Tom Holland & Peter Parker Imagines & Preferences (book 2)

KIngS and QUeeNS (part 8)

When morning comes and the sun rises from her peaceful slumber, she waves to the moon as she passes him. Her golden rays shining for the world to see, light seeping through the misty windows of the cottage, and Y/N wakes.

She shifts in the sheets, brows furrowed as she rubs the sleep from her slightly swollen eyes. She reaches a hand over the bed, not expecting it to fall right into the crisp sheets, and she sits up; frowns much deeper.

The memories of the night before slowly wake her mind, a light blush rising from her neck to her cheeks and she purses her lips to refrain an ever-growing smile. Y/N nibbles on her bottom lip as she takes in the small expanse of the room.

Her knickers and pajama pants are discarded on the floor, and the thought of sleeping bare beneath the covers with the King of all Mobsters is enough to send shivers down her spine.

And then it hits her again... she's alone.

Y/N struggles out of the bed, grabbing her checkered pants and slipping them up to her legs, desperately trying to ignore that dull ache between her thighs, and the way her brain screams at her for being so stupid.

Before she can even begin to lecture herself or cry, a soft clanging and sharp hiss sound from the kitchen of the cottage, thumping footsteps racing toward the bedroom as she sits up in the bed, sheets pooling in her lap.

A brown head of messy curls peers through the doorway, eyes squinted in a grimace. Y/N frowns, watching as Tom takes a step into the room, saucepan in one hand and a dishcloth in the other.

"I didn't wake you, did I?" he asks softly, that same grimace still on his lips and she supposes it's due to his worry of waking her.

She shakes her head and stifles a laugh. "No," she barely manages to croak out, voice hoarse and eyes still slightly stinging from the sleep she's been consumed in.

Tom grins at her sleepy state, the way her hair sticks up in every which direction and how her lips are just that little bit more swollen in the early light of the morning.

He disappears again and Y/N takes a deep breath, ready to crawl out of bed and try to prepare herself for the day cooped up in the little cottage, when he comes bolting back into the bedroom, pouncing on her already weak figure and she falls back into the sheets with a laugh.

Tom tries not to press his entire body on her, but the slightly crushing feeling he gives oddly seems to ease her, somehow makes it a little easier to breathe, when surely, it should do the complete opposite.

He buries his face into the crook of her neck, chapped lips tickling the warm expanse of her neck and she giggles out a muffled laugh, fingers tangled in his curls and he groans. "You're so warm," his words are muffled but she can just about make out what he said.

Y/N stifles a laugh. "'Cause I'm in bed... why did you get up?" she curiously asks, absentmindedly frowning when the weight of his body on hers eases and he sits back beside her, pulling her beneath the covers with him and she squeals a little when his warm, skilled hands reaches for her bare thigh.

"Was gonna make you breakfast but you look more delicious than the bacon," Tom teases, brows wiggling and she blushes profusely, palms flat against his toned abs through his shirt and she bites her lip to muffle a moan the best she can.

Tom grins, knowing the effect he has on her and sneakily, he trails the tips of his fingers up her inner thigh, breath hot on her lips and he can feel the goosebumps break out upon her smooth skin.

Her breathing hitches, eyes hooded with arousal and Tom teasingly presses an open-mouthed kiss to her bottom lip, swiping his warm tongue against it before his hand rounds her thigh and grabs a handful of her ass.