I bet I would

Pairing: Tom Holland x Fem!Reader

Warnings: making out session, they're drunk, implied smut, suggestive, 18+, angsty, don't do this kids, language.

You're not someone who drinks. Actually, you don't drink at all, but today you just graduated from college, so your best friend thought that it was cool to take you out for a drink at your favourite pub in London. Well, turns out that you drank too many drinks and now you're extremely drunk. And horny. Because well, there's this guy with a pair of chocolate eyes that keeps staring at you, glancing at your moves when some good song comes on shuffle and he's just insanely hot. Maybe you winked at him once or twice, but nothing too serious. Except that now you really have to go to the bartender because your friend needs a drink, so you have to approach him and his blonde friend, that are drinking at the counter. So you make sure you don't stumble on your heels and go there with a smile.

"A Cosmo, please."

You see that his friend quickly disappears, while he caresses the empty glass in his hands. Oh, you wish his hands were somewhere else, now.

"I thought you had different taste," he says.

"What?"

"You drank other drinks. Didn't they satisfy you?"

"Oh no, this is for my friend," you reply, shyly. He nods. It seems that the conversation is over, but you still want to talk to him so you decide that's the right moment to drop all the inhibitions and start acting confident. "You know, my taste in men is like my taste in drinks: I like them a bit spicy," you say and he looks at you with a half smile, like he's trying to stop laughing. He would look cute, if it wasn't that you just want to touch his biceps, that flex too much under the black shirt. He seems a book's character: too good to be real.

"Yeah? Well, I can handle it. Do you want something?"

And then, you say something that's not completely like yourself, at all, but that makes him extremely turned on.

"Why not? After all," you begin to say, lowering your voice to his ear, so he can hear you between the noise, "I'm still thirsty."

The next thing you know is that you're making out with the mystery guy in the bathroom, your bottom on the bathroom sink and his knee between your legs. His hands are finally everywhere over your body, ripping off your dress and wandering on your back. His lips are red and swollen like Hell's fire. Your fingers are messing with his hair, but he doesn't seem to care. Well, it wouldn't make sense anyway, since his fingertips are now running down your thighs like they were a highway. This is not something you would do. You're a completely different person. You wouldn't make out with a stranger in a public bathroom. Something is telling you to let go, to let him free, to run away from here and never look back, but the only thing that you let go is a moan.

"God, you're driving insane, darling," he says and something in you break. Maybe it's your conscience or the knot in your stomach, but it just makes you feel good.

"You wouldn't like me out of here," you say, while his fingertips just draw some circles on your inner thighs, but he doesn't go further.

He looks at you in your eyes and your heart skips a beat. He seems too much real now, with the crinkles at the corners of his eyes or your lipstick on his cheek.

"I bet I would."

And somehow, the look in his eyes makes you believe him. That's all it takes for you to allow him to go further.

-

Today, your legs hurt. And yes, you remember what happened, but no, you didn't ask him his name. He's just the "mystery guy" that made you see the stars. He also felt like poetry under your touch. It's a strange feeling, maybe too romantic, but that's how he felt to you. Anyway, now you're drinking some tea in your apartment, trying not to think about the soreness of your legs. Your best friend, Kylie, just knocked at the door.

"Hi," she says, winking at you. "How are you?"

"My legs still hurt."

"I bet! That guy looked incredibly hot. I can't believe that you really did that with him".

"I don't know what happened. He just... hit the right keys," you say and Kylie laughs.

"I can only imagine!"

"Oh, come on, I didn't mean like... Kylie?" You ask, staring at her phone. She's looking at the Instagram Stories of a guy that is showing shyly some hickies on his neck, while his friend is mocking him because of that. "Who's that?"

"Who? This guy? Tom Holland, he's an actor. Didn't you watch the Marvel movies?"

Your mouth is dry. You could faint right here and no one could prevent that.

"You didn't recognize him yesterday?"

"What? Was Tom at the pub?" She asks, excited. "I was too drunk to notice, but how did you...?"

"That's him! Tom! He's the mystery guy!" You basically scream.

Your phone starts to ring. A notification pops up on your screen.

From: Mystery guy

Hey! Can we meet again? I would like to get to know you. I bet that I would like you ;)

Oh, no. You're really screwed right now.