Tom Holland & Peter Parker Imagines

By the way, I sitll hate you | T.H

Summary: You and Tom don't like each other at all and everyone knows, so why not make things more complicated by sleeping together not once.... but whenever you can get within range? You find out why that's a bad idea, someone always gets feelings.

Words: 3715

Warnings: No actual smut but NSFW themes and references, drinking and I know some of you hate this but... a stubborn reader.

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He lay beside you with reddened cheeks and hair in brown tangles, scattered across his sweaty forehead. Tom held a certain post-sex glow that made you swoon– not that you'd ever tell him that. Outloud, he was just a casual fuck. An easy release.

You had recently moved from supply cupboards and pub bathrooms to your beds, sometimes his and sometimes yours always behind the backs of the media, cast mates and friends. Sure, it was dirty– but it was even dirtier when it was your little secret.

But before all of this... before the first time that had you hooked, addicted, you shoved each other (never hard enough to make the other fall) when they were holding a coffee or lunch and your hard glares could be spotted from across the room. The tension could be felt all over set but maybe it wasn't the kind of tension everyone else had suspected.

Because in front of the camera and fans smiling faces, you adored each other. In front of mates and towards each other? Absolute frustration.

That's all it had been since the start of filming, all up to that party to celebrate yet the end of another film. It was a small celebration, only the closest cast and crew only earning invitations. You happened to be a part of that. You all shared booze, pizza and laughs. Harrison shared the most embarrassing set stories making Toms' cheeks turn almost as red as they were now and the director to nearly fall back in his seat.

You had to put on a front for the media because after all, you were the personal assistant to the director. You did coffee runs and made sure everyone was on time and the place wasn't collapsing around everyone. Behind closed doors, you and Tom could hate each other as much as you wanted.

You didn't know what it was exactly about the actor that made you despise him first thing, and him you. You just didn't seem to click. Your personalities clashed and you picked up on each of his flaws and decided you couldn't stand him. He decided the same.

You had been the last two there, everyone else had cleared off only minutes ago. You were slightly tipsy and waiting for a cab, Tom had claimed to be doing the same. You both expressed how stressed you were, tired and needing some kind of release after the entirety of creating the film.

Soon you found yourself on his lap, grinding yourself down on his clothed thigh and trying to catch even a seconds worth of air as he sucked blue and purple marks down the side of your neck. You were a free canvas and he took advantage of every inch. Soon you were painted.

Tom found himself leaving small, fingerprint sized bruises on your hips and spewing more loved up nicknames then he knew possible and you found yourself being able to deal with the boy that night. But when you finally got off... clambering back to your feet and throwing your dress shirt over your head you felt a twinge of remorse.

For two people that hadn't seemed to get along until that day, you got along well that night.

"It'll never happen again, it can't. This is just a one-time thing." You had told him.

But one night wasn't enough and you soon found yourself slipping into his lap time and time again, opening your messages to find his contact already open or marching into his front door at any hour of the day. He was always waiting, always ready.