Hot stuff chairtied in my kitchen - part 2.
Are you under 35, male and based in the UK? Are you looking for someone to tie you up? If so, let me show you the ropes 😈
quadriparesis-deactivated201908
reblog if your inbox is open to any lgbtq+ kids who need to talk over the holidays
tchat70
it always is
jerias21
"Just go slow alright?" He asked.
I massaged his beautiful straight boy ass. Spreading his legs wider, playing with his hole before laying down on top of him, whispering in his ears.
"No and you'll fucking love it!"
Tom Holland - Despite
A/N & WC - Any hate on this piece will be deleted and blocked. As someone who suffers from various health conditions, I decided to write this on my own experiences, but to make this a freer read, I omitted any mention of a diagnosis. Third person reader. I do not know Tom (or any of his brothers mentioned in this), nor do I claim to: this is, first and foremost, a work of fiction. 7.4k.
Warnings - Time spent in hospital for physical health reasons, spoonie!reader, panicked Tom, mentions of: surgery, needles, eeg, ecg, mri, blood, needles, fainting, drips, etc. Mention of underage drinking (not reader or Tom), legal drinking, crying, slight swearing, angst, Five Feet Apart ref, and sad talk about health. Very fluffy overall.
Summary - Tom is a fretful boyfriend at the best of times, and this is only exacerbated by your emergency admission to hospital, a great surprise to him after you elected not to tell him about your health issues.
“TOM, CALM DOWN, I’m sure her phone just died,” Sam explains, attempting to keep his voice calm and his words rational. It’s proving excessively difficult with Tom’s level of agitation.
“You don’t get it. I haven’t heard from her since yesterday afternoon. She said she was having an early night and I— what if she’s dead? What if she doesn’t love me?”
Harry almost laughs, clutching his beer bottle between his hands, the label peeling off. Tom’s frantic, though, his eyes wide and crazy, his hair now greasy from the amount of times his fingers have carded through it.
“Your priorities are fucked mate,” he says with a half chuckle, “but really, I’m sure she’s fine.”
“What if she isn’t?” Tom begs, carding his fingers viciously through his chestnut curls once again, only to slam his palms down on the marble countertop.
The boys all gravitated to the kitchen fifteen minutes ago for a top up of beer before sticking on another shite movie, but after Tom had a sip of something stronger, he lost all his cool the second he pulled his phone up and saw no new notifications from his girlfriend. It’s a rare night, the four brothers together, with Tom and Harry so often travelling, Paddy snowed under with GCSE work, and Sam’s job, so they try to steer away from girlfriends in order to truly appreciate their quality guy time. Tonight that hasn’t gone to plan, now with all four of them nursing yet another bottle, chatting, leaning around the kitchen island.
I’ll send a pic of my18 yo 🍆 to anyone who reblogs this ;)
golden-batboy
Yes please! 🙋
@woahitIsjonas #JonasBridges
conflictedreboot2
Mmmm good boy
certainwolffun
fuck bro, lemme have a go
world-of-pretty-bones
Do it.
Do it for every time you cried over your body.
Do it for every time you hated what you saw in the mirror
Do it for everyone who said you couldn’t
Do it for “have you lost weight”s
Do it for the double takes.
Do it for me.
Do it for you.
Do it for us… we all believe in you. You can do this!