Tom Holland One-Shots

Cockblocks | [F]

A/N: The thought hasn't left my brain so might as well write it asdfghjkl. Wrote this fairly quick so bare with me ahah. Hope you guys enjoy!

Pairing: Tom Holland x Fem!Reader

Summary: The moment gets interrupted by Tom's precious chickens.

Warnings: steamy make out sesh(?) and the usual typos.

Word Count: 1.4k+

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It's fun living with the lads, never a dull moment when they're around and you love it. You always find yourself laughing through every stupid moment, and then feel all calm and content whenever you're chilling outside the back garden to do whatever as pleased.

They always find something to do for pure enjoyment, especially with the whole quarantine in place. And you were more than glad that they can take away the boredom before anyone losses their mind.

However, there is a slight downside to it. You and Tom don't get a much needed alone time with each other as often as you'd like.

It was quite exciting at first, just teasing the other to see who had the most control, who would be able to resist longer, making it out to be this little game.

Tom would purposely have a work out in the garden under the bright London sun, just so you could see. See the way his muscles flex with each movement, see the sweat coating his skin that'd make him glow under the morning rays.

It was too much of a delightful yet painful sight, one that'd had you left all fired up and oh what a torture it was. But despite how hard it is to watch him do push-ups and hip thrusts, you could never get up and leave, because when you do, then he wins. A person as competitive as you are, you just can't let him easily have it.

You'd get right back at him soon after though. Your tactic was subtle, doing the little things that would always make him squirm.

When he's in the kitchen making something, you always come up behind him, sneaking in a few kisses below his ear, that certain spot that'd make him let out a shaky breath. Your nimble fingers would caress his back, fingernails grazing his skin through his shirt teasingly. The action would remind him how you had that same spot all marked up with red and long stripes not long ago, the simple thought making him feel overactive that his eyes would be following your every move the next.

You'd sneak a hand in his pocket sometimes, the looser the fabric the better as you lightly scratch on his thigh, head leaning on his arm sweetly to feign innocence, but Tom knows the gesture is as far from innocent as it can be. Even more so when you dig your hand dipper, just to tickle him between his legs, and when you feel him slowly grow, then you retract your hand completely and walk away.

It builds up gradually, one tease after the other and the next thing you know Tom is looking at you with a pout, silently begging for you to stop because he desperately wants more but knows he can't have his way. Well, both of you can't, at least not yet anyway with a full and crowded house.

But, regardless of how exciting it may be, how fun it is to play your little game, the frustration never fails to come soon after, the emotion magnified with each tease, just growing, boiling until one decides to burst.

So, when a tiny slither of privacy comes, even just the littlest window of opportunity, you two would be jumping on each other's skin in a snap, too hungry to even care of where you are.

That's exactly what happened when the boys decided to go out for some fresh air, a walk on the hills with Tessa in tow. You and Tom opted to stay behind, throwing in a "we're tired" excuse when you and him both know what would happen the minute the whole house is left all to yourselves.

The moment you heard the door click shut, Tom was onto you in a split second.

His lips capturing yours in a searing, hungry kiss, hands gripping hard on your waist as he pushes you back down the closest place he could fuck you on, the place that you're already sat in: the couch.

"Finally." Tom groaned against your lips. Both of you were in a rush, touches feverish to waste no time given the fact that you genuinely don't have much.

Tom situated himself between your legs as you wrap them around his slim waist, his lips traveling down to explore your exposed neck, a soft sigh coming out of you the moment he cherished your skin with open-mouth kisses, making sure to suck on your sweet spots for good measure.

"Tom." You gasped at the feeling of his cold hands sneaking under your—his—hoodie to cup a breast in each, giving them light squeezes just to spur you on, rolling your hard nub between his long fingers as he continues his assault on your neck.

Your hands found its place on his broad shoulders to grip on them for support as Tom grinded his hips onto you with a low growl, hard length grazing your clothed heat with each hump, pressing on you in a way that only left you wanting more, needing more.

But just as Tom's hand went to push his sweatpants down — ready to finally have you after too much teasing — both of you heard this flapping sound, a loud squawk ringing in your ears, and the next you knew a whole live chicken was standing on his back.

Never have you seen Tom get up and off you so quickly, ever in your life, his sudden movement and loud scream surprising the chickens that managed to get inside the house without notice.

All you could do was laugh in your place on the couch as the chickens run around the living space, causing absolute havoc with Tom on their tails, curse after curse escaping his lips each time they slip out of his grasps, each time they knock something over with a flap of their wings.

"Quit laughing and help me will you darling?" Tom turned to you with an exasperated look on his face, bottom lip all jutted out making you giggle as you slowly got off the couch to help your man out of his demise.

"Chestnut come here sweetheart." You cooed, squatting down on the ground for Chestnut to come to you without hassle, scooping her in your arms before standing back up to your full height, only to see Tom staring at you with a dumbfounded expression coating his features.

"See, that's unfair." Tom whined like a child, a tiny bead of sweat forming on his brows as he held Predator close to his heaving chest, feeling downright played how easily you got them while he had to run around the space for a little longer.

"What? Did you know that when you chase something they tend to run away?" You joked, Tom scoffing in response but thankful for your help nonetheless.

"Where's Ranger?" You asked as you looked around the living room to see where the other has gone. "Already outside." With that, both of you went out the garden to return the chickens back where they escaped from.

"Fucking cockblocks" Tom grumbled by your side, definitely very frustrated at the interruption that had happened. You were slightly irritated too, having that it was such a close call, but you can manage. Plenty of opportunities down the line after all.

"Their chickens Tom." You teased with a giggle, making Tom roll his eyes at you playfully. "Oh you know what I meant."

Both of you placed the chickens back in their house all safe and sound. Tom eyes met yours with a certain glint coating them, looking at you expectantly because maybe you still had a bit of time left. But as soon as you closed the door to their pen, a voice bellowed inside the house.

"We're home!" Sing-songs Harrison, announcing his and the boy's arrival.

You let out a hearty laugh at Tom's groan of utter disapproval, his head thrown back as if to yell at the sky, hands taking shape of claws and shaking it in the air to magnify his frustration.

You rubbed his back soothingly, comfortingly with a giggle as you made your way back towards the house. Tom wrapped an arm over your shoulder as he pulled you closer to his side, pressing his lips against your forehead with a sigh.

"Let's stay at your place for the weekend please."

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