Tom Holland One Shot - Tumblr Posts

a stupid mistake

my gif please don’t steal 🥰

a/n: sorry for the month long hiatus... i’ve been stress recently with not having many friends and moving along with my school,,, it’s also my first anniversary of starting this tumblr so look out for that (it should be this friday i think)... enjoy the angsty fic ♥︎

pairing: mob!tom x reader

warnings: cursing, sO much AngSt, slight slut-shaming, light violence, pure fluff at the end uwu

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It all started with your forgetfulness. You were stressed and worried because of Tom. You knew how dangerous it was for him to be running the strongest mob in England. Worries littered your thoughts, and you couldn’t help but be forgetful. 

You didn’t understand how Tom could’ve gotten so infuriated about you forgetting to lock the front door of your flat. Yes, you knew he was only caring for your well-being, but his reaction was excessive. 

“Fuck, Y/N, you could’ve gotten into serious danger! What if a rival mob came here and took you away? Do you realize how careless you’re being?” Tom shouted at you, fists clenched.

You looked at him with wide, watering eyes, “I-It was just a stupid mistake. Besides, I’m still here, aren’t I?”

He scoffs, laughing at your counter. A hand moves from his hips and runs through his gelled, brunette locks. He saunters over to the fireplace, looking at the picture frames of moments you shared together. With another chuckle, he sent the frames crashing to the floor.

You flinched at the resonating sound.

“A stupid mistake,” he whispers to himself, “Would it’ve been stupid if someone kidnapped you and used you against me?”

You opened your mouth to reply, only to be cut off by his seething stare.

“I know that you’re still here. You got lucky, so what? Do you want them to take you away? Are you with me to whore around with other mobs?” He spat.

You looked up at your boyfriend, hurt accented your features.

“I would never use anyone to whore around, especially not with you. I can’t believe you would even say that. Out of all people, I’d think you’d know me best. I guess I was wrong,” you murmured the end, arms hugging yourself.

You heard his footsteps approaching you. Your eyes were trained on the crystal droplets on the wooden floor. Tears were uncontrollably rolling down your cheeks and onto the ground. When you knew Tom wasn’t looking, you would quickly wipe them away. To your dismay, you knew his eyes were locked on you, giving you leeway to dry your tears.

“I don’t think you should be talking back to me,” he gripped one of your arms tightly, “I’ve given you everything you could dream for, and this is how you repay me? By making yourself a free target?”

“I’m sorry, I forgot,” you spoke weakly.

“You forgot? You have nothing to do. You’re living your life off of me. You can do whatever the hell you want, whenever you want. So, please, tell me how you could forget a task as simple as locking the door?” He placed a finger at your chin, forcing your red-rimmed eyes to meet his.

Your lips shook as you said nothing but stared into his raging eyes. Whoever this man ahead of you was, it certainly wasn’t your boyfriend. Your Tom. This Tom was the man behind mysterious disappearances and stomach turning murders. 

This wasn’t an argument between to lovers anymore; it was an interrogation between a surprised victim and the devil.

A whimper escaped your lips, following strings of sobs. Your tears flowed freely, drenching your face. You closed your eyes to avoid the man’s stare, but it was all you could see. 

You could feel his grip loosen and took the opportunity to run. You bolted up the stairs and into your shared bedroom. You slammed the door behind you and made sure to lock it.

You could hear his loud footsteps nearing the door and decided to reinforce the door by placing a chair against it. Feeling slightly secured, you jumped into your bed and buried yourself under the sheets. 

A gentle knock sounded, “Y/N, darling?”

You pulled your pillow into the sheets and wrapped your head with it, attempting to block out his voice. 

Tom was the last person you wanted to think about at that moment and time, but he was stuck in your mind. His piercing stare was engraved in your memory.

Another knock.

“Love? If you can hear me, I’m sorry. I overreacted. I really love and care for you and knowing that you’re in danger because of me breaks my heart. I’m so sorry if I scared you earlier. Please open the door,” he spoke softly.

You pulled the pillow harder and squeezed your eyes shut, holding back your tears. You were silently begging for him to leave you alone. Fortunately, after waiting a bit longer, you were met with complete silence.

The silence was disturbed by the faint sound of key jangling and a chair scraping against the floor.

You scrunched yourself into a tighter ball as if it would shield and hide you.

“Y/N?” Tom looked at the lump on the bed.

You heard rustling and felt the bed dip under his weight. A light hand was placed on your shoulder and began to stroke you in an attempt to comfort you.

“I’m really, truly am sorry. I didn’t mean what I said earlier. I’m just worried about you. If anything happens to you, it’s on me. It’s because I failed to protect you. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself knowing you got hurt because of me.” Failing to get a response from you, he continued, “I don’t deserve you. You’re a blessing in disguise, my blessing in disguise. I remember those dark days before I met you. Training drained all of my energy and left me feeling weak and unworthy of life. I couldn’t even look at myself in the mirror whilst getting ready. Everything felt dull. Then, I met you. You brought the happiness back into my life. I felt so... so complete, so full of life. If it weren’t for you, I don’t know if  I’d even be here, today. You saved me. You, the love of my life.”

You relaxed under him and peeked your head out under the sheets. You looked at him with soft, admiring eyes. He looked back at you with adoring eyes, flashing you a gracious smile.

“Please believe me, love. I know I hurt you, and I know what I said was wrong, but I love you with all my heart. You can leave me if you want; it’s what I deserve, anyways,” his eyes filled with tears, and he looked away, avoiding your gaze.

As a tear rolled down his cheek, you reached out and wiped it away. He looked at you, shocked. 

“I love you, too,” you whispered earnestly.

With a laugh, he dropped himself on top of you, enveloping you in his arms. He placed kisses all over your face, making you giggle.

“Tommy, stop,” you blushed, pushing him away. With a more serious tone in your voice, you spoke, “I forgot to lock the door because I was worried about you, Tommy. You’ve been working so hard, recently, and when you come with those deep dark circles under your eyes, it breaks my heart. I’m sorry for being so careless. I must’ve caused unnecessary panic.”

He softens at your reasoning and caresses your cheek, “I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier. If I’d known you were worried for me, I wouldn’t’ve reacted that way. I’m so sorry.”

“From now on, can we talk things out peacefully? I hate fighting with you,” you pouted at the brunette.

“I agree,” he smiled, “Now, let’s just cuddle and sleep away the day. Would you like that?”

“I would,” you replied before reaching up to kiss him, only to miss.

Chuckling, he leaned down and completed the kiss for you.

Love your writing

If you have time please write some soft #mob!tom

failed surprises

pairing: soft mob!tom x reader

genre: angst, mostly fluff

warnings: y/n worrying about tom, sobbing, holding each other, soft comforting with tom

a/n: i’m not really back from my hiatus but i just wanted to give you guys something to read,,, enjoy i guess 

masterlist

You sat quiet and alone in your large, shared bedroom. The television ahead of you shone brightly, but you paid it no mind. Your eyes were glued to your phone, reading each text Tom had sent you before going on his “business trip.” You hadn’t heard from him for days, and knowing his job, there was a possibility he wouldn’t come back.

how’s my darling? i hope you’re safe and healthy. i wish i could be with you. don’t stay up too late. i love you! goodnight baby ♡

sent: 1:39 A.M. September 29, 2020

Tears rolled down your face as the dark thoughts sunk deeper into your mind. You tried your best to fight away these thoughts, but you were too weak. You were fatigued, worried, and depressed. You could easily drown in your emotions, and you did.

The soft hums from the television were interrupted by your heart-wrenching sobs. You clutched your phone close to your chest and let your tears flow freely.

Unbeknownst to you, though, was that the man you yearned so deeply for was standing right outside of your door. 

Tom had planned on surprising you, not texting you about the date of his arrival. He thought that it would be a fun, pleasant gift to surprise you with his presence, but once he heard your pained cries coming from your shared room, he immediately regretted his plan.

Dropping the flowers he held in his hands, he opened the door to see you laying on your side, the television’s brightness lighting you multiple different colors.

He rushed over to your side, holding your shaking body in his arms.

“It’s alright, darling, I’m here,” you immediately responded to the sound of his voice, cuddling further into the familiar scent.

“Tommy,” your voice squeaked.

His hand reached to the top of your head and began to stroke your hair, “I’m here, love, I’m back.”

“You’re back,” you hiccuped.

“That’s right, love. I’m so sorry for worrying you. I thought it would be a good idea to surprise you. That’s why I didn’t talk to you for these past few days,” he placed a kiss at the top of your head.

Reassured that he was in no harm not that you expected him to get hurt, i mean look at him, your tears came to a halt, and a smile made its way onto your lips. You stretched yourself upwards and stole a quick kiss from Tom, making him blink in shock.

“You’re stupid,” you said blatantly, “If you wanted to surprise me, you should’ve stayed in contact with me. I get that you spoil things a lot, but you really know how to worry a woman.”

“I do not spoil things easily,” he pouted, furrowing his brows.

“So you’re telling me that you didn’t ruin your own Valentine’s Day plan by accidentally telling me a week earlier?” You arched a brow at him, fully knowing he couldn’t deny it.

“Ugh, fine, I admit I messed up that once, but-” you cut him off with another one of his mishaps.

“And that time, on my birthday-” you’re cut off abruptly by Tom’s rushed acknowledgements.

“Okay, okay, so I do spoil things a lot. You still love me, though,” he smirked, kissing the tip of your nose.

“That I do,” you giggled, cheeks flushing a rose red.

The two of you sat in each other’s embrace, the sound of the your quiet television humming keeping the room from being silent.

Tom admired your puffy, pink cheeks and red-rimmed eyes, staring at your beautiful figure. He loved every part of you, from every flaw to perfection. 

“What?” You squirmed under his gaze.

“Nothing,” he smiled softly, “’m just grateful to have met such an amazing girl, even have the chance to make her mine forever.”

As he talked about you, you swore you could see his eyes twinkling with love and admiration. You hoped your eyes shone like his when you looked at him.

Oh, how the two of you were whipped, in your own world, loving each other with all of your life.

50 and 59 with mob Tom

skin ‘n teeth

❧ prompt: “Why are you so jealous?” & “Bite me.”

❧ pairing: mob!tom x brat!reader

❧ genre: suggestive, slight angst (?)

❧ warnings: mentions of eye-fucking, biting kink, hickeys, manhandling, soft!tom for 0.001 seconds

❧ a/n: so i’ve decided to actually be somewhat active again but not really. i’m changing the format of my work, if you couldn’t tell. please send in more requests because i actually have no ideas anymore so yeah. in another post i’ll explain a little more why i decided to go on a hiatus. you can check it out if you want

masterlist

Tom stormed into the room, you trailing right after him. 

“What was that?” He fumed, fists clenching at his sides.

“What was what?” You asked, snapping back at the man.

“You know wha-” Tom takes a deep breath to prevent himself from breaking into a violent state, “You were throwing yourself at Harrison this whole night. Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”

“I wasn’t throwing myself at Harrison, Tom,” you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“Yeah, you were throwing certain eyes at him, though,” he snapped, ears growing red with anger.

“And you weren’t?” You glared at your boyfriend.

“I’m pretty sure I’m dating you for a reason, Y/N. If I wanted to get with Haz, I could’ve a while ago,” humor slipped into his tone.

“No, Tom,” you groaned, getting frustrated, “I’m talking about that girl.”

“Analia?” He took the bitterness spreading further on your face as confirmation, “You know I have to entertain her if I want to maintain business with Boivin.”

“Well you don’t have to entertain her to the extent of letting her undress you with her eyes,” you rolled your eyes for about the fiftieth time that night.

“Undress me with her eyes?” Tom let out a dark laugh, “You were doing that to Haz tonight, and besides, I can’t control what she does.”

“You kept responding to her, though,” you feebly spat.

“Why are you so jealous? You know I only have eyes for you,” he said, sighing as if the conversation was tiring him.

His evident worn-out tone made your anger peak. Huffing loudly, you spun on the heel of your foot, exiting the tension-filled room. 

“Where are you going now?” You heard his voice groan behind you.

Your feet carried you down the empty corridor, the clacking of your heels echoing as you rushed away from the Brit. Tom’s voice rang in your ears, demanding you to stop walking. You ignored him as you made your way into your shared bedroom.

Pushing the door closed behind you, you undressed yourself and changed into a comfortable, satin dress. You freed your feet from the restricting shoes, shivering as your feet touched the cold floor. Exchanging the heels for dark grey plush slippers, you made your way onto the balcony, resting your hands on the marble balustrade. You looked up at the dark sea overhead, stars twinkling in the abyss. 

After some time, you heard the sound of a door clicking open behind you but decided to ignore it. A warmth replaced the coolness of your back, and a pair of hands were placed onto your hips. 

“Darling,” you heard the familiar British accent whisper into the crook of your neck, “I’m sorry. Stop ignoring me, please.”

The longer you stayed silent, he progressively became more dominant.

“Babygirl, why are you being such a brat tonight?” Warm, wet lips latched onto your neck, sucking and pulling at the taut skin.

Still not able to elicit any response from you, he worked his way up your neck to your ear, nibbling at the lobe.

“If I were you, I’d respond. You’re already going to get a punishment, do you want it to be even worse?” His deep, husky voice vibrated down your spine. 

“Bite me,” you smirked, tough facade not breaking.

He growled, thrusting his hips into you before his teeth connected with your neck. After getting some successful marks on the skin, he forced you to face him, throwing you over his shoulder and slapping your stuck-out ass. Pushing the doors of your room open, he threw you onto the bed, climbing above your figure and leaning down to feast more at your neck.

“Don’t enjoy this too much. I still have to punish you for your behavior tonight.”

With a whimper from your swollen lips, he began ravishing you, starting an endless night of pleasure.

exam motivation drabble

❧ prompt: there isn’t really a story to this. really, it’s, hopefully, a motivator for students, whatever age, to work hard in school and life. i hope this helps you destress and find your comfortable environment to study in.

❧ pairing: tom x legal student!reader

❧ genre: fluff, anti-stress, motivation

❧ warnings: literally none, this is a stress-free environment excuse me

❧ a/n: i just wanted to write something short and hopefully stress relieving for you readers because i know finals season is here. also, this applies to any tests or exams or finals or whatever thing your having. i hope that this will help you feel more inspiration to study and try your best in life in general. i made this a short drabble so you procrastinators can get inspired and open your books to study. i love you guys. don’t give up!

masterlist                     prompt list

You sat in the dark, a dim light shone on the worn-out pages of your thick notebook. Earbuds were stuffed deeply in your ears, the wire connected to your phone. The tunes of your favorite songs to study with played lightly in your ears. Your eyes scaled over your notes for what felt like the hundredth time that night. Once you reached the bottom of the page, you sat back, relaxing in your chair. You leaned your head back, hands coming up to rub your eyes. As your hands left surface they were rubbing, you immediately winced at the sudden brightness your eyes were met with. Warm hands were placed on your shoulders and your boyfriend’s face came into view.

Smiling, you pull out your earbuds, whispering, “Hi, Tommy.”

“Hey, darling,” he leaned down and kissed your cheek. “How’s studying going? You feel alright?” He asked, looking at the piles of notes messily laid on your desk.

“’M doing just fine. I’m right on schedule, no procrastinating this year,” you smiled, yawning.

“That’s great, love,” he began planting small pecks over your face, “So proud of you.”

Giggling when his lips met yours, you lifted your head from its position, “I’m proud of me, too. I think I’ll study some more tonight too.”

Pouting, Tom whined, “But you said we could watch movies tonight.”

Gently kissing the tip of his nose, you smile, “We can watch movies after I study a page more.” 

He let out a deep-throated groan, “Fine.”

“Love you, Tommy,” you bid him goodbye, reinserting your earbuds.

“Love you, too, princess,” he whispered back, noticing you had already delved back in your notes.

The amount of admiration and pride he had for you was unimaginable. Seeing you work so hard inspired him to work even harder in his career of acting. You were his pride and joy, and he was never going to let go of you.

Can you please please do one where mob Tom has to go on like a business meeting for like two months or something and can’t have contact with y/n and in those two months she starts working out and loses a bit of weight and he comes home all proud SMUT PLEASEE Im trying to lose weight and I would literally cry if someone was proud of my weight loss

two-for-one reward

❧ prompt: hard work always pays off, and the prize you get always varies

❧ pairing: mob!tom x reader

❧ genre: suggestive, fluff

❧ warnings: one curse word shit, mentions of hickeys, mentions of horniness, suggestive ending

❧ a/n: i decided to write this for the upcoming week because i have my finals and a lot of work to do for school that i’m stressed about oops so hopefully this’ll be enough content for now. i personally am also exercising, and may i just say, it’s the most rewarding thing ever. tips that i can give are to be do it for yourself and not others, as well as not to put yourself down. don’t stress about your results or not seeing improvement. you’re doing great as it is, and you should be proud that your taking action. i also did not write any smut in this for i don’t feel comfortable writing in such genre anymore, especially because i haven’t been dabbling in that area for a while. like i said in my other post, i will try to return to writing nsfw works, but for now, i will only be writing suggestive. i am so sorry :( i hope the suggestiveness is enough. enjoy xx

masterlist                     prompt list

Two weeks ago, Tom had to go on a trip for his business. Though he considered bringing you along, he didn’t want to involve you in the mob business further than you already were. He left you in the safety of his mansion, accompanied by many of his most trusted men. As much as he wanted to leave Harrison, Sam, or Harry with you, he needed them to come along with him on this mission as backup. 

Within the two weeks he had been gone, you had too much free time on your hands. Not being allowed to leave his property or invite friends over, you were left with barely any sources of entertainment.

One day, though, as you were walking down the large halls, two of Tom’s men trailing behind you, you noticed a room you never ventured in before. Letting your curiosity and boredom lead you, you made your way over to the opaque door. Placing a hand on the metal of the door handle, you winced at the chill that spiked the palm of your hand. Pulling the door open, you were met with a rack of weights placed beside the wall and a treadmill beneath a large television. Walking further into the room, on your right, there was a long pool filled with crystal, teal water. 

Turning to the men behind you, you asked, “Who’s gym is this?”

“Mr. Holland’s, of course,” one spoke up, “we usually aren’t allowed in here, though.”

Looking at the large mirror wall, you looked at your physique. You didn’t need to lose weight, as your body was already perfect as it was, but you could improve your muscle strength and stamina. With that, you decided that within the two weeks, to fill your time, you would work out everyday for hours on end. 

At the beginning of this strengthening journey, you were fatigued much more easily than you were compared to the end of the two week span. You ended every jogging session with your hands supporting your body on your knees, sweat dripping down your face, chest heaving as you panted for air. You could barely hold a plank for 15 seconds, and your arms were established to be weaker than you imagined as you dipped down to do your first pushup. Legs bending into a squat, you felt your thighs shaking by the time you reached twentieth rep. Every time you ended every workout, you felt rewarded and were proud when you looked in the mirror to see your figure tightening.

By the thirteenth day, and final day to yourself, you were much stronger and could hold yourself up for much longer. For the short amount of time you had exercised for, your results were extraordinary. You were much skinner and toned than you were when you began. 

That night, you fell asleep in the empty bed once more, your excitement over Tom coming back keeping you awake but the fatigue overpowered it and lulled you to sleep. 

The next morning, you woke bright and early, changing into a long-sleeved, green, lettuce-edged, wrap shirt paired with straight denim jeans. Doing your hair up into a ponytail, you applied a layer of toner and lotion to your face, finishing your look off with a lightly tinted chapstick. 

Rushing down the hallway, you heard the doors opening, followed by the familiar, accented voices.

You saw Tom taking big strides down the corridor you were practically sprinting through and jumped into his arms, shouting, “Tommy!”

“Woah, darling,” he chuckled as you nuzzled your face into the nape of his neck, “I missed you. I guess you missed me too?”

You only nodded in response.

Putting you back onto your feet, Tom looked you up and down, eyes surveying your body, “You look different,” you gave him a look, “In a good way,” he rushed to add on. “You look slimmer and more fit. Did you workout while I was gone? Or am I imagining shit?”

“Actually, i’m quite glad you noticed, but in fact, I did lose weight. I discovered your gym early on and decided to fill my time by working out,” you smiled proudly.

“Not that I didn’t love your body before, you look so hot right now. Would it be weird if I said I’m a little bit turned on?” He asked, a shy grin resting on his face.

“It definitely would be...” you paused for a moment, taking in Tom’s disgruntled expression, “weird if you hadn’t mentioned it. You have no idea how much I want you right now.”

Smirking, he lifted you in his arms, carrying you to the nearest vacant room he could find. His lips were already latched to yours, and, carrying you with one arm, he used his empty hand to strip you from your shirt.

“I’m so proud of you,” he mumbled onto your neck before sucking on the skin, leaving a dark purple mark behind. 

As the day progressed, many more marks were left all over your body that nobody, except for Tom, would be allowed to see: a prize given from Tom for your hard, impressive work.

Hi! I've recently discovered your blog and I love it 😍. I was also wondering, if you could write a fic (obviously if you like the idea, no pressure at all) where the reader is a an assassin, in love with mob!tom. Her last mission was a failure and she came home injuried. Tom was scared to death because she didn't text him or call him (obviously). She was trying to help Tom with his business but she underestimates the other mob. Tom helps her cleaning the wounds, they argued at first but I'm a puddle for happy endings. Thank you for your time, have a nice day 🥰🥰🥰

her blood-stained bodysuit

❧ prompt: all you wanted was to help your mobster boyfriend. you never expected your plan to go all wrong and result in failure. when you return home with blood soaking your suit and drying in your hair, how does Tom react?

❧ pairing: mob!tom x assassin!reader

❧ genre: angst, fluff, action (?)

❧ warnings: mentions of blood, mild gore, fighting, mentions of guns, mentions of hickey, language

❧ a/n: though i should’ve worked on my script for my final, i worked on this instead. i’m not procrastinating, i have everything planned out lmao nah. this fic wasn’t supposed to be as “gore-y” as it came out as, but, like, it’s whatever. hope you enjoyed this fic because i worked on it for like three days lmao. alright bye xx

part 2!

masterlist                     prompt list

Walking into the run-down building, you gripped your gun tightly, eyes open for any sudden attacks. Your ears strained as they listened for any sounds. 

You were suited in an all-black bodysuit, handgun holster around your waist. Your hair had been tightly tied into a bun, no loose hair out to get in your face. A mask had covered half of your face, hiding your identity. 

You barely knew the place you were heading into, but you knew it enough to assassinate your target and escape. You had planned the entire event out. First, you’d rid the place of any cameras and enemy attackers. Then, you’d set a distraction opposite to where you were heading. Finally, once you reached your destination, you’d quickly shoot your target, leaving them a milli-second to breathe before falling cold to the ground. Your escape was easy. You’d climb out of the window and fall right into your vehicle, allowing yourself a fast escape.

As you stepped into the dark, musty building, you saw the first cameras you needed to shoot out. What didn’t occur to you was the loud echo traveling through the entire building: your first mistake.

You continued on, hiding when you saw the first sign of your enemy’s men but continuing once they passed. Unexpectedly, when you began to carry yourself further, you felt a presence watching you. The butt of your gun swung back, hitting someone in the side. They let out a loud groan, alerting everybody nearby. You quickly shot the man dead, rushing to the nearest exit. Unfortunately for you, there was no path for you to escape. There were men in every exit you planned to use when in case of an emergency.

It was like they already knew you were coming.

Deciding to take your chances, you ran, shooting and dodging bullets being shot your way. Luckily, you were a trained assassin with much experience. You found yourself at an exit when someone was able to land a shot in your thigh. Groaning in pain, you perspired on, not letting them take you in. Throwing the broken-down doors shut, you limped your way to the doors out of the building. Thinking you had escaped all the men, you let your guard down for a second to tend to your wounded leg. 

In the midst of your pain, you didn’t notice the man coming up from behind you. He threw a harsh hit to your head, knocking you off balance. With your already injured leg, you fell over easily, head hitting the rugged ground beneath you. You felt a sharp pain spike the side of your head before feeling a warm liquid run down the side of your face. 

Reaching a hand up to feel the warm liquid, you saw red and fired your gun at the grinning man above you. You shot him dead, bullets continuously lodging into his chest. His shirt soaked with his blood.

“Asshole,” you muttered before getting back on your way. 

When you finally reached your car, you took off as fast as you could, knowing that if you didn’t get going, they would be trailing you all the way back.

-

Tom was in his office, reading over some papers when the door abruptly opened. He snapped his head up in anger, knowing that his men knew not to barge in without knocking or they’d face the consequences.

“You better have a good reason as to why-” when he saw Harrison panting and wide-eyed, he paused, worry taking over his thoughts. “What happened?”

“Y/N’s missing,” the blonde said, breathlessly.

“What do you mean missing?” Tom asked, attention fully on Harrison.

“She isn’t in her room or the gym. I’ve tried calling her multiple times, but it keeps going to voicemail,” Haz explained.

“Fuck,” Tom whispered, rushing out of his office to find you.

-

You threw the car door shut, feeling hazy at the loss of blood. Holding your head in pain, you limped before the doors of your home before falling over, vision going black.

-

“Tom, the system says someone’s entered the code into the gate,” Haz said as he saw the notification pop up on the security system.

“That has to be her,” Tom said before running to the home’s main doors.

Pulling open the large door, he was revealed to your limp body laying on the cold floor, with dried blood covering you and fresh blood tangled in your hair. For a moment, Tom assumed the worst and thought you were dead, when he brought himself back to logicality. He placed two fingers to your neck, successfully locating your weak pulse. He let out a happy sigh but remembered that you were still bleeding heavily and needed to be treated right away.

He lifted you up in his arms, carrying you into your shared room. He passed a concerned-looking Harrison, telling him to get the medical supplies.

-

You woke to the feeling of a wet cloth wiping down your cheek. Flinching away from the contact, your eyes weakly shot open to see your brunette boyfriend.

“Tom,” your voice came out weak and hoarse.

“Shh, darling, you need to rest,” he silenced you as he wiped you clean from your blood.

Tom wasn’t mad at you, only a bit frustrated. He wondered why you put yourself at such risk. He knew you to make logical, smart decisions, but here you were, lying in bed severely drained of your blood. He sighed aloud at your recklessness.

His weight lifting off the bed, he stood to put away the bloody towelette, shaking his head as he was consumed by his own thoughts. You watched his back, and you could practically see the disappointment radiating off of him.

“I know I fucked up alright?” You croaked, sighing in shame.

“It’s just so unlike you to be so, so-” a hand reached up to massage his temples, “Just be more careful next time.”

“No,” you bit back, hearing the irritation in his voice, “please, finish your sentence.”

“It doesn’t matter what I was going to say becau-” 

You cut him off, “It does matter. What were you going to say about me?” You suddenly felt a surge of energy run through your veins.

“Why are you trying to pick a fight with me right now? You need to rest,” he tried to tuck you under the covers, only to be pushed away by a weak hand.

“I’m not trying to pick a fight with you. I just want to know what you thought about me,” you snapped.

“Fine, if you want to know so much, I was going to say reckless. It’s so unlike you to be so reckless. There, I said it,” he fired back, annoyed by your consistent nagging. 

You scoffed in disbelief, “I was not being reckless. I had a plan, a well-thought out plan at that, but they somehow intercepted it. I can’t predict things like that happening. At least I had a backup plan or I wouldn’t be here right now.”

You shifted in bed, trying to sit upright, flinching when your head spun at the sudden movement. You grabbed the aching side, trying to subdue the pain.

“Lay down. You’re only going to hurt yourself more, if you sit up,” the accented voice said demandingly. 

You sneered at the demand but listened, regardless. 

“I know what I’m doing, you know? I’m a well-trained assassin, not to mention one of the best ones yet,” you said in a hushed tone.

“I know that. That’s why I’m confused about how you came back so heavily injured. I expected you to know better,” he huffed, turning the light of the room off.

The last comment had hit you harder than you expected. You knew he had high expectations of you, but you never thought he would put you down for messing up once.

Glancing at his silhouette, you never felt as much dislike for a person than you did Tom, at that moment. You liked being critiqued but not insulted. Your line of work was very important, and your pride was big.

He slid into his space beside you, laying flat on his back, arms crossed over the covers. You remained laying on your side beside him, not sparing him a glance.

A wet streak slid down the side of your nose, another following over the bridge of your nose. Reaching a hand up to wipe the liquid away, you realized it was your tears. You tried to quietly sniffle away your tears, but Tom heard them clearly in the radio silent room. 

You weren’t supposed to be weak. You weren’t supposed to shed tears late at night. You were an assassin for fuck’s sake. 

“You know, I was doing it for you,” you whispered. “I was trying to get rid of that stupid asshole that’s been targetting you this entire time,” your tears began to come down harder.

“Darling, why would you do that? As much as I appreciate it, I’d prefer it more if you came home safely and not bleeding out,” he spoke, turning to wrap an arm around your waist.

“I just wanted to help,” you sniffled, cuddling into his warmth.

“I’m sorry for what I said earlier. I was just worried about you,” he murmured as he planted wet kisses on your bare shoulder.

“I know, but it still hurt,” you replied, lifting a hand up to wipe away your excess tears.

“I’m sorry, princess. Can you forgive me?” His lips attacked the supple skin of your neck, gently sucking and leaving a purple mark behind.

You hummed, a hand snaking behind you to push him away, “Yes, I forgive you. Now, leave me alone. I’m tired.”

“Alright, love. Let’s sleep,” he smiled into your neck, arms encasing you in a warm hug, and before you knew it, you fell into a deep sleep.

the right decision

❧ prompt: you and tom grew up together but always as enemies — nothing more, nothing less. as you grow older, you must realize it’s time to be mature. you either must throw tom out of your life or take him in as an ally. which will you choose?

❧ pairing: prince!tom holland x princess!reader

❧ genre: angst, e2l

❧ warnings: light swearing, hints of infidelity, hints of a toxic relationship

❧ a/n: this was half-assed because i didn’t have the will to write this lmao but i feel bad for not posting anything over my break, so... there’s gonna be a second part to this because, like i said, i had no will to write these past few days. happy new years, merry belated christmas/happy belated hanukkah 

chap. 2 →

masterlist                     prompt list

Stepping into the ballroom, you are met with hundreds of pairs of eyes staring at you.

You are clad in an elegant gown of ivory fabrics and sewn-on golden delicacies. Your feet are already stinging in pain from the uncomfortable stilettos you wore. Your hair is pulled back into a braided half-up styles, gentle waves accenting your beautiful face. 

The music abruptly begins, and everybody’s eyes have avert back to converse with the others in the room. Only does one pair of eyes not leave your figure as you glide down the grand staircase.

You can hear your heart pounding loudly in your chest, a bundle of nerves stir in your stomach.

Usually, you avoided attending these crowded occasions because whenever you did, you’d get weird stares from the other princesses.

As you curtsey politely to passing royals, a familiar figure catches your gaze. Closing your eyes into an elongated blink, you open your eyes once again to ensure that your eyes aren’t playing tricks on you. When the image stays the same, it’s all the confirmation you need.

Your longtime arch-nemesis was standing beside a large, marble pillar, smirking at you. 

For a moment, you feel a sudden rush of relief at the familiar face, but dread overtakes you, once again, as you realize that you have to spend the night with the infuriating man. 

From behind you, a hand rests on the small of your back, and a voice fills your ear, “Good evening, darling.”

You stiffen at the familiar voice. Forcing yourself to face the man beside you, you plaster a fake smile on your face. 

“Vincent,” you inwardly cringe at the taste of his name coming off your lips, “I didn’t know you’d be attending tonight.’

“I could say the same for you. You never were one to attend these events,” he eyes you strangely, “Unless you were lying to me?”

Your eyes widen at the accusation, and you scoff, “I don’t lie about foolish verity, unlike some.” Your voice comes out bitter, features mirroring your tone.

“I don’t understand what you're trying to imply, my darling,” a wicked grin grows on Vincent’s face.

You roll your eyes, fists clenching at your sides. You laugh spitefully, desperately trying to prevent yourself from knocking that grin off his face.

“You-” you are cut off by an accented voice.

“Excuse me, who are you?” The voice says.

“Vincent Callon, Prince of Averna,” Vincent bows before raising a suspicious brow at the man, “You are?”

“Tom. Tom Holland of,” the brunette pauses for a moment, “it doesn’t concern you.”

“How disrespectful,” Vincent snarls at Tom’s remark.

“I could say the same about you. What kind of man promises a woman all of his love and loyalty to crush it within less than 24 hours?” Tom snaps, slyly.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Vincent growls through clenched teeth.

“Do I? Or is it you?”

The tension was uncanny to any other being in the room. You, being the reason of which, decide to speak up and end their quarrel.

“Well, it was,” you gulp, “nice to see you again, Vincent, but we must be going. There is much to do, tonight, especially since I don’t often appear at such events.”

Not letting him reply, you grab Tom by the hand and drag him along with you, ignoring the burning sensation of his hand in your small, in comparison, hand. You pull him through the crowd of people, barely acknowledging the glares you received from envious princesses. 

When the pair of you are in an isolated space, you snarl, “What was that?”

“What was what?” He asks, blatantly.

“Don’t do this with me right now. I’m already as mad as it is,” you sigh, hand reaching to massage your temples.

“You seemed uncomfortable,” he shrugged, uselessly.

Scoffing, you reply, “As if you care.” Looking him right in the eyes, albeit making your fierceness falter, you ask him with entirely seriousness in your voice, “Why’d you help me? What do you think you’ll achieve from it?”

Furious, he snaps, “I don’t think I’ll achieve shit from helping you! Why are you assuming the worst of me? I don’t want to keep this petty relationship between us! I’ve known you since you were just a newborn. How long are you going to hate me?”

Shocked at his sudden outburst, you stutter, “T-Tom, I... I don’t know what to say,” he throws you an unimpressed look, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know my behavior offended you. I just thought-”

“Thought that I hated you?”

You shamefully nodded.

“Great to know you think highly of me,” he rolls his eyes, walking past you in fury, hurt, and humiliation.

“Tom,” you call out, turning to face the direction he walked away in.

You thought that if Tom ignored you and let you be, you would be happier and complete, but now that he’s walked out of your life, you can’t help but feel guilty and ashamed of yourself.

Did you make the right decision?

the right decision pt. 2

❧ prompt: you and tom grew up together but always as enemies — nothing more, nothing less. as you grow older, you must realize it’s time to be mature. you either must throw tom out of your life or take him in as an ally. which will you choose?

❧ pairing: prince!tom holland x princess!reader x prince!park jimin

❧ genre: angst, barely any fluff, e2l

❧ warnings: light swearing, slight verbal abuse (nothing too heavy, only degradation), heartbreak ?

❧ a/n: lmao there are so many hidden symbols in this fic except some are revealed so i’ll explain the color symbols in this fic: orange is the change of attraction, pink is romance, and purple is the two characters coming to peace with each other. also this is a bit longer than what i usually write so ;P hopefully the second part makes up for the shitty first chapter lmao. shit, i was originally not going to write a third part but umm... shit. ok see you in the third chapter lmao smh

← chap. 1     chap. 3 →

masterlist                     prompt list

In your white organza, you let your fingertips graze over the delicate petals of the gorgeously growing gardenias. Your dress flows with your movement as you step forward, observing the chrysanthemums. Looking as perfect as usual, you moved ahead to observe your candytufts. All flowers were white, like your dress. 

Truthfully, how you obtained these enchanting flowers still puzzles you. They just suddenly appeared one day when you were considering doing something with the empty space the flowers had suddenly occupied in the garden. However, you don’t care. The flowers are perfect.

Life has become quiescent ever since Tom has left you alone, almost to the point you regret pushing him away. Of course, there was a reason to why you acted the way you did. It was time for you to mature, and Tom wasn’t helping that growth whatsoever. Although the more you think about it, the more you realize that you could’ve taken him in as an ally. You couldn’t avoid him forever, and neither could he. Eventually the two of you would grow to rule your kingdoms as king and queen.

Shaking off the growing feelings of regret, you twirl back to the kingdom, hair whipping around with you. Taking one last breath of the fresh air surrounding you, you drag your heavy body back into the same, old, stodgy castle you’ve been living in for years. 

To your surprise, a handmaiden is waiting for you, instructing you to follow her on behalf of the king, your father. Leading you to the doors of the dining hall, she adjusts and cleans off your dress, combing your hair until it neatly falls onto your shoulders.

“She’s ready,” you hear the handmaiden whisper to the tall standing butler before quickly rushing off.

“Madam,” he says sticking his arm out as the door opens, “Her royal highness, Princess Y/N L/N.”

Awkwardly curtsying in your dress, you look up to see unfamiliar faces sat across your parents’. The first face to draw in your attention is a man that looks young — a bit older than you but almost your age. Suddenly standing, the man bowed, no words spoken. You smile awkwardly before moving to take the seat beside your mother and across from the man. 

“Ah,” the woman sitting across from your mother spoke, “how nice it is to finally meet you.”

You smiled warmly, though forcibly. Your hands rest in your lap, each finger toying with the other. You look down at your manicured hands, taking a moment to put together the pieces, but nothing came to mind. Looking up in frustration, your eyes meet the man across from you. He looks angelic.

His silver hair and pale skin made him look soft. Not only that but his eyes are enchanting. They are a beautiful crystal blue color, reeling you in like you are under a spell. He has plump, pink lips, glistening every time he licks them. 

You hear someone clear their throat, “May I introduce King Park and Queen Park of South Korea and their son, Prince Park Jimin.”

 Looking around expectedly, waiting for your father or mother to speak up, you are only met with eyes staring at you.

“O-Oh,” you cough gingerly, “It’s a honor to meet you, King Park and Queen Park.” Looking over at the silver-haired boy, you shyly smile, “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Prince Park.”

He smiles, and you feel your heart clench at the sight, “And I, you, Princess L/N.”

He stands as you do, bowing to you before stretching a hand out for yours. Hesitantly, you place your hand gently in his and watch as he lightly kisses the back of your hand. Sitting back down, you feel heat rising to your cheeks as your thumb strokes the tingling sensation on the back of your hand. 

“Great,” your father quips, “Now that we’ve familiarized ourselves, let’s talk about the marriage.”

At the word, your head snaps up to look at your father. Your gaze seems to be searching for something, a sign that tells you that your ears are deceiving you. Sadly, nothing suggests that your ears are wrong. 

For the rest of the discussion, you’re not in your body, soul floating about and out of the kingdom. What pulls you back to reality is the sensation of the chair attempting to be pulled out from underneath you.

Abruptly, you stand up, curtseying the Park Royalty goodbye.

“See you soon, princess,” Jimin says, exchanging the title for a cheeky nickname, before kissing the back of your hand once more but letting his lips linger longer. 

You blush away from his touch and give him a shy smile as you watch his slim figure slip out of the large doors.

Once the family is no longer in your sight, you burst at your parents, “Marriage? Seriously?” 

You are infuriated. You never expected to be married off to some stranger, nonetheless at such a young age. You had just turned 21, for fucks sake. Moreover, they didn’t even consider discussing the situation beforehand.

“Look, darling,” your mother places a delicate hand on your cheek, “We’re growing old and soon we won’t be able to protect this kingdom. We need to pass it on to someone more reliable and trustworthy.”

“Yeah, then pass it on to me. Just me,” you clarify.

“As much as I’d love to do that, you know it’s not possible. You’re not possibly strong enough on your own,” she gives you sympathetic eyes.

“I’m- Excuse me? Not only are you stripping away my freedom of choosing my own significant other, but you’re now degrading me?” You snap, seeing red. 

“You know that’s not what I mean-” your father cuts your mother off.

“Enough! We gave you a chance already,” he huffs, anger rising as well.

“What chance? Vincent? If I had known that-”

“Vincent? That silly boy? No, that was show enough that you can’t choose the right people to help rule this kingdom, but albeit that wasn’t your chance. There’s someone else that’s been beside you all your life. It’s been planned for ages, and you just had to go off and ruin it,” your father roars.

“Who else is there? My handmaidens?” You laugh sarcastically, tears filling your eyes.

“Think, you foolish child! If you can’t even figure out who it is, you definitely won’t be able to rule a kingdom alone,” you shake angrily at your father’s debasing words.

Thinking as hard as you can through your sorrowful rage, a face pops into your head.

Tom.

“Has it finally clicked yet?” Your father’s voice breaks your trance.

“Tom,” you whisper, weakly.

Without any other words, he nods, escorting your mother and himself out of the room, leaving you to think to yourself. 

“Excuse me, ma’am,” a handmaiden spoke up, “would you like us to prepare anything? Like a bath or supper?”

Shaking your head, you dismissed her, thoughts racing in your head.

It suddenly got all too stuffy to be staying in the kingdom. You had to get out. You had to breathe in the fresh air of the wet grass, old, growing trees, and your precious flower garden.

Moving as fast as your heel-clad feet could take you, you rush out and towards your white flowers when you notice a silhouette standing above them, watering them.

His brunette locks shine in the golden light of the setting sun. As you move closer, you can see his well-constructed body through his garments. What he wore wasn’t anything special, just a white button down and grey trousers. 

“Did you know?” You ask, voice wavering.

“Of course I knew,” he replies, quietly, voice soft to soothe you.

“Why didn’t you-” you felt yourself choke on your words, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to force you into falling for me,” he simply shrugs, hands playing with your flowers. “Although, seeing where we are now, I can’t say that what I did has encouraged us towards marriage.”

Standing in silence together, the pair of your stare at the flowers, the white of the petals turning orange, then pink, and then purple, following the shifting colors of the sky. 

“I’ve missed you,” you suddenly blurt out.

Tom turns his head to face you, “I’ve missed you as well, darling.”

Tears erupt from your eyes, and you fall into Tom’s chest, arms wrapping around his torso.

“I’m sorry,” you sob, “I didn’t mean what I said at the ball. I don’t know what got into me.”

You felt him press a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

“It’s alright, darling,” he sighs, hand rubbing the arch of your back.

“It’s not. What I said was wrong. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry,” you shake your head, hair sticking onto your wet skin.

“I forgive you, darling. Please stop crying,” he says sweetly before pulling back to wipe away your tears.

You look at him with glistening, doe eyes. Your hair is a wild mess, and the minimal makeup you wore had smudged off, revealing your natural beauty.

“Do you want to know something about your flowers?” Tom asks, trying to change the subject and cheer you up.

Nodding, you give him a silent answer.

“These,” he points at your chrysanthemums, “mean truth,” next, the candytufts, “indifference, and finally, my favorite,” the gardenias, “secret love.” He looks over to see your sparkling eyes of fascination, “Ever wonder how you got these?”

“Yes, I wonder every time I see them. Do you know who or how?” You ask, completely oblivious to the fact that he knows you didn’t personally request for the flowers to be planted.

He chuckles, “It was I, darling.”

You turn to face him in shock, “You?”

“Let me explain,” he smiles, “I first sent these to you when I realized my feelings for you. The gardenias represented my hidden love for you, the white chrysanthemums represented that I was going to tell you soon, and the candytufts represented you and your indifference for my feelings. You were perfect. You are perfect,” he corrects himself, “Then, when you started Vincent, I became jealous, and I was mad that you chose the man that you had barely known over me. I was beside you all of your life, yet you chose him,” Tom’s face contorts in jealousy. “I became bitter, and whenever I saw you, I saw him. He was always beside you. I treated you more harshly because of him, but when I heard news of your breakup, I immediately regretted the way I treated you. I should’ve protected you, rather than ignoring you.”

With eyes of awe, you whisper to yourself, “Tom likes me?”

“I’d say ‘love,’ but if you’re more comfortable with ‘like’ then I happy that you’re happy,” he chuckles.

You warm smile drops, “I’m sorry I treated you with such dislike. If I’d known, I would’ve respected you.”

The smug look on his face drops as well, “Does this mean you don’t feel the same way about me?”

“Well, to be honest, Tom, up until a couple weeks ago, I thought we had a mutual hate, but I do think that I have potential feelings for you that are slowly but surely arising. Although, even if we wanted to be together, it would be impossible,” you look down at your hands, tears developing in your quivering eyes at the mention of the arranged marriage.

He smiles lamentably, “I know.”

The two of you stand in silence, heads hanging in despair. None of you have anything else to say, only there to enjoy being in each others presence. You only move when you hear sniffles that don’t belong to you.

“Tom?” You say his name, hopelessly. Not receiving a response from him, you look up to see his shaking figure. “Oh, Tommy,” you coo, taking him into your arms. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” you rub his back, face snuggled in the crook of his neck.

You let Tom sob in your arms until he ran out of tears to cry. When he finally collects himself and is in the right state of mind, again, he places a gentle kiss to your cheek before running off and leaving you to yourself in your dark garden.

You look up at the sky. The sun is already long gone, and the stars have come out to play with the moon. A tear falls down your cheek, left with confused feelings and a broken heart.

Jimin sits on the marble seat of his balcony, staring up at the dark sky, wondering what you were up to at the moment. He was infatuated with you at first glance; your beauty lures and traps him. 

Jimin smiles at the twinkling stars, a sense of thrill flowing through him.

There were three stars that shone especially brightly that night. One of said stars twinkled its last day, falling unannounced, leaving the one star sad and confused and the other excited and ready.

Hey, it’s me again. For the part two of ‘her blood-stained bodysuit’ where the reader is still upset about tom expecting to high of her, the next morning tom noticed it and try make it up to her..? Something like that... or you can make it your own way 😊 thank you in advance

her blood-stained bodysuit pt. 2

❧ prompt: all you wanted was to help your mobster boyfriend. you never expected your plan to go all wrong and result in failure. when you return home with blood soaking your suit and drying in your hair, how does Tom react?

❧ pairing: mob!tom x assassin!reader

❧ genre: angst, fluff

❧ warnings: cursing, mentions of blood, mentions of injuries, slamming a glass cup onto a counter (?), mentions of insecurity

❧ a/n: i got a backup laptop babies! it’s not actually mine but i’m going to get mine fixed soon :)) hopefully this part lived up to your standards, anon. i tried to make it angsty-er than the first part since someone reposted it saying it wasn’t as angsty as they expected. i didn’t find it as an insult because i took it more in a constructive criticism way. anyways, enjoy!

part 1!

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You flinched awake, placing a palm at the side of your head. Your eye shut in pain, letting out a shaking breath. You looked ahead of you, stabilizing yourself, before using both of your arms to push yourself up into a sitting position. Beside you, you heard the sheets rustling and felt movement beneath them. You froze in your spot, turning to face the sleeping figure.

Tom laid peacefully, eyes closed and lips slightly parted. His steady breathing filled the radio silent room. Flashes of the night before filled your mind, Tom’s voice ringing in your ears. 

“It’s so unlike you to be so reckless.“

“I expected you to know better.”

You let out an audible huff, forcing your aching off the bed. Your blistered feet touched the cool floor, relaxing your tense body. Quietly, you made your way to the bathroom with an occasional limp. 

Looking yourself over in the mirror, you took note that you looked like a mess: (h/c) hair a tangled mop, dry, cracked lips, and bruises littered your figure. You winced at the sight and began towards the shower. 

Stepping into the warm, fog-filled cubicle, you sighed as the warm water relaxed your tight muscles. Your arms wrapped around your torso, holding yourself as your hair flattened against your scalp. You let a hand fall to your thigh, fingertips dancing along the hem of your waterproof bandage.

Sighing, you stepped into the empty gym. You closed the door behind you, pulling off your large, black jacket. You placed the piece onto the bench, sitting beside it to put on your black tennis shoes.

The gym was a sad room at those hours. The hours when everyone was still asleep or slowly awakening, when the rising sun was concealed by the overwhelming fog. Through the teal-tinted glass, the opaque light in the room was faint, shadows hiding in the corners of the room. The air was still, an occasional shift when there was the slightest of movements. 

A chill ran down your spine, as you shook, and goosebumps slowly arose from your soft skin. Rubbing your arms for warmth, you grabbed the black hair tie and pulled your hair up into a tight ponytail.

You worked hard for the next couple of hours, pushing yourself over your limit. Occasionally, you stopped when you felt a sharp pain in your thigh or your vision spun you off balance. 

After another shower, you made your way into the kitchen, smelling of fresh soap. You grabbed a glass of water, chugging the cup in one go. You leaned against the island of your kitchen, staring out the large window and at the gorgeous scenery of trees. 

“I’ve done everything I can to be the top,” you spoke, quietly, “Where did I go wrong?” 

“G’morning, darling,” Tom’s groggy voice filled your ears, as you felt him place a gentle kiss to your temple. 

You flinched back at the sudden contact, strangely alert to your surroundings. 

“Sorry. Did I touch your wound?” A concerned hand came up to your face, gently moving your hair behind your ear.

Shaking your head, you moved towards the stove, thinking about ways to improve yourself on the field. Just as an idea popped in your head, his voice came up again. 

“It’s so unlike you to be so reckless.“

“I expected you to know better.”

Your head snapped up, and you looked behind you. “What’d you say?” You asked with a venomous tone.

“I just asked if you were feeling better, love,” he walked up to you and placed an arm around your waist, “Are you sure you’re feeling alright?”

Maneuvering out of his grasp, you replied, “Yes, I’m fine. I don’t need to be babied, Tom. I just have a lot going on in my mind.”

Concerned, Tom pushed further, “You know you can tell me anything.”

Frustrated, you harshly put down the glass in your hand, almost shattering it against the counter. 

Tom flinched.

“Look, I’m just really tired and sore and frustrated, right now. If you could just leave me alone for a few minutes, maybe I’ll feel like putting up with you later,” you snapped, walking out of the room, leaving him no time to speak.

As expected, he followed after you, wondering what had gone wrong. He thought back to the night before, trying to remember if your attitude could possibly be a symptom of the medications you took. Shaking his head, he reflected the argument the pair of you had.

That must be it, he nodded to himself.

Unknowingly, you lead him to the gym, but when he tried to pull the door open, the glass wouldn’t budge. From within, he heard your gentle grunts and soft breaths, leading him to the conclusion of you exercising. Thinking to the injuries you had returned with, he began to worry and panic for you and your health.

What were you thinking? What if you injure yourself further? Why aren’t you prioritizing your health? Tom thought, growing frustrated, mostly at himself.

His fist banged on the glass, head spinning with negative thoughts, “Darling, you need to let yourself rest. You’ll only hurt yourself more if you push yourself over your limit.”

You heard the faint murmur of his shouts but decided to ignore it. If you were stronger, you wouldn’t be in the position you were in: a limp in your walk, ache in your thigh, and an occasional blur to your vision.

Stepping onto the treadmill, you dialed the speed to 5 miles per hour to start as a warm up. Within a minute, you pushed yourself to a run at 6 miles per hour, then to a sprint at 7. You were panting for air, sweat dripping down your face.

 You could still hear Tom’s protests, angering you further. 

Unsatisfied that you could still hear the noises in your environment, you brought the speed up to 7.5 miles per hour, a sharp pain slowly becoming more and more noticeable in your thigh. The blood that rushed to your ears drowned out anything and everything you didn’t want to hear.

Barely any time had passed when the faint pain in your leg began to feel like someone was constantly pressing on your wound. Additionally, your head was pounding, and your vision was growing blurrier by every passing minute. 

You brought a hand up to your forehead, fingers pressing into your temples, attempting to massage the pain away. Unfortunately, the pain stayed, and if anything, increased tenfold. 

“Fuck,” you murmured, arms grasping at the hand supports of the treadmill.

Before you knew it, your vision turned black, and the sensation of your body getting thrown into the air was all you felt before you went unconscious.

-

After too many attempts, Tom was able to successfully break the lock of the gym door. Hearing you continuously and vigorously increase the speed of the conveyor belt made him move in haste, leading to his multiple failures. He was too worried about your wellbeing to think straight.

As he stepped into the room, he saw your hands fall limp by your side, and your body rocked to the side, off balance. With wide eyes, he ran to your slipping figure before you could make contact with the hard floor.

“Darling? Love? Are you alright? Please answer me,” he cried, looking at the pain-etched face of yours.

Not receiving a response, he quickly stood, carrying you bridal style in his arms and back into your shared bedroom.

-

You rolled your head to the side, hearing a rustling beneath you. Your body felt overheated, aching to feel even the slightest of breezes.

As you began to move your leg to kick the thick duvet off your body, you flinched in pain, reflexively grabbing said leg to support it.

“Don’t move. You’ll only make it hurt more,” a gentle voice explained from behind you.

Consumed by your pain, you hadn’t even noticed you were tucked in your bed, back in your shared bedroom. 

The familiar brunette you had spent the day trying to ignore protruded from the shadows, eyes quivering and shining with tears.

“What happened?” You asked, throat oddly hoarse.

“You overworked yourself. You fainted whilst running,” he explained, “I was so fucking worried, darling. I almost lost you,” he shook his head, “No, I could’ve lost you, but I didn’t. I’m so lucky to have opened that door before you hit the ground.” A few tears began to leak out of the inner corners of his chocolate eyes as he thought of the scenario of him not saving you in time.

“It’s all my fault,” he let out a loud so, “If I hadn’t said that you weren’t good enough or that you were too reckless, you wouldn’t be here,” he placed a hand onto the bed, “in this wretched bed, resting as you are now. Your thigh wouldn’t be bleeding out, right now, if I hadn’t insulted you out of frustration and worry. I wasn’t—” he hiccuped, “I didn’t have my head on straight. If I did, I would’ve been more generous and not passive to you. You were only trying to help me, and all I repaid you with were insults.”

Pitifully looking at your boyfriend, you moved a weak arm to his hand, tugging him down onto his knees. You patted his curled locks, giving him the best smile you could muster.

“I know you were concerned for me, but what you said really hurt me. You know how,” you thought for a proper word for a moment, “insecure I can be about my abilities in this field. There’s so much— too much competition in my industry and having to keep up this perfect, high-leveled assassin façade is taking a toll on my mental health.”

Tom’s eyes shook with despair. He never knew you felt this way. He’d never want you to have to deal with your hardships alone.

“But, because of you, I’ve been trying my best and pushing myself over so many of my limits to make me the best I can be. I mean, you’re one of the most powerful mobsters to be, so it would only make sense if I were one of the most successful and strongest assassin, right?”

Shaking his head, he cried, “No, not if it means breaking yourself apart and tearing your morale into pieces.” He grabbed both your small hands, enclosing them in his. He looked straight into your eyes, sniffling away his tears, “I don’t care whether you’re number one or number 3 billion. All I care about is your happiness and wellbeing. I want you to live your best life with me. I want you to feel like you can trust me and come to me whenever you need me because I am here. I will continue to be here through thick and thin. I love you. Not because you’re one of the most skilled assassins, not because you’re someone I can flaunt to others, but because you are the most beautiful, talented, intelligent, lovable person I know. I wouldn’t exchange you for the world.” 

This time, Tom’s eyes didn’t sparkle because of his sorrowful tears, they twinkled because of his love and adoration towards you and only you.

“I-I love you, too, Tommy, and I promise that I’ll come to you whenever I need you,” you placed a gentle kiss to his forehead. “You can also come to me anytime as well,” you blushed.

“Thank you, love,” he tilted his head, smiling, thumb stroking the blush on your cheeks.

“Thank you, bubs, for having my back and understanding me and putting up with me.”

Pulling on his arm, you dragged him into bed with you to cuddle. He stumbled as he focused on avoiding touching your injuries.

That night you fell asleep in each other’s arms, an unbreakable bond connecting the two of you. You understood him, and he, you.

All left of that tragic night from before had dissipated into nothingness, except for her blood-stained bodysuit.

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her hidden crystal tears

❧ synopsis: keeping a relationship under covers isn’t an easy feat. when a popular, successful jock of a college, who has many obsessive fans, dates an average student, they decide that it’s better to keep their relationship secret due to safety reasons, but when the jock starts to become more ignorant of how their s/o is feeling, what might happen to their barely stable relationship?

❧ pairing: jock!tom x fem!reader

❧ genre: angst

❧ warnings: lots of angst (?), petty girl fights technically harassment, crying, pent-up emotions, unhealthy coping

❧ a/n: this is an unedited fic, as always and I didn’t know how to end it because I had two endings in mind. I might write both endings (angst and fluff) or maybe I’ll let you guys suffer lmao I’m kidding I originally was writing a blurb about the reader hiding their emotions/hiding their tears by feigning happiness, but I ended up writing like a 2500+ word fic lmao. also if some shit seems wack, it’s because I posted this on my phone.

alternate fluff ending here: let them flow

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Swerving through the large crowd, you found yourself a seat on the filled bleachers, squeezing to fit in the front rows to spot your boyfriend. Looking about, you located your brunette partner jogging into the field arms raised in the air, pointing towards the crowd you were hidden in. He waved his hand mindlessly, eyes scanning the ocean of screaming schoolmates and “fangirls.” His gaze finally fell on you, and his face lit up, bringing a pink haze to your cheeks as he blew a kiss in your direction. The girls sat beside you screamed out, pretending to catch his kiss and sending one back. 

You and Tom decided to keep your relationship under covers, due to the overly obsessive “fangirls.” Both of you knew it would be the best option to keep you safe. If you were ever injured or threatened by one of his “fangirls,” Tom wouldn’t be able to forgive himself. 

Tom held the leather ball in the crook of his arm, with the other pushing his way through the attacking team. Calculating his success, he dove into a touchdown, scoring him and his team the winning point. 

The anticipating crowd jumped up, cheering loudly and hugging one another, whereas the visitor team’s crowd let out a loud, mutual sigh of disappointment. 

You jumped out of your seat, screaming out your lungs as you stared, wide-eyed, at your beaming boyfriend. His teammates had lifted him into the air, tossing him about. You giggled as he caught your eye, slyly winking at you. 

Lost in your own world, you almost ran down to where Tom was before you saw a hoard of girls jumping and reaching their arms out to grab at him. Frowning, you walked away from the crowd to retreat to the warmth of Tom’s car. 

You scrolled through the collection of images you and Tom had had together, warmly smiling at the memories. You let out a breathy laugh, selecting on one specific memory: Tom’s head laid on your lap, eyes shut, and lips puckered lightly as he let out even breaths. 

The car door beside you opened, shaking you out of your train of thought. 

“Hey,” your eyes were met with the blue pupils you weren’t expecting. 

“Haz?” You looked behind him, hoping to find your beloved boyfriend. 

“Tom — um — he told me to drive you back to the dorms, said he would be heading to the celebratory party,” Harrison explained, eyes shaking with concern and sympathy. 

“Oh, I understand,” your smile not quite making it to your eyes.

“He was being hoarded by his,” Haz hesitates, “fangirls. He didn’t want you to get involved.”

“It’s all good, Hazzy. No need to worry about me,” you let out a feigned laugh. 

You stepped into the warm building, waving Harrison goodbye. Another football victory, same schedule. 

You go to Tom’s game to support and cheer him on, Tom wins, you avoid him, Tom’s “fangirls” hoard him, you wait in Tom’s car, Harrison comes instead of Tom, Harrison brings you back to your dorm while Tom goes to his party, you fall asleep in your own arms: the ‘Tom’s football victory’ schedule, named and created by you. 

To say the least, you weren’t fond of the last half of the schedule. You always were left alone to celebrate Tom’s victory on your own, while Tom was doing who-knows-what at the afterparty. 

In full honesty, you were slowly growing tired of hiding your affection for one another. You didn’t know how much longer you could hold onto this style of dating. If the pair of you were going to date, you would date publicly and however you wanted, whether it meant risking your safety or not. Besides, you weren’t some helpless girl that doesn’t and can’t protect herself.

The next day, you woke up with an aching head and puffy eyes. Groaning, you looked into your mirror located at the corner of your room. You flinched at the sight of your pink, tear-stained cheeks and tangled, mop hair. Pushing yourself off the soft mattress, you stumbled into your bathroom, prepping a warm shower to start your day off fresh.

With your laptop and notebook resting in your arms, against your chest, you made your way to your next lecture. You walked sluggishly across the large campus, occasionally catching a glimpse of passing football team members. 

A specific group you walked past caught your attention. You saw the familiar brunette curls in your peripheral vision, immediately making you turn your gaze towards it. You saw his warm smile as he chuckled with his group of friends, some of his “fangirls” giggling along with the group. 

There Tom stood, laughing and joking about with his peers, radiating happiness. He was basking in the attention he received from his friends and “fans.” 

You tried to catch his eye, and you swore you did for a split second, but he only walked past you as if you weren’t even there. Not even a hidden smile or wink of acknowledgment was sent your way. 

Your walking came to a stop as you frowned at your boyfriend’s back. You wanted to shout out his name, call for his attention. You wanted to nuzzle into his chest, breathing in his scent. You wanted to look into his chocolate-pooled eyes, see the twinkle of adoration as he stared at you. Nevertheless, you couldn’t. You couldn’t do anything with Tom in public, for you were just another girl on campus, trying to get by, and Tom was the successful jock with a bright future ahead.

You walked into the large room, taking a seat, conveniently, in front of Tom. This time, you were the one to not spare him a single glance, albeit he probably wasn’t expecting or looking for one. 

You tried your best to listen and focus on the lecture, but the consistent whispers behind your back began to nag at your patience. You leaned your down further into your notes, as if it could fix the slowly kindling fire in you. Checking the clock, you saw that only five minutes of the lecture had passed, and your professor had barely said anything. 

“Five minutes? I swear it felt like half of the lecture had gone by. And the professor. I swear he had just said like tons of important information,” you muttered to yourself under your breath, catching a few students’ gazes. 

You gently pounded a fist into your temple, forcing your attention onto the lined sheets of paper on your desk. You expected to see notes, not illegible scribbles. You silently groaned, switching the sheet for a new, clean page. You took a deep breath and began jotting down the key points of the presentation that was being projected onto the large whiteboard. 

A feminine voice cleared their throat beside you, “Excuse me.”

You looked up from your work, a glare on your face as you were pulled out of your focus once again.

“Can I help you?” You asked, irritated. 

“Uh, yes, you can. You can help me by moving yourself to that seat over there,” she pointed at an empty seat across the room, “and giving this,” she placed her hand on the desk, atop you notes, “seat to me.”

You scoffed, “And why should I?”

“Oh, honey,” you cringed at the nickname, “Tommy, here,” she nodded towards Tom, “shouldn’t have to suffer by looking at your terrible hair. Like, honestly, do you even care for your looks?”

You were practically fuming in your seat, but to avoid trouble, you responded with a monotonous voice, “I’m sure “Tommy” can take care of himself. Spare us both the inconvenience, and go sit yourself on that empty seat because if you couldn’t tell, I’m occupying this spot.”

“Who do you think you are?” She shouted, hand crumpling your notes.

Furrowing your brows, you grabbed at your notes, hoping to spare them.

“Move your ugly ass before I kick you off this seat,” she threatened, pulling you by your hair.

The professor stopped talking, glaring at the pair of you. You took it as a sign to shut up and not fight back.

Fist clenching, nails creating red crescents in your palm, you stood up, pushing the girl off of you, ignoring her gasp. You grabbed your notes and laptop, turning to see if Tom would defend you, but when you saw his passive expression, you let out a quiet laugh of disappointment, carrying yourself to the back of the room. 

For the rest of the class, you stood in the back, writing your notes with blurry, tear-filled vision. Although you were still in shock due to the event that had unfolded minutes into the lecture, you wouldn’t let it falter how you were doing in school. 

As soon as you were dismissed, you bolted out of the room, heading to your safe haven on campus. 

Not many people, if any, knew about the hidden garden located within the campus’s vast park. You had only discovered it by accident when you were a freshman looking for your way around campus. 

The first thought you had when you walked in was that you were transported into a different dimension. Thinking back on it, you were naive to think that, but you were still justified. Anyone would think such a beautiful place couldn’t belong to the aggressivity and rashness of this world. The variant shades of light green and pastel pink flowers growing between the weeds of grass gave the place a heavenly feeling, followed by the mist that sparkled under the sunlight. 

You dropped yourself at the thick tree’s stump, letting your notes and laptop slip out of your grasp. You cried into your knees, pouring out all of your stresses. Your breaths were short and heaved, occasional hiccups bubbling from your lips. Your sobs slowly lulled you closer to sleep, emotional and physical fatigue catching up to you. That is, until you heard the recognizable clang of the door handle hitting against the wooden door.

“Darling,” the accented voice you longed to hear spoke up.

Quickly wiping away your tears and sniffling away any evidence of your sorrow, you stood up, “Tommy!” A feigned smile lay on your supple skin as you ran over to your boyfriend, embracing him in your arms, “What’s up?”

“Are you alright? I’m sorry I didn’t speak up for you during class. I should’ve told that girl to get her hands off you,” he stroked your hair, “She didn’t hurt you, did she?” 

Letting a pained giggle out, you shook your head, “Nope, I’m fine. You know how strong I am.”

“I really, really did want to speak up, but you know that we should keep our relationship under covers, for your sake,” he spoke gently, placing a kiss on your head.

You scowled into his shirt but kept up your cheerful facade, chirping, “Mhm, safety.”

“I knew you’d understand,” he sighed. His hold on you weakened, “I should get going, though. The group will start to wonder where I’ve gone.”

You frowned, pulling away from him.

“Don’t be like that, darling,” he cooed, “I’ll come over tonight. Don’t worry.”

You let out a sarcastic laugh, “Of course, as you always do.”

His brows furrowed at your sudden mood shift, “What are you on, darling?”

“Oh, nothing,” you chirp, hopping back to the tree, collecting your notes and laptop. “Go ahead, meet with your friends. Leave me behind like you always do,” you murmur the last half.

“Love?” His voice neared you, and you barely registered the stray tears betraying you, rolling down your peachy cheeks. 

Quickly bringing up a hand to wipe the wetness away, you keep your back facing Tom.

“Shouldn’t you be going? Don’t want your friends to worry,” you laughed, lightly. A hand placed itself on your shoulder, the sudden contact startling you. “You scared me, Tommy. You shouldn’t do that,” you giggle, hiding your true emotions, “You know how easily scared I am.”

“Darling, can you look at me?” He asked, quietly, concern lacing his tone. 

“What for, Tommy?” You inquired, nervously laughing.

“You’re acting quite… strange,” he explained.

“No need to worry about me, bubs. I’m as peachy as always,” you quipped, shoulders bouncing in emphasis.

“I’m giving you one more chance to turn, or I will do it for you,” he said, sternly. 

You stayed, unmoving, forcing Tom to turn you with his raw strength. At first, you tried to fight it, but you came to the revelation that there was no way you could overpower him.

When you met his warm, liquid eyes, you felt your own tear up, and suddenly, your shoes were an intriguing sight. 

“Baby, please look at me,” he whispered, hands rubbing up and down your arms.

You shook your head in denial, trying to keep your weakness hidden.

“It breaks me to see you this way,” he lifted your face with a finger to your chin. His thumb moved to wipe away your crystal tears.

“Then leave,” you hissed, weakly.

“W-What?” Tom stuttered at the unforeseen reply.

“I’m tired, Tom. I’m tired of hiding, of you ignoring me and me, you. How long are we going to do this? It’s so stupid, all of it,” you dropped your head again, this time of fatigue.

“B-But, you know why we’re doing this-” you cut him off.

“I know, and I can’t help but think that this was a stupid choice,” you motioned between the two of you, “You’re barely around me, and on campus, you don’t even acknowledge me. On the slim chance I do have you to myself, it can only last for so long. At this point, it feels like we’re not even together.”

“I-I don’t understand. What are you trying to say?” Fear filled his eyes as the pit in his stomach became more and more noticeable.

“I think it would be better if-” you stuttered in a breath, “if we took a break.”

“Why? Just because we’re hiding our relationship? You know why I- we chose to keep it secret,” he rushed out his words, hands gripping yours.

“Do I? Do I really? Today was display enough that even though we act like we don’t know each other, I’ll still get harassed by those “fans” of yours. Not to mention, you saw it all unravel, and what did you do? Nothing. There’s no practicality to keeping our relationship hidden because either way, some “fans” will go overboard no matter who the person. Also, I think I showed that I can defend myself from crazy people when I pushed that girl off of me today,” you spoke, ferocity and resentment spurring you on.

“I know I messed up when I didn’t help you, but I thought about our relationship-” you scoffed.

“So what? Even if we weren’t in a relationship, you should’ve helped a girl out. Especially when she’s getting harassed because of you,” you jabbed a finger into his chest.

“Tell me how to make it better. I want to make it better. Don’t end us, please,” he begged, gripping your hand tighter.

“Stop, Tom. I told you that I want to take a break. Besides, it won’t be any different to how our normal relationship is,” you laughed. Pulling your arm out of his grasp, you walked away, “Now, I won’t have to waste any tears on you anymore.”

let them flow

❧ synopsis: after the collapsing of an unhealthy relationship, each side begins to improve and thrive, one for the other, one for themselves. coincidentally, they meet at the same dreaded party that led to the breaking of their relationship. will this unfortunate series of events lead them to opportunity?

❧ pairing: jock!tom x fem!reader

❧ genre: fluff

❧ warnings: mild angst, fluffy-ish ending, exes to friends to lovers, one or two curse words, lil bit of crying, mentions of alcohol

❧ a/n: it’s finally over. thank goodness. this also is so long it can be considered a second part fuck. i know i took a whole month to write this, but i barely have free time to write nowadays and the times i do, i don’t have much inspiration. anyways this came out better than i expected so hope you guys enjoy.

in order to understand this ending, please read this first: her hidden crystal tears 

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In the first month you spent broken up with Tom, you, for once, felt at peace, with no burden of hiding relationships and denying feelings. You had forgotten how free living singly was. Within that month, you were able to reshape your life. Your grades began to improve, and your mental health had phenomenally developed for he better. Your friends had even gone out of their ways to help you with a "glow up."

Tom, on the other hand, had tried to shape him into a better person in hopes of salvaging your crumbling, if you could even call it that, relationship. He worked harder in class, and every time he saw you sitting in the lecture hall, you were surrounded by other classmates, giving him no place to fit in. He also started to distance himself from his old group of friends, looking for a better, influential group.

Tom couldn't help but feel a tug at his heart when he saw you walking with one other friend to class, laughing at something they said. He saw how your under eye-bags turned bright and how you shoulders straightened up after the breakup. It broke his heart to know the negative impact he had on you, which you never complained or spoke out about.

The brunette wanted to improve for you and himself.

How you ended up in a pair of high-waisted, black, denim shorts and a black bandeau with a sheer, cropped, long-sleeved shirt overtop you didn't know. After much begging and bothering, your friend had convinced you to go to the afterparty of the football game. You tried your best to deny their attempts but failed when they baited you with money.

This would be your first time attending a party, for you were always driven home and away from them. You couldn't deny, though, the chills that snaked down your spine at the mention of it.

Stepping into the house, you noticed how similar it looked to a fraternity. People were dancing, pushing their bodies against others and grinding their hips onto drunk partners. Other students were playing beer pong, stripping on tables, or resting on couches with a red, plastic cup in their hands. It smelled terribly of sweat and oversaturated body spray, making you gag on your breath.

"How do so many people like this?" You shouted over the pounding music and loud voices.

"How do you not?" You friend giggled, dragging you through the crowd.

Dodging and pushing people off of you, you gripped your friend's hand tightly, afraid of losing them.

"Where are we going?" You asked, eyes darting all over the place in uncertainty.

"Before we party, we've got to get drinks," they pushed the door of the kitchen open, revealing the alcohol infested space.

Scrambling over to the bulky cooler, they grabbed a can of beer, popping it open and downing it.

Flinching in disgust, you commented, "Don't you want to wash that, first?"

"What d'you mean? It looks perfectly clean to me," they shrugged, throwing you a can.

You clumsily captured the condensated drink, before putting it on the counter behind you, "I don't drink."

They groaned, "Why are you such a doormat? Come on," they nudged your shoulder, "Live a little."

You laughed, "I can "live a little" just fine with water."

"Ugh, fine. I'm guessing you also want to sit in a corner and become a hermit," they spoke, sarcastically.

"Actually," your eyes lit up, "I do."

"You," they pointed at you unsteadily, "annoy me, but since I already brought you along," their finger moved to point at an idle seat in the corner of a calmer room, "There."

You nodded, eyeing the isolated spot with glee. However, before your friend could escape into the crowd, you told them to stay safe and slipped away to occupy said seat. 

Although Tom no longer associated himself with his old group of friends, he couldn’t avoid them forever, as they were his teammates. Also, as the captain of the football team, it was practically an obligation for him to attend the after parties. 

Honestly, ever since you had broken up with Tom, he had developed a small fear of being whisked away by his fangirls and teammates, constantly thinking you were waiting in his car for him. His guilt had piled on top of his conscious, leaving him an insecure wreck.

Nevertheless, he stepped into the filled building, nodding and waving at familiar faces. One face he wasn’t expecting to see sat in the corner of the room was yours. 

He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut, he murmured to himself, “She’s not there, you idiot.”

“Tom, buddy,” a familiar voice hollered.

Through your peripheral vision, you swore that you saw his chocolate curls, but when you looked up from your phone, he had disappeared. Your eyes began to dart through the crowd of people, looking for the man you supposedly had gotten over.

Quickly realizing your mistake, you shunned yourself for willingly wrapping yourself around his little finger. You returned to scrolling through your phone, distracting yourself with the illuminated screen.

Tom watched as his teammate, and former friend, grabbed at a girl swaying her hips, pushing her ass against his friend’s crotch, into a grind. Suddenly feeling highly uncomfortable where he stood, he moved into the kitchen to grab a drink.

The room let in muffled sounds but ultimately was the quietest room in the building. The white LED lights left the room bright and easy to navigate, albeit the clusters of finished drinks and used cups littered on the counters and in the sink and overflowing out of the trashcan. 

The brunette drifted over to the fridge, locating the fresh water bottles hidden from other partygoers. 

Feeling quenched, you stood up from your seat, unwillingly. You looked for a quick and precise path to the kitchen, though you failed to do so. Deciding to extemporize it, you awkwardly squished your way through the crowd, mumbling “excuse me” and “sorry” periodically. 

Pushing the white-paint clad, wooden door open, you stumbled your way into the room, glaring at the sudden brightness engulfing your vision. 

Hearing the music and sound of people cheering grow louder, Tom turned around to see the oh-so familiar girl he had fallen infatuated with many months ago.

You stood, blinking your eyes as they tried to adapt to the sudden change of lighting. Groaning, your hands began massaging and harassing the poor skin of your eyelids. 

Your unnoticed ex, still stood in front of the fridge with a cool bottle of water in his hand, smiled at your adorable behaviour — widely contrasting your provocative outfit — watching as your cheeks puffed out in frustration. 

Feeling the haze leave your eyes, you looked ahead of you to see a silhouette emerging. Embarrassed, you blushed, looking down at your shoes. 

You felt a cool presence resting beside your cheek, and quickly looked at the item.

Water? You thought, confused.

Eyes trailing up the arm holding the bottle, your met with the sight of your former boyfriend smiling at you.

“Tom,” you breathed.

After avoiding and ignoring the boy for so many weeks, you already had forgotten how sweet he looked with a smile and soft blush grazing his cheeks. Maybe you hadn’t forgotten; you were just rarely, if ever, given the opportunity to admire it.

“Hey,” he responded, shyly rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. 

You glanced at the bottle then back to Tom, silently asking what he was doing with it.

“O-Oh, I just thought you’d want a bottle of water, since you don’t drink, but if you do now, that’s totally cool too,” he rambled nervously, like a little boy talking to his crush on the playground. 

Although you had only broken up with him a bit over a month ago, you couldn’t bring yourself to trust taking the drink from him.

“Thanks, but I can get one myself. I’m sure you wanted to drink that too.” 

You gave him an awkward, tight-lipped smile before walking past him to the fridge. Reaching into the cool container, you pulled out a frosted water bottle. 

The situation was strange. Everything felt so familiar but so different. It didn’t feel right to talk to each other like you knew how they slept in bed at night or how they loved warm cuddles on the couch as they binged shows and movies. 

“Look, Y/N,” Tom spoke up, breaking the tension with a breath, “I know that I was a jerk we were together. I also know that I neglected you. I shouldn’t have cared about what everyone else thought about our relationship. 

“Looking back, I understand why you were so frustrated with me, and you had every right to break up with me. I was a wuss that used protecting you as an excuse to keep you under covers. I reveled in the popularity and attention I got, back then.

“I’m different, now, though. I’m not saying you have to take me back. You don’t even have to consider it. All I want to do, right here, right now, is to apologize to you, so, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for all the anguish and sadness I caused. I’m sorry you had to waste your tears on me. I’m so fucking sorry, and if I have the slightest chance to even be your friend again, please let me take it.”

You felt a churning in your core, and tears prickled the corner of your eyes. You didn’t understand where your emotions arose from. You thought that you had moved on from Tom. You thought you had left him behind, left him in the shadows of your life. 

You turned around, hand reaching up to quickly wipe your tears away. That is, until a calloused hand grabbed your wrist.

“Don’t,” the accented voice choked, “It hurts me as much as it does you.”

Your words were caught in your throat. You tried to say something, anything, but nothing but sobs slipped your lips. 

Everything became a blur. You could only feel warmth enveloping you. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, darling,” Tom murmured into your hair. 

After the encounter at the party, you and Tom went on with your life as normal. 

Although, nothing that happened that night could be considered normal. You cried while he held you tightly in his arms. He apologized for his faults and asked for a second chance, as a friend or more. You forgave him and gave him the chance. 

Will you ever want to have the same relationship you had with Tom as before? No.

You and Tom are working on building a better, healthier relationship for the both of you: an open and honest relationship that won’t be hidden from anyone, especially not his “fangirls.” 

“Don’t ever hide your tears again,” Tom whispered into your hair, “Let them flow.” His pointer finger gently lifts your chin, locking his eyes with your tear-filled ones. He brings his thumb to your cheek, wiping away the shining streaks of pain, sadness, desperation. 

“Let them flow because I’ll be here. I’ll be here to wipe them away every and any time.”

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bilateral contracts

❧ synopsis: a relationship turned contract... or has the relationship always been a contract? no longer does it matter, just kiss and make break up

❧ pairing: koh!tom x fem!reader

❧ genre: semi-angst, suggestive

❧ warnings: break up, mentions of hickies, make-out session with a bit of escalation, plot twist (?)

❧ a/n: if you get it, you get it. also this came out shorter than i expected, but i liked how it turned out so i didn’t want to change anything lmao. listen to kiss and make up when reading this <3

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It started with the thundering echos in the room then ended with the inaudibly loud sound of hearts shattering. 

Now, you were resting on a cool, marble bench, breathing in the fresh, must-filled air. The chilled material of the seat ran a shiver down your seat, causing the heat from your anger to depress. 

Lately, you and Tom weren’t getting along as you used to. Constantly, you were being reminded—by Tom—that you knew what you had “signed up for” when you began dating him, ever the cliche. Had you known that you were dating via contract, you would’ve never accepted the offer; you would’ve rejected the offer whole-heartedly, as it is known, contracts can’t—and don’t—last forever.

Tom, on the other hand, went back to hoarding himself with work and planning out large events—usually for his own enjoyment. Being the king, after all, meant luxury and bliss, albeit the load of work and duty. 

Maybe the great lord feared by all was being selfish; maybe the young maiden who put her heart out on the line for said lord was insecure. It all narrowed down to a “maybe.” One thing that was certain, though, was the maiden’s love for herself.

Contracts aren’t unbreakable. They can be discussed and terminated. Besides, even if you “break” the contract now, you technically wouldn’t be the first.

With fast steps, you composed yourself, preparing for the risk you were about to take. You knew it wouldn’t be easy, but you also knew it was plausible. Your pride and self-love wouldn’t back down just by a simple glare or bark. 

Pushing the doors open, you stepped into the room, head high and shoulders wide. It felt as if the atmosphere had some confidence booster hidden in the air. Tom was already staring at you with peculiar eyes, silently asking you what you were doing.

You were tired of talking, letting useless words slip from your lips. You no longer wanted to hear any feeble “sorry’s” from either him or you.

Thus, without any words, you stomped over to his desk, pulling him by his collar and smashing your lips against his. You could feel him stiffen in your grasp, shocked at the sudden action and its roughness.

Pushing him back onto the desk, you looked him into his chocolate-brown eyes. Your hand laid flat on his chest, fingers skillfully unbuttoning his dress shirt. You attached your lips to his bare neck, sucking dark marks filled with ill-intents onto to supple skin. You could feel the brunette begin to relax under your touch, allowing you to continue. 

His hands touched you in such a familiar yet foreign way, touching you like he’s touched nobody. The soft pads of his fingertips trailed, bruised, and gripped onto every centimeter of your perfect body as if he’s been starved of touch for decades.

It was as if both of you could see and feel what was coming.

Pulling away, you slipped your clothes back on, leaving Tom tousled where he rest. A haze in his eyes told you that he was out of his body, floating in the clouds. Using his dazed moment to your advantage, you declared, “I’m breaking up with you.”

Before he could collect himself to think straight, you’ve already escorted yourself out of the room, leaving his door wide open to give him a show of you with your bags and luggage—walking away with a light sway of your hips—your figure dissolving into nothingness as you gained more distance. 

Tom didn’t chase after you like a dog on a leash. He let you leave without reluctance or doubt. After all, why would he? Everything had worked out in his favor.

The contract is now terminated ended.

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Body Pillow | T.H.

Summary: In which you try to make your time spent away from Tom a little easier but your plan works a little too well for his liking.

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Word Count: 1,300

Author’s Note: hello this is my first time writing like this so pls be gentle!

Long distance was hard.

Despite practically sharing an apartment, you sometimes went weeks, even months, without seeing your boyfriend while he was away filming. You did your best to fill the space–FaceTiming twice a week, phone calls every night, spontaneous weekend visits–but you had yet to find the cure to an empty bed.

It was always hard, putting on a brave face while dropping him off at JFK.

“I’ll be home before you know it darling,” he promised every time, pressing a kiss to your temple and wrapping his arms around you tightly. “You won’t even have time to miss me.”

Things took a turn for the worst when he left to shoot Far From Home. Not only were you not allowed on set due to confidentiality issues–Tom compared it to being quarantined–but he didn't get a break until halfway through filming, meaning you wouldn’t see each other for four months; the longest you’d ever been apart.

At first, you took in stride. You weren’t going to be one of those girls, the kind that fell apart the moment your boyfriend wasn’t around. 

“Do you miss me yet?” he’d ask, his pixilated face smiling softly at you. 

Your schedules were off now that he was in Europe, but you had a small window between you getting home from work and his bedtime. 

You’d scoff, deflecting the question. “I’ll tell you what I don’t miss, taking cold showers because you used up all the hot water.”  

Unfortunately, after downing an entire bottle of Pinot Grigio at your weekly wine night at your best friend’s place, you realized, much to your friend’s amusement, that you were, in fact, one of those girls. 

You tried it all. From sleeping on his side, to sleeping in the middle, you even spent nights on the couch in front of the TV to avoid the bedroom all together; nothing seemed to ease the dull ache in your chest from missing Tom.  

The bed felt too big, too cold without him.

You didn’t even have Tess to keep you company. Tom had left her with his brother Sam back in London, insisting that he didn’t want to burden you with her for the next several months. 

You spent the nights eating Chinese takeout on the couch, because Tom usually cooked, making a significant dent in your Netflix watch list. 

You got the idea while roaming the aisles of the nearest Target. Tessa had accidentally destroyed one of your throw pillows last time she was at your place (Tom’s fault, of course, not hers) and you’d been meaning to find a replacement. You turned down the wrong aisle, though, stumbling upon the body pillows instead.

You didn’t solve your throw pillow dilemma that day, but you did find a solution to your empty bed syndrome.

Finally, you were sleeping through the night again. It wasn’t the same as cuddling him–definitely not as fun, but with much less kicking involved–but after a few weeks, it became the only way you could fall asleep. 

You never mentioned it to Tom, a little embarrassed to admit just how much you missed him.

At first, Tom found it adorable.

“I think it’s cute,” he teased when he first got home. He held the pillow up so that they were side by side. “You know, I can kind of see the resemblance.”

You’d just roll your eyes, “Shut up.”

“Is it a boy or a girl?”

“Don’t be an idiot.”

“Maybe we could buy it a Spider-Man costume, mask and all. Then you really wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.”

“I’m going to smack you with it.”

One night the two of you were in bed. Tom was scheduled to fly back out to Atlanta at the end of the week so you were making the most of your time together, which really just meant having enough sex to tide you over the three months until he was home for good.

“I missed this,” you mumbled against his lips.

“I missed you,” he’d mumble back.

Tom’s mouth trailed deliciously hot kisses down your neck, his fingers tugging down the strap of your tank top to pepper kisses over your shoulder before reaching down and pulling it off in one swift movement. 

You cupped his face and pulled his lips back to yours, kissing him slowly, fingers tangled in his hair, committing every move to memory. Both of you wanted to preserve this moment as best as you could.

You broke apart, squealing when Tom shifted with lightning speed, rolling on top of you. He was peering down at you, his eyes mischievously bright, grinning smugly.

“Can your pillow do this?” he winked, before disappearing under the covers.

“You know, you are so annoy–oh,” your eyes fluttered shut. “No, it can’t.”

It wasn’t until he was back home from filming that he started to notice how much of a problem it had actually become. He knew you’d grown attached to it, sure, but he didn’t expect you to keep cuddling the damn thing while he was in bed with you.

He would make up in the middle of the night to find that the stupid pillow was between you, your arms clutching it for dear life. Several times he tried to slide it out from under you, but you would frown in your sleep.

Once, he accidentally woke you up.

“What’re you doing?” you muttered groggily, pulling the pillow closer.

He just sighed and collapsed back into bed, defeated. “Sorry love, just getting comfortable.”

You were cleaning the apartment one afternoon and you found your pillow folded neatly on the top shelf of the storage closet. When you confronted Tom about it he just shrugged, insisting that he had no idea how it got there.

“Maybe it was the cleaning lady,” he said casually, not even bothering to look up from the magazine he was reading. 

You crossed your arms, giving him a flat look he couldn’t see. “I don’t have a cleaning lady.”

“We should get you a cleaning lady.” 

Tom would lay awake at night, plotting ways to get rid of it while making it look like an accident. He’d never want to hurt your feelings, but he missed his girlfriend.

You finally caught on to what was happening when you caught him trying to feed it to a very uninterested Tessa, probably hoping it would suffer the same fate as your throw.

“You’re jealous.”

Tom scoffed. “Don’t be daft.”

His too-quick reply only confirmed your suspicions. “Oh my God, you are!”

“I am not jealous!” he argued defensively. “There’s nothing to be jealous of.”

You poked his side affectionately. “Are you worried I love it more than I love you?”

He glared at you. “Don’t even joke.”

One night he’d had enough. You were both sitting in bed, him scrolling through Twitter, you reading a book, your pillow between you. He looked between you and the pillow once before setting his phone down and snatching it off the bed.

You glanced up from your book, confused. “What’s going on?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he tucked the pillow under his arm and walked out the bedroom door towards the kitchen. You were so stunned you didn’t even get out of bed to follow him.

It sounded like he was rifling through one of the cabinets followed by the unmistakable sound of a garbage bag being shaken out. You then heard the front door open and close, the deadbolt sliding back into place.

Seconds later, Tom walked back into your room empty-handed.

You raised an eyebrow at him and asked, “Are you sure you weren’t jealous?”

“Absolutely positive,” he said, crawling back into bed.

You watched him as he made his way to your side on his hands and knees, his hair falling into his eyes. He reached over and plucked your book out of your hands, tossing it over his shoulder. You made a mental note to reprimand him about it later.

You giggled as he pulled you to him, your head finding his chest and your arms automatically winding around his middle.

He hummed happily, “Much better.”

“What about next time you leave?” you asked, nuzzling your face into his neck.

Nothing could replace this feeling, you thought.  

“I’ll buy you a new one,” he murmured into your hair. 

You closed your eyes, the warmth of his body pressed up to yours lulling you to sleep. You shook your head drowsily. 

“I don’t need a new one,” you yawned. “I just need you to promise to always come back.”

“I swear.” 

Hello!! I am trying to find a Peter Parker fic if you guys could help me!!

It was about the reader kissing him because she was dared but she actually likes him but he doesn’t kiss back (because he was shocked) but later he goes to the reader and explain and they kiss.

please help me I am dying to read it again 😣

Hello! Here I am once again looking for a fic 😊 if you guys could help me, It’s about reader having a crush on Tom (tom is Cupid and reader is a worker or some like that) and she thinks he doesn’t like her because he always walks away and things like that but one day they have to work together and they talk and he asks her if she already met the love of her life and when she asks him he says I have or I know I have something like that. I’m sorry I know I don’t make sense but if this sounds familiar to anyone please help me 🙂❤️❤️

Hello! Here I am once again looking for a fic 😊 if you guys could help me, It’s about reader having a crush on Tom (tom is Cupid and reader is a worker or some like that) and she thinks he doesn’t like her because he always walks away and things like that but one day they have to work together and they talk and he asks her if she already met the love of her life and when she asks him he says I have or I know I have something like that. I’m sorry I know I don’t make sense but if this sounds familiar to anyone please help me 🙂❤️❤️

THIS IS EASILY ON MY TOP THREE OF FICS AND I HAVE READ A LOT!!! I’m thinking maybe doing a recommendation post.

Rules

pairing; tom holland x reader (college au)

words: ~17k (another long one oooops)

Tom’s got a reputation– one that you want to steer away from.  When that doesn’t go as planned, you put rules in place.  how long do those last?

warnings: swearing, crude humor, a lil bit of blood, smut, 18+ please!!, injuries, drinking, drunken shenanigans, tipsy sex 

a/n: I had a good time writing this one!!  Enjoyyy!!

It’s a Friday night like any other.  You’ve finished your classes (which included two quizzes) and done a little homework so you can sleep in tomorrow, and now that it’s almost ten, you’re draped over your friend Lily’s bed, watching her braid Meg’s hair into two tight rows.

Seguir leyendo

Hey it’s been a while but I’m looking for a fic if someone could help me actually two:

1. The first one is about Tom and reader being exes but still sleep together and once Tom has to leave for filming he tells her that they should see other people, when he comes back he says something like “I thought that’s what you wanted” or something like that.

2. Is about reader staying with the boys on quarantine and the boys believe (from rumors) that reader is only around them for fame so they star to push her aside, and after the marvel quiz Tom does he goes looking for her and she tells him how she is feeling

If you could help me I would love you eternally 💕

I have a new story

I already have a chapter done and currently working on chapter two and was wondering if anyone would be interested. also should Tom Holland play a character???? lol let me know 

fine line | tom holland [ceo!au]

Summary: heavily influenced by the movie "the proposal"

Faced with deportation to his native United Kingdom, the playboy CEO Holland's Tech Point located in the Big Apple, Tom Holland, tells the world that he's engaged to marry Y/N Y/L/N, his hapless assistant. Y//N reluctantly agrees but has a few propositions of her own, including flying across the country for him to meet her eccentric family.

With a immigration agent hot on their trials and watching their every move, Tom and Y/N must stick to their plan despite numerous bumps in the road.

pairing: ceo!tomholland x secretary!reader

warnings: will be posted with each chapter, almost like a crack fic, tom is a bit of an asshole sometimes, SMUT, steamy, super sweet

I. lights up

II. treat people with kindness

III. canyon moon

IV. she

V. watermelon sugar (m)

VI. cherry (m)

VII. adore you

VIII. sunflower vol 6 (m)

IX. falling

X. to be so lonely

XI. fine line (m)

XII. golden