I still hate you part 2 || Tom Holland
The music was still pounding, but it didn’t matter anymore.
Not when Rudy was suddenly there—storming through the crowd, his face dark with anger.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he snapped, grabbing Harrison’s shoulder and shoving him back slightly. “That’s my girl. You’re supposed to be my boy.”
Harrison didn’t even flinch.
“I’m not your boy,” he said calmly. “And maybe if you treated her right, this wouldn’t be a problem.”
Rudy stepped closer, chest to chest now. “Say that again.”
“Back off,” Harrison replied, his tone still steady—but firmer now.
You felt the tension spike instantly.
“Stop,” you said, stepping between them. “Both of you—just stop.”
But Rudy wasn’t listening.
His hand shot out, grabbing your arm.
“Rudy—” you tried to pull back. “Leave it.”
“Rudy, you’re hurting me—”
He tightened his grip and started dragging you through the crowd.
“Stop! Rudy, stop!” you protested, trying to keep up as people turned to stare.
The cold air hit you the second you were outside.
“Get in the car,” he snapped, pointing toward the street.
“No,” you said immediately, shaking your head. “Not when you’re like this.”
His expression twisted. “Like what?”
“Angry,” you said, your voice trembling. “You’re angry and you’re not thinking—”
“I’m perfectly fine,” he cut you off, stepping closer.
You instinctively stepped back.
“Don’t tell me how I feel.”
You kept backing up until—
Your shoulders hit the wall.
Your heart was racing, your breath shallow.
“I didn’t do anything wrong,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady.
“You were all over him,” Rudy snapped.
“So what?” you shot back, even though fear was creeping in. “You were flirting with another girl—”
“Don’t twist this on me.”
He grabbed your arm again.
“Rudy, stop—please, you’re hurting me—”
“She told you to stop, Rudy.”
The voice cut through everything.
He was standing a few feet away, jaw tight, eyes locked on Rudy’s hand gripping your arm.
Rudy scoffed. “Tom, fuck off. Don’t get involved.”
Tom didn’t even hesitate.
He stepped forward and grabbed your arm, pulling it free from Rudy’s grip.
The sudden release made you stumble slightly, and Tom’s hand steadied you for a second.
He looked at you, his voice lower now.
You nodded quickly, tears still slipping down your cheeks. “Yeah…”
But your voice didn’t match.
Behind you, Rudy let out a harsh laugh. “Who the hell do you think you are?”
Tom turned slowly, his expression darkening. “Someone who was raised better than you.”
Rudy stepped forward. “Watch your mouth.”
“No,” Tom shot back. “You don’t put your hands on a woman. And you don’t speak to someone like that—especially her.”
That last part hung in the air.
Rudy’s eyes narrowed. “Especially her?”
“I’ve seen how you’ve treated her all night,” Tom continued, his voice hard. “It’s pathetic.”
The sound of the punch was sharp, echoing in the cold air as Tom’s head snapped slightly to the side.
Tom hit back just as fast, shoving Rudy before landing another punch.
“Stop!” you screamed. “Stop it!”
They kept going—shoving, swinging, anger spilling out with every hit.
“Rudy, stop!” you cried, your voice breaking. “Tom, stop—please!”
Footsteps rushed out behind you.
“What the hell—” Harrison’s voice cut in as he ran over, grabbing Rudy and pulling him back. “That’s enough!”
Chloe and Sarah followed, both looking panicked.
“Are you okay?” Chloe asked, rushing to your side.
“I—I don’t—” you shook your head, eyes still locked on them.
Harrison held Rudy back, breathing hard. “You’re done. Go.”
Rudy wiped at his lip, glaring past him—at you.
“If I leave now,” he said, his voice cold, “we’re over.”
Something in you snapped.
You stepped forward slightly, your voice steady for the first time all night.
“We’ve been over,” you said. “Fuck you.”
Then Rudy scoffed, shaking his head before turning and walking off.
Tom spat blood onto the ground, breathing heavily.
Then without a word—he turned and walked away.
You stood there for a moment, everything catching up to you all at once.
“Hey,” Harrison said gently, stepping closer.
You turned and wrapped your arms around him without thinking.
“Thank you,” you murmured.
“I’ve got you,” he said quietly.
Chloe rubbed your arm. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
You nodded, pulling back. “Yeah… I just—”
Your eyes drifted toward the street.
“…I’m gonna go check on him.”
Chloe raised an eyebrow slightly—but didn’t argue. “Okay. Text me.”
The street was quieter now.
You spotted his car parked a little further down.
The engine was still running.
You hesitated for a second.
You opened the passenger door slowly.
He was leaning back in his seat, one hand resting on the wheel, the other holding a cigarette between his fingers.
Smoke curled through the air.
You slid into the seat, closing the door softly.
Heavy. Thick. But not uncomfortable.
After a moment, he spoke.
He exhaled, staring straight ahead. “Don’t.”
You frowned slightly. “Why?”
He finally glanced at you. “Because I didn’t do anything special. I just did what he should’ve done.”
Your chest tightened slightly at that.
He looked away again, taking another drag before holding the cigarette out toward you.
You hesitated for half a second—then took it.
You inhaled, the burn hitting your lungs as you leaned back slightly.
“I don’t know why I stayed with him,” you admitted quietly.
Tom’s jaw tightened. “Yeah… I was wondering that.”
You let out a small, shaky laugh—but it quickly turned into tears again.
You reached forward, flicking on the small light above.
Tom blinked, squinting slightly. “What are you doing?”
“Hold still,” you muttered, leaning closer.
He instinctively leaned back a bit. “What the—”
“Stop moving,” you said, your voice softer now.
You reached up, gently tilting his face to the side, inspecting the cut on his lip.
“…You’re bleeding a lot,” you murmured.
“I’ve had worse,” he said.
You ignored that, glancing around before spotting tissues in the console.
You grabbed them and leaned in again, dabbing carefully at the blood.
You were so close now—closer than you’d ever been without arguing.
Your touch was careful. Gentle.
Completely different from anything he expected.
Your eyes flicked up for a second—
Something unspoken sitting right there between you.
Tom broke it first, clearing his throat slightly and leaning back.
“…You want the last of that?”
You blinked, glancing down at the cigarette still between your fingers.
A small, tired smile tugged at your lips.
The cold hit you properly now that the adrenaline was fading.
You were still standing outside, arms wrapped around yourself slightly, the thin fabric of your dress doing absolutely nothing against the night air.
He didn’t say anything at first—just shrugged off his hoodie and held it out to you.
You blinked at it. “…What?”
“Take it,” he said, like it was obvious.
You hesitated for half a second, then slipped it on. It was warm—his warm—and way too big on you, the sleeves swallowing your hands slightly.
Tom huffed, a small smile tugging at his lip. “I still hate you. Don’t get used to it.”
You rolled your eyes—but smiled anyway. “Right back at ya.”
Then he nodded toward the street. “I can drop you home… but I’ve had a bit to drink.”
You shook your head, glancing back at the house. The music was still going, the lights still flashing.
“It’s only like 2am,” you said. “…I wanna stay.”
He raised an eyebrow slightly.
You hesitated, then added, testing it—
“Wanna… get a drink together?”
Tom studied you for a second… then nodded once. “Yeah. Alright.”
Back inside, the party swallowed you whole again.
You grabbed drinks, standing a little closer than usual—less tension, less biting comments.
For a moment, it almost felt… normal.
But that didn’t last long.
You turned back to him after finishing your drink—
—and he was different again.
Leaning against the counter, surrounded by a couple of his frat boys, that familiar smirk back in place.
“Can I talk to you?” you asked.
He didn’t even look at you properly. “You can leave me alone now.”
Your stomach dropped slightly.
“…Why are you being a dickhead now?” you snapped.
“Probably because you’re single now,” a voice cut in.
He stepped closer, grinning. “Means I can have a go, yeah?”
Before you could react, his arm slipped around your waist.
He shoved Jack back hard. “Back off.”
The room went quiet for a second.
Jack raised his hands. “Alright, mate—”
Tom didn’t even look at him. His eyes were on you now, jaw tight.
“Y/N,” he said flatly, “piss off. Now.”
You let out a sharp laugh. “Ha. And to think Thomas Stanley Holland could be nice for once.”
You stepped back, shaking your head.
And then you walked away.
You found your friends again quickly.
Drinking more, dancing more—letting everything blur until you didn’t have to think anymore.
Chloe grabbed your hands. “There she is!”
“I’m fine!” you insisted, already laughing.
“Uh-huh,” she said, unconvinced.
A while later, she leaned in. “Okay… I’m gonna head off.”
“With him?” you asked, glancing at the guy beside her.
You pointed at her. “Text me. Make sure you’re safe.”
“I will, mum,” she teased, hugging you quickly before leaving.
You didn’t care who was watching anymore—you just danced, completely lost in it.
Harrison appeared again, steadying you as you nearly lost your balance.
“You’re not fine,” he said, amused.
You leaned closer slightly, grinning. “Tom’s a dick.”
Harrison chuckled. “Yeah… he can be.”
“Wow,” a voice cut in. “You move on fast.”
Your eyes narrowed instantly. “What did you say?”
She smirked. “You heard me.”
“What did you say, bitch?” you shot back, stepping forward slightly.
“Okayyy,” Harrison quickly stepped in, hands up. “Let’s not start another fight tonight, yeah? Come on, sassy.”
You swayed slightly. “…I’m not sassy.”
“You are very sassy,” he said, guiding you away. “And very drunk.”
The kitchen lights felt too bright.
Harrison helped you sit up on the counter.
“Stay there,” he said. “I’m getting you water.”
You groaned. “I don’t want water.”
Tom was already in there.
Leaning against the counter again, like he hadn’t moved all night.
“Oh look who it is,” you slurred. “The miserable prick.”
Harrison laughed under his breath, handing you a glass. “Drink.”
“Watch her for a sec,” Harrison said to Tom. “I’ll be back.”
Tom pushed off the counter, stepping closer.
Your dress had slipped slightly—nothing major, just enough.
He reached out, adjusting it back into place.
You swatted lightly at his hand. “No touching, Tommy.”
You didn’t even notice. “Imma danceeee.”
He shook his head immediately. “No, you’re not.”
“Watch me,” you grinned, hopping down—
He caught you instantly, hands on your waist.
For a second, everything slowed.
“No,” he said quietly. “You’re drunk.”
“You can barely stand,” he added.
Before you could protest again, he lifted you—like it was nothing—and carried you out of the kitchen.
“Tom—!” you laughed, half-heartedly struggling.
He dropped you gently onto the bed.
You bounced slightly, giggling. “Again.”
He grabbed some clothes from somewhere and placed them beside you. “Change.”
You blinked at them. “…You change me.”
“Absolutely not,” he muttered, turning around. “I’m not looking.”
You fumbled, eventually managing it with a lot of complaining and laughter.
“I’m done,” you announced proudly.
He glanced back, checking quickly—then nodded.
“I’ll sleep in the guest room,” he said.
“No,” you said immediately. “Stay.”
“Stay,” you repeated, softer now.
Then sighed, giving in slightly, lying down on the edge of the bed.
Because the second he settled—
You climbed on top of him.
He froze for half a second—
It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t careful. It was messy and heated and everything you’d both been holding back.
“Hey,” he said, pulling back slightly, breathing heavier now. “No.”
You groaned. “Why do you hate fun?”
“You’re drunk,” he said firmly. “Go to sleep.”
You flopped back dramatically. “You’re boring.”
You rolled toward him instead, grabbing onto him. “Cuddle me.”
He let out a quiet breath.
He pulled you closer slightly, one arm around you.
That was the first thing you noticed.
You blinked slowly, eyes adjusting to the dim light filtering through the curtains. The sheets felt different. The room smelled different.
You shot upright slightly, wincing as your head throbbed harder.
“…Oh my god,” you muttered.
Memories came back in flashes—
Your face burned instantly.
“No. No, no, no…” you groaned, dragging a hand down your face. “I did not do that.”
A strange mix of relief and something else you didn’t want to think about settled in your chest.
You glanced down—his t-shirt hanging off you, your legs bare except for your underwear.
You slid out of bed carefully, still slightly dizzy, and made your way downstairs.
The house was quieter now—hungover silence replacing last night’s chaos.
You made your way into the kitchen, grabbing a glass and pouring yourself water.
“Jesus…” you whispered, taking a long sip.
Spinning around, you saw Jack—and another frat boy, Riley—walking in.
Their eyes immediately dropped.
Then smirks spread across both their faces.
You quickly pulled the shirt down further, crossing your arms slightly. “Turn around, you pervs.”
Jack leaned against the counter, completely unbothered. “I like the view.”
“Disgusting,” you snapped.
Riley chuckled. “So… you and Tom, yeah?”
Your brows furrowed. “What?”
“You had sex with him?” Jack added casually.
Your heart skipped. “Fuck no.”
Your stomach twisted. “What?”
Jack shrugged. “That’s not what he told us.”
It felt like something dropped in your chest.
Your voice came out quieter this time.
Riley just laughed under his breath.
And suddenly, you felt stupid.
Without another word, you stormed out of the kitchen and up the stairs.
You barely registered him at first.
You brushed straight past him.
“What’s wrong?” he called after you.
You shoved his shoulder as you passed. “Don’t.”
But you were already pushing open another door.
He looked up instantly—and then immediately covered his eyes.
“Whoa—okay—morning—didn’t need to see that—”
“I need bottoms,” you said quickly.
“Yeah—yeah, hang on—” he said, turning around and grabbing a pair of joggers, tossing them in your direction without looking.
You pulled them on quickly, your movements rushed and tense.
Harrison peeked slightly. “You good?”
You let out a frustrated groan. “No. I didn’t sleep with Tom, by the way.”
“Just—ugh, I hate my life.”
He chuckled lightly, shaking his head. “Alright… I’ll see you at uni, yeah?”
You headed back downstairs, grabbing your phone off the charger.
The second you stepped into the kitchen again, you shot the boys a glare.
Something caught your eye.
You snatched it before he could react.
Shorts. Bra. Slightly blurry—but clear enough.
“Where did you get this?” your voice shook.
They didn’t answer right away.
Then Riley muttered, “Rudy.”
Your eyes filled instantly.
“Delete it,” you said, your voice breaking.
Jack shook his head slightly. “Nah. You look hot.”
“Delete it!” you shouted.
“Fuck you,” you snapped, throwing the phone back at him as you shoved your shoes on.
Tom and Harrison both came down the stairs.
Tom looked at you properly now—taking in your face, your tears.
“What happened, moody?” he asked, confused.
You let out a bitter laugh. “Fuck you, Tom.”
His brows pulled together. “What—”
“And you going around telling everyone we had sex?” you added, your voice sharp with hurt. “Very respectful, yeah?”
His expression shifted instantly. “What are you talking about—”
But you were already heading for the door.
You yanked it open and slammed it behind you, running back toward your accommodation.
Tom stood there, confused, irritated.
Then slowly turned toward the others.
“…What did you say to her?”
Jack shrugged. “Nothing—just what you told us.”
Tom’s jaw tightened. “I never said we fucked. Because we didn’t.”
“…What are you lot looking at?” he snapped.
His expression changed instantly.
Harrison stepped closer, his face hardening too.
“Where did you get that?”
“Rudy sent it—” Riley started.
Tom smacked the back of Jack’s head hard. “Are you serious?”
“Delete it,” Tom snapped.
Tom grabbed the phone, deleting it himself. “You don’t keep shit like that.”
Harrison shook his head, disgusted. “What is wrong with you?”
“That’s messed up,” Tom added, glaring at them. “Don’t ever show that to anyone again.”
They muttered under their breath—but didn’t argue further.
Tom tossed the phone back, his jaw tight.
Then he turned away, running a hand through his hair.
You barely made it back to your accommodation before everything hit you.
Your hands were still shaking as you pushed your door shut behind you, leaning against it like you could block the world out.
You opened the door quickly, and the second she stepped in, you knew something was wrong.
“What?” you asked, your stomach already sinking.
She didn’t answer—just held her phone out.
Messages. Group chats. People reposting it.
“Didn’t she just break up with Rudy?”
“She definitely slept with him.”
“I didn’t—” you shook your head, panic rising. “Chloe, I didn’t—”
“I know,” Chloe said quickly, grabbing your hands. “I know you didn’t.”
“But everyone thinks I did…” your voice broke.
Chloe’s jaw clenched. “I’m going to kill them.”
Some didn’t even try to hide it—looking at their phones, then at you, then back again.
You kept your head down, walking faster, your chest tight the entire time.
In the lecture hall, you couldn’t focus.
You could feel it—eyes on you, people talking quietly behind you.
“I need air,” you muttered to Chloe before walking out.
“…why are your so-called friends telling everyone you and Y/N had sex?” Chloe’s voice cut through sharply.
“They’re sending that picture around!” Chloe snapped. “Do you even realise what that does to her?”
Tom’s voice came back, tense. “I didn’t say that.”
“I didn’t,” he repeated, firmer now.
You didn’t want to hear this.
And started walking away.
“Y/N—” Tom spotted you instantly. “Wait.”
“I didn’t tell anyone,” he said, catching up slightly. “I swear.”
“No,” you snapped, your voice shaking. “Just leave me alone.”
Tom was standing in the middle of the walkway now, loud enough that people nearby were already looking.
“For everyone’s information,” he said clearly, his voice sharp, “me and Y/N did not have sex.”
“And if I see anyone with that picture,” he added, his tone dropping dangerously, “or hear about it being sent around again—delete it. All of it.”
“I’m not asking,” he finished.
People were staring—but differently now.
You looked at him for a second longer—
Then turned and walked away.
You didn’t feel quite as alone.
That night, you couldn’t sit still.
Everything was still buzzing in your head.
Hoodie on. Phone in your pocket. A blunt between your fingers.
“Of course,” you muttered.
“What do you want?” you asked, already irritated.
He stepped closer. “You really embarrassed me today.”
You laughed bitterly. “Me? You’re the one who sent that picture.”
“You shouldn’t have been acting like that—”
“Don’t,” you snapped, your voice shaking with anger. “Don’t you dare blame me for this.”
His expression darkened as he stepped closer.
“She told you to back off.”
Rudy scoffed. “You again?”
Tom stepped forward. “You never learn, do you?”
Rudy barely got the words out before Tom hit him.
Rudy stumbled, and Tom shoved him down, holding him there.
Tom grabbed his collar tighter. “Delete the picture.”
Rudy swore under his breath—but pulled his phone out.
Tom watched closely. “All of it.”
Tom let him go with a shove. “Don’t come near her again.”
Tom grabbed your arm—but gentler this time.
“I didn’t tell anyone,” he said, quieter now. “About us. About anything.”
“I know,” you said softly.
He hesitated. “…I’m sorry.”
You blinked slightly. “For what?”
“…It’s okay,” you said. “I still hate you though.”
A corner of his mouth lifted.
You both laughed lightly.
You held up the blunt slightly. “You want?”
He took it without hesitation.
You ended up back at your accommodation.
Sitting on the floor. Talking about nothing and everything.
High enough that everything felt softer.
At some point, you looked at him.
“…Why have you always hated me?”
He frowned slightly. “I never hated you.”
He shrugged. “You just annoyed me.”
It was slower. Intentional.
His hand came up to your jaw, steadying you as you kissed him again.
When you pulled back slightly, he looked at you differently now.
“Do you know you’re beautiful?” he murmured.
“Shut up,” you said softly.
But you didn’t pull away.
