and Tom always go together and end up on the couch together. When you wake up, it’s always Tom making breakfast and it’s always your favorite. He always remembers your favorite things. It’s a gesture you’ve always loved and maybe it’s one of the countless reasons your heart beats for the boy with curly hair and pretty eyes. But there’s something pulling in the pit of your stomach this time. Because maybe you’re growing a bit tired of it.
Are you supposed to yearn for some boy, your best friend, with no hope of something more coming from it for the rest of your life? That would just be lonely. You want, at some point, to settle down with someone you’re in love with and maybe waiting for Tom isn’t going to cut it. It’s not really that you’ve done it on purpose. There have been others but nothing ever felt quite right with them. Didn’t feel like it always does with Tom. And maybe that’s because you’re so hung up on him that you have to let him go.
It’s the next day and the group of you decided to go out for the night to one of your favorite bars, something the group of you do every so often. The night is going on as normal which includes plenty of flirting between you and Tom but nothing ever coming from it. There are a few comments here and there from Harrison and Harry but you ignore them. Instead, you spot a cute boy standing at the bar who’s been eyeing you all night and decide to say ‘fuck it’. You’re not going to wait for Tom forever to figure it out and you excuse yourself to go have a chat with him.
“Where’re ya goin’, darlin’?” Tom asks, eyes wide and doe-eyed, filled of innocence.
“To the bar.” Your answer is short but you keep a sweet smile. You’re definitely trying to making him jealous but you don’t want to make it seem like that.
“I’ll go with you--”
“No, no.” You shake your head. “You stay.” You give him a cheeky smile before turning on your heels and making your way to the bar.
Tom’s brows are furrowed as he watches you strut right over the guy that’s had his eye on you all night and Tom’s stomach just twists into knots. He thought it was a bit weird you didn’t want him to go with you or that you didn’t ask him to get you a drink and now he gets it. You wanted to talk to another guy. And he’s watching you give him the same giddy smile you always give him and the shade of green that screams envy curls around his bones.
“You okay, mate?” There’s a chuckle from the back of Harrison’s throat as he takes a drink from his glass, knowing exactly what’s going on.
“Yeah, yeah.” Tom snaps his neck in front of him, trying to conceal his own jealously. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Seem a bit…what’s the word, Haz?” Harry laughs, nudging Harrison with his shoulder. “Jealous?”
“I’m not jealous!” Tom’s nose scrunches but he’s such a bad liar.
“Yeah, alright.” Harrison’s eyes roll with the raise of his brows. “Why d’ya keep glancing over there then?” Harrison’s eyes dart between the bar and Tom.
“And why do you look like you’re about to jump out of your seat?” Harry comments.
“Because!” Tom defends. “I thought there…” Tom trails off and he’s coming to realize that he’s always thought there was more to the so-called friendly banter.
Truthfully, right now, he can’t figure out why he never asked how you felt. Maybe it’s because he just always assumed you felt the same way. When you’d bring out going out with other people, you never really seemed serious about it. You’d say some flaw that they had and Tom would agree with you and point one out, too because he was clearly very oblivious and thought you were joking. But now, you’re over there with your hand on this random guy’s shoulder and he knows you weren’t joking. You haven’t brought up going on a date with someone else is so long and you two have grown so close that Tom kind of thought there was something more going on here.
“Hello?” Harry waves a hand in front of Tom’s face, breaking his stare from you and the random guy. “You were saying?” Harry asks when Tom’s attention is brought back to the table.
“I…” Tom stutters before swallowing his pride. “Well, I’ve thought there was something there!”
“You always say you’re friends?” Harrison questions, his eyes narrowed, a little annoyed at his ability to be jealous after preaching the just friends line for so long.
“Kind of just thought it wasn’t this….official thing!” Tom tries to defend himself.
“Right…” Harrison and Harry say at the same time, not fully believing what Tom is saying.
It’s true, as absurd as it sounds. The two of you spend almost every free moment with each other. You stay over with each other all the time and the countless amount of times Tom’s asked you to sleep with him in the most innocent sense of the phrase. There have been these tiny moments where you get a little too close getting up or sitting down or bumping into him where he almost thought you did it on purpose -- you did -- and he could have kissed you but he never did because it wasn’t ever something that was said and he’d never want to overstep your boundaries. It’s the moments for him where he brings you lunch on your lunch break or you bring him dinner after work, he’s there for you and you’re there for him. Yes, friends do that, but it just always felt like there was something more and he is so sure you felt the same way that now he’s getting up.
“What’re you doing?” Harrison’s voice is flat, almost dreading what’s going to come out of his mouth.
“Going over there.” Tom remarks as if Harrison should have known that.
“Is that such a good idea?” Harry asks.
“Yes?”
“Maybe you should just--”
“I’ll be back.” Tom cuts Harrison off before walking away.
“Well, this might as least be entertaining.” Harry states before turning to face where Tom is walking.
“Or humiliating for both of them.” Harrison groans but keeps watching as if waiting for the train wreck that is sure to ensue.
You catch a glimpse of Tom from the corner of your eye and your plan worked. To make him jealous because surely that’s the only reason he’s coming over here. Which, to be honest, you’re grateful for because this guy you are talking to is almost completely unbearable. He’s talking to you as if you’re a box of rocks which is only making you want to simultaneously bang your head against the bar and throw all of the drinks on him.
“Can I talk to you?” Tom asks but he keeps his voice level, not angry just flat.
“I’ll be back.” You give the douchey frat guy a sweet smile just to dig under Tom’s skin a little more.
“I’ll be waiting.” He states and you almost visibility cringe while Tom actually does give him the ‘what the fuck’ disgusted look before taking your hand in his.
You follow right behind Tom, his hand still holding yours, not forcibly or too hard, just enough to keep you behind him. On the way to the door, he spots Harrison and Harry, clearly on the edge of their seat and looking awfully deflated by the time the two of you get to the exit. Clearly, they wanted to witness how this was going to go down but Tom won’t give them the satisfaction.
“What’s up?” You ask, innocence in your eyes and your voice as you step outside.
“What’re you goin’ in there?” Tom asks, his voice a little harsher now.
“What do you mean?” You ask, the innocence falls a little in your voice, seeing Tom is now actually upset.
“Flirting with that guy.” Tom remarks, gesturing a hand toward the door.
“So?” You cross your arms. “What’s it matter?”
“Because, y/n.” Tom’s eyes widen and his posture is polar opposite to what you’re used to. He’s normally so confident but now he’s annoyed and seems a bit….hurt? Jealous isn’t the right word here because you can tell by the lack of light and fire in his eyes, it’s not jealously. Just hurt.
“Because isn’t exactly an answer, Tom.” You push, wanting him to give you an actual answer. You think you know where this is going because why else wouldn’t he want you to flirt with someone? Some random person? It’s a little hard to believe given how he’s pushed the friends thing but you’re not backing out of this now.
“Why do you think?” Tom challenges. “You think I just cuddle with anyone? I make sure I’m up a full hour before you so I could make your breakfast? A breakfast I practiced when you weren’t around to make sure I’d have it right?” Tom asks and you never knew he had to practice to make a breakfast for you. “I always make sure you get inside okay and text you every morning and night on the few days we aren’t actually together. Why do you think I spend all of my free time with you?”
Your face softens with his words but there’s still a bit of confusion left here. “You say we’re just friends.” If all of that is true, why wouldn’t he just say something? All of this could have been avoided had he just said something.
“We’re more than just friends and you know it.” His voice is stern as he takes a step towards you and that’s what you’ve been wanting to hear this whole time.
So, you step into him.
Your hands come to his face, cupping either side of his face while you bring his lips to yours. Tom’s brows furrow and his body stiffens but only for a second before he relaxes against your touch. His hands come up to the small of your back, pulling you completely up against him.
You pull away first. “Why didn’t you just say something?” There’s a soft and subtle smile starting to dance across your face.
He shakes his head. “Thought it was a bit obvious.”
“The just friends thing, Tom?” Your eyes narrow but the smile is evident now.
“Didn’t think you’d want a label, you never said anything.” Tom explains and his cheeks turn red at the idea that he could have said something all this time and he could have you be his.
“Well, let’s make it official this time.” You press a kiss to the tip of his nose and his hands tighten around you.
“Will you go on an official date with me?” Tom chuckles.
“Well, duh.” You give him a laugh before Tom slams his mouth against yours, you laughing against him. You pull away once more, earning a small whimper and a pouty face from Tom. “We should probably get back in there before Harrison and Harry think we’ve killed each other.”
Tom lets out a soft laugh, his eyes darting down and back up to you. “That mean we can pick this up later?” He asks with the wiggle of his brows.
“Definitely.”
Tom presses a quick kiss to your lips before sliding his hand down to yours. “Alright, darlin’, let’s go then.” He nods his head towards the door, his fingers interlocked with yours and this time, it’s more than just friends.
summary: tom is your best friend's brother and you have nooooo idea how you got here.
↳ best friends brother au
genre: implied smut, fluff, angst if you squint
word count: 1.7k+
song inspiration: lovefool by the cardigans
You had no idea how you got here.
Actually, that was a lie. You had a really good idea of how you got here. In fact, a few months ago you planned to be right here, on your best friend's couch, your lips intertwined with his brother’s. You knew that if he had found you in this position, with his brother's knee planted firmly in between your thighs, that both you and Tom would be dead. You should stop, you thought to yourself. You knew this could hurt Harry but yet here you were still allowing his brother to practically deflower you with his kneecap.
You should stop, your mind rang again as Tom’s hands moved from your ribcage to your waist. Whatever air he was breathing out was now your own, the space between you two practically nonexistent. He smelled of lemon and sandalwood and tasted like spearmint, but when he bit down on your lip all you tasted was the sour taste of your own blood. He wasn’t as gentle as you thought he would be but that didn’t stop you any less.
You should stop, your conscience reminded you as he started to make his way down your neck with only his mouth. He was panting and nipping at your skin as if he was starving and you were the only one around, every little noise you made making him smirk against your skin as if he knew what he was doing to you. He was pressing you into the cushions below and you were convinced that the minute you got up the shape of you and him would remain there for years to come.
You should sto-, your mind tried to tell you but was cut short by him sucking on the sensitive skin behind your ear.
Fuck it.
It had been a week since you hooked up with Tom and despite your best efforts you couldn’t help but feel guilty about it. Harry was your best friend, the person you told everything to, and every moment you spent around him was another moment you felt like you were lying to him. He wouldn’t mind, you tried convincing yourself, but even your own mind laughed at the thought. Your mind flashed to a time where he was punching the shit out of a guy ten times his size because he thought he grabbed you too hard.
It wasn’t like he was in love with you. He was in a happy and healthy relationship with your other friend Angi and he almost always referred to you as his little sister, even though you were older than him. He found you at a particularly rough time in your life and you understood that him meeting you under that circumstance forced him to play a protective role in your life.
On top of that his relationship with his brother wasn’t the best. They had an on-again off-again relationship, being each other's best friends one minute, and tearing each other to shreds the next. You couldn’t begin to understand it, but it wasn’t your place in the first place. So when he needed to vent, you were there. And when he needed to ditch you to hang out with Tom, you understood.
So here you sat in this shitty dive bar across from Angi, giggling with her about various stuff, the liquor now getting to both of your heads. It was nice being out with her getting tipsy off of two dollar margaritas and getting to catch up on the boring stuff that happened to you during the week when you weren’t able to talk. It was also serving as a distraction, your mind not wanting to discuss what you were keeping from Harry and what you did with hi- fuck, was that Tom?
“What is Tom doing here?” You slumped in the booth, taking a large swig from your straw and draining the cup.
“Oh, I invited Harry and I guess they’re friends again because he asked if he could bring him along.” Angi replied matter of factly as you sat there with your eyes trained on him. You watched as he maneuvered his way through people, smiling and waving at the bartender before his eyes locked on you. Even though the expression on your face was now leaning toward fear as he moved closer, he had the cockiest smirk on his face as he approached you.
“Hey Angi,” He smiled as he slid into the seat next to you and you watched as Harry sat next to Angi and pressed a gentle kiss on her cheek. You smiled at the interaction but that smile quickly fell as Tom turned to face you in his seat. His face was just a few inches from yours and he allowed his knee to knock against yours.
“Y/n.” He stated simply, smiling at you like his brother wasn’t right there across the table from you. You didn’t even realize how tightly your hand was gripping the wooden seat of the booth until he brushed his fingers along your knuckles and you instantly relaxed.
You glanced over at Harry whose full attention was on his girlfriend which allowed you to take a breath of relief.
“Hi, Tom.” You whispered back, allowing a smile to grace your face. With that grin the tension in the room dissipated and you allowed yourself to relax. You were just talking to your best friend's brother, nothing weird about that.
“I missed you,” he whispered, looking down to where his hand was still lightly placed upon yours. He moved his hand down, allowing his pinky to interlock with yours. “Have you been getting my texts?”
Yes, you thought, but you didn’t want to let him know you were actively ignoring him because you felt shitty for allowing him to fuck you.
“I’ve just been too busy to reply this week.” You lied through your teeth, hoping he wouldn’t notice your sharp intake of breath. But he just hummed in response, and got up to get a drink from the bar.
The night when smoother than you thought it would, the lights getting more blurry with each drink you took. It was like everything everyone said was getting increasingly more funny as the night went on and your body grew warmer. You would occasionally laugh so hard that you had to lean your head on Tom’s shoulder. Well, you didn’t have to, but you really really wanted to. And Tom would welcome your warmth by leaning his head on top of yours, and from what you could tell, Harry didn’t mind.
But as time went on, you only got more drunk which meant you grew more tired and needed to get home to the warmth of your own bed.
“I need to leave.” You managed to slur out randomly as you tried stepping over Tom in the booth, only managing to trip and nearly fall flat on your face if it wasn’t for Tom’s arm firmly pulling you back up.
“Woah, there. You’re not going to go home by yourself, are you?” He questioned glancing over at Harry and Angi, who were a lot more sober and staring at you with wide eyes.
“Mate, why don’t you take an Uber home with her?” he suggested, glancing in between you and his brother. “Me and Angi want to stay, plus I have to take her home later.”
Tom gave him a look that asked him ‘are you sure?’, but all he did was nod back in response, giving him a tight lipped smile. With that confirmation Tom moved out of his seat and pulled out his wallet to place a few twenties on the table. “Nice seeing you Angi.” He smiled as he turned to walk you out to where your Uber was already waiting.
As you both piled into the backseat he laughed as your head smashed into the window. He nudged you with his arm as he watched you carefully, waiting for your eyes to open in acknowledgment. You could only manage to open one eye to look at him, but when you did you were filled with warmth. He was looking at you like you held the world in your head and you tried to remember the last time someone looked at you like that. You don’t think anyone ever has.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” you slurred out, your voice slightly muffled since your face was smashed up on the glass.
“Like what?” he questioned cluelessly.
“Like I’m the only person in the world.” You stated, now mustering up the courage to sit up straight and stare right back at him.
“You are.” he said much quieter, his hand moving to hold yours for what felt like the millionth time tonight. “To me at least.”
You felt flustered, not only were you way past drunk, but here was the person you had been pining after for years telling you that you were the only person that existed to. You understood the implications of that. There was a pleasant isolation that came with liking someone. You woke up thinking about them, and when you closed your eyes they followed you into your dreams. They appeared in your favorite movies, your favorite songs, and even on the pages of your favorite book. You knew that feeling because for so long that is what you felt about him. He was the end all and be all of the human race and your heart grew ten sizes when he walked in a room. That’s what you felt like at least.
“I liked being with you,” you started, not sure what you were trying to convey “not just sexually, but like, romantically.” You looked down where he was squeezing at your hand, a soft laugh coming from his lips that seemed to mix with the sound of the car engine.
“I like being with you too.” He whispered back, now scared he was sounding like a schoolgirl. “So why have you been ignoring me?” he asked firmly. As you opened your mouth to speak he began again. “The real reason.”
You gave him a half smile before pulling your hand from his. “Because of Harry.”
He looked puzzled for a minute before the realization hit him. “But Harry knows.”
Hi dear, hope you're having a great day/night (whatever time zone you're in). How would you feel about something angsty buy ending in fluff with Harry Holland and fem reader? Maybe something like reader mishearing Harry saying she's clingy and needy and distancing herself from him? And then fluff at the end? Thank you ❤️
Listen carefully, until the end, this time
word count: 1.4K
pairing; harry holland x reader
waring: angst, coarse language, low mental health
a/n: am i really disturbed because i really like to write this! Harry, my love, my munchkin, poor baby. This isn't proofread, so i'm sorry if this contains mistakes. In addition, I would really like to draw attention to: if anyone has mental health issues, or you feel depressed or anything, feel free to talk to someone about it or check out the apps that theBrotherstrust supports. Harry and Tom talk much better about it than I do, but I really suggest you take a look at the apps.
Misunderstanding
/ˌmɪsʌndəˈstandɪŋ/
noun
a failure to understand something correctly.
synonyms: misinterpretation, misapprehension
A simple word that brought you to the most distressing feeling of rejection you have ever felt. Curled up against the wall of your room, lying on the bed, with your head on your knees, you were sobbing while trying the worst possible scenarios in this situation.
Your work has taken a lot of energy these days, so you were looking for comfort anywhere you could find it. You felt that your mental health was dropping drastically and you clung to the few people who could give you the attention you deserved. Or that you thought you deserved. Yet it seemed that your boyfriend was establishing a distance between you that was gnawing at your insides. His face was cold, his thoughts often vague when you spoke to him. You felt the annoyance and gradually, a ditch opened.
Harry was, however, the most thoughtful kind of boyfriend, sending you flowers for your birthday, in anticipation of the party he would organize for you. Inviting you to the restaurant simply for the pleasure of going out... a simple walk would put balm in your heart both. But this was different.
The opportunity had presented itself for your circle of friends to meet for dinner at Harrison and his girlfriend’s. And you had to admit that, despite your mental health inflicting you a social anguish, you were relieved to be able for a moment, to enjoy an evening in all normality.
Dating Harry Holland involved dating a number of people whose popularity was overwhelming. He himself drew a lot of eyes. Dating Harry Holland meant accepting that your life would be scrutinized in every detail and pinned on the shelf of the web. Thus, photos of you, whose existence you had totally forgotten, were found scattered on the internet, aggreminted by a multitude of comments ranging from simple: "who is she ?!?" to "look at me this bitch, she doesn’t deserve it". Harry Holland was put on a pedestal for many individuals, mainly female, and who had a particular look at your boyfriend’s brother: Tom.
That’s why you decided to distance yourself from social media, like Tom did and Harry did. It was your boyfriend who had strongly advised you after having many times comforted you following untimely attacks by the Holland fan community. Your friends had at first believed that he was meticulously distancing you from them but you had argued so that they would learn the real reason: people could be obnoxious on the internet, masked by the smoke screen that was anonymity.
So it was obvious that a touch of normalcy would do you great good. Meeting your loved ones and exchanging platitudes with them would raise your spirits where your Harry was unable to do so now.
But you didn’t think that your need for attention would be as painful for your boyfriend. And as you were getting ready to bring him a new beer, while he was talking on the patio with Tom, you overheard a conversation that tore your heart out.
"You don’t understand, Tom. No matter what I do, she’s sticky and boring. I don’t know what to do."
There was a little pause during which you held your breath.
"Try to distance yourself from all this, Baz. It can’t be that bad."
"That’s what I’m already doing, Tom. You don’t understand, I want to throw it all away. It breaks my balls and I’m getting sick of it."
You didn’t wait a second longer to swallow your tears. You knew that Harry’s colorful vocabulary had always been loaded, he generally did not mince words. But hearing them in a conversation where you were the subject was the most heart-wrenching thing you’ve ever experienced. You shook Tuwaine in the way of your running, he stopped you the minute he heard your voice crack in your painful excuse to leave, sniffing shamefully.
"Hey.. Hey, what’s going on." he asked, worried. That man was a real sweetheart
"I.. I have to go, I’m not feeling very well."
"You want me to go get Harry.. I think he -.."
"No, no, please, Tuwaine. I’m just gonna go. I don’t really feel right now. I’m just gonna go home. Nice to see you."
Without delay, you grabbed your bag with haste and your coat before slamming the door, the sound causing the start of several guests.
And so you found yourself alone, pouring your anguish into the darkness of your room; shared with your boyfriend, the silence confronting your sobs and inverted. You never thought Harry could have such a picture of you. You never thought your need for attention was so exhausting to your boyfriend. But you were there, dwelling on his words indefinitely in your mind. Torturing yourself with the possibility of an inevitable break up.
Steps filled the appearance, agonizing, dying. They seemed to be languishing slowly, as if Harry was enjoying being able to drag your breakup. The squeaking of the door sounded like the doom of your relationship: it was over and you knew it.
"babe? omg what are you doing here. Is everything alright?"
Your sobs redoubled as you drew the rage of your messy feelings. You raised your eyes to the mass of curly auburn.With a strength that you were not sure you could draw from yourself, your body overwhelmed by sadness, you stood up, your eyes still overflowing with tears.
"You could have just told me, Harry. We’re adults."
"Tell you what? Y/N, what are you talking about?"
With a raw gesture you swept your tears from your face filled with sadness.
"I really thought that..."
"You thought what?" he pressed you
"That you loved me. I didn’t think I was such a burden. I thought you could understand, you who advocate good mental health."
Harry stretched out for a moment, stung in your speech. He was lost but even more so since you accused him of not understanding you. Even more so when you confide in him that you felt, or rather that he made you feel, like a burden to him.
"What are you talking about?"
"From your conversation with Tom" you almost screamed, your voice broken by your sobs. "I’m so boring and sticky, you want to blow it all away. I’m the girlfriend so disturbing I’m obviously busting your balls." You confessed, using his own words.
Your boyfriend’s face bleached, struck by the realization before the color of his chocolate eyes, darkened by your argument, warmed up and lit up a little more. He approached you gently, placing a hand on one of your arms in a comforting way as you stood on guard.
"My love, baby... I was talking about the character of Malicia...in my script with Tom"
You fell skinny, but fearful according to your - perhaps- former boyfriend. You knew that Harry and his brother continued to work on several scenarios, despite Tom’s busy schedule with his many film projects. You had been so caught up in your own problems that you didn’t realize your boyfriend was having trouble with his plans. You didn’t even seem to know that he had resumed writing.
"Your.. script?"
"Yes.. My female character is not endearing enough and I feel like she’s boring and terribly energy-consuming. I don’t know how I modified it to make it better, which is why I told Tom. I feel like it’s a reflection of my mental health right now. My mental health, not yours, baby. You thought I was...talking about you?" He shriveled but was really concerned about your sadness.
"Sure. You seemed so distant lately. And I tried in vain to spend time with you."
A slight smile came over his face before his arms surrounded you and hugged you. His lips came to kiss your forehead and Harry looked for your gaze, placing a finger under your chin so that your eyes would meet his.
"Listen carefully, until the end, this time." He smiled slightly, maliciously but profoundly tender. "I love you. I love you more than anything and you are absolutely not a burden to me. You know that I care about you and that when you are in trouble, you can tell me. I’ll be there. And I’m sorry if my behavior led you to think I didn’t care about you anymore. I love you"
Your sobs redoubled, a sudden relief from the anguish you had felt in the last few days, the last few hours. Your arms held Harry tighter against you as he sprinkled your hair with comforting kisses. You were releasing the pressure, relieved and happy to have such a perfect boyfriend.
"I love you," he said again and you couldn’t help but whisper "me too" very emotionally.
an: peter being obsessed with your nightly phone calls :) based off of late night talking by harry styles, sorry for the lack of updates! school has been biting my ass :(
pairing: mcu!peter parker x fem!reader
Something felt off and you couldn't quite pin it down. You were stressed and wanted nothing more than to be in your bed and on the phone with Peter.
You grabbed your phone and typed in Peter's number; the phone rang and rang and rang. You sighed at his voicemail greeting, "Call me when you get a chance, miss you."
Walking over to the bathroom, your phone rang immediately; you scurried across your room and slid on the screen upon seeing Peter's contact picture.
"Thought you forgot about me." You said, "Could never, I'd miss you too much." He winked and smiled, "Smooth, Parker." You laughed.
You laid your phone against the mirror and started your nightly routine, "How was school?" Peter asked; almost as if he wasn't next to you every single second of the day, "Hmm, It was okay. I've got to finish my portion of the project and I'll be free for the weekend, how was patrolling?"
Peter sighed, "Uneventful. No ones out breaking the law." He pouted, "Although, I'm glad to be here and on the phone with you." He teased, "You always make these long nights better."
“Do I now?” You grabbed your phone, “Glad I could be of assistance, Parker.”You smiled, “So when do I get to join you on one of these wild patrol nights? I think I’d be a killer sidekick” Peter laughed, “Never.”
You scoffed, “I think I would be great company.” Peter groaned, “Yeah but then who would I have all these late night talks with?” He asked, “You’d be too tired and I quite like our talks after patrolling.”
“And I’d get all sweaty.” Your face churned in disgust, “Never mind, take me off the roster.” You giggled, “You were never on.”
You smiled at Peter taking in all his features, “Why are you admiring me so much?” He asked, “What? I can’t admire and love on my boyfriend for just a few seconds?” You retaliated in defense, “I guess but our calls would just be pure silence because I’d also be too busy admiring you.”
“I love you.” You whispered getting into bed, “I love you more.” He smiled, “More than Star Wars?” You giggled; reaching over to your nightstand light.
He laughed, “More than Star Wars, Good night sweet angel.” He said blowing a kiss into the camera, “Good night Peter.”
