Flirt!tom Holland - Tumblr Posts
laundry day
a/n: this took me like 2-3 hours to write - oops - i came up with this idea when i was drawing in my sketchbook, hopefully it’s good because it’s already 4 am lol
pairing: college!flirt!tom holland x nerdy!reader
warnings: foul language, kind of sexual not really, tom being a dick and a flirt, y/n has a shitty day, rip harry is such good friend
masterlist
pt.1 | pt.2
After a long day, you headed back to your dorm, taking a bath a soon as you got back. You had planned on going to the library to do some late night studying, or just reading, after your bath. Unfortunately, it was laundry day and you only had a white, cropped camisole and a short skirt, that was too short to be worn anywhere, left in your closet. You groaned having no other choice than to take those.
The day had been terrible for you. You had been assigned stacks on stacks of papers that were either due by the end of the week or 3 weeks, maximum. Then, when you were rushing to get your lunch, some ass cut in front of you and took at least 30 minutes to order, resulting in you not having any lunch and rushing to your class. After that class, you had 15 minutes to get to your next lecture, so you decided to get yourself a coffee. Thankfully, you were able to order this time with no interruption, but when you were walking to the lecture hall, a curly brunette “accidentally,” and harshly, bumped your shoulder, making you drop the coffee in your hand. You cried out, feeling your anger succumb your every emotion.
“Dude,” you exclaimed.
You were never the kind to fight back, but today had already been so shitty for you that you’d snapped.
The brunette grinned, “Sorry ‘bout that.”
“My ass,” you rolled your eyes, clenching your fists at your side, “look, buddy, today has already been a very shitty day for me, so if you wouldn’t mind, at least sound sincere when you apologize for fucking spilling my only source of energy.”
“Sheesh, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning,” he laughed, not taking a single word you had said seriously.
“You know what? Just fuck off,” you stomped away, remembering that you still had to get to your next lecture.
He snickered behind you as you walked away, clearly finding amusement in your indignation.
That brings you to where you are now: heading to library in a skimpy outfit with a strap of your book bag clinging onto your right shoulder. By now it was 8 P.M. and you still hadn’t gotten any food to eat. Although your stomach was growling louder than a predatory animal sensing danger, you were determined to get to the only place you could seek peace: the library.
As you walked in, Harry, one of your close friends was eyeing you weirdly. He had volunteered to work at the library, seeing he could do his homework and study there, as well as get in a few aesthetic pictures.
“What are you wearing?” His eyebrows furrowed, scanning your outfit.
“Don’t judge, it’s laundry day and today fucking sucked,” you groaned loudly, knowing that no one would be at the library at such a late time of day.
Your stomach growled, “You got a lion in your shirt, or shall I say piece of fabric?”
“I haven’t eaten lunch or dinner at all today,” you slouched, dropping your bag to the floor, “got anything I could eat?”
“Of course, I got to have a snack or twenty if I’m going to be working till 10 P.M,” he handed you two large energy bars, “you’re gonna need it.”
“Thanks, you’re the best,” you pulled a chair over to the circulation desk, where Harry was seated.
“I know,” he smirked.
You rolled your eyes before grabbing you book bag, pulling out Pride and Prejudice, one of your favorites. You opened the book to the page you left off on and began reading. Harry had gone back to studying and taking pictures, mostly of you.
“Harry,” a voice boomed as it entered.
You had only gotten 45 minutes to read in peace. You mentally and probably physically banged your head with the book.
“Are you ready to go?” The voice continued.
As you listened closely, you realized you’d heard to voice before. You just couldn’t put your finger on who it was.
“I still have 1 hour left, Tom,” Harry stated.
You lifted your head in the direction of the familiar stranger. It was curly brunette, the one who had knocked your coffee out of your hand and given zero fucks about it.
“Who’s there, Harry?” you asked, staying hidden in your seat.
“Just my older brother, Tom. I don’t talk about him much ‘cause he’s a dick,” he said, raising his voice at the end, making sure Tom could hear him.
“Right, I’m the dick,” Tom mumbled to himself before snapping back, “call me another name and I won’t be giving you a ride home tonight. Also, who’s the girl?”
“Y/N, she’s my friend,” he replied, paying no mind to his brother.
Tom brought it upon himself to scope you out. He wandered through the isles of books and looked at all the seats in the library, finally finding you to be sitting with his brother. His eyes scanned your body, admiring the suddenly too tight tank top and short skirt on you.
“Hey, coffee girl,” he winked.
“You know Tom?” Harry glanced at you, confused.
“No, I don’t. I just know that he’s a douche who can suck and choke on his own dick,” you had tensed and your anger from the afternoon had started rising again.
“I’m sure you’d like to,” his stance not faltering.
“Son of a bitch,” you simply flipped him off, not wanting to put anymore effort into him than necessary.
He chuckled and brought a chair over to sit himself next to you. The warmth of his body was radiating off of him.
“Pride and Prejudice, a classic. I’ve never read it, though. Would you say the 2005 film was worthy of its positive reviews?” Tom tried to start a conversation, but you ignored him, scooting your chair away from his.
“C’mon, darling, if you’re still mad about the coffee, I can make it up to you,” this peeked your interest.
“How so?” You asked, placing your chin in the palm of your hand.
“You and me, tomorrow at 12 P.M, that french café near the garden. See you then?” He offered, arching his brow.
You sat silently, thinking about it, “Fine, but don’t think that this is a date.”
He grabbed a pen and post it, writing his contact information on it, “Whatever you want, princess.”
You snatched the paper out of his hand and began packing your bags. Forgetting that you were wearing practically a strip of fabric around your waist, you bent over and grabbed your bag, giving Tom a great view of your ass and the black, lace panties you wore.
Harry cleared his throat, “Y/N, your skirt.”
Your eyes widened in realization, “Oh shit, sorry.”
You stood up straight, pulling the skirt down as far as possible and started to head out before a voice stopped you.
“Also, feel free to wear that tomorrow,” Tom winked one last time before letting you walk away.
Your face was burning red and you couldn’t help but let your giggle slip through your lips. You were sure gonna wear this tomorrow.