#yeeeeeeet

Chapters: 7/? Fandom: Fallout 4, Fallout (Video Games) Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Robert Joseph MacCready/Female Sole Survivor, Robert Joseph MacCready/Sole Survivor, Robert Joseph MacCready & Female Sole Survivor Characters: Robert Joseph MacCready, Female Sole Survivor, Natasha Sokolova, Nat Sokolova, Nick Valentine, Piper Wright, John Hancock (Fallout), Deacon (Fallout), Preston Garvey, Paladin Danse (Fallout), Arthur Maxson, Desdemona (Fallout), Glory (Fallout), Scribe Haylen (Fallout), Knight Rhys (Fallout), Whitechapel Charlie Additional Tags: Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Hurt/Comfort, Major Character Injury, Angst, Fluff, Humor, Eventual Smut, Canon Divergence, Bittersweet Ending, Angst with a Happy Ending, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism Summary:

“Six months, huh? How much fast talking did you do to get here?” “Enough to keep me alive.”

“Really? Cause you don’t act like that’s your goal half the time. Hell, you throw yourself at everything like you’re jumping off a cliff.”

Sole survivor Natasha Sokolova is burning through friends faster than she can make them. Robert Joseph MacCready needs all the caps he can get. Problem is, the smooth-talking woman with a pistol and a job offer turns out to be more trouble than he’s counting on. They’re a match made in hell, but their little partnership might be the only thing that can see them through it.

Chapter 7: Trouble Comes Knocking, is now posted!

→ upside down | t.h.

author’s note — hey ya, thanks for requesting. i hope you like it! requests are open again for tom, peter & shawn, btw. hit the askbox.

pairing: tom holland x reader

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warnings — fluff, kissing and cursing.

“Why me?” 

“Because you’re Spider–Man, dumbass,” Tom hears Y/N saying with a roll in his eyes, arms crossed and eyebrows lifting up. “You’ve done this before, I don’t get the outrage of everything.”

Leaning against the counter, Tom keeps his arms crossed and face unsuccessfully shut — his lips are pressed together in a thin line to hold back his nervous laughter, his cheeks are contracting as he bites the inside of them and his leg can’t stop bouncing. His hair is damp from the shower he took a few minutes ago, some drops traveling down his shoulders and some others falling directly onto his gray sweatpants, painting darker spots on the cotton fabric. It’s almost impossible to take him seriously when he’s looking like a kid whose candy just got stolen, even more with his bare chest flushing and matching his rosy face.

“Let’s just not use my role as a proof against me, ‘kay?” Tom untangles his arms to show his palms in defense, crossing his bouncy leg in front of the other. “First because it’s hella unfair, secondly: it would be better if you get upside down rather than me, love.” 

“Why me?”

“Because that way your hair would stay outta my way,” He explains, coming closer with a boyish grin and Y/N widens her eyes, mouth parting slightly in surprise. “Do you know how many times I chewed your hair while we were kissing?”

“That was one time!” She squeaks out. “When we had that date on the beach and the wind was insane, you cannot blame me for that.”

Tom only chuckles out loud, close enough to wrap one arm around her waist while his free hand tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear, just in case. When he feels her melting into his touch, he holds her middle with both arms and lifts her body up, and she envolves his waist with her legs. Her hands cup his face, still staring at him kind of annoyed, but her lips catch his in anyways. Tom shuts his eyes close, breathing deeply through his nose and she does the same, both pair of lips getting lost into one another to a point where they can barely disguise which pair is actually theirs or not. The pressure is just on point, low and soft smack sounds flying around the kitchen as Tom blindly searches for the top of the counter again.

“Mm–mm–mm,” She mutters in denial, not breaking the kiss but tapping the cold marble under her hands, noticing that Tom is placing her frame onto it. Y/N tries to break free from his hold and step away, but his muscular arms are stronger as they keep her in place effortlessly. Realising what he’s doing, she mumbles against his mouth, “F–ckin’ cheater.” 

The british boy laughs against her lips, feeling the sharp slap of her hand against his bare shoulder and he would be lying if he said it didn’t burn. 

“Gotta think fast, darlin’,” He inches backwards, standing just a few centimeters away from her face. Blinking sarcastically, Tom steals a loud peck from her mouth and gently bites her cheek quickly, laying a soft slap on the side of her ass in return to the shoulder thing that happened seconds ago. “Now turn around and lie down, Miss Parker, I want my kiss.” 

“You little piece of sh—”

“No, babe, that’s not how it starts,” Tom fakes disappointment, turning her body around himself — carefully, he supports both her legs on top of his forearm and holds the small of her back. Like this, he starts spinning her frame around. “I say ‘you are amazing’, right?” When Y/N has her back turned to him, he smiles even wider, having the most fun of the entire day because she’s not moving an inch to collaborate with his plan. “Then you say ‘some people don’t think so’ and then I’m gonna insist, ‘but you are’, ‘kay?” His voice tone is cocky, to a point where Y/N doesn’t need to look back to know that he’s explaining through the biggest smile in the world, splattered all over his annoyingly–cute little face. 

“How long have you been planning this?” Y/N asks, unconsciously leaning her back down on the cold marble and hissing lowly due to the sensation, shifting her head closer to the edge of the counter. 

“To be honest? I have no idea either.”

It doesn’t take long until Y/N has her hair cascading down the edge of the counter, hands grabbing the sides of the white marble for dear life and stomach getting those butterflies, lungs working heavily to keep her calm. Tom kneels down on the kitchen floor, pearl–white smile so full of joy it won’t disappear for days, he thinks. When she opens her eyes, there he is: glancing at her so enchantingly that his puppy–brown eyes are shining brighter than ever, the back of his fingers caressing her face lovingly and his thumbs coming to trace her jawline unhurriedly.

“Done, dork,” She says lowly. “My hair is out of my face.” 

“Do I get to say thank you this time?” Closing the space between them, Tom asks with the softest smirk. 

“Oh, Tom,” Y/N recognises the film line and laughs, shaking her head weakly to avoid getting dizzier. “Just go for it already, this is not my best angle.” 

After they laugh together, it’s like a calmy atmosphere reaches down onto them, making their hearts beat in a weirdly–comfortable nervousness. They don’t know why this suddenly became so serious, but in Tom’s mind it always had to happen perfectly. So, when they close their eyes simultaneously, he brushes his pink lips against hers — once, twice, threatening but never ending the torture. It’s a new way to feel it, and he wants it all. He wants the craving, the desire, the hunger; all the sensations and feelings crashing together and building an expectation that could only be undone with the kiss he wanted for so long. His right hand grazes her cheek and his left hand supports her shoulder, silently assuring her that she’s safe with him, nothing and no harm is ever gonna happen to her as long as he’s here — either if it’s only a ‘stupid’ upside down kiss thing. 

When Tom feels that she’s drunken in as much as he is, he decides to catch her bottom lip in between his and kiss her so devotedly that he can feel the love running back and forth through his nerves intensely. So far, there’s nothing different but when they both slip their tongues to meet each other, the couple frown together. It’s odd, but they go on in anyways. It almost seem like they don’t know how to kiss, like they’re kissing for the first time just like teenagers. Insisting, Tom only uses the tip of his tongue to taste hers timidly, trying to decide what the actual fuck he’s gonna do. With the two spurred on to find ways to make it happen, things start to slowly fit together as how it’s supposed to be since the very beginning. He switches down to grab her upper lip while she gives attention to his lower one, pressing smooches before using their tongues again.

When they do so, it feels better.

It’s head—spinning slow, a touch so good and so new that it shots a wave of excitement down their bodies. Heartbeats faster makes the kiss’ pace fasten too, tongues never getting enough of each other in a taste that feels so heavenly good, too good to be true. Tom kisses Y/N fiercely, as if he could explain with a kiss how much of a dream it is: to finally do the Spider–Man kiss and, more than that, to do it with the girl of his dreams. 

They break the kiss for air, but not shifting away that much. Tom never stopped rubbing his thumb along her skin and he doesn’t feel like doing it so soon. 

“That was—”

“Wow.” 

He chuckles at her reaction, can’t help but steal two kisses in a row. 

“Yeah, love,” He agrees, whispering so deep in passion. “That was wow.” 

“Could you do something for me, though?” 

“Anything, Peter Parker.” He jokes. 

Y/N breathes deeply, grimacing as her hands try to find a safe way to get up again. 

“Get me outta here,” She says through gritted teeth, feeling her body sliding towards the end of the counter. “For the love of Mary Jane.”