#Tom holland x reader angst | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lnfours · 1 year

Text

summer loving (one) ⎸ t.h

⌙ summary: your mom and tom’s mom grew up together, swearing that their kids would be life long friends. and it was true, the holland boys were a special part of your life. but on the annual trip to their beach house this summer, everything feels different. and that’s because it is.

⌙ au: based on the book and tv show ‘the summer i turned pretty’ by jenny han. childhood friends to lovers

⌙ wc: 1.7k

⌙ warnings: swearing, hints of jealousy, a hint of fluff and angst.

⌙ pairing: tom holland x fem!reader

masterlist ⎸ teaser ⎸ chapter two ⎸ listen

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

the waves crashing on the sand, the smell of salt and sunscreen in the cool breeze, the seagulls calling in the blue sky above the ocean, and the feeling of the sun on your skin.

you were home.

you smiled as you entered the holland’s beach house, it being a tradition to come every summer since you and your older brother were born. your parents had been life long friends of the hollands, nikki and your mom being so close that the two were practically sisters. the husbands always stayed at home to watch over things while the wives and the kids took a vacation. that’s how things have always been.

of course amongst you and your older brother, there were the holland brothers. four of them, in fact. two of them were twins, harry and sam, and the youngest one, paddy, being like one of your own brothers. he was your favorite, but you’d never let the other boys know that.

lastly, there was the oldest holland boy, tom. tom was your first crush, the only boy you’d always wish for on your birthday when you blew out the candles on your cake. he was protective of you, always defending you when the other boys made fun of you or left you out of things. if you were living in a fairytale, he’d be your knight in shining armor.

but this summer, you had a gut feeling that everything was going to be different. your suspicions were right when you weren’t greeted with a bear hug from tom, which had become a tradition over the years. instead, he walked up to you and gave you a small smile and an awkward wave.

you had furrowed your eyebrows, but let it roll off your back as you made your way to your room. it looked the exact same, the baby blue walls and white furniture. the blue and yellow floral bedding.

everything was just the way it was supposed to be.

you turned your head as there was a soft knock on your door, “hey, what’re you up to?”

you smiled at sam, folding your clothes as you shoved things into the dresser drawers, “putting things away,” you turned to look at him as he laid on the bed, head resting on his hand as he watched you, “what’re you up to?”

you and sam were probably the closest, the two of you bonding over your love for surfing and swimming all day long. the two of you ‘were like fish’, as your mother likes to say.

“probably gonna go catch some waves,” he smiled, “look at ‘em! practically callin’ my name!”

you laughed, looking outside the large window that sat across from your bed, “they do look pretty nice.”

“you comin’?”

you sighed, shaking your head as you threw your clothes down onto the bed, “fuck it, yeah.”

his smile lit up, “sweet! i’ll meet you outside in 5.”

he sprung off your bed and made his way to his own room, closing your bedroom door behind you. you grabbed a bathing suit, quickly throwing it on before grabbing your tote bag and throwing in a towel and your book, slipping on your flip flops before making your way down the wooden steps. you met sam downstairs, smiling to both of your moms as you entered the kitchen.

“already heading out?” nikki smiled, she knew you and sam loved to hit the beach on the first day.

“yup, the waves are calling to us!” sam said, tossing you a water bottle from the fridge. you smiled as you caught it, hearing another set of footsteps enter the room.

“just make sure y/n doesn’t wipe out this time.” your brother joked, causing you to roll your eyes and flip him off jokingly.

“one time! it was one time, austin!”

he let out a chuckle, looking at your mom, “do you care if harry and i head into town?”

she shook her head, “no, just make sure you’re not doing anything stupid.”

he fake saluted her before walking backwards into the living room, calling to harry. you looked at sam, giving him a small smile before nodding your head to the door.

“come on,”

“be careful you two!” the moms called out, both of you calling back to them and replying that you would before heading to the side of the house where they kept the surf boards. you grabbed yours before taking off towards the entrance of the beach, both you and sam looking out to the waves before smiling to each other.

“i’ll race ‘ya.” he smiled as you plopped your things into the sand. you sighed, thinking of an excuse you could use to distract him so you could get a head start.

“c’mon sam, it’s not fair. you always beat me-” you started before suddenly taking off towards the water. he laughed, calling back to you as he followed you in pursuit. you giggled as you plopped onto the board, paddling your way out.

“you’re lucky i like you enough for you to have that victory.” he said as he paddled next to you, finally catching up. you laughed, nodding your head to the right.

“c’mon, i’ve been waiting all year for this.”

“ladies first.”

the water was warm, the waves perfect for surfing as you and sam took turns riding them. you both had been in the water so long you hadn’t noticed that the sun was starting to go down, leaving you both with an hour left of sunlight.

you made your way to the shore, sitting your board next to you as you sat on the towel. you looked out at the view in front of you, swearing that no matter how many times you saw it, it could never get old.

“i’m gonna head back and see what the moms are doing,” sam said, pulling you out of the trance, “you comin’?”

you shook your head, “nah, i’ll probably read for a little bit before heading up.”

he smiled, “okay, nerd.”

you rolled your eyes and watched as he stood up, grabbing your board from the sand, “i’ll put this beaut back for you.”

“thank you,” you smiled and he nodded.

“‘course, see you when you come back.”

you nodded as he walked in the direction of the house, a board under each arm as he hiked through the sand. you grabbed your book from your tote bag, occasionally looking up from the pages to watch the sky turn into a mix of pink, purple, red and blue.

there was nothing prettier than an east coast sunset.

you were too lost in daydreaming and watching the sky change from blue to a mix of pink, purple and red to realize someone sat down beside you. when you saw a flop of brown curls out of your peripheral, you realized it was just tom. you smiled over in his direction as he brought his knees to his chest.

“fancy seeing you here,” you joked, “come here often?”

he chuckled, “ha ha, very funny.”

you smiled, “seriously, though. where’ve you been?”

“out,” he shrugged. you knew he didn’t owe you and explanation, but you were curious about what got him so down that it changed his entire demeanor.

“knew i’d find you here, though. you’re always on the beach on the first day.”

“yeah, it’s nice and quiet when it’s sunset. it’s peaceful.”

his eyes slightly widened, “sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt. i can go, if you-”

you shook your head as you waved him off, “nah, it’s okay. nice to finally see you. was honestly getting a little lonely.”

he nodded, looking down at your book as he traced over the pages with his fingers, “reading anything interesting?”

“not unless you’re interested in reading about a girl who’s in love with a guy who’s a douche bag hockey player for their college.” you smiled over at him, your hair slightly falling in your face as the wind blew. he rolled his eyes, chuckling playfully.

“you’re always the sappy one.”

“i am not!” you laughed, shoving his arm playfully.

“mhm, okay.” he hummed. the two of you sat in comfortable silence, you taking in a deep breath before speaking, scared of ruining the peaceful moment.

“how’s alexis?”

he stiffened up, clearing his throat before speaking, “dunno, could ask the guy she cheated on me with.”

you frowned, “t, i’m sorry.”

he waved you off this time, “nah, don’t worry about it.”

“she kinda sucked anyway.”

he laughed, “you’re on the nose with that one, young blood.”

you rolled your eyes at the nickname, “oh my god, i’m literally a year younger than you.”

“14 months, actually.”

“seriously, i could drown you in the ocean right now and no one would know.”

“you’d honestly be doing everyone a favor.” his response concerned you slightly.

“forreal though, you doing okay?” you asked, meeting his eyes. his brown eyes looked right back into yours and they looked so pretty in the colors of the sunset. he gave you a soft smile.

“i am now.”

your heart skipped a beat, taking in his slightly crooked nose from breaking it one too many times during filming. the way his freckles looked on his sun kissed skin.

tom holland was perfect to you. the true definition of perfect, the man of your dreams.

you cleared your throat as you broke the eye contact, looking down at the sand, “how’s work?”

“good, honestly,” he shrugged, “taking a break for the summer, kinda wanna just relax and live life since i haven’t really gotten a chance to do that in the past 7 years.”

you nodded, “yeah, i couldn’t imagine.”

“what about you? how’s school going? your last year, right?”

you nodded, “you’re looking at a future holder of a masters degree in business.”

“wow, miss smarty-pants,” he laughed, “kinda thought you’d go for the doctorate, y’know? dr. y/n y/l/n sounds good.”

you laughed, “no thanks, i don’t need any more debt.”

he tilted his head, “fair enough.”

“still ticklish?” he asked and you looked over at him with wide eyes.

“...no…” you hesitated, but he didn’t buy your lie. he gave you a look before he started digging his hands into your sides. you laughed loudly, trying to pry his hands off of you as he tackled you to the ground.

“tom! stop!” you laughed, pushing his hands off of you as he looked down at you. he smiled back down at you, his curls falling against his forehead as his brown eyes locked with yours again. you noticed the way he studied your face, his eyes looking down at your lips. you hadn’t even realized you were subconsciously doing the same thing, your hands moving his curls from his face. he slowly leaned down, his nose bumping against yours. he knew he would regret it if you didn’t lean in, too. but part of him knew you were going to.

his lips brushed against yours and you could feel his minty breath fan your face. he was so close. the type of close you’d been dreaming about ever since you were younger.

“the moms want the both of you back for dinner.” sam’s voice broke the two of you apart, tom scrambling to get off of you as you sat up. you both nodded back at sam’s unamused look, him turning around as he headed back down the sand path to the house.

you grabbed your things and packed them into the tote bag. tom offered you a hand as he pulled you up off the sand. you smiled as a silent thank you, a small blush creeping onto your cheeks.

“last one to the house gets the loser’s dinner roll.”

your eyes widened as you pushed his chest, knocking him a bit off balance as you took off towards the house. he laughed, following you in pursuit.

“cheater!” he called after you.

“gotta keep you on your toes, holland!”

he shook his head, mumbling under his breath, “yeah, you definitely do.”

all you could think about was that this summer was definitely going to be different. maybe after all these years, your wishes would finally come true. but of course, time could only tell.

but there was one thing you knew for sure: tom holland was going to be the death of you.

add yourself to my tagged list here

tagged:

@t0msleftnut @jackiehollanderr @tomshufflepuff @behxndthemask@tsukishiromiki@i-love-superhero@scorpiostunner1027 @queensholland @lostamongstthecosmos@feeling-straange @lauren2408 @lovesick-valkyrie @kaitlynthehuman @wh3n-1t-ra1ns-1t-p0urs @cutehollands @zpidey-sense @maggie-starz @heyrogers @peterparkeroos @stephie-senpai @lol-you-thought @cutie1365@gentlethunderstorm @avengersgirllorianna@hista-girl @casualprincess77@keithseabrook27 @tomhollandsmouthfr0g@wtfholland @dark-night-sky-99 @wowitstonystark @no-aaaahhhh @sskidizzle @sholla4-314 @maggiepalma @awshucks-ace @httpmcrvel @peterparkers-waffles @casuallifexcreativesoul @shaykeijser @chennyetomlinson @pvnk-bivch @iaiabear @spidey-pal @lovelyh0lland @spicygrethan @woah-jess @embrace-themagic @annahollanddd @savethebabyseals @sighspidey @spideyyypeter @yourwonderbelle @ravynnn-12 @nichu @valkyries-bi @superserumstark @iamgabriellelambert @utsoftie @laureharrier @mischiefmanaged49 @paradoxparker @sdrecsfics @solarspidey @randomfandom3599 @quicksoldier @notunlimited @smexylemony @captainbuckyy @ashely313-blog @tom-hollands-eyelash @slytherinholland @tomsobriens @delicately-written @kiggys-newblog @peterbxrnes@alexindahouse @aoonai @babylsn @musicgirl234 @tomhollandandmarvelsworld @shortieminn @lushparkers @sweetenedangeltears @gopnista @jackiehollanderr @purple-ash27@tomsmelanin@tsukimi-ackerman @the-queen-procrastinator@estillion14@awkwardfangirl2014@mcuspidey@gorl-d @xitzbrookiex@playbucky @luutaku@kathykat243 @slytherinrising@luckyplums1@wekindadepressed @summernykole@fairydustparker@osterfieldholland01 @zaynjawy @satan-of-fandoms018@vintageroses1014516 @novaddictx @peek-a-boo-boo-boo@134340-cm@missmulti @melaerica@chennyetomlinson @shotgun-shot-to-the-heart@itsallaboutmeritenow @thequeensardine@nedthegay@exoticxstyles@avngrsinitiative @aweways @spidey-waffles11@xinyourdreamsx@wronglanemendes@sholla4-314@aussie-mantle@chubsluda @tommiboiholland @ariesirwin@rageyoudamnednerd@loveforyouwasbulletproof@stargazerholland@applenter@untainted-memories@pxterbpxrker@sunsetspidey @zoellajulien@irishfangirlxx @peteunderoos@t0mh0llandimagines@newestro@silktoyourspidey@youllbemineandillbeyours@lovcyou3000@theshortegg@peachyinparis@emmatrashforfandoms @jedi-dreea @ @cokenooodles@ttaecrackers @sleepy-zzz @annathesillyfriend@24kcalum@xjes@jemalovesfamdoms @trashparker @maggiekelly51 @alina-margaret@thedoctorselder @kingccbsblog @1-800-hamiltrash @afriendlypotatoe@spookyanairwin @qxeen-of-hearts @zabdisamor@heartbeats-wildly@funs1z3d @miraclesoflove @qrangr @parkerstylesperalta @the-puff-is-strong-with-this-one @natashassniper @let-me-luve-you @jubaydahk@multifandomgirl-us @maybemona @newsienewsie @ghostspf @tomshollandz @targaryenvoids @multi-worlds @rechema @h-oneyholland@captainbuckyy @ixchel-9275 @itseightbeats @growingthornz @rororo06@betcoop @theimpossiblehologramtree@relise-thefury @ixchel-9275@itseightbeats @spidcrparkrr @mrskitchenboy @emistrash @xxi-king@sotottalygamer @joonmail @bloomingarianda @starks-parker @corbone-besson @moonbearmeliox @peteunderoos @rin-e @httpsmoony @eternallyvenus @peter-parker-reblogs-v3 @tiny-friggin-human @staarjisung @spookyspookies @lostinspidey @tryn25 @parkerslutz @ethansnestors @tutuabby28 @hollandraul @averyfosterthoughts @soincredible @practicallylivesonline @tom-hollands-wife @zhangyixingxing1 @summergoldenrze @spideynico @geminiparkers @rumplebutterbaby @am3l1a-24 @lmaotshollandd @eridanuswave @teenwishes08 @emistrash @tomshufflepuff @zendayamybabe @parkerpeterparker2004 @zenzedana @nocturnalms @parrishkehlani @brown-eyed-doe @darling-im-moonstruck@selluequestrian @tom-softie @asyamonet22 @peterparkoure @gabicalicota @martinaityte @shaunaelliott08 @maverick-wingman @seriouslyseresin @khaylin27 @cherrycola27 @nevermind-42 @thesewordsareallihavetogive @n3ssm0nique @Tallrock35 @byebyebreezywrites @averyhotchner @justanothermagicalsara @callsign-milano @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @kabloswrld @harper1666 @nevermind-42 @cherrycola27 @itsdesiree86 @cinematicadour @averyhotchner @khaylin27 @tallrock35 @byebyebreezywrites @averyhotchner @justanothermagicalsara @kabloswrld @marantha @Zzsloth @cinematicadour @callsign-milano @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @harper1666 @honireasns @itsdesiree86 @lnmp89 @alexxavicry @bisexual-watermelons @idrinkteedarling @tmb510 @marajillana @fishingirl12 @swiftmendeshoran @liltimmyst

448 notes · View notes

jahayla-parker · 5 months

Text

Uncharted Territory : Tom Holland x Reader

Description: 9.1k wc, Reader finds herself working on the set of one of Tom’s movies in an attempt to escape her stalker. Only, it seems she can’t outrun her troubles even in another country. This means y/n and Tom find themselves in uncharted territory as they try to navigate their way through the ordeal. Dark, stalker, hurt comfort, protective, injury comfort, angst to fluff. Happy ending.

Warnings: dark theme(s), violence, curse words, guns and gunshots, wounds/injuries, blood/bleeding, stalkers, stalker behavior, break-ins, and related.

This was a Ko-fi request by the lovely @theslayerofthevampires Thank you again for the support 💜

“You coming?” Tom asked as he approached y/n. He and a few others from the cast and crew were going out for drinks. He’d worked with y/n by now, but hadn’t spent much time with her outside of work.

Y/n gave Tom an appreciate smile but shook her head. “No, but thank you,” she replied politely.

“Do you prefer to do something else instead?” Tom offered with a smile.

“Oh,” y/n startled. “No, that’s okay,” she promised. She felt bad, Tom had always been nice and was going out of his way to make sure she was invited tonight. But, she couldn’t accept the offer, it would make her too susceptible to having her past repeated.

“Have I offended you in some way?” Tom asked gently, his smile having disappeared.

“What?” Y/n gushed as she shook her head quickly. “No, of course not!” She replied.

“Okay, well if you decide to join us all later, you know where we’ll be,” Tom proposed, a faint smile on his face again.

Y/n gave Tom another small smile and nodded. She felt bad, and truly wanted to be able to go. But she couldn’t risk getting close. Especially not to a guy. She had came all the way to Berlin for work in order to get away, she wasn’t going to undo that.

Y/n groaned to herself as she cleaned up her table. Today had been a total disaster. It was one thing after another. They’d basically got nothing done on set today and the director wasn’t handling it well.

“Ice cream is on me,” Tom commented warmly as he appeared from around the corner.

Y/n quickly looked up and visibly hesitated. But, she was quick to see how Tom’s immediate reaction to her hesitation showed he’d taken it personally. She had rejected spending time with him since they met. Although to be fair, she’d done that with everyone since she arrived. Only, the others had quickly given up on her ending her isolation; whereas Tom hadn’t. Y/n knew she had likely been being paranoid. Nothing had really happened since she arrived. And she was kinda tired of spending each night alone and having no one to talk to. Perhaps ice-cream with a co-worker wasn’t the end of the world. “Okay, sure,” she agreed.

It came as a surprise to herself, but y/n found herself and Tom growing closer over the last few weeks. In fact, she actually now considered him a friend. It was strange and slightly worrisome still, but also comforting. Especially given she was certain she was slowly losing her mind to her paranoia.

Y/n had gotten a handful of calls from unknown numbers over the past two days. All of which were silent when she would answer. She knew odds were it was simply telemarketers, but it still made her anxious. So spending time hanging out with Tom was helpful in that it distracted her from the suspicious calls.

While they’d certainly gotten closer lately, y/n still hadn’t expected for Tom to ask her out today during lunch. She also hadn’t expected herself to say yes so quickly and freely. Granted, that breeziness didn’t last long. As y/n was now in an empty bathroom stall as she tried not to suffer a panic attack.

Y/n knew she had feelings for Tom, but that was simply another reason she tried to stay away from him when they first met. However, as they’d hung out together as friends, her feelings only grew. He was just as respectful and friendly as she suspected he was upon seeing him interact with others the day he had arrived on set here in Berlin. Perhaps that’s why she was so comfortable accepting his offer instead of letting her paranoia cloud her mind and change her decision. She didn’t regret it, but she knew she’d need to still be on edge. At least until she could somehow ensure she could determine he wasn’t like Michael.

Y/n smiled to herself as she walked into her rental. She quickly locked the door behind her, but the smile didn’t leave her face. She’d just gotten back from her latest date with Tom and had a wonderful night.

Y/N’s smile evaporated the second she entered her tiny kitchenette area. She squinted hesitantly at the counter. There was a small pile of mail she’d opened but not dealt with yet on her counter. That wasn’t the odd part though; she’d left that there this morning. What was concerning was y/n swore she’d left her pen directly on top of the pile of mail. Only now the pen was haphazardly set to the side of the stack of documents.

Y/n sighed loudly as she ran her hands down her face. It could’ve rolled off the top of the stack; it was a pen after all. She was just being paranoid again and looking for trouble. Things had been going too well lately that her mind was getting defensive. She just needed to calm down. Surely if someone had been in here, there’d be other signs of it.

Y/n took a deep breath and decided to double check that she’d locked the door. Once she was sure that it was locked, she made her way to her bedroom space and plugged her phone in before it could die in case she needed it tonight. She then grabbed her bottle of anxiety meds from beside her bed and took one. Surely after enough time, she’d not need them anymore. She just had to let herself see that she was safe now. Time would help with that.

“Come on, love,” Tom nudged teasingly as he snuggled up to y/n. They’d been sharing crazy stories about how something that went wrong resulted in something positive down the road. Tom had explained how his Uber driver had told him he wasn’t going to get the role of Spider-Man while he was on the way to his audition. He had told y/n how as much as it had hurt and seemed like a bad omen, it actually increased his nerves and made him have this buzzing energy that matched Peter Parker’s character really well. Y/n had vaguely answered Tom’s question by stating that her ending up as part of the production crew for the movie they were working on and had met through (Uncharted) was actually the result of a situation gone wrong back home.

“It’s not fun like yours,” y/n explained with a fake light laugh.

Tom noticed the way y/n wouldn’t look at him and how her hands started to shake slightly. He quickly grabbed her hands and squeezed them tightly. “‘ey, love, it’s okay,” he promised. “If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay”.

“Are you sure?” Y/n asked, filled with guilt.

Tom nodded quickly. “Of course, darling, you don’t have to answer. I just don’t want you to feel like you can’t answer just because it has a different tone in nature than my story,” he explained.

“It’s a bit dark,” y/n admitted, staring up at Tom.

Tom nodded again. “That’s okay, if you want to talk about it, I’m here,” he promised, kissing her cheek.

“I don’t want you to see me differently,” y/n mumbled quietly, her eyes staring at her lap.

Tom frowned. “Y/n, I don’t know what’s going on,” he acknowledged softly. “But, I promise you that won’t happen, love,” Tom vowed.

Y/N’s eyes lifted up and she stared at Tom I’m silence for a moment, contemplating. “Okay,” she whispered. She took an audibly deep breath. “So… I- I ended up here because I had to get away from someone back home,” y/n explained vaguely. “I basically ran… changed my info and fled.” “And, yeah, that’s what brought me to Berlin,” she laughed humorlessly.

“You had to get away from someone?” Tom questioned cautiously. “Was it an ex?” he wondered out loud.

“No.” Y/n shook her head. “Not exactly… He-he wanted to be, I guess..,” she replied. “But we were just friends”. Her hands shook slightly as she recalled how it went down.

“I see, I’m sorry, love,” Tom said gently. “Did he hurt you?” He questioned, his worried eyes scanning y/n.

“No,” y/n answered quickly. Upon seeing Tom’s visible disbelief, she sighed. “Not physically at least,” she explained.

Tom nodded slowly. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“It sounds crazy,” y/n admitted.

Tom frowned and took ahold of y/n’s shaking hands. “He stalked you,” he guessed.

“How did-“ y/n panicked.

“I’ve had experience with stalkers before, they make you feel constantly on edge,” Tom sympathized. “That’s the only explanation for why you would think it would sound crazy,” he acknowledged. “Plus, love, it explains why you were so distant before”.

Y/n’s gaze dropped from Tom’s face guiltily. “Yeah… sorry about that,�� she mumbled.

Tom lovingly squeezed y/n’s hand as he held her closer. “Don’t be.” “Just know, I won’t let him hurt you anymore,” he whispered into her hair.

“Tom,” y/n sighed.

“I do not mean to minimize what you went though,” Tom promised. “I simply do not want you to have to live in fear. I’ll help keep you safe as best as I can.” “I can get you some security if you need for when filming is over and you go back,” he offered calmly, smiling faintly as y/n relaxed some and leaned into him more.

Y/n smiled shyly but appreciatively.

Tom and y/n sat quietly for a little, Tom letting her steady her breathing. However, he noticed how she seemed to be bendy looking around the room. This helped him realize that while her breathing had slowed, she was clearly still somewhat distraught. “Thank you for telling me,” he said, holding her hands tightly. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“I-,” y/n looked up at Tom. She shook her head. “I d-do-don’t think so,” she stuttered. She curled the side of her lip up out of self pity. “I mean, I got a restraining order, ch-changed my name, flew to Berlin,” she trailed off, “but…”

“But?” Tom pressed.

“I still panic over every weird occurrence,” y/n blurted.

Tom squinted. He tried to trace back the areas y/n had been nervously looking at earlier for clues. “What do you mean?”

“It sounds paranoid without context… Maybe even with context… but,” y/n rambled bashfully.

Tom squeezed y/n’s hands supportively. “If you want to provide me with the context, I’m open to hearing it. Either way, I doubt it’ll sound paranoid knowing what you said you went through,” he sympathized.

Y/n nodded in agreement. “It’s kinda a long story,” she warned.

“I’ve got all the time in the world to listen to you, love,” Tom said.

Y/n bit back a small smile. It wasn’t hard when her focus shifted from Tom’s kind words to what she was about to disclose. “I… had this friend, Michael,” she murmured. “H-he and I would go to the movies, or hangout together a lot. He never asked me out; which is good, ‘cause I never saw him that way”. She frowned as she continued her story. “Yet, it was because of that that I didn’t know he saw me that way. Not until he started getting a bit possessive when I spent more time with other people.” She looked up nervously, only to be greeted by Tom’s compassionate gaze. “I didn’t realize how bad it was until I was staying with my cousin and his wife one weekend and posted about it… Michael got mad and … and asked who it was, why I didn’t tell him, and all of that kind of stuff.”

Y/n tucked her legs under her as she hesitantly let herself lean into Tom’s comforting embrace. “We got into a fight over it,” she recalled as Tom rubbed her back, “I said I needed space to myself in order to see if we could still stay friends after the weirdness.” She groaned to herself as the memories flowed. “I thought he was respecting that… but instead, he just started hiding his possessive traits.”

“It took me what I think was maybe, a week, to notice that he was following me,” y/n confessed with a scowl. “When I called him out on it, he apologized and… and pl-pleaded to let him make it up to me.” She shivered faintly, recovering when Tom rubbed her bare arms lovingly. “I told him that I needed to think and he began calling me, all day, every day, every hour of the night, to try to get through to me. I told him to stop but he didn’t.” She gritted her teeth as she reprocessed the events. “I blocked him… and then he started showing up everywhere and these ‘gifts’ started arriving at my house.” Y/n shook her head against Tom’s chest out of frustration. “I got a restraining order as I’d ran out of options, but the police did nothing as they said it was coincidental and I couldn’t prove it was him,” she explained.

Y/n wrapped her arms around Tom’s waist as he continued to hold her. “The part where I ended up here because of it, happened to be that, one night, I got a call saying that I was offered a spot on the production crew for Uncharted that I’d applied for months before.” She smiled faintly as she spoke about her change in luck. “I had my friend verify the offer, so I knew it wasn’t a trap from him,” y/n detailed. “When she mentioned the only issue she saw was that it was in Berlin, I saw it as a chance. I immediately changed my last name so that it wouldn’t show on any passports or flight registries, ordered a new emergency-rushed passport, and flew out here,” she concluded. “So, yeah, that’s me,” y/n added in an attempt to soften the tension caused by the rest of her words.

“That’s not you,” Tom murmured. He pressed a light kiss to the top of y/n’s head.

“What?” Y/n whimpered in a hushed voice.

“That’s something you went through,” Tom acknowledged with a frown. “But, it’s not who you are, y/n,” he soothed. He tightened his grip on her as she melted into his side. “I’m really sorry you had to deal with that.” Tom took a deep breath and intentionally focused on making his voice as soft as possible. “But, I have to ask, when you said there was something you were going to say that would make you sound paranoid, what was it?”

“Oh,” y/n laughed to herself. “That,” she mumbled, “right”. “Well,” she sighed loudly, “it’s just..”. A few moments of silence passed after she had trailed off before y/n spoke again. “See that picture frame?” Y/n asked as she pointed across the room to the shelf by her TV.

Tom nodded. “Yes, the one with you, and who I’m assuming is a friend of yours?” he asked to confirm he had tracked y/n’s finger-pointing back to the correct frame.

“Yeah,” y/n agreed.

Tom nodded again.

“Well, I…” y/n sighed. She truly felt crazy. “I could’ve sworn it was at a slightly different angle yesterday,” she admitted.

“Hmm,” Tom nodded. He looked around her room as he asked, “anything else?”

“What?” Y/n questioned, having been caught off guard by Tom’s response.

“Have you noticed anything else out of place?” Tom clarified.

“You don’t think I’m crazy?” Y/n asked, her eyes slightly widened.

“Not in the least,” Tom argued. “Hopefully it’s nothing,” he reassured, “but the fear is valid, and it doesn’t hurt to consider the possibility”. He wrapped his arms more securely around y/n in hopes it would help her feel protected and safe now.

Y/n was beyond appreciative over having been respected about what she felt might be paranoia. “Ummm, well…,” she mumbled. After reminding herself that Tom seemed to trust her instincts, she felt comfortable continuing to explain the weird things that had been occurring. “I’ve also been getting weird calls… with no one on the other end.”

Tom’s brows furrowed as he gazed down at y/n. He pouted to himself. “How long ago was this?” he asked.

“I got one earlier today,” y/n informed Tom.

Tom nodded. He gently tilted y/n’s head up so he could look into her eyes. “If it happens again, can you let me answer?”

“You want to answer it?” Y/n questioned in bewilderment.

Tom simply nodded. “I was sincere when I said I want to help,” he promised.

“Okay,” y/n nodded. “Thank you”.

“No,” Tom whispered, stroking y/n’s cheek. “Thank you for being willing to let me know and trusting me to help”.

“Tom…” y/n trailed off. Her hesitant eyes were focused in on Tom’s patient ones.

“Yeah?” Tom replied.

Y/n bit her bottom lip. “I wanted to explain that’s also why I… asked for us to stay a secret,” she frowned. “I don’t want my face getting out there, you know..”

“Of course,” Tom gushed supportively. “And darling, you don’t have to explain things like that, it’s your choice, my love.” He smiled softly as he ran his thumb over y/n’s cheek. “Nonetheless, I completely understand.”

“STOP!” Y/n shouted, her body violently flying forward from her sleeping position. She felt the air from the fan tickling her sweaty forehead. Her eyes were widened and she felt dehydrated. She felt someone grab her hand, causing her distant startled gaze to snap towards where her hand was resting on the bed. She quickly traced the hand back until she saw Tom watching her worriedly.

Y/n let out a shaky choked sob. Her eyes shifted away from Tom’s face in embarrassment. She felt him cautiously wrap his arms around her and bring her to his chest. “I’m… I…I’m sorry, T-Tom,” she apologized.

Tom gently shushed y/n and rubbed her back as she buried her face into his torso. He frowned to himself, hating that the woman he loved was so traumatized. He whispered soothing words as he held her tightly. He made sure to let her know that she was safe and that it was okay that she reacted this way to her nightmare.

Tom had almost gotten y/n back to a completely calm state when her phone began to ring. He felt her stiffen in his arms, making his frown return. He quickly reached over to the nightstand and picked up her cellphone. Tom squinted at the screen angrily but upon feeling y/n shimmy against him to try to see, he tilted the screen for her so she could check it first.

When y/n froze upon seeing the unknown number on her phone yet again, Tom delicately pulled her back to him. “Is it the silent call?” He asked her. Upon her nodding slowly, Tom shifted his jaw and pressed answer as he moved the phone to his ear.

“Hello?” Tom answered. He heard nothing in the background. Not even things or people shuffling around. The other side of the call was completely silent. “Either respond now, or stop calling this number,” Tom commanded. He waited for a response, but still, none came. He glared at the phone as the line went dead.

Tom silenced y/n’s phone before placing it back where he’d gotten it from. He adjusted the blankets to completely cover y/n’s shaking frame. Once she was covered properly, he securely wrapped his arms around her as he began to try and soothe her again.

The night Tom had learned about y/n’s history and comforted her after her related nightmare, the couple hardly slept as she was on edge for awhile after the call. But, after that night these weird occurrences suddenly stopped. It was so sudden in fact, that y/n was a bit fearful that Tom might be connected to Michael somehow. However, she calmed herself down and realized that was crazy as Michael wouldn’t have stopped now because of that even if Tom did have a secret connection to him; there would’ve been no reason to. In fact, one would expect if that were the case for Michael to feel more comfortable and increase his stalking behaviors. So, y/n figured she was just being paranoid from the very start as it had now been over two weeks without anything weird happening.

Y/n yawned lightly as she unlocked the door to her apartment and stepped inside. Her tiredness quickly turned to glee upon seeing the decorations Tom must’ve set up. They had agreed to staying in for date night tonight. Y/n had given him her spare key since she knew she’d be having to work at least an extra hour longer than he did on set today. She figured he could let himself in and get comfortable until she got there. She’d texted him about twenty minutes ago to let him know she was finally done on set. Given the romantic dinner that was currently set for two and rose petals covering the floor, he must’ve utilized that extra time to set this up. While she’d been expecting a more casual night in, she appreciated the sentiment.

Y/n walked further into her apartment, blissfully unaware to what was about to happen. Just as she’d approached the dining table, she felt a cold metallic pressure on the side of her head. Her body began to panic but she forced her mind to remain calm. Y/n turned at a glacial speed towards where the cold metal sensation was. Michael. She swallowed thickly as her dramatically widened eyes took in the way her stalker was suddenly standing directly beside her, a handgun barrel pressed against her head. Before she could find the words to say, or any words that is, Michael gripped her shoulder and motioned for her to sit.

Y/n’s hands nervously sat in her lap as she gazed across the decorated dining table. Michael was already staring back at her. While his appearance still filled her with terror, it was slightly better than it had been with the gun pressed against her.

“Eat, beautiful girl,” Michael said, waving the gun loosely around as he used it to point to y/n’s plate. “Come on, it’s our date night,” he encouraged when she didn’t move, “wouldn’t want the food to get cold”.

Y/n eyed the overbooked steak on the plate in front of her. Had Michael poisoned it? Would he do that? He liked her right? So surely he wouldn’t want her dead.. right? Had he somehow figured out about her relationship with Tom? If so, was that enough to make him try to poison her in retaliation? It’s not like she was even hungry. Not anymore. Any appetite she had when she walked in the door left the second she saw him. But she didn’t want to piss Michael off by not eating it either. Perhaps she could play it off.

Y/n poked her fork at the steak. “I.. uhh… I was actually going to try being vegetarian,” she lied.

“Since when?” Michael asked, seemingly deeply interested in the topic.

“I’ve thought about it for awhile,” y/n said slowly as she inventoried her surroundings. “A co-worker… o-on set showed me.. a… a video today though,” she rambled, biting her lip as she realized her only possible escape would be the front door.

“A vegan propaganda video,” Michael commented judgingly with a look of irritation on his face.

Y/n nodded nervously, her fear returning as her eyes made their way back to the gun in Michael’s hand.

“No worries, babe,” Michael said casually, “it’s sweet you care that much”. “We can still enjoy our night together,” he grinned.

Y/n nodded anxiously yet again, not wanting to offend Michael. “What are you doing here?” She asked. As appalling as this was, at least he was having positive feelings for her not anger against her at the moment. She hoped to keep it that way while also finding a way through this. If she somehow survived the night with him, maybe she could sneakily tell Tom tomorrow on set? Tom. How was she going to warn him to stay away? Did she want him to? Or did she selfishly want him to come over and help her? Could he help her? Was it selfish of her to want him to?

"I’ll have you know,” Michael groaned as he set his gun on the table beside his plate. He paused as he took a moment to enjoy a bite of his overcooked steak. “It wasn’t easy, you were really hard to track down, you know that," he complained.

Y/n’s brows furrowed. Not hard enough, evidently. “Oh,” she whispered. “How did you?” Y/n dared ask even though her voice shook as she worried if Michael would take offense to the question.

Michael actually appeared happy when the question left y/n’s mouth. He smirked as he pulled out his phone. The smirk shifted to a grimace as he glared at something pulled up on the screen. A few seconds later, Michael turned the screen towards y/n to show her.

On Michael’s phone was a picture of y/n and Tom. Given the weird angle and the setting, y/n knew it had clearly been taken by either a fan or paparazzi. Fortunately, as to not further anger Michael, the photo was innocent enough. In the unauthorized photo, y/n was sitting very closely to Tom and he had his arm over her; but that was it. The unfortunate part was that it was taken without their knowledge and leaked online for anyone to see; including her stalker Michael.

“Your new guy friend seems to have a large social presence,” Michael commented with blatant disgust.

Y/n ignored Michael’s attempt to act as if he hadn’t heard of Tom Holland before seeing the photo of her and him together. She nodded slowly, “that’s how.. How you knew I was in Berlin…”. Y/n placed her arms on the table, intentionally laying them over the utensils. She ignored the way the ends of the silverware dug into her skin as she asked Michael how he got inside her apartment.

“That was a bit trickier,” Michael confessed, but was still smug about it. “Especially given the name change,” he tsked. “Which, is too bad. I liked your real last name babe,” he complimented, reaching out and taking hold of y/n’s hands across the table.

Y/n froze and her body tensed. She couldn’t pull away without upsetting Michael. But it made her physically nauseated to be touching him. Or rather, to have him touching her.

Michael took y/n’s sudden tension as an implication that she felt bad about changing her last name. “It’s okay honey,” he nearly purred, squeezing her hands for good measure. “Both are nice. Any name is nice on you.” Michael let go of her hands as he resumed eating his meal. “Anyways, dear, to answer your question,” he mumbled with food in his mouth. “Once I went through the list of names for the cast and crew, I realized the name change, but thought it was just a mistake.” He shrugged casually as he continued, “nonetheless, I then name dropped your new last name when I got to set and asked for an extra key”. He smirked to himself, his eyes flickering up to meet y/n’s . “I’m sure you’re wondering how I was able to get one,” he said excitedly. “I pretended to be one of your co-workers who was running behind on their tasks and needed to get some papers you had left at home by accident and said I didn’t have time to get the key from you directly,” he bragged.

Y/n slowly dragged her arms back to her. She was careful to do it gradually as to not accidentally drop the streak knife on the floor in the process. As good of a plan as it was, she still felt very stupid in that moment. She should’ve told the others on set about Michael. She’d wanted to get away and leave it all behind her. But by not telling anyone, she let him worm his way back into her life so easily. She should’ve told the crew so they’d not be so naïve. But it was too late for that now. “Wow,” she murmured, hoping it came across as being impressed and not terrified. “S-so,.. wh-when did you get here?” Y/n questioned as her wrists hit the edge of the table. The serrated knife dropped to her lap; the sound muffled by her question.

“Nearly a month ago,” Michael answered breezily.

“What?” Y/n gasped, practically choking on air. A month?! Those weird occurrences had been Michael after all! She wasn’t paranoid. He’d been in her new apartment.

“I didn’t want to rush things,” Michael defended, his tone suddenly tighter. “We both know how that went last time.” He sighed. “But, I was the one who cleaned up the files in your kitchen, dusted your picture frames, and made your bed that day you forgot,” he grinned. “I also checked in on days I wanted to give you space but also wanted to check on you,” Michael added.

“That was you,” y/n murmured to herself as she thought back through all the crazy things that had happened.

“Of course that was me babe,” Michael scoffed. “Babe, I had to be sure you were taken care of”. He gritted his teeth as he glanced down at the gun beside him. “I’ll be honest, I’m not too fond of this… Tom, guy though, that you’ve brought into our lives,” he complained.

Y/n faltered. At this point, she didn’t know how to proceed. She didn’t know what Michael knew or perceived. “I- I-…” she stuttered nervously.

"I mean, really, babe?” Michael groaned as he shook his head. “Why be with Tom Holland?” “What does he have that I don't?” He asked with his arms crossed over his chest.

“He isn’t a stalkerish psycho,” y/n blurted. "So it’s more of what he doesn’t do that you do,” she said, her hand quickly covering her mouth. She hadn’t meant to say that out loud. Well, there went trying to keep Michael ‘on her side’.

Michael instantly gripped the gun with one hand and the edge of the table with the other. His face demonstrated his sudden but deep agitation. “You’re a hard one to please, dear,” he nearly hissed. “But, no worries, in time I’ll learn your intricacies.” Michael let go of the gun as he rose to pour y/n some wine.

Y/n watched in anger and fear as Michael got closer. She was beyond fed up of trying to run and hide from him. She was tired of him altogether. She just wanted her life back. “Wh-What do you want from me, Michael?”

Michael squinted at y/n in confusion. “To be with me,” he said simply.

Y/n swallowed as she scooted her chair back slightly. “I’ve told you-“ she reminded gently.

“I know,” Michael nodded. “You see me as a friend,” he acknowledged briefly. “But, friends often become more than friends. You just need to give me a chance”.

“I did,” y/n argued angrily. She’d given him a chance to still be her friend after the first incident. But things hadn’t gotten any better.

Michael squeezed the wine bottle tightly until it broke. He sighed as y/n gasped and leapt from her seat in a panic. But, he nonetheless calmly cleaned up the mess as if it wasn’t some angry outburst. “I meant a real chance, dear,” he corrected though his teeth. “We’ll have time for that soon enough though”.

Y/n utilized Michael looking at the broken shards of glass from the wine bottle to slip the serrated steak knife into her back pocket. “What do you mean?” She asked, partially out of fear and partially to keep him talking. She’d try to wait this out, but if things went wrong, at least she now had a defensive option/weapon.

“I know you enjoy working on set here,” Michael said with what was likely an attempt at a sympathetic frown. “But, our relationship needs to come first, not work”.

“Relationship?” Y/n questioned, stepping back further from the table; and from Michael.

Michael groaned loudly as he picked the gun back up. But, he kept it low and at his side. “I don’t appreciate the fake dumb act, dear,” he scolded. “You’re far too smart for that babe,” he said with a glare, as if in warning. But, Michael quickly snapped back to an overly welcoming expression. “Now, as I was saying,” he redirected happily, “you’ll be coming with me when I leave Berlin tomorrow”. He stepped to the side of the table to approach y/n. “I’ve got your room already set up,” Michael smiled.

Y/n took another step back as she kept her eyes on Michael. “M-my… room?” She questioned. “Leave?”. Y/n rapidly shook her head. “Michael, I’m sorry, but, I think you’re confused,” She tried to empathize.

“I’m not confused!” Michael shouted. His right hand smacked loudly against the table beside him. The dishes rang out in the otherwise quiet room as they tried to steady themselves. “Sorry, dear,” Michael murmured upon seeing y/n’s fear. “Now, as I was saying,” he sighed.

Y/n jumped as a sudden knock hit her door. Someone was here. Tom. It was likely Tom. She still hadn’t settled on whether or not she wanted him to be here for this. Nor if it was okay for her to want such a thing. But that didn’t matter, because Michael had already stomped over to the front door.

Y/n watched silently as Michael peered through the door hole. She noticed the way he gripped the handle of his gun tighter as he glared through the tiny circular window. She froze with wide eyes as he spun towards her suddenly.

“Why is he here?” Michael spat as he stormed towards y/n, waving his gun frantically.

“W-well…,” y/n mumbled quietly. “W-We had a date n-night pl-“ she tried to defend cautiously.

Michael pointed the gun at y/n’s forehead as he glared at her. “No, WE had a date night planned,” he hissed, moving his pointer finger to the trigger. “Get rid of him,” he commanded. Michael grabbed y/n’s bicep and tugged her towards the door.

Y/n nodded frantically. “Tom, I’m coming!” she dared to call out. At least this way Tom would know she was home. That way he wouldn’t just leave and she might even be able to secretly alert him to get her help. She yelped as Michael’s free hand suddenly clapped over her mouth.

Michael dug the barrel into the side of y/n’s head. He lowered the hand from her lips and nodded towards the front door. “Casually!” He whispered harshly. “Don’t act so fearful,” he said, his voice softening drastically, “it’s just me”. When y/n refused to move, he nudged her forward. “Now, go”.

“Don’t act fearful says when there’s a gun to your head,” y/n mumbled to herself as she moved away from Michael. She took a deep breath and slowly opened the door. She schooled her expression into what she hoped would meet Michael’s demands.

Tom looked up from the flowers and wine in his hand as he heard the creaking of y/n’s door. His heart dropped upon making eye contact with her. She was clearly not herself. “Love, what’s the matter?” He asked worriedly.

Y/n resisted a small smile at how attentive Tom was. She shook her head and gave him a sad frown. “I.. uhh…,” she mumbled, pausing when she felt the cold metallic of Michael’s gun move back to the side of her head. “I’m not f-feeling well,” she stated, avoiding eye contact with Tom.

“I can see that, darling,” Tom frowned. He discarded the wine and flowers on the ground beside y/n’s door. “What happened? Did you get another ca-” he began to ask.

Y/n cut Tom off before he could finish his question. She knew he was going to ask if Michael had called her again, and that was the last thing she needed right now. “I-.. I’m sick,” she lied weakly.

Tom squinted. “Does your head hurt?” He interrogated as he scanned y/n’s face.

“What?” Y/n croaked.

Tom pouted, his brows furrowed. “You’ve been crying,” he stated.

Y/n lifted a shaky hand to her face. She hadn’t realized she’d cried at some point between arriving home to Michael’s intrusion and now. But, as her fingers trailed over her cheeks, she realized Tom was right. “O-oh, just-just feeling crummy, is all,” she tried.

Tom didn’t want to pry if y/n needed a night alone. But something told him he shouldn’t leave. If she was truly that sick, he should stay to take care of her. “Why don’t I help?” He offered, taking her hands in his. “I have a strong immune system and can order us some soup-”.

Y/n rapidly shook her head, making Tom release her hands and take a respectful step back to give her space. God, she was already in love with him, wasn’t she?. “I.. it’s not that kind of sick,” she explained. After she noticed the confusion in Tom’s face, she added, “and I just want to sleep”. She felt guilty for the way Tom’s face dropped even more. “Raincheck?”

Tom was still internally questioning the circumstances. But, he wanted to respect y/n’s boundaries so he nodded slowly. “Of course, darling,” he agreed. Tom knew he had to push aside the worry that came with seeing y/n’s wild eyes and clammy skin; she’d all but asked him to leave multiple times now, he needed to do as she asked. “I.. I’ll see you on set tomorrow then, yeah?” He questioned still feeling something was off.

Y/n nodded reluctantly, not wanting to make a promise she wasn’t sure she would be around to keep.

Tom slowly stepped closer, watching for any signs that y/n didn’t want him to give her a goodnight kiss. When she didn’t show any rejection, he leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss on her lips. “Goodnight darling,” Tom whispered, “feel better”.

“Th-thank you,” y/n replied with a small sad smile. Would that be their last kiss? She had to do something. “Goodnight, T-Thomas,” she croaked, making eye contact with him one last time before stepping back to close her door.

Michael dragged y/n away from her front door by her elbow. “What was that kiss?” He growled. Michael glared at y/n as she looked down and tried to stifle her crying. He sighed and pulled y/n into his arms. “I can’t stay mad at you,” he confessed, nuzzling his nose against the top of her head. Michael didn’t seem to notice the way y/n shook in his arms, crying more forcefully now. “Shhh,” he said, it coming off as a demand. When her cries softened in volume, he grinned and squeezed her against him, “that’s my girl”.

Y/n could no longer miss the fact that she was crying. At this point, her tears were actively streaming down both of her puffy cheeks. “Please!” she pleaded, trying to wedge her hands up between her and Michael’s chest to push him back.

Before Michael could react to y/n’s pleas, the front door swung open.

Tom had quietly waited outside after y/n shut the door; unable to ignore the worry he was feeling. His concerns had only amplified when y/n called him Thomas instead of Tom. She never did that. Something was wrong. He was just glad that he hadn’t heard the sound of y/n locking her door after closing it; suggesting it was still unlocked. As such, he readied himself and threw the door open.

Michael spun towards the door, allowing y/n to wiggle free from his grip. He glared at Tom as the man ran towards him with rage in his eyes. As Tom dove into his torso, Michael’s gun slipped from his hold. Meaning the two ended up in a brief hand-to-hand tussle.

After a successful knee strike against Michael, Tom rushed towards y/n. He prayed his grabbing her wouldn’t scare her, but he had to act quickly. Tom gently, but securely, grabbed her hand and tugged her behind him. He positioned himself between her and Michael. “I know it’s hard,” Tom whispered breathily. “But, I need you to trust me,” he explained as he shifted them so they continued to face Michael as the man stalked closer. “Everything is going to be alright,” Tom promised as he reached back and squeezed y/n’s hand. “Do as I, darling, I’ll get you out of here”.

“What do you think you’re doing, mate?” Tom asked Michael as he tried to plan a way to get y/n to safety. “Just leave her be”.

Michael glared at the couple as he stormed closer. “She’s mine,” he growled.

“She’s not property, mate,” Tom corrected with an eye roll. He held his palm out flatly behind his back to signal for y/n to stop; to stay where she was. Tom took several steps forward, towards Michael and away from y/n.

Michael closed the remaining distance between him and Tom, glaring the whole time. “Don’t talk about her,” he growled. Now that he was within striking distance, he raised his fist.

“Hide! Now!” Tom advised as he blocked Michael’s fist with his palm. As he watched y/n run out of the room and into the hallway, he counterattacked, trying to swipe Michael off his feet. It worked, but on the way down, the stalker tried to pull Tom with him. Thank God for the fight training he had to do for Spider-Man and Uncharted!

Tom and Michael wrestled for several minutes. Tom knew the creep was muttering something, but he didn’t bother to try to decipher it. All that mattered was trying to subdue him so y/n could get away. However, Tom’s plans halted when it appeared that Michael had somehow found the gun he’d dropped earlier, and now he had Tom at gunpoint.

Michael grinned wickedly at Tom as he stood up and signaled for Tom to remain kneeling. He used his free hand to wipe the blood from his busted lip. “Y/n, dear!” He called out as he moved behind Tom to hook his arm around his torso. When she didn’t come out of hiding, he groaned loudly and placed his finger on the trigger. “If you don’t come out babe, I’m going to shoot this idiot,” he threatened.

“Don-” Tom groaned as he wriggled in Michael’s hold. “Don’t!” He shouted, hoping y/n wouldn’t listen to the stalker’s demands.

“Shut the hell up!” Michael snapped, tightening his hold on Tom. He pulled Tom closer, making Tom’s back more flush against his torso and dug the barrel of his gun into Tom’s temple. “Y/n, if you care about your friend, you’ll-” he warned.

Y/n’s appearance in the living room cut Michael’s threat off. She stared with wide eyes as she stood before Tom and Michael. This was her mess; she got Tom into this. She needed to get him out of it. “I-I’ll go,” she said with a visible gag. “I’ll-”.

“No!” Tom shouted as he fought against Michael. He even brought his elbow backwards into the man’s torso. But, this only resulted in Michael digging the barrel further into his temple.

“Stop!” Y/n begged. She didn’t care that she’d given up any leverage she may have had. Tom needed to get out of here. No one else needed to suffer. “Just,” y/n cried, “just stop hurting him, hurting anyone, and…” She swallowed thickly, “and then… I’ll go”.

“Y/n!” Tom hissed as he stared at her with wide pleading eyes. “Don’t do this!”

“Willingly,” Michael added. When y/n didn’t seem to understand his statement, he stared at her expectantly.

Y/n nodded shakily. “Y-yes,” she whispered. “Wi-will….,” she paused. After she took a deep breath, y/n cleared her throat. “Willingly,” she lied, the words barely choked out before her tears started to fall. It was a lie, it wasn’t willingly. Nothing about this was willingly done. But she would willingly choose to protect Tom. Besides, she knew there was no way Michael was going to just let Tom live. She knew he saw him as a threat. He was just currently using him as leverage. So, y/n figured she might as well try to flip the situation on Michael.

Tom shook as he scratched at Michael’s arm that was wrapped across his front. “Y/n,” he pleaded, “no, don’t do this! Please!”

Y/n shot Tom a sympathetic look. She wanted to try to silently communicate that she wasn’t going as willingly as she stated, but she couldn’t risk Michael noticing. “I’m sorry,” she sighed.

Michael hummed cockily. “That’s my girl,” he declared with a grin. “I knew you’d choose me”. He slowly released Tom, keeping the gun on him while Tom snapped up and into a fighting stance. He kept an eye on Tom as he walked nearer to y/n, the gun pointed squarely at Tom the whole time. Yet, he noticed the way Tom nevertheless moved closer as if still willing to fight.

Michael waved y/n over to him smugly. When she was by his side, he lifted his free hand up to stroke her cheek, causing Tom to lung forward slightly. “Ah ah,” he scolded, “she said she was doing this willingly”. “I won’t have you violating her boundaries and wishes,” Michael stated ironically.

Y/n’s eyes nearly popped out of her head when she heard Michael say to Tom “now you have to just watch as she kisses her actual crush”. She froze in disgust and panic. But, she quickly recovered as the expectant look on Michael’s face helped her realize she had to play along. She took a deep breath and summoned up any acting ability she may somehow secretly have.

Y/n begrudgingly neared Michael. She closed her eyes as she moved her lips until they were millimeters away from his. She set one hand on his shoulder; for both stabilization and distraction. The other hand she kept at her side, fingers slipping into her pockets.

Just as Michael seemed to become fed up with waiting and began to move his head closer, y/n swiped the serrated steak knife from dinner out of her pocket and slammed it into his arm that was holding the gun. She instinctively took a step back as blood spurted from the wound. However, she knew she didn’t have long; Michael was going to be livid.

Y/n pulled the knife out of Michael’s arm, trying not to dry heave at the sight and sensation of his muscles and tendons tearing against it as she did. She noticed the gun had lowered from being aimed at Tom and was not just hanging at his side. But, before she could grab it and hold him at by gunpoint until the police got there, she watched Michael try to lift the injured arm to point the gun at her as his other arm gripped her hip.

Y/n quickly plunged her weapon into Michael’s thigh and pulled downwards. She once again removed the knife from his leg as she stepped back. She noticed he’d dropped the gun in an attempt to grab at the sudden wound to his thigh. So, this time y/n tossed the bloody knife across the room so Michael couldn’t use it against her. Simultaneously, she scooped up the gun and moved backwards as she pointed it at him.

Y/n had never held a gun before, much less shot one. Prop guns on a movie set? Sure! But a real one, not until now. The weight of it and what it symbolized felt heavier than even the blood-soaked knife she’d stabbed Michael with. As such, she was too distracted by the chaos to notice Tom’s warning shout as Michael grabbed at her leg from the ground. Within seconds, her body slammed to the floor. She groaned loudly but otherwise kept her advantage, the gun only moving off of Michael for a split second.

Y/n kicked and scooted across the ground, her leg hurting too much for her to dare risking an attempt to stand up. She kept the barrel pointed at Michael as she slid further from him. She noticed Tom placing himself between her and Michael as they glared at each other across the floor.

Tom watched Michael closely as he tried to back up slowly until he could reach y/n. Only, he abruptly stopped and went to change directions and head towards her stalker as the man suddenly rose and began charging. Tom and Michael exchanged blows once again. His hand slipped in the blood on Michael’s arm as he tried to grab him, allowing Michael to escape his hold for a moment. But that was all it took for the man to charge towards y/n. Before Tom could even attempt to get ahold of him once again, a gunshot rang out.

Y/n had seen the look in Michael’s eyes as he fought with Tom. She was trying to figure out how to get him to stop. Did she shook him? Just threaten to do so? And if that didn’t work, then actually shoot him? She didn’t have a chance to figure it out when suddenly he was racing her way yet again. With slightly trembling fingers, y/n aimed the gun at Michael’s legs and pulled the trigger. She screamed as the shot rang out and Michael dropped to the ground.

Tom immediately sprinted over to y/n. He threw himself into the floor beside her. He cautiously set his hand over her shaking ones that were still holding the gun. Once she let go of it, he took it from her and moved it to his right hand. With his left hand, he pulled y/n to his side and tried to rub her back.

“I-,” y/n gasped. “I had to do it,” she defended quietly, her eyes still on Michael’s crumpled form.

“I know,” Tom reassured y/n. He held her body tighter to him as he felt her tears soak his shirt. The gun was still in his other hand, but pointed at Michael in case the man was stupid enough to try again. Tom wasn’t going to take any chances. Michael wasn’t coming anywhere near y/n ever again.

Y/n turned her gaze away from her stalker and buried her face in Tom’s side when he tapped her cheek to try to distract her. “I… I didn’t w-wa-want to shoot him,” she cried. Despite Tom’s supportive hold on her, she shook violently against him.

“I know, it’s okay,” Tom promised, resting his chin atop y/n’s head.

“No,” y/n gasped as she choked on a sob. “I-…. it’s not okay,” she argued. “I just shot someone!”

Tom frowned. “‘ey, ‘ey,” he whispered, his left hand gently lifting y/n’s damp chin up so she would look at him. “‘ey,” he repeated when she finally met his gaze. “He was charging at you.” “You did the right thing,” Tom informed her.

Y/n sniffled and hiccuped as she tried to compose herself. “You’re… You’re not afraid of me?” She asked, her voice cracking.

Tom shook his head. “No, love, ‘course not,” he promised quickly. “I’m proud of you for doing what you had to,” he admitted solemnly.

Once y/n was in less of a panicked state, Tom quickly scanned her body for any injuries. “How’s your leg?” He asked, glancing between her and Michael rapidly as to not take his eye off the threat for too long.

Y/n stretched the leg in question out before her. “Just sore, I think,” she answered as she felt out the extent of the injury from her fall.

Tom sighed in relief, quickly pulling y/n back to his side.

“Are you okay?” Y/n croaked out after a few moments of hesitant silence. She was afraid to ask the question. She hadn’t noticed any excessive injuries, but it had all happened so fast she couldn’t be sure.

Tom heard the deep worry in y/n’s tone and hummed. “I’m fine,” he promised, tenderly squeezing her hip for effect. “Much better now that you’re here, and he’s over there,” Tom pointed out as he nodded his head towards Michael.

Y/n whimpered in tired agreement. She nuzzled into Tom’s embrace, appreciating the protection and love she felt. “Th-thank-,” she began.

“Don’t you dare thank me,” Tom spoke softly. “It’s not needed,” he promised. He crooked his neck and placed a light kiss to y/n’s head. “We’re safe now”.

Tom lifted the blanket up to keep y/n tucked in. She was resting curled up against him, his arms wrapped securely around her shrunken frame. They were seated on the couch at his apartment, under several oversized fuzzy blankets as y/n had been freezing; seemingly from her lingering anxiety after tonight’s events. By now they’d already talked to the police and completed any forms they’d been asked to do. They ventured to Tom’s apartment as y/n understandably didn’t want to be in her apartment any longer; plus, it was a crime scene still. But despite the change in environment and how tiring the situation had been, neither one could find sleep. So, they simply held each other as they snuggled on the couch.

Y/n hesitantly broke the silence. The fact that they didn’t feel the need to talk about it right away was a relief. But, there was one question that was bugging her. “Tom?” She asked quietly.

Tom pressed his back against the couch cushions so he could see y/n better. “Yes, darling?” He replied, a small but sympathetic smile on his face as he sensed her reluctance to speak.

“How… I’m glad you did,” y/n said vaguely. “But…,” she nervously bit her bottom lip. “How did… how did you know something was wrong?” She wondered.

“You called me Thomas,” Tom answered easily.

“Wh-what?” Y/n questioned.

Tom smiled and cupped y/n’s cheek with his right hand, the other staying protectively placed on her hip. “Darling, you never call me Thomas, only Tom,” he pointed out.

Y/n bit her bottom lip. It worked. “I… I didn’t know how else to signal it,” she admitted. “But… I… well, I wasn’t sure it would work, that you’d notice the slight difference”.

Tom squeezed y/n’s cheek lovingly. “I notice everything when it comes to you,” he said. “Especially if it has to do with your safety or wellbeing,” he added with a faint smile.

Y/n smiled back softly. “I’m glad,” she confessed. “On the bright side,” she murmured, turning to rest the back of her head against Tom’s chest. “At least now I know how to alert you if someone’s wrong, or if he-“.

“He’s never going to hurt you again,” Tom vowed. He tightened his grip on y/n protectively. “I will do whatever it takes to ensure you never have to worry about him again, trust me”.

“I do,” y/n commented warmly as she squeezed Tom’s hands that were locked around her waist. “I trust you, Tom,” she promised.

——————

Taglist: @theslayerofthevampires @galaxyholland @bigbirdstwins @mcushvft @fishingirl12 @raajali3 @justapurrcat @natswifeysblog15 @directioner5life @ell0ra-br3kk3r @laylasbunbunny

Tom Holland Masterlist

Peter Parker / Spider-Man Masterlist

All My Works / My Main Masterlist Navigation

115 notes · View notes

peterdarlingg · 1 year

Text

I Don’t feel so good

paring: Tom Holland x Reader

Synopsis: Working all day has got you exhausted and Tom has to help take care of you.

Warnings: mentions of a bit of nausea, dizziness, a bit of angst and eating habits? Bad editing,typos probably (Let me know if I missed anything)

A/n: posting another fic? How’d that happen? Anyway this idea kinda just came to me and I made myself sit down and finish it. It’s sort of from my own personal experiences so…that’s that. Gif by @manny-jacinto I hope you enjoy and let me know how it is. 🩷

You’d just finished work and exhausted didn’t do justice to how you were feeling.

It was a Saturday but your boss had insisted on extra tasks that needed to be done and delivered on Saturday night.

So even though it was a weekend, it didn’t feel like it to you.

Tom had been out the whole day because he had plans with the boys. He had been planning it for a while because he has been so busy, but he felt horrible leaving you in the morning.

You told him that you had a lot of work to do anyway so it would be better for him to go out with his friends and have fun.

He complied but still felt guilty.

So come sunset, you were done but oh how tired you were.

Tom had called you about 30 minutes ago and told you he’s on his way home, so you guessed that he’s probably going to arrive any second now.

When Tom walked in he wasn’t expecting to see you in the kitchen, moving so slow that he was a bit concerned. You were making- or attempting to make a sandwich it looked like. But your movements looked slow and sluggish.

When you heard the apartment door close you knew it was Tom but didn’t have the energy to say hello. That’s how bad it was.

You felt like you were moving in slow motion and you couldn’t hold you head up anymore.

“Y/n hi, I’m home.” Tom said walking to you cautiously.

“Hm,” you hummed unable to form words.

“Hey are you okay?” He asked you putting a hand in your back to steady you when you swayed a bit.

“I’m okay,” your words slurring a bit.

Tom was beyond worried now. Looking at you he saw your face white as a sheet and sweat was dripping down your forehead.

Then it clicked into his mind.

“Baby have you eaten today?”

“…no,” you whispered.

“I knew it, dammit y/n” he thought.

You had a bad habit of not eating when you were stressed or simply had a lot of work to do. You just simply forgot to take care of yourself when you get this pressured.

It’s the simplest of tasks like drinking water or having breakfast that you neglected at times like these.

“Sweetheart nothing?” He asked worriedly, looking into your eyes that were dropping down.

You shook your head before mumbling “I don’t feel good,” your knees starting to give out.

Tom carried you to the couch to get you to sit down.

“It’s okay baby, we just need to get you something to eat okay, then you’ll feel much better.” He caressed the side your face before kissing your temple gently.

Just as be was leaning back to go get you some food and water you came forward and held his arm hard.

“No, don’t leave me,”’ you whined.

“I wasn’t going to love, I was just gonna get you food so you can feel better,” he explained you, intertwining your fingers with his and caressing his thumb on your knuckles before giving it a gentle kiss.

“No, don’t leave, I don’t feel good,”

“I know love, that’s why you need food right now your body needs food to have energy.”

“I’m hot,” you whispered, not hearing him as you tugged at your hoodie that you were swearing through, feeling faint.

Breathing heavily you tugged at your hoodie taking you arms out and taking it over your head then chucking it behind you somewhere.

“Love, it’s okay, you’re okay,” he held either side of your face and found you hair tie on the coffee table,taking it putting your hair up in a messy bun.

“I’ll be right back okay?” He said as he got up.

“No…” you whispered getting up shakily to get him to stay. But you swayed and almost fell over. “Y/n, Y/n,” Tom caught you and set you down on the couch,”

“No, I wanna lay down,” you told him as you pushed his hands away, putting your head on the couch pillow and closing your eyes.

“No, love, love you need to sit up,” he said trying to get you to regain a bit of consciousness.

“No, want to sleep, don’t feel good,”

Tom sighed and went jogged to the kitchen to get you some food and water quick as you were actually fainting now.

“Okay here love,” he grabbed your waist and to lift you up and supported your neck with his other hand to get you to sit up.

“Mmhmm,” you mumbled tiredly.

“I know love, I know,” he cooed.

“Here lovie, drink,” he held the water bottle to your lips to drink but you turned your head.

“Baby, you need to drink something,” he insisted.

“Uh uh,” you shook your head as much as you could. “Lovie I know you don’t feel good but it’ll help,” he encouraged.

He started to panic as you weren’t letting him help you and you were deteriorating, face pale and sweaty.

“I feel nauseous, can’t drink,”

“Baby, I know, it will go away if you drink come on,” he put the bottle to your lips again and this time you compiled, taking a sip then pulling away shaking your head.

“Come on love, few more sips,” he encouraged you.

He helped you drink again holding the water bottle to you mouth as you couldn’t move your arms that were draped next to you.

“There you go lovie, you got this,” he smiled.

He grabbed the sandwich he finished for you and held it out for you to take.

But once again you just shook your head because no way you were going to eat a sandwich feeling nauseous.

“Darling-“

“No I can’t please don’t make me,” you cried out, eyes tearing up.

Tom was quick to set the plate down and sit next to you taking you into his arms, holding you.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he cooed.

“You’re alright darling,” he kissed your hair and kept his mouth there.

Rubbing up and down your arms to calm you down. You were so out of it that you started to cry from how awful you felt.

“I’ll never not eat ever again,” you thought to yourself.

“Do you want to lay down a bit then eat?” Tom suggested.

He felt you nod against him and he pulled away before taking laying down with you on top of him cuddling you.

After a good 10 minutes of back scratches and forehead kisses, he thought he’d check in with you again.

“Hey, feeling a bit better?” He talked to you softly next to your ear.

He felt you nod against him, still not having enough energy to form words.

“You feel like you can eat now?”

“Mhm,” you mumbled tiredly.

“Okay let’s sit up okay?” He said as he sat up with you very slowly not to make you dizzy.

You were sitting on his lap, face hiding in the crook of his neck inhaling his comforting scent to calm down.

“Okay darling, here you are,” he grabbed the plate and held the sandwich to feed it to you as you still didn’t have enough energy to move he was moving you around like a rag doll really this whole time.

You carefully took a small bite of the sandwich he made, which you had to admit to yourself was good.

Chewing slowly you grabbed his wrist for another bite and he gave it to you.

“Doing amazing darling, good job,” he praised.

After about 5 to 10 minutes you finally finished the sandwich feeling much better.

“Can we just sit here for a bit? I’m still a bit dizzy,” you asked him.

“Yeah darling, course, whatever you want,” he held you and you wrapped your arms around his waist, finding comfort in his warmth.

Tom was feeling a bit better now that you were able to form a full on sentence without slurring your words together.

“We can get up now,” you said after a while.

“You feeling okay?” He asked still a bit concerned after what had just went down.

“Yeah, a little off but much better,” you answered , your voice still weak.

“I’m so sorry,Tom” you turned to him looking very apologetic and ashamed.

“Y/n, it’s okay, really,” “I was more worried than anything,”

“I know I just, it was a really bad day for me and I was so stressed that I wouldn’t be able to finish everything on time and I just forgot to eat anything really. I wasn’t hungry at all and I just forgot. I’m sorry,”

“Love don’t be sorry, we just need to work on this a bit, that’s all,” he smiled at you.

“I was a scared,” you admitted sheepishly and Toms’ heart tugged in his chest.

“I mean normally when this happens I just feel a bit dizzy but that’s it, I felt awful this time,” you quietly said.

“I know that was a bad one,” he said brows furrowed.

“But it’s alright,” he said cheerfully.

“Your okay now and that’s all that matters,”

“Just please try to work on taking care of yourself. I’ll help you as well, I’ll be there for you every step of the way until you don’t need me anymore,” he leaned in slowly and pushed his lips against yours breathing you in.

“I’ll always need you,” you whispered in between kisses.

Resting you forehead against his, you give him a chaste kiss.

“Okay,” you said excitedly.

“Now tell me all about today,” you told him cuddling into him looking up at him adoringly and kissing his jaw.

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland angst #tom holland fluff #tom holland fic #tom holland imagine #peter parker fluff #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader angst #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x fem #my writing

362 notes · View notes

peterparkers-bad-youtube-apology · 2 years

Note

pool party and frat!richkid tom with ”They’re hitting on you.”

You got it babe! Sorry it took me so long, I just needed a little week off but I am back not and more and more fics are incoming. Hope you enjoy, let me know what you thought, love you xxx

First Mate

67 - “They’re hitting on you.”

Pairing: Frat!Tom x Reader

Warnings: Jealousy

Summary: Tom throws a party with special plans for you and him, unfortunately someone else also has their eye on you

Regular Masterlist

Summer of Love Prompts

Summer of Love Masterlist

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

One of the first things you’d learned about Tom was that he really excelled with coming up with stupid party themes. It would have been a totally useless talent if he didn’t live in a frat, where stupid parties happened every other night. His latest idea was a nautical themed party which he called his ‘Get Nauti’ party, you found it all incredibly cheesy. Nevertheless you agreed to be the first mate of the party, even though you weren’t really sure what that meant. It was just that when Tom looked at you with his big puppy dog eyes you found it nearly impossible to say no.

“(y/n)!” Tom ran out front as soon as he saw your car arrive, he was wearing only a pair of short, teal swim trunks, and a captain’s hat. He looked good, really good, it was always a good day when you got to see Tom parade around shirtless, “There’s my first mate.”

You smiled back at him, “Hi Tom.”

“This is for you,” he placed another matching captain’s hat on your head and looked you up and down. You’d picked up a new bikini for the occasion, white with small blue flowers covering it. You’d felt great when you put it on at the store but his gaze made you nervous and squirmy, “You look great.”

“Thanks,” you adjusted the hat, making sure it was secure on your head, “So what are my duties as first mate?”

“There’s just one actually, you’ve got to help me win the flip cup tournament,” he smiled hopefully at you.

You groaned, “I’ve got to drive home tonight Tom, I can’t get wasted.”

‘You can stay with me,” he grabbed both of your hands, “Please? Haz and I need you, you’re the best flip cup player I know.”

You hummed, pretending to really weigh your options, “Fine, but only because you appealed to my ego.”

He grinned ear to ear, “Thank you darling, I owe you.”

“Yeah you do,” you agreed, “I’m gonna have to steal some clothes for bed though, I didn’t bring anything else.”

“Not even a sweater?” he clicked his tongue and tossed his arm over your shoulders as he walked you inside, “How irresponsible of you.”

“School years over Tom, I don’t have to be responsible again until the fall.”

“Really? Planning on having a totally wild summer love?”

“Yeah, totally,” you laughed, “And guess who has to babysit?”

“Well unfortunately I’m also planning on having a really wild summer so I guess Haz will have to babysit us both,” he waved to Harrison and some other boys as you stepped into the living room, “You got the tournament all set up Haz?”

Harrison nodded, “Yeah, everything’s good to go.”

“Wonderful,” Tom beamed, “Hope you’re both ready to win.”

“It’s about having fun Tom,” Harrison teased, “Let’s not get too competitive.”

“Only losers complain about things being too competitive,” Tom bit back, “You’re with me right darling?”

You nodded, “Always.”

“That’s my girl,” he smiled proudly.

The frat began to fill up quickly, everytime you glanced towards the door more and more people were piling inside. Soon the place was packed and the entire block was lined with cars. Music was pounding and every table, counter, and window sill was lined with beer cans and plastic cups. Tom kept you close to him like always, and Harrison ended up introducing you to some friends he’d invited from work. They were nice enough, but of course Tom was the only one holding your attention.

“Shit,” Tom glanced down at his phone, “Tournaments supposed to start in just a few, I’ve got to slip away for just a moment but I’ll be back alright?”

You nodded, “Yeah, no problem.”

You watched as he grabbed Harrison and they slipped away into the crowd, leaving you alone with Harrison’s friends. You stood awkwardly for a moment, your eyes darting down to the cup of water in your hand. That was when one of the boys, you were pretty sure his name was Hunter, decided to start talking to you.

“So are you and Tom, like, together?” he asked.

“Oh, uh, no,” you flushed, “We’re just friends.”

“Cool,” he nodded, “So you’re single then?” he raised a brow hopefully.

You were tempted to tell him no, because you weren’t interested in getting hit on by him in the least, but you ended up nodding, “Yeah.”

“Cool, me too,” he grinned at you, “I like your hat by the way.”

“Thanks, Tom got it for me,” you pursed your lips, “Hunter right?”

He nodded, “Yeah, and you’re (y/n).”

Hunter was cute enough, a muscular boy with short blond hair and a cocky smile, but he wasn’t nearly as cute as Tom, and you could already tell he wasn’t as charming either.

“That’s me,” you took a long drink of your water, “I should probably go meet up with the boys actually, we’re all on a team together.”

“Too bad, I totally would have had you on my team,” his eyes wandered up and down your body, “Hopefully we’ll end up playing each other.”

“Yeah, hopefully,” you agreed before spinning on your heels.

You scanned the party in search of Tom, Harrison, or any of your other friends. You spotted Harrison just outside of the back door and began pacing towards him. Outside people were gathering around a large folding table where the flip cup tournament would take place, and Tom was attempting to get the first two teams ready to play.

“I can’t believe he set up a whole tournament for this,” you mumbled, crossing your arms as you joined Harrison by the backdoor.

“I think he just did it because he wants to have bragging rights all summer,” Harrison chuckled and glanced down at you, “Couldn’t stay away huh?”

“Actually one of your friend’s started hitting on me,” you explained.

“I see,” he smirked, “Which one?”

“Hunter.”

“Ah, yeah you’re definitely his type,” he glanced back towards Tom, “But I guess he’s not really yours is he?”

You shook your head, “Definitely not.”

Harrison bit his cheek and smiled knowingly to himself, “He’s got us up next, you ready?”

“Come on Haz, you know I’m never the one dragging us down.”

“Tom hasn’t drank anything today, he should be good to go,” Harrison chuckled, waving to Tom as he blew a whistle for the two teams to start.

Harrison’s work friends came to join you both outside as the boys at the table began pounding back their beers. Hunter moved next to you, standing a way too close for someone who just met you.

“They’re not half bad,” he commented as the second players picked up their cups, “Not as good as though.”

“I wouldn’t plan on getting too far tonight,” Harrison smirked, “We’ve got a pretty unbeatable team lined up, right (y/n)?”

“Yeah,” you mumbled, too busy watching Tom to really pay attention to what they were talking about, “Totally.”

Tom was having fun playing referee, but his eyes kept darting back to you and Harrison. He watched as Harrison’s friends gathered around you two and Hunter leaned in towards you. He was way too close for Tom’s liking, so Tom ran back to your little group and cut between you two, setting a hand on your back as he spoke.

“Hope you two are ready, we’re about to be up,” he smiled at you and Harrison.

You grinned, “I think you should be asking yourself that Tommy.”

“Don’t worry about me darling, I’ll be just fine,” he assured you, “Hunter you should take notes, maybe you’ll actually be able to win a round.”

“A round? I’m planning on taking the whole thing,” he smiled cockily.

“Oh I’m sure you’ll give it your best try,” Tom ran the back of his fingers up your spine before his hand left you. One of the teams playing flipped their final cup and began yelling excitedly, Tom was quick to usher you away, “Come on, come on, let’s go.”

“Calm down Tom,” you laughed, “It’s been like five seconds since they won.”

“Yes well I’m very eager,” he pinched your side playfully as you approached the table, “Now get your game face on darling, they need to know how serious we are about this.”

Tom, Harrison, and you all lined up on one side of the table with you in the middle of the two boys.. Things were tense, you were up against one of Tom’s frat brothers and a set of twins from a local sorority. Each of you set your cup on the edge of the table and filled it with your drink of choice. The entire time you were setting up Tom was watching Hunter watch you, Hunter’s eyes hadn’t left you for even a second, and it was starting to get under Tom’s skin.

“Tom,” you nudged his side when you noticed him staring off at the crowd, “You good?”

Everyone was ready to go, just waiting for Tom to blow the whistle and start the game. His cheeks flushed with embarrassment and he cleared his throat before speaking.

“Yeah, sorry,” he blew the whistle around his neck and yelled, “Go!”

Harrison was up first, he downed his drink and managed to flip his cup in two tries, giving you a decent advantage. You matched his speed, downing your drink and flipping your cup on your second try. Tom was faster than chugging than both of you, but he always fell apart when it came to actually flipping the cup. You bit your lip nervously as he began, watching him flip the cup three times before he came close, finally he got it on his fifth try, just a second before the girl across from him landed hers.

“Yay!” you cheered, holding your hand up to high five both of the boys, “I’ve never seen you get it that fast Tom.”

“I’ve been practicing,” he winked and snatched both of your cups off the table and glanced over your shoulder. Hunter was still watching you, and the last thing he wanted was for you to walk back over there so he could hit on you, “You want to help me referee the next round?”

You shook your head, “That’s alright, you have your fun Tom, I’m happy to wait on the sidelines.”

“Ah, come on love, I’ll let you blow the whistle,” he tried to tempt you, dangling the whistle in front of your face.

“Ew, it’s got your mouth germs all over it,” you laughed and pushed it away.

“Oh what? So now you don’t like my mouth germs?” he grinned.

You rolled your eyes, “No, I’m gonna go wait with Haz alright?”

“Alright,” he pursed his lips, watching you return to the crowd with Harrison.

Hunter was on you in a second, congratulating you on your win and cracking shitty jokes. Tom was happy to see that none of his poor attempts to make you laugh seemed to be working, but he still didn’t like watching you two together. He had plans for how the night was going to go. You would win the tournament together and then Tom would kiss you, prompting a long and loving relationship between the two of you that would eventually develop into a marriage with three, maybe four kids, and a few dogs. Hunter didn’t have a place in Tom’s big life plans, and he certainly wasn’t about to make room for him either.

“You want another drink sweetheart?” Hunter peaked down at your empty cup, again standing too close to you.

You fought your urge to roll your eyes at the pet name and shook your head, “I’m good, I don’t want to get too drunk before the tournament ends.”

“Ah, strategizing,” he nodded, “Good plan, unfortunately I don’t have that kind of self control,” he raised his glass towards you.

“Is that something for you to brag about?” you chuckled.

“I think that was more of a confession than a brag,” he bit his cheek, “I don’t think anyone brags about a lack of self control.”

Tom watched as you started to laugh with Hunter, a real, genuine, heartfelt laugh. That was the last straw for him. He clenched his hands at his side and cleared his throat before he went stomping towards you.

“Hey, Hunter, you and your friends are up next alright?” Tom slapped a hand on his back much harder than he needed to, “You should probably start getting ready.”

“Uh, yeah, totally,” he agreed, “We’ll get up there.”

“Good call,” he waved to him as he walked away and stepped in to fill the spot at your side, “Harrison do you mind reffing this round?” he pulled the whistle from his neck and passed it over to Harrison.

“Sure,” Harrison took the whistle from him with a smirk.

You frowned, “Really? You seemed like you were having fun.”

“I was, but I’d rather hang out with you,” he shrugged, watching as Harrison started blowing the whistle and giving orders, “Having fun with the boys huh?”

You shrugged, “Sure, they’re fine.”

“They’re hitting on you,” he blurted out, his cheeks flushing pink as he waited for you to say something, you just seemed confused so he continued, “Well not all of them, but Hunter is.”

“I know, I’m not totally oblivious Tom,” you stated plainly, giving no indication as to whether you enjoyed the boys flirting or not.

“Well are you into it or..?” he pressed.

You locked eyes with him, he was smiling but he seemed annoyed. It almost seemed like jealousy, but it was hard to tell because you’d never seen Tom jealous before. If he was jealous though, it’d mean he felt the same way as you did. The thought made you feel giddy and hopeful, so you decided to play a little coy to see if you could confirm your suspicions.

“Do you two have beef or something?” you cocked your head innocently.

“What? No, of course not,” he rolled his eyes, making it extremely obvious that there was something more there, “Just, you know, might be a little awkward when he finds out you’re going to be sleeping in my bed tonight.”

You laughed, “Well I wasn’t planning on going home with him or anything, but if I was, I probably wouldn’t tell him that.”

“Well if you were planning on seeing him at all he probably wouldn’t like how close we are just in general,” Tom hummed.

You two both fell silent, but the look in his eyes made you feel like he was interrogating you. Your gut told you it was jealousy, but part of you thought that was just wishful thinking on your part, that you were just seeing what you wanted to see.

“Are you?” Tom questioned after you didn’t respond, lifting his brows while he waited for your response.

“Am I what?” you frowned.

“Planning on sleeping with him?” he continued.

“No, I just told you I wasn’t.”

“Good,” he nodded and crossed his arms and turned back to the game.

You knit your brows and dragged your eyes away from him. Hunter’s team blew the other out of the water, having all three cups flipped before they even finished their second. The three boys jumped and cheered and began high fiving one another before returning to the sidelines. As soon as Hunter approached you Tom’s arm slipped around your waist and drew you closer to him.

“Told you we were pretty good right?” Hunter grinned as he approached you.

“That was pretty good,” you nodded in agreement.

Tom wore a tight lipped smile, his eyes narrowed at the boy in front of him, “It was decent.”

Again it seemed like Tom was jealous, but you wanted to be sure that it was really jealousy and not just him being protective or something. So you decided to play it up, just a little bit, hoping he would do or say something that would confirm your suspicions.

“Hey Hunter, I think I’ll take you up on that drink now,” you smiled up at him and pulled Tom’s hand off of your waist.

Tom’s eyes widened just a tad while Hunter’s lit up excitedly, “Cool, let’s go grab a drink then.”

“Come on,” you nodded for him to follow you inside.

You tried to watch Tom watch you but it was hard to keep your eyes on him with Hunter hovering so close to you. You made sure to giggle extra hard at everything he said and set your hand on his arm while he walked you back outside. You spotted Tom right away, he was watching the door, obviously waiting for you to return. He tensed when he spotted your hand on his arm, his eyes narrowed to a glare as you two approached him. He reached out for you as soon as you were near him, setting his arm over your shoulders and drawing you in close.

“How’s your drink?” he hummed.

“Fine,” you swirled your cup and took a small sip, “Did you know Hunter’s on the water polo team?”

“Wow water polo? Really? How fascinating,” he stated plainly.

You were sure he was jealous now, he had to be, there was no other reason he’d be acting so rude to one of Harrison’s friends.

“Tom I need you to take over man,” Harrison came jogging to you, shoving the whistle back into Tom’s hands, “I need a bathroom break before we’re up again.”

Tom’s cheeks tinted pink and he nodded, “Come up with me darling, everyone likes having a pretty judge,” he pulled you away with him before you had a chance to answer, promptly ending your time with Hunter.

You were smiling as he dragged you back over to the table where the game was being plaid. On the table there was a small clipboard with a list of the different teams and rounds that were supposed to be played that night. Tom plucked it off the table as people began lining up for the next round. He started scribbling away on the board, blowing the whistle without even glancing upwards. You frowned and tried to peek at what he was doing.

“Why are you changing things now?” you questioned.

“Well I just thought you might like to play against Hunter’s team next round,” he smiled bitterly at you, “Since you two are just best pals now.”

You frowned, “Best pals? I just grabbed a drink with him.”

“And you said you weren’t planning on sleeping with him,” he scoffed.

“I’m not,” it was hard not for you to smile or laugh, “I’m planning on sleeping in your bed remember?”

He locked eyes with you for a moment, “Good, you can tell him when we play each other, we’re heading up next.”

“Next?” you raised a brow.

He nodded, “Yeah, I’m really eager to go again,” he set the clipboard down and turned his attention to the people playing, “Come on Josh! I know you can drink faster than that!”

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms before you started to cheer for some of the boys with him. It wasn’t like you were trying to piss him off or something, just figure out if he was jealous or not. A wave of guilt hit you and you began to worry that you might have seriously upset him.

“Tom,” you grabbed his arm, “When Harrison gets back I need to talk to you for a second, privately.”

He hummed and shook his head, “No can do love, we’re playing next round.”

“Tom come on, just leave the roster how it is,” you attempted to take the clipboard from his hands but he wouldn’t budge, “People are gonna get mad if you start changing it now.”

“Too bad, my party, my rules,” he smiled smugly at you

“Throwing the party doesn’t give you an excuse to be a dick,” you bit back.

“Oh yeah, I’m being such an asshole,” he rolled his eyes, “I’m not the one who’s been flirting with some douche all night.”

“So?” you knew you should probably drop it there but you didn’t, you wanted to hear him say it out loud, “What’s wrong with a little harmless flirting?”

His eyes narrowed to a glare, “You already know what.”

“No I-”

“Great job guys!” Tom cut you off and clapped Josh on the back as his team one, “Amazing really. Okay next up it’s gonna be me, Haz, and (y/n), against Phil, Travis, and,” he cleared his throat, “Hunter.”

Harrison frowned at him from the sidelines, “Uh, I thought there were still a couple groups ahead of us.”

“Well you know, things change Haz, we’re up now,” he gave a tight lipped smile, “Come on boys, we don’t have all night.”

Everyone that was gathered to watch the game seemed confused, and your face flushed with embarrassment as you stepped up to the side of the table. You were in the middle of Tom and Harrison again, with Hunter standing right across from you. He winked at you as he topped off his cup.

“Hope you aren’t too crushed when we beat you sweetheart,” he purred.

“Shove off Hunter,” Tom scoffed, “Everybody ready?”

“No, everyone’s still filling their cups Tom, calm down,” Harrison looked him over and raised a brow in concern, “You alright mate?”

“Yes, I just want to win,” he huffed.

“Right…” Harrison glanced at you and then back to Tom, “You just seem a little tense.”

“I’m good,” he replied dryly.

“We’re all good over here,” Hunter spoke up again once his teammates had both topped off their cups, “So we’re ready whenever you guys are.”

“Great. Haz are you ready?”

Harrison nodded, “Sure.”

Tom blew the whistle without another word, and watched silently as Harrison chugged his glass. He drank faster than the boy across from him, but took three tries to flip his cup, so you were only a second ahead when you lifted the glass to your mouth. You chugged as fast as you could and managed to flip your cup on your first try. Tom was able to start far before their final teammate, and while he chugged fast, you could tell right away he was going to slip up when it came to actually flipping his cup. He always did when he got too competitive or drunk, he’d tense up and end up flipping the cup way too hard. Normally it was funny, but he seemed genuinely angry now, and you felt awful. You watched as he flipped his cup again and again, he wasn’t even close by the time the boy across from him finished chugging his glass, losing any advantage you had.

They ended up beating you, right away they started to cheer and tease. Harrison high fived them all but Tom didn’t. Normally he was a good sport, but tonight he had no interest. He just passed the whistle over to Josh and declared him the new referee before disappearing inside the house.

“Tommy…” you sighed as you watched him leave, debating whether you should go after him. Of course you wanted to, but you were worried he wouldn’t want you around if he was upset with you.

“You did great,” Hunter complimented, “Too bad Tom blew your lead, but good for me so…”

You rolled your eyes and shoved right past him to go find Tom. He was retreating up the stairs when you entered the house, undoubtedly heading for his bedroom. You followed after, pushing through the crowd as quickly as you could.

“Tom?” you rapped gently at his door, “Can I come in?”

For a second it was quiet, then he swung the door open, “Look I’m not feeling great (y/n), I’m just gonna call it a night okay?”

“Tom please don’t, you were super excited about this party, you shouldn’t miss it,” you tried tugging him out of his room, “Come on, I’ll go home if you don’t want to see me.”

He furrowed his brows, “I don’t want you to go home I-” he stopped himself mid sentence and cocked his head, “I’m not upset with you (y/n).”

You blushed again, “It’s okay if you are Tom.”

“I’m not, of course I’m not,” he rubbed the back of his neck, “Tonight’s just not going how I thought it would.”

“Well, do you want to talk about it?” you tried stepping closer, but he didn’t open the door for you.

He stared at you for a minute, his mouth hanging open before he finally nodded, “Yeah, kind of. I’m sorry I snapped at you back there, you’re a grown woman, you can flirt with whoever you want, I just…” he trailed off and sighed, “I just get protective.”

“Just protective?” you pushed, “It kind of seemed like maybe that wasn’t all you were feeling…”

He let out another deep sigh, his eyes darting away from you as he spoke, “I mean what do you want me to say here (y/n)? I think I made it kind of obvious.”

You were both quiet for a moment. He had nothing to be jealous about, and you wanted to tell him that, but actually spitting out was harder than you thought it would be.

“Maybe we could just sit down for a minute?” you suggested softly.

He nodded and opened his door the rest of the way so you could follow him inside. Sitting on his night stand he had two water bottles and a couple of snacks.

“I wanted to be ready in case we both got hammered,” he explained as he sat on the edge of his bed, “So I brought some stuff up here earlier.”

“That’s really sweet,” you smiled as you sat beside him, “Tom I’m really sorry.”

“I don’t want you to be sorry (y/n),” he groaned, “You’re my best friend, I just want you to be happy okay?”

“I know, but I shouldn’t have done that…” you bit your cheek, “I shouldn’t have flirted with him, I didn’t realize it would make you so upset. I was just trying to figure out if you were, you know, jealous.”

“I was very jealous,” he popped his knuckles nervously, “I had this whole plan for tonight. I wanted to have that stupid tournament so we could win and then I could kiss you and it’d be this whole big thing,” he chuckled, “It sounds sort of stupid when I say it out loud, I was just trying to be romantic.”

“That’s really cute Tom, I would have liked that a lot,” you fiddled with your hands nervously, “I hope you know that I’m not into him, like, at all. I was just trying to figure out if you were jealous or not so I would know if you felt the same way as I do.”

“(y/n) I am totally crazy about you,” he slipped a hand over yours.

“I’m crazy about you too,” you squeezed his hand and your eyes darted to his lips, you wanted to kiss him but you weren’t sure if you should, “So what now?”

His tongue darted out over his lips while he stared down at yours. Without another word he set his hand on your cheek and leaned in towards you. He pressed his lips to yours gingerly, they were soft and he was gentle. He tasted like cheap beer, something that would have disgusted you if he were anyone else, but you were so happy just to be kissing him you didn’t care.

Finally you separated, Tom hovered close though, keeping his lips just centimeters from yours, “I want you to be my girlfriend, you know, if that’s cool with you.”

“That depends,” you bit your lips, “Is there gonna be more kissing involved?”

He nodded and gave you another quick peck, “Loads.”

“Well in that case, I’m in,” you wrapped your arms around his neck to draw him even closer, “You wanna go be the annoying couple that makes out in the middle of the party?”

He hummed, “As fun as that sounds, I think I’d rather spend the rest of the night up here, just you and me.”

“That sounds nice. We could throw on a movie, snuggle a little,” you agreed, “I still wanna steal some of your clothes though, it gets chilly up here.”

“Sounds perfect,” he pecked your lips again with a smile, “I’ll grab you a sweater, but keep the hat on, I think it’s sexy.”

You laughed as he rose from the bed, “Alright, whatever floats your boat captain.”

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Taglist:

@spideyssunshine @niallsvirgosun @roseke @outshineallthestars @namoreno @thevery-firstpage @collywobbl @zspideyy @emistrash @tomsirishgirlx @andreagf956 @peachyafshawn @agbspidey @sleepybesson @nj01 @misshale21 @prancerrparkerr @raajali3 @ellabellabus07 @xoxomaterialgirl @mayal0pez @belovedholland @minjix @blankspaceblankday @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah @graciexmarvel @secretsthathauntus @lnmp89 @negasonic-teenage-asshole @rednights @mcushvft @maytemurillo @s-we-e-t-t-ea @akalilexanna @liltimmyst @gloomynigvts

481 notes · View notes

amber-michaelson · 2 years

Text

His Darkside

Tom holland x reader

Summary: all is well till his celebrity life gets in his way and he's about to lose his love but changes things very fast

Read at own risk

Warning: swearing, yandere

yn pov

“have a nice day” i smiled handing the costumer her coffee “next please” i called and smiled as i saw a familiar face “tom holland 4 times this week people are gonna start thinking you have a crush on me” i giggled “well your smile just brightens my dreadful day” he smiled leaning onto the counter “oh really do you want my smile and your regular” i asked “yes please with a chocolate muffin” he pleads and watches as i get his order ready “hows filming going” i ask making small talk since he was the last costumer the rest already sorted and chatting not caring that TOM HOLLAND was in the shop ‘must not be movie people’ “its good good but tiring” he mumbled and smiled as i handed him his order “well thats 15 dollars please” i said and wiped the counter where i spilled “keep the change” he smiled and handed me 30 and i was about to protest but he shook his head and turned around but turned back around and stared at me “can i take you out” he blurted out “like a date” i questioned tilting my head “like a date” he murmured nodding and grabbed a pen and paper out of his pocket and scribbled down his number “you just keep a pen and paper on you” i laughed “well when a fan wants a autograph” he said handing me the paper i smiled at the little note he wrote ‘if a star fell for every time i thought of you, the sky would be empty’ it was kinda weird “ill make sure to text you later” he said smiling before leaving “bye” i murmur to myself ‘i just got asked out by a celebrity’.

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎(time skip)▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎

tom pov

i looked at my phone as i waited for her i choose a casual date spot so i didn’t make her uncomfortable with a fancy restaurant “hey tom” i looked up as i heard her and looked her up and down “you look beautiful” i say standing up and pulled her chair out for her “such a gentle men” she giggled and sat down “anything for a beautiful woman” i smiled and sat back down “how was your day” i asked and sipped my water "it was very slow after you left" she murmured gazing over the menu "what would you like yn" I mumbled waving over a waiter "ill just have fd and ff please" she smiled at me and I order mine "your orders will be right out" 'this is gonna be great'.

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎Time skip▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎

I walked her to her door as we chatted "I had a really fun time hopefully we can do this again" she said smiling "we differently should we should have a movie date at my house we order pizza wear baggy clothes and binge Netflix" I smiled imagining everything for out next date "sounds perfect" she murmured and looked at her door then me "I guess ill see you tomorrow with your regular" yn giggled "with that beautiful smile please" I smiled with puppy dog eyes "sure thing" she whispered and kissed my cheek before heading inside 'she's just perfect'.

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎Skip 8 months▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎

Yn pov

The silent tears run down my cheeks I can't do this anymore its not right for me or him the media is right I'm not good enough for me "babe I'm home" I quickly wipe my tears away and put a smile on my face it isn't his fault be doesn't deserve the hate I bring "hey baby" he greet and hugged me "hey welcome home" I freak as my voice sounds shaky "whats wrong" he asks pulling back and staring at me I couldn't do it anymore "we need to talk" I murmured and walked to the couch him trailing behind me "did I do something wrong" I shook my head sitting down "your making me scared what's wrong" he murmured grazing his hand up my arm I grabbed it and held it in my lap im gonna miss him "tom...." I paused thinking of the right way to say this "I can't do this anymore and I'm really sor-" "what do you mean couldn't do it do what" he asked pulling his hand away with a little force "tom our relationship has to end" I murmur looking down as the tears started again "why why are you doing this" he muttered "you deserve someone better" I whisper and yelped as he forced me to face him "who said something" he asked raising his voice which he has never done infront of me "why would you ever think you were never good enough for me" he said softening his voice and let go of my face "I never thought I was good enough for you but I wished I was when you asked me out I thought it was a dream but now reality is catching up and I can't do it anymore" I cried looking away from him "what do you mean reality is catching up" he asked but I couldn't answer "what do you mean" he shouted standing up I looked at him in fear and moved away "answer me" he yelled threateningly "I can't tom" I said putting my hands up as a shield "why cant you tell me why" he screamed and picked up the vase that layed on the table and threw it at the wall I was shaking in fear and got up and started running up to our room but he was following in toe "are you cheating on me is that why you wanna end our relationship" he screamed and threw a picture frame that landed next to my head, I shot into the room and was about to close the door put his foot got into the way "tom please you have to understand" I pleaded and moved away from him my cheeks wet with tears "understand that your trying to leave me without a explanation yn" me muttered and grabbed the bat we kept by the bed incase of a robbery "tom please don't" I begged and gasped as I hit the wall "you don't understand one thing yn and it is that you are mine and you belong to me and me alone you can never leave" he yelled and raised the bat and hit me knocking me out.

Tom pov

I stared down at her unconscious body and dropped the bat to carry her into our basement where I will keep her till she's ready to come out again and it doesn't matter how long it takes "sweet dreams babe" I murmur as I finished cuffing her to the bed "now lets check that little phone of yours" I muttered and went to the living room where her phone sat on the table I sat down and grabbed it and turn it on the lock screen was a picture of her and Tessa when she first met her and her password was our anniversary I looked on her social media's and watts-app but nothing she was loyal "then why did you want to break up" I murmured to myself I see she had a opened app and clicked on it my eyes widening "what the fuck" I muttered and scrolled down the page it was hate comments and theories of me just using her I threw her phone into the wall breaking it "well yn you don't have to deal with that anymore because you won't me able to leave me" I muttered to myself.

Bonus

"It is the 10th year anniversary since tom hollands girlfriend has gone missing, he was spotted at their favorite restaurant picking up his and hers favorite meal and his commitment still stands" the news reporter says "and I think that's enough tv for today babe" tom grabs the remote turning off the TV kissing the cheek of the emotionless girl as their three kids whispered to their mothers growing belly with their 4th child she lost her freedom and tom lost her love but he will never let her leave never till her last breath she is his and his alone

My other actor works

Check out my other works

#tom holland #x reader #yandere x reader #yandere celebrity x reader #yandere celebrity #tom holland x reader #yandere tom holland #dark tom holland #celebrity x reader #angst #x reader angst #tom holland x reader angst #celebrity x reader angst

312 notes · View notes

buckybarnesandmarvel · 1 year

Text

𝐎𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞

pairings: tom holland x reader

warnings: mostly fluff :)

summary: Congrats on 600 followers bb 💜💜💜May I request a 💜 with you don’t need to save me, but would you run away with me? and our beloved Tom? 🥺💜

or, in other words, you have a bad day and Tom is the only person you want

a/n: i loved writing this! thank you so much lia darling! ♡♡

************************************************************************

Today had been shit. There was no other way to describe it. You had lost track of time this morning and ended up being late to your meeting, resulting in your boss yelling at you in front of everyone, turning the rest of the day sour. You kept your head down and worked silently, but apparently, you couldn't even do that right, your dickhead of a boss pointing out all of your mistakes in your draft.

As you unlocked the door to your apartment, all you could think about was a nice shower, a hot takeout and your comfy covers. Placing you bag and keys on the counter, you headed straight for the bathroom. The hot water from the shower eased the tension in your shoulders and back as you let out your frustrations of the day though tears, the salty drops mixing with the water cascading down your body. You stayed there for a few more minutes before getting out, steam engulfing the bathroom.

You changed into sweats and one of Tom’s hoodies that he had left last time he came over and got comfortable under your duvet. Your food had arrived in the time you were in the shower and you ate while your laptop played a random movie from Netflix. But, you couldn’t focus on that at the moment. Your thoughts raced around and you wanted to get out. To go out. Anywhere. Just not here, where your mind was able to come up with a-million-and-one things to make your day worse.

You reached for your phone and called Tom, your boyfriend picking up just before the third ring.

“Hi, Tommy,” you breathed out.

“You okay, darling?” Tom’s voice was immediately laced with concern when he heard your tone.

“Yeah... no,” you sighed, “Shit day.”

“How can I help, love?”

“You don’t need to save me, but would you run away with me?”

“Our place?”

“15 minutes?”

“I’ll be there in 10.”

************************************************************************

i haven’t written for tom in so long. feedback is appreciated :)

135 notes · View notes

pbnjparker · 2 years

Note

hey!! i got an idea for a request bc i love fluffy/jealous tom so here we go!:)

could you please write an established relationship imagine please where the reader is on tour with her group/band and obvs they have to do a lot of dancing, and tom is front row at one of the shows and he gets jealous of the background dancers, so his mates who are at the concert with him record his reactions and post them so y/n and the fans can see?

thank you!!

jealousy, jealousy

an: hii! thank you so much for requesting this <3 im sorry it took me so long to get to it fksjfs, i promise it was in my drafts 😭😭 anyways, hopefully you enjoy it!! (IMPLIED SMUT)

pairing: tom holland x singer!reader

"So do you care to tell me why all the videos that the boys sent me are you frowning during our dancing number?" Tom immediately went red, "I wasn't frowning, I was acting." He retaliated, pressing a soft kiss on your temple.

You laughed, "Haz said that you said and I quote, those guys are all asses." You read off your phone, glancing up at Tom, "Haz is an ass." He groans, grabbing your phone out of your hands, "I think it's pretty cute."

"Me being jealous or me denying it all?" He smiles, "Ah, so you admit your jealousy?" You stick your tongue out at Tom, "I refuse to speak on this topic without the presence of a lawyer." You giggled at his argument, "Oh and you better thank Haz." You said walking away from him.

"For what?" He asked trailing behind you, "He posted the video on Instagram." You handed him your phone and let the video play out, "Oh, I'm gonna beat him up when we see him later." He groaned,

"So you admit it!" You teased again, "What do you want? You're so hot and those guys don't deserve to touch you the way, I do." He groans bringing you in for a kiss, "I know, how 'bout you show me?" You whispered against his lips, "Oh, that can definitely be arranged."

tagging <3: @darlingparker @sunshinehollandd @gingerparker @belovedholland @justapurrcat @seolaseoul @silkscream @intoyoudaniel

369 notes · View notes

sleepyhollands · 2 years

Note

I really like your vampire!Harry blurb! While we’re on the topic of Halloween AUs, could you possibly do one with demon!Tom where Y/N is still subconsciously a little uneasy about their new relationship and has a nightmare about it?

when she was awake, it was easy for y/n to push away anxious thoughts. she knew many of them were silly— tom wouldn’t take advantage of her or attack her in her sleep. but she didn’t have much control when it came to her subconscious and what it chose to display in her head at night, which is why she was currently fisting the sheets as she dreamed, brow furrowed and lips downturned as she visualized tom’s figure in her mind.

while tom didn’t exactly need to sleep, it was a human habit he quite enjoyed partaking in. he often wondered why more of his kind didn’t— it was relaxing, and definitely provided extra energy for more… strenuous activities. so he was puzzled to find himself kicked awake by the girl next to him, dream-clouded confusion morphing into concern as he heard tiny whimpers coming from the opposite side of the bed.

it didn’t take tom long to realize y/n was having a nightmare, seeing as inducing bad dreams was literally written in his job description. but the demon had no experience in the field of rescuing a person from one. acting on pure instinct, he gently shook the distressed girl awake, speaking softly in an attempt to calm her.

“darling,” he whispered as her eyes snapped open in a blind panic, “hey, ’s just me. ’s just me, breathe.” tom thought she might relax a bit after waking, but y/n was really shaken up. “you’re trembling, love. what’s got you so worked up, hm?”

y/n kept her eyes screwed shut, afraid to look up at the face of the creature hovering over her. her bottom lip wobbled as she avoided the question, hiccuping when she felt the soft caress of a warm palm along the side of her face and the pad of a thumb swiping at her cascading tears. the girl wanted to feel soothed by the touch, but the residual fear from her nightmare halted any chance of her calming down.

after a few moments, tom frowned. “baby… need you to talk to me, okay? i can’t help if i don’t know.”

y/n swallowed, her boyfriend just barely registering it in the moonlight peeking through the bedroom window. a minute passed, and just as tom was about to ask again, the girl opened her eyes, then her mouth.

“don’t want you to hate me.”

tom’s brow furrowed. “what?”

“please don’t be mad,” she whispered, eyes pleading as much as her words.

“’m not mad, i’m worried. you can tell me anything, y/n. c’mon, ’s okay.”

y/n took a shaky breath before speaking again. “i h-had a dream that you… hurt me. you said you didn’t want me anymore and you couldn’t let me just go on with my life knowing w-what you are and so you came after me and— and—”

“woah, darling, hey,” tom rushed out, quieting his love’s ever-quickening rant. “that’s never gonna happen, okay? hey, are you listening?” his hand guided y/n’s face to look at him again. “i know this is still new for us, and learning the truth about me was a shock, but i’m never going to hurt you. there’s nothing you could do to make me want you any less or even think about laying a hand on you. d’ you understand?”

y/n sniffled, nodding. “’m sorry, tommy.”

tom shook his head, pulling her against his chest, the human’s back lifting off the mattress as the demon held her close to him. “got nothing to be sorry for. i shouldn’t have sprung this on you so soon— should’ve waited until you were a little more comfortable with us, hm? just… didn’t want to have to lie, y‘ know? i’m sorry it’s scared you like this, love.”

“no, i’m glad you told me. it’s just a lot, and i’m processing. i’ll adjust. promise.”

this eased tom enough for the time being, but he knew they were going to have to discuss this further later. “we’ll talk about it in the morning, m’kay? for now, just let me hold you.”

they stayed that way for a few minutes, finding solace in each other’s warmth, until tom felt a soft snore resonate against the crook of his neck. breathing a sigh of relief, he laid the girl back down against the pillows, careful not to make any sudden moves. getting into a sitting position next to her, he ran a knuckle along the bridge of her nose, and decided that maybe he’d stay awake the rest of the night. just in case.

taglist: @quaksonhehe @catparkers @definitely-not-black-cat @fahsey @hotforharrison @devotion @caswinchester2000 @lmaotshollandd @jackiehollanderr @thereallcarmwn @nervousdadmode @amii-nyc @tomshufflepuff @solarxmoonchild @skitmix @spidey-holland-96 @ifilosemyselfagain @pterprkr @auggie2000 @voguesir @namtaeh @bleh-bleh-blehs @tom-hlover @writetorace @sssupernova @parkers-gal @yourgoldengirls @becicamina @zspideyy @fairydxll @hunnybunimdun @capital-koreasofia @lolooo22 @ellabellabus07 @atoris-fantasy @hypnotized-so-mesmerized @cozysamwinchester @casualdreamerdreamer

80 notes · View notes

p3terparker · 11 months

Text

𝗯𝗮𝗯𝘆 𝗺𝗲 - 𝗽𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗿

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: peter wants to be babied.

𝘄/𝗰: 0.5k

𝗮/𝗻: hey guys!! it has been nearly a year since i’ve last written and i just wanna say i’m sorry for leaving for so long </3 please do bear with me, this may not be that good judging by how long it’s been since i’ve last written. i hope you enjoy though! also for everyone who has requested something, i haven’t forgotten about you! i’m getting to those soon :)

“please hold me”

it’s nearly 1am and you’re sprawled out on your bed watching some random movie that was playing on tv. you’ve been up waiting for hours for peter to come by after patrol, and now he’s finally here sneaking in through your window.

“are you okay baby? you finished up pretty late” you question softly as you take off his mask and brush his hair out of his face.

“i’m fine. i just want you to hold me” he says tiredly and practically puts all of his body weight on you, causing you both to fall back onto your bed.

adjusting yourselves to get more comfortable, you’re now laid back on your pillow as you hug peters large frame while his face is nuzzled in your chest.

you two lay silently as you rub his back until you decide to break the silence.

“you know, you’re still in your suit. you’re getting my bed dirty.”

“you just want me to take it off so you can see me naked”

“you’re done” you say before attempting to push him off of you. peter quickly caught your hands before you could even try.

“how did you–”

“i’m spider-man, baby”

“clearly” you chuckle, referring to him still being in his suit.

“since you want to see me naked so bad, i’ll take it off” he groans as if it’s the hardest task in the world. “happy now?”

“very. now come lay back down”

you don’t have to tell him twice. he quickly gets back into the position you two were in before and enjoys the warmth and comfort you bring him.

“you’re so perfect petey, did you know that?”

“mmm” he groans into as he nuzzles his face further into your chest, enjoying the sudden compliment.

“i mean seriously. you’re so smart, so strong, so caring and so funny. you being handsome is just the cherry on top”

“stoppp” he whines. “i’m blushing.”

“okay fine, i’m done”

“nooo, i didn’t mean it! keep going please” he cries as he lifts up his head to look at you.

“you are truly such a big baby”

“i’m your big baby. now continue please, i love being praised by you.”

how could you deny him?

“i love how cute you are. you have the prettiest brown hair and eyes. your face is perfectly sculpted too. i don’t know how i got blessed with the most handsome boyfriend in the world.”

“mmm” he groans again in complete ecstasy. hearing your compliments is like music to his ears.

“you’re so cute, i just want to squish your cheeks” you say before lifting his head up slightly and squishing his cheeks together.

you cannot believe he’s letting you baby him like this.

“aww petey, you’re so adorable”

“thank you” he says with a pink tint on his cheeks as he rests his head on your chest again, suddenly feeling sleepy.

you two sat in silence for a few more minutes and he peacefully drifted to sleep.

you were definitely going to make fun of him for tonight in the morning.

14K notes · View notes

waitimcomingtoo · 26 days

Text

Just to Learn That You Never Cared

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Synopsis: always leaving class together to go fight crime leads people to think you’re dating when in reality you’re barely even friends. That is, until you agree to fake a relationship to keep your secret life a secret

requested/idea by @usoppsstar

Masterlist

“Oh, hey. Your girlfriend left this in class.” One of Peter’s classmates said as he tossed Peter a hoodie.

“Oh. Thanks.” Peter said before realizing what the person had said. He turned the hoodie over in his hands and recognized it as yours. His face warmed up in a blush when he realized you had just been mistaken for his girlfriend. He shoved the hoodie into his bag and wondered if he should tell you or not.

Peter saw you later that night on a rooftop you frequented often. You were in your suit, as was he, but had your mask sitting beside you. You were munching on a bag of chips and wordlessly extended them to him when he landed on the rooftop beside you. He smiled graciously and took a few before sitting down next to you. Your knees were touching but neither of you moved away.

“You left this in physics, dingus.” Peter said and handed you your hoodie.

“Oh, thanks. We had to run out of there so fast to save that lady. I must’ve left it behind.” You smiled gratefully and pulled it over your head. Peter felt bad that his high tech suit had built in heaters and your homemade suit was probably leaving you freezing every night. He wanted to suggest sharing his warmth, but he didn’t want to overstep.

“I know. Thank God she called the police on those kids for selling lemonade without a permit. I’m really glad we left a test to go witness that heinous crime.”

“It’s not all bad. We did get to see the cops arrest her for wasting their time by making a fake police report, which is always satisfying. And the kids gave us free lemonade. But I think calling it “homemade” was bullshit. I know Minute Maid when I taste it.” You replied, making Peter chuckle.

“You’re right. Both those things were enjoyable.” Peter agreed. “But I don’t know how much more of this I can take. I feel like we have to leave class every other day.”

“I know. Why did we have to pick a college in such a Karen ridden neighborhood?” You sighed.

“Because we wanted to go to the good school with the good science program. We should’ve known the neighborhood would be full of bored housewives who call the police whenever they have a minor complaint. It was our own hubris.”

“It was.” You chuckled and said looked over at him. You exchanged soft smiles before you looked over at the city horizon. Peters eyes never left you and he cleared his throat to get your attention.

“So, uh, my aunt and I were gonna get Chinese food later. At the place that got shut down for being a front for money laundering but that was really just a front for a second Chinese food chain.”

“Oh, I love that place.”

“Yeah. It’s great.” He nodded. “Anyways, you should totally come-“

Peter was cut off by the police radio he wired to his phone going off. He rolled his eyes and checked what the alert was.

“Damn it. Robbery at the bakery on 9th.” He told you.

“Lowkey, I’d do the same. Their cream puffs made me cream.” You said as you put your mask back on.

“Haha, yeah.” Peter chuckled. “Wait, what?”

“You should get some sleep. I’ll handle the robbery. But I’ll catch you tomorrow, Parker. Get home safe.” You saluted him before falling backwards off the building.

“I love you too.” Peter sighed.

“Did you say something?” You asked and popped back up.

“No.” Peter quickly lied.

“Okay. Well, see you tomorrow.” You waved to him and disappeared again. Peter let out another sigh before swinging home.

The next day, you ran after one of your classmates once class was let out.

“Hey, Carly. I emailed you my notes from the class you missed.” You told her.

“Thank you so much. You’re a life saver.” She replied. “Oh, and could you tell your boyfriend that band practice is in the gym today?”

“Yeah, sure. No problem.” You agreed. She was about to walk away when you realized what she had said.

“Wait, what am I saying?” You wondered. “Who’s my boyfriend?”

“You know. That guy with the prescription shoes.” Carly answered. You tilted your head in confusion until you realized you knew exactly who she was talking about.

“Wait, Peter?” You laughed in surprise. You expected her to laugh too and reveal she was just kidding but she looked completely serious.

“Oh, right. Peter. Why do I always think his name is Timmy?” Carly wondered.

“Because he looks like a Timmy. He gets it all the time.” You waved your hand. “And his shoes are not prescription. He just bought women’s platform shoes because he wanted to be taller and didn’t think anyone could tell.”

“We can.” Carly mumbled.

“I know.” You agreed. “But, I’m getting off topic. Timmy is not my boyfriend. I mean, Peter is not my boyfriend.”

“Whatever label you guys use, can you tell him that wind ensemble is meeting in the gym instead of the choir room? The sopranos kicked us out again to practice or do drugs or something.” Carly explained. You furrowed your eyebrows at her and tried to figure out if she was joking or not.

“The label? I’m so lost. Who told you that Peter’s my boyfriend?”

“Nobody told me.” She shrugged. “Everyone just knows that you guys are a couple.”

“Well how would they know something that isn’t true?” You asked and folded your arms.

“I mean, it’s not like you guys try to keep it a secret. Between all the whispering and staying close by each other. Plus you’re always sneaking out of class together or showing up late. And if one of you is absent, the other always is too. It’s been like that since high school. People just put two and two together I guess. Why, did you want to to be secret?”

“I didn’t want it to be anything. We’re not even dating.” You insisted and felt like you were going crazy.

“You don’t have to deny it.” Carly laughed. “I know feelings are weird and gross and stuff and you’ve never been the relationship type, but I think this guy is good for you. He brings something out in you. I don’t know. But you guys are cute. I love seeing the nice loser and assertive pretty girl troupe in real life.”

“Oh. Well, thank you.” You calmed down momentarily and smiled a little. Carly walked away and your smile quickly faded when you remembered what she had said. You looked around the hallway and saw another student holding an instrument.

“Hey. Band nerd.” You called out to him.

“Me?” He asked and pointed to himself.

“Yes, you. You had to let go of your saxophone case to point to yourself. Have you seen my boyfriend today?” You asked him.

“Peter? I haven’t seen him since yesterday in-“

“That sentence better not end with “wind ensemble” or I’m gonna lose it.”

“It was wind ensemble.” He said quickly.

“I’m leaving.” You shook your head and walked away from him. You pulled out your phone and went straight to your schools “campus sweethearts” page on instagram. Sure enough, there was a picture of you and Peter sitting next to each other right at the top of the page. You had your head thrown back laughing at something he was saying and he was looking at you fondly. You let out a shocked gasp and before walking out into the courtyard to look for Peter. You spotted him on a bench and smiled.

“Yes. Thank you, small campus”. You pumped your fist and went to sit next to him.

“Oh, hi. I was just thinking about you-“

“Someone is spreading a horrible rumor about you.” You cut him off.

“Oh no.” Peter frowned. “What is it? Is it bad?”

“Horrible.” You shook your head. “Peter, they’re saying you’re in wind ensemble.”

“Oh, I am.” Peter shrugged.

“Huh?”

“I play the clarinet . See. Clarinet.” Peter said and lifted up his little black clarinet case.

“Huh?” You said louder.

“I used to play in high school, pre-bite but post 9/11. I saw a flyer for orchestra on campus so I joined.”

“And you didn’t tell me?” You practically shouted. Peter knew you weren’t happy but felt strangely honored that you were so upset over him not telling you something about her personal life.

“Because I know how you feel about band nerds.” He replied. “And you and I don’t really talk about non-work related things. I didn’t think you’d care.”

“Are you kidding me? Of course I care.” You insisted. “My rumored boyfriend has been in wind ensemble this whole time and I didn’t even know?”

“Wait, rumored boyfriend? Who, me?” Peter asked in surprised.

“So you didn’t know about this either?”

“No. I mean, someone did refer to you as my girlfriend the other day but I thought it was just an accident. People think you and me are dating?” Peter asked and tried not to look as pleased as he felt.

“Apparently. I’ve had multiple people refer to you as my boyfriend today. And look. We’re on the campus couples Instagram page.” You said and held up your phone.

“Ew. We have one of those?” Peter grimaced and took your phone to see the picture better.

“Yeah. I honestly think the principle runs it.” You replied. Peter was quiet as he stared at the picture for a while.

“What?” You wondered.

“Nothing. This just a cute picture of us. And I think the only picture of us.” He said with a shy smile. You frowned and looked at the picture again before realizing he was right.

“Carly said people think we’re dating since we’re always sneaking off together.” You told him. Peter thought out this for a minute and then made another connection.

“Ohhhh.” He said and nodded his head.

“What?”

“This explains why the boys congratulated me on the bus back to New York after the Washington monument trip for losing my virginity at a historic landmark.”

“You lost your virginity on that trip? To who?” You whispered harshly and felt jealousy burning through your veins.

“You, apparently.” He laughed. “You and I disappeared to get the glowy alien egg bomb thing back and I guess everyone assumed we were off desecrating a national monument.”

“Oh my God. That was like 3 years ago.” You realized. “People have thought we were dating this whole time? We need to put a stop to this.”

“Yeah. You’re right. Or…” Peter trailed off and gave you a look.

“Or?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Or, we lean into it.” He suggested. “We let people think it. We encourage it, even.”

“Why would we do that?”

“People have been suspicious about where we go and what we’re doing since high school. We can only fake so many illnesses and I ran out of grandparents to lie about the death of by junior year. So if people already made up a reason, maybe we should let them think that. We don’t have to go out of our way to confirm it but we can keep the assumption going to keep them from finding out what we’re really doing.”

“So you think we should let people think we’re dating so they stop wondering about what we’re always off doing?”

“That’s exactly what I just said, yes.” Peter nodded.

“Hey. Be nicer to your fake girlfriend.” You said and smacked his arm.

“I’m sorry. I will.” Peter blushed and rubbed his arm. You felt bad for hitting him and wrapped both arms around him to rub them up and down. He smiled softly at you and you sat in comfortable silence for a moment.

“You play the clarinet?” You asked after a minute.

“Squidward made it look so cool.” Peter shrugged.

“Did he?” You asked, making Peter laugh.

“No.” He admitted.

The next day, you and Peter walked to school together with the understanding that from then on out, you were going to play the part of a happy couple. You weren’t going to go around announcing it to everyone or anything. You just needed to convince the few that didn’t already believe the rumor and confirm things for the ones who did believe it.

“You ready for this?” You asked Peter as you stepped into campus.

“I think so. Maybe we should hold hands or something. You know, since people think we’re dating.” Peter suggested and tried to make it sound like it didn’t matter to him.

“I guess so.” You shrugged and held out your hand. Peter eagerly took your hand and took note of the way it fit in his like it was made for him.

“This is weird.” You whispered to him, popping his bubble.

“Why? Are my hands sweaty?” He panicked.

“No. Just really, really hot.” You told him. “It’s just weird that nobody seems to care that we’re holding hands right now.”

“I mean, we are just two random people with almost no social presence.”

“That’s true. I guess I just thought people would care more.” You admitted as you looked around the campus. No one was phased by you and Peter, but he was too busy enjoying the moment to realize it.

“Are you disappointed?” He asked you.

“Yeah. I wore my best bra because I thought I’d be getting more attention today.” You frowned and adjusted the strap of your bra.

“It’s okay. I’ll take one for the team and stare at your boobs.” Peter assured you.

“Aw. Thank you.” You gushed and gave his hand a squeeze.

You got to your physics class and sat together at your usual lab table. Peter looked around the classroom while you carried on as usual.

“Maybe I should put my arm around you. You know, to really convince people.” Peter suggested with a shy blush on his face.

“Is that really something people do?” You genuinely wondered. “I feel like I never see couples with their arms around each other.”

“Actually, I don’t think I have either. But let’s try it anyway.” He said and wrapped an arm around you. You scooted closer to him so that you could comfortably lean into him. You quickly realized you didn’t hate it and let out a content sigh.

“Hm.” Peter made a little noise at the back of his throat.

“What?” You asked him.

“Our height difference makes this hurt my shoulder.” He leaned over to whisper in your ear.

“Then move your arm.” You whispered back.

“I can’t. I just wrapped it around you. It’ll look weird if I immediately take it off.” Peter said as he covered behind him to see who was looking.

“Or, consider this. Nobody in this entire city, and dare I say world, cares where your arm is right now.” You whispered harshly.

“Fine. I’ll remove it. But I have to give a reason.” He told you before loudly clearing his throat.

“Ah. Sorry, babe. I can’t cuddle you right now. My arm is sore from band practice.” Peter said loud enough for everyone in the classroom to hear him. You hung your head in shame and heard people murmuring about his strange comment.

“Oh God.” Peter gulped. “People are looking. They’re gonna know something is up. I have to put it back.”

He went to put his arm back around you but you stopped him before he could draw any more attention to the two of you.

“Just do this.” You whispered to him and pulled his stool closer to you and turned towards him a little. Your knees and were touching and you were now facing each other.

“That’s it? No one can even see this.” Peter said in disappointment. He thought being your fake boyfriend would bring you guys closer but you were sitting the way you always sat in class.

“It’s not about what people can see. It’s about proximity.” You explained. “We’re sitting closer together than anyone else is without being egregious about it. It’s a simple touch. If we’ve been together as long as people think we have, we don’t need to be wrapped around each other all the time. A simple touch to let the other know we’re there is all we need.”

Peter was silent as he stared at you following your explanation. He stared for so long that you felt yourself blush under the eye contact.

“What?” You asked him.

“I like the way you explain things.” Peter said simply. You quickly looked down so he wouldn’t see the effect that comment had on you and took a moment to collect yourself.

“It’s just something I thought of.” You shrugged.

“I know. But I never would have thought of that. Especially not as naturally as it did for you. You’re so quick.”

“Thank you.” You laughed shyly and found yourself unable to look away from him. Peter opened his mouth to say something to keep the momentum rolling but his phone interrupted him.

“Shoot. Sus-tivity on the b bridge.” He whispered.

“What the hell does that mean?” You asked at full volume.

“It means there’s suspicious activity on the Brooklyn bridge.” He rolled his eyes. “We have to act fast so I didn’t have time to say the whole thing.”

“But you just said the whole thing. And the abridged version. So it took twice as long.”

“Shh.” He waved his hand. “We gotta go.”

You reluctantly collected your things and took Peter’s hand to pull him out of his seat. Peter followed you out the classroom but the teacher cleared her throat when you walked by.

“And where are you two going?” She asked. You and Peter exchanged looks as the class snickered and murmured their theories about what exactly you were heading off to do.

“I’m sorry, Dr. Pepper. My girlfriend and I have to leave class unexpectedly. Please excuse us. It’s urgent.” Peter’s said politely.

“I bet it’s urgent, Parker.” A boy snickered, making serval classmates laugh.

“Gross.” You wrinkled your noses and looked at the boys in disdain.

“Fine.” The teacher sighed. “The only reason I don’t write you two up for skipping so often is because you somehow have the best grades in the class. Go on. Just get the homework done.”

“We will.” You assured her before leaving the room with Peter. Peter noticed that you didn’t drop his hand even when you were alone in the hallway.

“Hey, you know that teachers name is Dr. Zhang and not Dr. Pepper, right?” You asked him.

“Oh my God.” Peter gasped. “Is it really? I’ve emailed her so many times and said “Dear Dr. Pepper”. We have to drop out.”

You laughed and held his hand the rest of the way out of the building.

That night, Peter laid in his bed with his phone held close to his face. He had been trying to figure out what to text you to let you know he had been thinking of you.

“I had fun fighting crime with you today” He wrote out. He read it over before scrunching his nose.

“No. Too cringe. She is not gonna fall in love with someone that says “fighting crime”. I’m not Paw Patrol.” He said like it was obvious. He deleted his text and thought of another one.

“I had a good time today, we make a good team” He wrote out instead. He read it a few times until he found issue with it.

“Oh, you had a good time stopping those break dancers that were obstructing that Sbarro? That’ll catch her attention.” Peter said sarcastically and deleted the text.

“have a goodnight :)” He typed out and then shook his head.

“No. Wayyyy too horny.” He sighed and deleted it again.

“night” He wrote out and read it a few times.

“This is good. I can work with this.” He nodded. He was about to workshop it when a text from you popped up.

“pick a color” It said. Peters heart skipped a beat at the vague message and replied with the first color that popped into his head.

“blue”

“thank u” You wrote back within seconds. Peters heart stopped pounded and the disappointment that the conversation was over settled in. After all these years of fighting crime together, you two never really managed to make it past the coworkers stage. He was desperate for more but never knew how to get there.

“no homo but I had fun fighting crime with you today” You suddenly texted again. A smile tugged at Peter’s lips and he touched his as if it were your face.

“ok paw patrol” He wrote back. Back in your room, you were laughing at his text and trying to think of a witty reply.

“ur mad bc you know I’m the chase 🐶” You texted him.

“if ur the Chase then who am I?”

“plssss ur such a marshall” You wrote back.

“but that’s the third most important dog :(“ Peter replied.

“well yes but he’s cute and wears red so the little paw patrol shoe fits” You answered. A blush painted Peters cheeks over you calling him cute but he didn’t want to read too much into it.

“Im wearing red right now😳” He texted back.

“oh I bet you are” You answered, making him laugh. He kept the conversation going for about an hour before duty called once again. Peter groaned and put his suit on before swinging to the scene of the crime. He met you there and stopped the crime before stopping on a nearby rooftop to rest.

“These burglars aren’t very considerate of our sleep schedules. Who robs a Jersey Mikes after midnight? Or, like, ever?” Peter huffed as he tugged his mask off.

“I know. They’re always at inconvenient times. I was in the middle of painting my nails.”

“Can I see?” He asked in a soft voice. You pulled your gloves off and held out your hand for him to see.

“Look. Blue. But I only got half way through before Mike’s was targeted.”

“It’s okay. They still look pretty.” Peter complimented you with a soft smile.

“Thanks. You picked a good color.” You replied.

“What do you mean?” He frowned.

“I told you to pick a color. This is why.” You explained and held out your hand again. His eyes lit up at this new information and he took your hand to see your nails closer.

“You let me chose your nail color?” He smiled fondly.

“Well I didn’t know what to chose so I thought I’d ask the audience.” You shrugged and felt shy all of the sudden.

“Oh. And I’m the target audience, huh?” Peter smirked and turned towards you.

“I never said target.” You teased him and shoved him shoulder.

“I must be hearing things, then.” He shrugged as you both smiled.

“Yeah. Must be.” You said in a soft voice as you stared into his eyes. Peter gulped before making a bold move and taking your hand again under the guise of looking at your nails.

“Look at you. You even got my favorite shade.” He noted.

“You like “Eating For Blue”?” You pretended to gasp.

“Is that really the name of the color?” He laughed.

“Uh huh. It was apart of Essie’s baby fever collection. I almost chose “All In Blue Time” but that’s one tends to get little air bubbles and they give me agida. And I used to have “A Dream Come Blue” but it rolled under the sink so it belongs to the dust bunnies now.” You shrugged as you checked out your nails.

“Wow. This is all new information to me. So, are all nail polish colors named after puns and wordplay?” He asked as he stared into your eyes. He didn’t really care, but he was finally getting somewhere with you and didn’t want it to end.

“In my experience, yes. Not always color related wordplay but always something that makes you go yeah, I guess this shade of beige is what the word “ladylike” would be as a color.”

“This is blowing my mind right now.” Peter chuckled.

“You mean blue-ing your mind.” You corrected and tapped the side of your head.

“I think you inhaled too many of those fumes. Because that was not funny.” Peter said through a laugh.

“What?” You pretended to be offended. “You’re literally laughing right now. I’m so funny.”

“You are.” Peter admitted when his laughter died down. You stared into eyes for a minute before smiling.

“Is that what you rumored saw in me?” You asked him.

“Probably.” He chuckled. “I also heard a rumor that I think you’re really pretty. Like, the prettiest girl I was ever rumored to have allegedly seen.”

“Now you’re the one who’s looney from the fumes because that’s a straight up lie. I know you’ve seen prettier girls because I was standing right next to you when Anne Hathaway left that diner.” You said without making eye contact with him. Things were moving a little too fast and you needed it hit the brakes for a second.

“Oh, yeah. You’re right.” Peter forced a laugh and awkwardly looked over at the cityscape when he realized you were politely telling him to pull back.

“But I appreciate it.” You said after a beat of silence.

“Of course. Sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking saying that.” He laughed nervously. “I was just getting caught up in the fake dating. We’ve been doing it for so long that it felt real.”

“We only started this morning.” You reminded him.

“Right. Well, it’s late. I’m gonna go home.” He said quickly and stood up. He had just blown that and needed to leave as quickly as possible.

“Okay. Goodnight. See you at school.” You called after him. Peter swung home with tears in his eyes and went straight to bed, missing your text about having fun fighting another crime.

The next day at school, Peter decided to start over and push last night from his mind. He played the part of your boyfriend to the best of his abilities and opened every door, pulled out every seat, and carried ever book for you all day long. Then he did it the next day, and the day after that. He kept his mouth shut about his feelings day in and day out no matter how painful it was getting. You and Peter had finally moved past the coworker stage and become real friends so he didn’t want to sabotage it all by telling you that he spent his days wishing for more.

“What are your plans tonight?” You asked him one day as you walked out of class together.

“My aunt is going out with her friends so I was probably gonna watch a movie on my couch. But on my laptop with my earbuds in. Likely in my boxers. Likely with an entire package of Twizzlers. Why?”

“Well I was gonna suggest that we hang out but you sound booked.”

“Really? You want to hang out?” Peter asked with much more enthusiasm than he intended.

“If you want. I’m not doing anything as exciting as boxers and Twizzlers.”

“I would love to. I’ll put on pants for you. I promise.”

“Sounds good.” You laughed. “Text me your address, okay?”

“Sure. Or you could walk with me now. Unless you’re tired of me and need a break before we hang out.” Peter suggested as you left campus together.

“It’s funny you say that. I was just telling my mom the other day that I never get tired of you.” You said casually.

“You..you don’t?” Peter’s face heated up as he followed you down the sidewalk.

“I don’t. I usually need a break from other people if we’ve been together awhile but it’s different with you. It doesn’t feel like I’m using my social battery if that makes sense.“

“It makes sense.” He smiled shyly as your hands bumped against each others. He was about to make a bold move and take your hand despite no one being around but you suddenly moved it to hit the crosswalk button.

Back at Peter’s apartment, he awkwardly gave you a tour and wished he had picked up his clothes before leaving the house that morning. You didn’t seem to mind the socks and boxers strewn across his room because you were too focused on all the little things he kept on his shelves. You picked up a picture frame of your freshman year high school class that had you and Peter seated right next to each other. Your friendship had only just begun so you often forgot how long you knew him for.

“So this is your room.” You smiled and put the picture back.

“Yup. This is where the magic happens.” Peter said and immediately cringed at himself.

“Oh really?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah. This is where I practice magic. Wanna see?” He asked and picked up a deck of cards. You laughed and went over to take one.

“Is your card the ace of spades?” He asked.

“Queen of hearts.” You snorted and turned the card around.

“You’re the queen of my heart.” He whispered.

“Did you say something?” You asked as you looked at all his Legos.

“I asked what you wanted to do tonight.” He lied.

“I don’t know. We have the place to ourselves. We could do something rated R.” You said with a coy smile.

“Like what?” Peter gulped.

“Watch an R rated movie, you perv. Your aunt isn’t here to stop you.”

“You remember me telling you that I’m not allowed to watch R rated movies in the living room anymore?” Peter blushed at you remembering something he had randomly told you long ago.

“Are you referring to the time you watched Tusk at full volume while she had her friends from work over for the first time? How could I forget?”

“In my defense, I didn’t know what the movie was about. And I didn’t think her friends were gonna come into the living room and see that guy getting turned into a walrus.”

“Yeah, the title and cover art gave no indication that the movie would end that way. But that’s not a bad idea actually. Let’s watch something scary.”

“Okay.” Peter agreed and followed you out into the living room. He turned off the lights and got some snacks while you picked a movie. He hated scary movies but he was not about to tell you that. Instead, he sat on the couch beside you as a respectful distance and handed you a bag of chips. As the movie went on, you got closer and closer to each other. Peter had never really seen you scared before but you were practically in his lap just 40 minutes into the movie. You reached into the bag of chips at the same time as Peter and your fingers touched. You both froze and looked at each other as your faces heated up.

“Shit. I’m not wearing a condom.” Peter sighed, making you yank your hand out and laugh.

“You’re stupid.” You laughed and turned back to the movie just as a jump-scare happened. You screamed and jumped closer to Peter.

“This is so scary. Why did I pick this movie?” You asked as you drew your knees up and leaned into his side.

“Yeah, same.” He replied, not even listening. He couldn’t hear anything over the sound of his heart pounding in his ears. You were cuddled into his side with your head on his shoulder and knees in his lap with a blanket drawn up to your nose. He knew you were only cuddling him because you were scared but it didn’t even matter at that point. The movie went quiet for a minute and then made a loud sound, sending you to burry your face into Peter’s neck.

“Tell me when it’s safe to come out.” You whispered into his ear. Peter gulped and wrapped an arm around you to fully protect you from the movie.

“I will.” He said in a soft voice. You peaked your head out a few minutes later but stayed nestled into Peter’s side. You realized his arm was around you and smiled a little.

“Oh, this isn’t so bad.” You shrugged as the main character got eaten alive.

“I don’t understand you.” Peter chuckled and looked down at you. You laughed as well as you looked into his eyes. He was about to say something when another sharp sound from the movie caused you to jump.

“Hold my hand.” You blurted and grabbed his hand. Peter happily accepted and clasped your hand before holding it under his chin. You stayed in that position for a long time and watched the movie. You were both so focused on the screen that you didn’t hear May opening the front door and coming in.

“Hey. I’m home.” She said, making you both scream.

“Oh, hi May.” Peter greeted while he realized it was just her.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Parker. I’m-“

“I know.” She smirked. “I’ll just be in my room. But, Peter?”

“Yeah?”

“No going in your room with the door closed, okay? I’m home. And we have thin walls. Just keep that in mind.” She said, making Peter turn bright red.

“Got it, May.” He mumbled. She winked at you and disappeared into her bedroom.

“You told your aunt we were dating?” You whispered to Peter in confusion.

“No.” Peter answered honestly. “I guess she just assumed we were.”

“Wow. She’s just like the kids at school.” You shook your head. “I don’t get it. Why does everyone think we’re dating?”

“I mean…” Peter trailed off and looked down at your clasped hands. You hadn’t realized you were still cuddling and quickly jumped off of him. Peters heart sank and the longer he sat in the absence of your body heat, the more upset he felt.

“You just jumped off of me like I was sharp.” He said without looking at you.

“I didn’t want your aunt to see us cuddling and think-“

“And think what?” He snapped, cutting you off. You gutted your head back in surprise and let out a nervous laugh.

“Woah. What’s going on with you? She already knows about your secret life. We don’t have any reason to pretend we’re dating in front of her.”

Peter stared at you for a long time as the word “pretend” cut into him like a knife. Every time he thought you were going somewhere, he was reminded that it didn’t actually mean anything to you.

“Yeah. You’re right.” He mumbled and looked at the movie again. You kept your eyes on him and felt guilty. You had so much to say to him but you felt unable to speak.

“Peter-“

“I don’t think we should pretend to date anymore.” He blurted, cutting you off once again. Your eyebrows went up in surprise and you got a sick feeling in your tummy that you had just ruined something really important.

“What? Why not?”

“It’s stupid. No one even cares anymore.” He shrugged. “We don’t have to fake a breakup or anything but I don’t want to hold hands or play along anymore. I’m done.”

“What changed?” You asked in a soft voice. He was still looking at the movie while you were fully turned to face him.

“Nothing changed. That’s the problem.” He said and angrily got off the couch. You quickly caught his hand and he stopped. He looked down at the ground and let out a sigh. He knew it wasn’t fair to be mad at you if he hadn’t told you what was wrong. He slowly turned around and looked at you.

“Five years ago, you showed up to the same robbery at an all night CVS that I was at and I realized we knew each other from AP Spanish class because I had asked you earlier that day how to conjugate “poner” and you said “pusiste” and I laughed because I thought you were joking but you weren’t and then that night you heard me tell the burglar that he better“pusiste” the money back into the register.“ Peter began.

“Okay. Wow. That was a really long sentence.” You laughed softly. “But I remember that. I laughed and told you that you better remember that for the test.”

“You did. That’s how I knew it was you.” He smiled at the memory. “I failed that test, by the way. I still can’t conjugate “poner.” And I still think it means “boner” even though I know it’s a verb. But anyway, that night, I couldn’t sleep because I was so excited to have met you. Even though we technically already knew each other, that night put us in each others radars. I could not believe that I had met my match. You’re into science like me and sarcastic like me and you understand this side of my life because you have the same side. But despite running into each other on patrol almost nightly and seeing each other around school, I barely got you to notice me. I don’t think you even knew my name until we ended up going the same college. You called me “Timmy” all throughout high school.”

“You seriously look like one. It’s uncanny. I don’t know what it is.”

“I thought things would change when I found out we were going to the same college. The campus is so small I figured there’s no way we wouldn’t become friends. But even then, we hardly ever talked and when we did it was always about work. I didn’t even know where you lived until last semester.”

“I remember that too. The first night we really bonded was when you fell off that roof because you were trying to show me how to do a backflip.”

“Yeah, I’ve never been able to do a backflip.” He admitted. “I only said I could because you said you always wanted to learn how to do one and I assumed given my abilities I’d be able to do one if I just followed my body. But I busted my ass and you were kind enough to sneak me through your window and patch me up with some Scooby Doo bandaids.”

“It was all I had.” You shrugged.

“And you gave it to me anyway. Because you’re kind and compassionate and I’m just…I’m crazy about you.” Peter finally admitted. “I was so excited when we started hanging out more this semester but it always ended up crushing me when I remembered that we just doing it to keep people from finding out the truth. I really, really love our friendship and if I’m ruining it all by saying all this then at least I can die with it off my chest.”

“Wait, now I’m confused. Are you dying?”

“Maybe.” He shrugged. “It feels like I am every time you and I start to get close and then I remember this is all pretend for you.”

“So it’s not pretend for you?” You asked quietly. Peter stared into your heads for a minute and then shook his head.

“No. I was never pretending. I like you.” He told you. Your facial expression didn’t change as you stared back at him. Peter was really starting to panic until a smile tugged at your lips.

“Sit back down.” You told him.

“I’m sat.” He said and rushed it sit down. You nestled back into his side and laid your head down on his shoulder. Peter smiled and rested his head on top of yours, finally pleased with the way a conversation with you went. You both turned your attention back to the movie just in time for it to end.

“Hm.” You huffed. “That was supposed to be us symbolically finishing the movie as a real couple but it appears we’ve already arrived at the credits. Now what?”

“We could watch Tusk.” Peter suggested at the same time you said “We could make out.”

“I never actually saw Tusk but I always wanted to.” You gasped and hit his arm with excitement.

“Or we could do your thing.” Peter forced a laugh and tried not to sound as desperate as he felt.

“Let me see if I can find it.” You said as you scrolled through the streaming services on his TV.

“Or we could do your thing.”

Tag List 🏷️

@thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling

@tom-hollands-wifey

@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings

@imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101

@peterparkoure

@justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr

@emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland

@sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @eridanuswave

@solarxmoonchild @canyouevencauseicant

@quaksonhehe @lovelessdagger

@thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie

@maybemona

@alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom

@pandaxnienke

@itsemohours

@freakofmusic25 @tomholland85

@olixerwxxd @leilanixx

@whereismytelephone @so-very-asleep @white-wolf1940

@spideyspeaches @hihiweezing

@mathletemadison

@dhtomholland @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @prancerrparkerr

@hallecarey1 @adayasgeorgia @blackwidowisthebest @imawhoreforu

@ciarahollands

@nellabellaa @pinklxmonade @boogywoogywoogy

#peter parker x reader #peter parker fake dating #peter parker angst #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #peter parker fluff #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfiction #peter parker x you #tom holland x y/n #peter parker x y/n

1K notes · View notes

friendlyneighborhoods-spiderman · 1 year

Text

The forgotten child

Pairing's : fem! reader x peter parker, tony stark daughter! x tony stark, tony stark daughter! x peter parker

Warnings: really sad angst, jealousy, daddy issues, neglect, lmk if i missed anything! :)

Summary: dad of the year award? surely isn't going too him

a/n : I know the gif doesn't really match the theme of this story I just really liked it. I did not reread this so please ignore any grammar mistakes. Also, I'm not sure if i wrote a panic attack correctly but I wrote based on what their like for me. hope you all enjoy!

you really tried not to become the forgotten child, always tried you're very hardest to live up to your father expectations, trying to make him proud in hope's he'd show some form of attention.

always studying to get straight a's even through countless anxiety attacks from fear of failing and disappointing your father.

all you ever wanted was reassurance, and if you ever got lucky enough a "You did a good job" after getting a high score on a test.

but it never came, it would forever be something you longed to hear. he would usually just mumble a small, quiet "congrats" as his mind stayed focused on his work and his eyes stuck to the blueprint laid out on the table Infront of him.

you always tried you're best not to feel jealous whenever your father held morgan, you had no ressentiment towards morgan whatsoever, in fact she was the one that kept you smiling most days. although you couldn't help but feel your heart tighten from jealousy as you watched them have daddy daughter time

you really did try you're best to be happy for your younger sister, but you couldn't ignore that aching feeling. all you wanted was the attention she had that your heart ached so desperately for, but it never came despite your countless attempts.

you we're astound to hear a new avenger had been recruited, you always enjoyed meeting new people. mainly because they gave you attention they didn't even know you craved.

you always seeked to see the best in people, no matter what the circumstances we're. including peter parker, there was nothing wrong with him, he wasn't a bad person in fact quite a good one, and if you weren't so envious of him you possibly could have been friends with the boy. but you watched how peter and your father clicked so easily becoming like father and son.

it made the knots in your stomach tighten as you watched them spend time together, it made you feel as if something was wrong with you, like maybe if you tried harder or changed, he'd give you the attention you deserved.

your mother, pepper always said he loved you just as much as he loved morgan or even peter, but you knew the truth as much as you ignored it you knew. but oh, how you wish he did.

"Mom, I'm home" you called out knowing if father was home, he wouldn't answer you. after not receiving an answer, you decided to look through the house in search of your mother, after a couple of minutes searching you still hadn't found her and decided she probably went out and took morgan with her. you heard talking but it sounded like your father, and peter?? "what's peter doing here?" you wondered. you decided to peak you're head through the door and saw peter and tony standing with their backs faced away from you, working on some upgrades for peter's suit.

"you're a pretty great kid peter" tony told him as he smiled at him patting his shoulder. a wave of jealously hit your chest as you watched them, your throat tightening. "Thank you, Mr. stark," peter smiled cheekily as your fingers clenched into a fist at your side.

"Becoming like my son."

once those words left Tony's lips, your mouth went dry, your head aching as you backed away from the door as quietly as possible, you're breathing picking up rapidly. you quickly made your way to your room, tears forming in your eyes, you walked into your room and shut the door softly as your hands started shaking as you paced around your room quickly, trying to stop the tears from rolling down your cheeks. you never liked crying, it made you feel weak.

you're breathing came out in heavy gasp as you struggled to breathe. you leaned against the wall coughing as you squeezed your eyes shut as you tried to stop the words from replaying in your mind.

"Becoming like my son" continuously echoed through your head as soft sobs left your lips, you didn't want to feel this way, envious of what your father and peter had. it's not peter's fault about what your father feels about you so why hold him accountable. he'll never love you, at least not like he loves peter. you can't figure out why? you always tried you're best to impress him, but nothing seemed to be enough for him, it's like he didn't even care about your existence.

you stumbled over to your bed, taking deep breathes as your body grew exhausted from crying. you plopped down on your bed tiredly as you snuggled up against your blanket that was where your pillows we're supposed to be, you grabbed a pillow and hugged it too sleep.

you didn't want to put the blame on peter because it wasn't his fault, but a little piece of your heart blamed peter parker.

a/n: CLIFFHANGER!?!? I decided to leave it for now because I haven't come up with an ending that I thought fit the way I wanted so if you guys have ideas, please let me know. reblog's are highly appreciated, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed!

4K notes · View notes

lnfours · 1 year

Text

summer loving (three) ⎸ t.h

⌙ au: based on the book and tv show ‘the summer i turned pretty’ by jenny han. childhood friends to lovers

⌙ wc: 2.8k

⌙ warnings: swearing, a little hint of jealousy, shawn being cute and nervous bc he’s baby, sam is slowly falling head over heels.

⌙ pairing: tom holland x fem!reader

masterlist ⎸ chapter two ⎸ chapter four ⎸ listen

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

the next morning, you woke up to the sun shining in through the curtains in your bedroom. you groaned as you turned onto your side, grabbing your phone from the nightstand. you looked at the time and sighed loudly, your head falling back into the pillow.

7:15am.

you closed your eyes, but was interrupted by a soft buzz coming from your phone. you grabbed it, squinting at the text that had popped up on the screen.

tom can we talk?

you rolled your eyes, throwing your phone back down onto the bed as you threw the covers off your body. you grabbed a simple sundress out of the closet, something nikki had bought for your first day of being a big sister. you slipped it over your head, tugging it down the rest of your body before you fixed your hair. you applied a bit of concealer under your eyes to hide the bags and some mascara, not really feeling like doing a whole face of makeup. you grabbed the tube of lipgloss, putting some onto your lips and looking yourself over in the mirror. you were content with the way you looked, slipping on a pair of sandals before you made your way down the steps.

you walked into the kitchen to be met with tom who was fixing himself a cup of tea. you didn’t say anything to him as you moved around him, trying to find something you could have for breakfast.

“i’m sorry for the way i acted the other day,” he said, “it really isn’t my business about what you do.”

you nodded, “it isn’t.”

he bit down on his lower lip nervously, but watched as you struggled to grab the box of cereal on the top shelf. he placed a hand on your lower back, reaching above you to grab the box. you held your breath, ignoring the feeling of your skin being on fire where he’d touched you. you grabbed the box from his hands, quickly pulling yourself together.

“thanks.”

he hummed back as you sat down at the island, trying to enjoy your breakfast before everyone else decided they were hungry this morning.

“i mean it, y’know,” he said, bringing up the topic again, “wasn’t my place.”

you nodded, “i got it, tom. thanks.”

“for what it’s worth, i think you’d be a great big sister for the girls.”

you looked up at him as he raised his mug at you in a ‘cheers’ motion, walking out of the room. you groaned, placing your head on your forearm. this was all so complicated, why was tom holland the most complicated boy you’d ever met?

but then, you thought about shawn. he was handsome, and he was really nice to you. he seemed like a genuinely nice guy. and to be honest, you got sick of waiting around to see if tom was going to say anything about the fact that the both of you almost kissed. you knew you needed to move on if tom wasn’t going to act on anything, and maybe it was worth giving shawn a shot.

then you realized you didn’t get his number, which made you mentally facepalm yourself. of course you didn’t.

“good morning to the deb’s newest big sister.” sam smiled as he walked into the kitchen.

you smiled, but rolled your eyes playfully at him, “morning, sam.”

“excited?” he asked and you shrugged back at him.

“in a way, yes. but in a way, no.”

“understandable.”

you sighed as you looked at the time on your phone: 7:45am. you had to be at the country club by 8:30. you looked out the window at the water, smiling at the waves crashing against the shore.

“god, i wish i could surf right now.”

“surf when you get back,” sam suggested, “you and i can do a little night surf action, y’know? like the old days.”

your nose scrunched up, “the last time we went night surfing you almost drowned.”

“yeah, well, i’m more coordinated now.”

you nodded, “i’ll think about it.”

he nodded back at you, taking a spoon full of your cereal. you gasped at him, letting out a chuckle as he smiled back at you.

“theif! get your own!”

“sorry, it’s better when it’s someone else’s.”

you rolled your eyes, “yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“think of it as payback for the amount of times you’ve stolen my food.”

you tilted your head, “touché.”

“want me to drop you off at the club? i gotta head into town with austin and paddy anyway, gotta pick something up for my mom.”

you nodded, “sure, let me grab my things.”

he nodded back at you as made your way back up the stairs, he watched you. he watched the way your hair fell around your face, the way you looked in the sundress his mom had gotten you, the way it complimented your eyes.

fuck, he was done for.

he jumped as harry walked up behind him, putting a hand on his shoulder, “when are you gonna get the balls to tell her you like her?”

“mmm… never. because you wanna know why? because tom would have my head on a pitchfork.”

“tom?” harry scoffed, “our brother tom who’s been hanging around with alicia garnett? trust me mate, he’s not worried about you and y/n.”

“hold on, you said he’s been hanging around with alicia?”

harry nodded, “yeah, told me not to tell anyone but if he can’t even stick around to hang with us then it leaves me no choice.”

sam folded his arms, “but he almost kissed y/n the first day on the beach… when did he say this?”

“dunno, couple days ago. guessing since he knows he can’t get through to y/n he’s gonna move on.” harry shrugged.

you had walked downstairs at that point, only hearing what harry had said. you felt a little bit of your heart break off, sighing softly before you entered the room.

you put on your best fake smile, “morning harry.”

“hey,” harry smiled, “ready to go back to the deb scene?”

“kind of,” you smiled, “i want to be a big sister for a girl who was like me and was kinda lonely because she didn’t fit in, y’know?”

both boys nodded as austin and paddy came into the room. you grabbed your things as everyone appeared to be ready. once everyone was at the door, you smiled as you yelled out, “shotgun!”

“what?! no way.” austin yelled back as the two of you took off towards the car. you had beat him to the door, smiling as he rolled his eyes before hopping into the backseat of the jeep. sam climbed into the drivers side, harry and paddy joining austin in the back.

“yo, y/n, can you play that song by justin timberlake?” harry said. you furrowed your eyebrows, but scrolled through the playlist before clicking on ‘summer love’ by justin timberlake. the boys cheered and you laughed as sam made the drive towards the country club.

the rest of the way, you complied to the boys’ song requests no matter how weird they were.

you turned the radio down as sam pulled up to the doors, putting the car in park. you grabbed your things and hopped out. austin climbed his way through the center console, taking your spot.

“jesus, grave robber much?”

“you move your meat, you lose your seat?”

“where do the two of you get these old people phrases?” harry asked. you let out a laugh.

“our dad,” you smiled, “thanks for the ride, sam.”

“‘course, do you need a ride when it’s over?”

you nodded, “would you mind?”

“of course not.”

“it’s over at 1,” you smiled and he nodded, “thanks sam.”

you waved to your boys, all of them waving back before pulling away. you took a deep breath in as you walked towards the doors, following the signs for the deb room as you made your way up the steps.

“hi, are you carol?” you asked the older blonde woman. she smiled at you.

“you must be y/n! yes, i’m carol. nikki’s told me a lot about you.”

you let out a nervous laugh, “good things, i hope.”

she let out a laugh, “of course. thank you for doing this, i really appreciate it.”

“of course.”

she led you to a table with an empty seat. the girls at the table looking at you as carol introduced you.

“girls, this is y/n. she’s going to be your big sister. she was a deb when she was your age, she knows what she’s doing if you have any questions.”

you smiled back at carol who made her way to the front of the room as you took a seat. the girls smiled and introduced themselves, the girl next to you nervously smiling at you.

“hi, i’m aaliyah.”

“hi, it’s nice to meet you.” you smiled and she smiled back. she looked familiar, her facial features looking similar to someone you had met, but you couldn’t put a finger on it.

you both got to know each other a little bit as she grew a liking to you. the two of you ended up having a lot in common, which was easier for her to open up to you. you felt confident that maybe you had the whole big sister thing down.

after the first class was over, you made your way down the stairs. aaliyah caught up with you.

“hey, y/n. i’ve got a question.”

you turned around as you smiled, “what’s up, aaliyah?”

“could you help me with what dress i wear? i know my moms going to want something over the top, but i feel like you and i have similar taste.”

you laughed, “sure. let me know when you go shopping, okay?”

she nodded as the both of you stood outside. a black jeep pulled up as the drivers side opened. around the back walked the same boy with floppy brown curls, this time he was wearing a white t-shirt that hugged his biceps deliciously and a pair of blue jeans. your eyebrows shot up as he pushed his sunglasses into his hair.

“oh, hey y/n.” his eyes met yours and you smiled.

“hey, shawn.”

“wait, you two know each other?” aaliyah asked. you nodded, eyes still locked with shawn’s.

well, that explains why she looked so familiar. she was his younger sister.

“yeah, tarzan attacked her with kisses on the beach the other day.”

aaliyah laughed, shaking her head, “classic tarzan.”

she grabbed the keys from shawn as she opened the drivers side door, “i’m driving home, by the way. have fun talking to your girlfriend, i’ll be in the car.”

you smiled as she gave you a small wave, the jeep door closing behind her. you smiled at shawn as he playfully rolled his eyes.

“so, the deb huh?”

you nodded, “yeah, i was a deb when i was younger. my friend’s mom asked me to be a big this year.”

he nodded, “that’s really nice of you.”

“yeah, i wanted to be the big sister the group loves. i had that when i was younger, so…”

you hadn’t realized you trailed off, too busy looking into his brown eyes. he nodded, head motioning to the car that was parked behind him.

“seems that you’ve met my younger sister.”

you smiled, letting out a soft chuckle, “yeah, she’s great.”

“shes definitely something.”

“i can hear you, shawn!” she called from the rolled down window on the passenger’s side.

“good.”

you laughed at the sibling banter, knowing how it felt to have a sibling. you and austin had your fair share of banters. you knew how bothersome it was to have an older brother sometimes.

“hey, uhm, i’m playing at this gig tonight if you want to swing by, check it out,” he smiled, “you don’t have to, obviously, but if you want to i can give you the details.”

you nodded, “yeah, no, i’d love to.”

“sweet, mind if i, uh, get your number?” he stuttered, clearly a little nervous as he handed you his phone with a new contact page pulled up. you smiled as you grabbed it from him, ignoring how it felt to feel his fingers brush against yours.

“just text me when and where and i’ll be there.”

he smiled, “cool.”

“shawn! hurry up! i promised sarah i’d be back by 2!” aaliyah called back to him.

“yeah, yeah, i’m coming,” he called back before turning to look at you, fishing the sunglasses out of his curls before slipping them on his face, “i’ll text you.”

you smiled, waving bye to the siblings as you took a deep breath. maybe he was what you needed to get your mind off of tom and the fact that he was apparently seeing alicia. if tom could walk around and act like nothing happened between the two of you, so could you.

you were pulled out of your thoughts as sam pulled up, smiling at you, “your chariot awaits, princess.”

you laughed, climbing into the passenger seat, “why thank you, my prince.”

you didn’t see the way he blushed at you as you buckled in, your mind going back to the thought of shawn as he drove back to the house. your phone buzzed as sam pulled into the driveway.

882-092-4440 hey, it’s shawn :) the gig starts at 8, but i’m heading into town at 7. if you want, i can pick you up?

you smiled as your fingers hovered over the keyboard.

y/n that’d be great :) 982 south street, big blue house, you really can’t miss it

shawn cool, i’ll pick you up at 6:30

y/n sounds good!

you didn’t realize that you had been smiling down at your phone. austin shot you a weird look from the kitchen island as he leaned over your phone, causing you to immediately pull your phone closer to your chest before locking it.

“who’re you talking to?”

“no one.”

“bull,” he smirked, “come on, who is it?”

you sighed, rolling your eyes playfully, “this guy i met the other day. his sister is a deb. i’m going to his gig tonight.”

he raised his eyebrows, “a musician? wow, you really do love those artsy men, don’t ya?”

you shoved his shoulder playfully, “shut up.”

you made your way up the steps, too busy finding kat’s name in your messages to realize you accidentally bumped into someone’s shoulder. you apologized, looking up and meeting a pair of blue eyes. upon further realization, you took in her blonde hair, the way her makeup was done, her white tank top over top of a pink bikini top. she was pretty. scratch that, she was practically drop dead gorgeous.

“no, it’s my fault, didn’t even see you,” she waved you off, giving you a soft laugh, “alicia, by the way. you must be y/n, i heard a lot about you from the boys.”

you felt a pit in your stomach as you had finally come face to face with alicia. how could you ever compete with her? she was something straight out of a magazine.

“yeah,” you chuckled, “nice to meet you.”

“you too,” she smiled, “i gotta get going, but i’ll see you.”

“yeah, see you.” you watched as she continued her decent down the stairs. you tried to let it roll off your back as you continued up the steps, but when you spotted tom in the hallway as he walked out of his bedroom, you couldn’t help but feel a ting in your chest.

you hadn’t even realized that you started talking until you heard your own voice.

“if you’re gonna have girls over, can you at least make sure i don’t bump into them on the stairs?” you were slowly getting pissed off, the fact that you didn’t know if it was on purpose to show you he’d moved on or if it was an accident didn’t matter. you didn’t want to know about it regardless.

he didn’t say anything, just looked at you as you pushed past him. you closed your door, his eyes closing as he took in a deep breath, raking his fingers through his hair.

“tom! c’mon, we’re gonna be late!” harry called from downstairs.

“yeah, coming.” he said, taking one last glance at your door and fighting the urge to knock and spill his feelings for you. the thought of you doing better than him crossed his mind, shaking his head as jogged down the wooden steps.

you sat on the bed, holding your phone as the sound of the facetime ringtone played, kat’s face popping up after a few rings, “i have so much to tell you.”

add yourself to my tagged list here

tagged:

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x reader imagine #tom holland x reader series #tom holland x reader fluff #tom holland x reader angst #the summer i turned pretty au #spiderman #spider man #spider-man #spider-man: no way home #spider-man: far from home #spider-man: homecoming #marvel imagines #tom holland imagines #tom holland imagine #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfic #tom holland x fem!reader

245 notes · View notes

silkscream · 1 year

Text

angel unaware

ꨄ︎ pairing: peter parker x silk!reader

ꨄ︎ synopsis: you’ve known peter since you were fifteen, shortly after you were both bitten by the same spider. it was too obvious that you’d end up loving him. as you drift apart during your first year of college, you’re not sure how much longer you can keep dancing in circles with him.

ꨄ︎ genres: best friends to lovers, angst, idiots in love, slowburn, mutual pining, hurt/comfort

ꨄ︎ tags: rated explicit/18+ (smut), alcohol usage, mention of drug usage, unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), characters are 19, mild violence, gun violence (there is a school shooting in the beginning but there aren't too many details)

ꨄ︎ wc: 13.8k

ꨄ︎ notes: omg. happy valentine’s day y’all. i’ve been working on this Big Bertha for literal MONTHS and i’m so happy to finish it and share it with you. thank you for being around even though i haven’t been the most active; this is a gift to you <3

ꨄ︎ listen to the playlist!

The spider bit you first.

It isn’t until you’re fifteen that someone else finds out about it.

In many ways, you should’ve known. The symptoms, the hypervigilance, the strange, gradual transition of filling out your body. You blame puberty first, but this feels more than abnormal. It's almost as if it's bursting through your skin. The only other person who seems to mirror your coming of age is Peter Parker, whose twitchy nature exacerbates the longer high school goes on.

You keep your head low because there’s no reason for you to tell anyone about your powers. Not even the boy about whom you’re positive shares the same curse as you.

But then the videos come out. Red and blue lycra flying through buildings, a blurred figure saving cats from trees, webs shooting and swaying as onlookers stare like it’s a circus act. He calls himself Spider-man and you think it’s awfully corny.

You’d be a fool to think that you were safe from the antics of Avengers propaganda, rubble, and ash blocking your way to school on more days than not. You’d be a fool to think that you could evade the classic tropes of American violence that force the president to lament about "unthinkable tragedies" multiple times a year. At this moment, you’re a fool for getting yourself locked in a janitor’s closet while there’s an active shooter at Midtown High.

Your breath hitches when the doorknob jangles in front of you. On instinct, you stick yourself to the ceiling, far in the corner with your senses on fire. You’ve never actually had to attack anyone before. You aren’t entirely sure how this would play out with a gun involved.

Peter Parker’s labored breaths fill your eardrums, and without thinking, you shoot your webs directly at him. He stumbles, clumsily tripping over an empty mop bucket. He looks up at you in confusion. He’s wearing half of his suit.

"You. You just–"

"Shut the fuck up," you hiss, covering his mouth with your palm. In the darkness, your eyes widen. Someone is near.

It’s a stupid ordeal. The crime happening, this meet-cute, the way your senses feel haywire being this close to him. Both of you are holding your breath, your heart is pounding erratically in your chest, and blood is rushing through your ears.

The day ends with you and Peter making it out of the closet through a vent and the shooter getting subdued by the police. A troubled sophomore who barely knew how to use the gun in the first place made it easy for Spider-man to intercept the weapon the moment the kid raised his arms.

Peter follows you home that afternoon like a stray cat, babbling over a game of twenty questions that you aren’t in the mood to entertain. Somehow, his presence leaves your chest feeling warm and light, and you realize that you don’t mind the company. Twenty questions become routine.

He’s the only one who gets it, of course.

He tells you about the Avengers, ignoring the way you scoff under your breath. Secretly, you’re only a little jealous. Not because you want that kind of prestige or even a fancy suit, but because at least there’s a group of freaks out there who know. "How come you didn’t tell me?" Peter asks you. He looks small on your couch despite his sixteen-year-old sleeper build and the fact that he’s taking up more than half of your space.

"What do you mean?"

"If you knew about Spider-Man this whole time… why didn’t you say something?"

"What, like I was supposed to seek you out on the street with a mask on?"

He gives you a pointed look. "You had a feeling about me. In school. Didn’t you?"

You don’t answer, which, to Peter, is an answer in itself.

"I didn’t want to be any trouble. It’s my burden to deal with," you say slowly, blinking up at him.

Burden. Peter smooths the word over in his mind and watches the way your nimble fingers pick at the threads of your sweater. He suddenly feels guilty for pestering you with questions, especially after the trauma of today.

"It’s not a burden," he says carefully. You don’t protest, but he knows there’s a certain level of repression inside you that won't let you give this part of yourself up. As if his knowing about your powers would only be that — knowing. He keeps staring at your fingers.

"You don’t have web shooters?" He gestures to your hands.

"Comes from my fingertips."

"No fucking way. You gotta show me."

"You saw it today," you chuckle as you take a breath.

"Not really," he pouts. The amber-brown of his eyes is annoyingly irresistible, and you know it because of how hot the back of your neck suddenly feels. There’s a hint of a taunting smile on his face, as if he knows.

You take him to the fire escape outside your bedroom window. It’s barely past five and it’s already gotten dark. Luckily, your bedroom faces an empty alley.

"I’m not some circus act, just so you know," you warn him.

"Please," he tuts. "If anything, we both are. Two arachno-freaks."

"You should rebrand as that," you say with a grin.

You shoot a web to the fire escape railing above you, holding yourself up and swinging like you're in P.E. climbing a rope. You feel ridiculous, to say the least. You quickly shoot more webs after a quick scan of your surroundings to swaddle yourself in something resembling a cocoon. It hangs like a playground swing from the metal above.

"Holy shit! Does it ever… run out? Do you get web blocks? Does it come out of anywhere else–"

"I’m not answering that." Your cheeks heat up at the insinuation.

"Sorry, just curious." He holds his palms up in defense, then reaches to touch a fingertip to the silk holding you together. It feels soft like cotton candy and is much less sticky than what came out of his web shooters.

He asks you to swing with him, and for some reason, you say yes. You don’t like to swing very much, and if you do, you try to look for construction sites or abandoned scaffolding to evade attention. Tonight, however, the New York City lights look warm against the velvety backdrop of the sky, and you decide that flying through the air with someone else feels better than doing it alone.

____

He doesn’t understand your desire to stay under the radar. Whenever he brings it up, you take the opportunity to bring up the New York City disasters that have gone underway before the two of you even graduate. If anything, you’ve been a decent backup, but you refuse to be in the public eye. You don’t want to be Spider-girl.

But you don’t mind swinging around the city in your handmade suit, spun and woven together with the silk that flows straight from your fingertips. It’s one thing that Peter’s jealous of, but it helps him when he needs to patch up a wound when he’s on the go with you.

Peter comes through your window with a red gash on his thigh. You can smell him before you see him.

"Ugh, you broke the streak. Five days without a scratch. That’s a record for you, Parker," you sigh, already rummaging through your drawers for the usual first-aid kit.

"I’m fine." He winces as he crouches down carefully on the floor. You’ve gotten good at minding your business and not asking about his wounds, at least not ones that aren’t too deep into the flesh. He knows it would only hurt you if you knew.

"And yet you’re here."

"I wanted to see you. You know I always want to see you."

You open your mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. You kneel before him, pouring hydrogen peroxide onto the gash as you dab gently with a hand towel. He hisses and grabs your forearm with more force than he intends to.

"You’ll be fine," you reassure him gently.

"Yeah. I could've done it, you know," he says as he carefully holds your gaze.

"‘S’fun sometimes," you reply without looking at him. Carefully, you wrap gauze around his leg. "When I was little, my neighbor and I used to play House, but it always turned into, like… Hospital. And I’d pretend to be a nurse and take care of her, I’d tuck her into bed, and I’d give her lollipops from my Halloween stash for being a good patient."

Peter chuckles. He wobbles slightly as he stands up with your help.

"Am I a good patient?"

"Mm. A very brave boy," you say as you pat his cheek.

"What, I don’t get a treat?"

"Your treat is staying alive." You take him by the wrist towards your living room couch.

He doesn’t know what he’d do without you. It’s not right for him to think of you as an extension of himself, but he often yearns for your presence like a phantom limb whenever you aren’t on patrol with him. He realizes you're the yin to his yang.

It excites him, the images of you two that end up on the Internet. How good you look together. You, on the other hand, dread any semblance of perception by the world.

"People are catching on, you know. Ned found a subreddit on you the other day," Peter murmurs into your lap.

You snort, rolling your eyes the way you always do. You fiddle with the soft strands of his hair. It’s second nature to you. "Ned needs to reduce his screen time tenfold."

"Rabbit."

You sigh dramatically at the nickname. He’d adopted it after the many jumpscares he’d give you when he’d sneak into your room at night. You’d become so accustomed to him that your spider-sense would dull when it came to Peter. He was your source of comfort.

"What, Pete?"

"Why don’t you patrol with me?"

"You know why." It’s too stressful. Too public. Too many run-ins with death that you can anticipate.

"It’s better when you’re around."

"You’re a big boy, Peter," you murmur. Your hand slides across his scalp again, this time with your fingertips settling in the space behind his ears. You aren’t looking at him; instead, you are watching the documentary on the television at a low volume. He crumples at your touch.

"May says you’re my guardian angel. Every time something really bad has happened, it always worked out because you were there."

"I mean, it probably helps when you have another Spider-person as a backup."

"I think she’s right, though."

You don’t say anything. You’re tempted to reply with something sardonic or self-deprecating. You put too much faith in me. But you can’t – he’s looking at you with something that you can’t fathom. Something earnest and entirely too fragile. You have to look away.

He hums, sighing into a tattered copy of Hamlet. "I can’t deal with any more Shakespeare."

"You’re such a slow reader despite being a goddamn genius."

"Did you just say something nice about me?" Peter raises a brow.

"Oh my God, relax, Big Bang Theory."

He scoffs and swallows down a smart-ass remark. A grin lingers in his mouth as he settles back into the book.

____

You’re apart from Peter for the first time since age sixteen. You don’t tell him – you don’t tell anyone – but you decide on an out-of-state university because you don’t want to feel tethered to him. Your friends consider you and Peter a package deal, and yes, he’s probably the first real best friend you’ve ever had, but the gnawing inside of you telling you that distance is needed doesn’t stop.

You, the black sheep, are the antithesis of your hero of a best friend, despite being bitten by the same spider. You’ve always wondered if your story was supposed to play out like some sort of Shakespearean tragedy because of your bond with Peter, so you decide to take your mind off of it. At least it won’t be as painful as severing it completely.

It feels free to be away from all the chaos. In Rhode Island, you can focus on your art and fold your feelings away in a neat little envelope. You’d rather die than let any of that out, especially when Peter insists on such frequent FaceTime calls.

Sometimes, you fall asleep to the sound of his voice. He tells you about taking a train down to Providence in the middle of September to visit you like some kind of long distance boyfriend. The thought makes something in your stomach bloom and stagger in the same way. He doesn’t keep his promise – chem labs are already kicking his ass halfway to Thanksgiving break, not to mention the crime rate in New York City rockets beyond normal.

Thanksgiving comes, and both of you are the same. Peter is exactly as boyish as you left him three months ago, though his brown hair has grown longer and he wears blue-light readers to help with the mild headaches he gets from staring at screens.

He isn't attached to your hip like you expected. Your week off is filled with missed texts and a marathon of TV shows about broken women—the kind with dark humor and falling in love with priests.

The next time you see him, your roommate is out of town. It's not an unusual occurrence given how little she spends time in the dorm, always elsewhere with her new boyfriend.

Peter takes up so much space in your bed that you almost offer to push the two twin beds together, but the feeling of his warmth is too comforting. Propped against the wall, you’re hip-to-hip with him as you scroll through Netflix on your laptop.

You can feel him staring. It becomes routine, or maybe it’s your senses, but you can always tell when he’s merely observing you, watching you carefully like ripples on a pond. You've never really chastised him about it, but it doesn't help that you know he can tell when you're nervous. He has you memorized.

He likes the way you look when you concentrate. Sometimes, when you’re deep in thought, he likes to take his thumb and smooth out the ridges of your furrowed brows even though you end up swatting him away. When he does this now, you look up at him with wide, doe eyes.

"Still as indecisive as ever."

"I have to be, otherwise you’ll just put on Gilmore Girls," you scoff.

"You’re the one who showed me that!" Peter protests.

"And then it was the only thing you wanted to watch to the point where I genuinely considered locking you out of my Netflix account!"

He doesn’t bother to argue, instead resorting to poking you in the side. You squirm immediately, yelping as he continues. He flashes you a leering grin as you whine in dissent, flinching from the feather-like touch of his fingertips dancing across your skin.

"You’re so annoying," you huff, curling your body toward the wall.

"And you love it."

More than you’d ever know.

You pause, rolling your eyes at him. You contemplate kicking him again just to get a rise out of him, anything other than the short silence between you that feels more present than it should be. Your stomach feels warm at his proximity, but then again, Peter’s built like a human furnace anyway.

When you attempt to playfully shove him, he catches your wrist with quick reflexes until the two of you are tangled together. It’s easy to fight with him when you’re both running off the same biological fuel. When he ends up on top of you, you forget how to breathe.

The two of you stare at each other like this, as if frozen in time. It’s you who looks away first, then back to his big brown eyes, settling a palm to his cheek. You can feel how hard he is. You wonder if he knows.

It’s something you’ve only thought about in your subconscious, in dreams, or in moments when you’re bandaging his wounds. How would it feel to have his skin all over yours? It’s a selfish thought, but it rings in your brain without warning at times like these, times of such closeness. The spider bit the two of you for a reason. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.

It’s a curious thing for sure, but there are doors you don’t want to open yet.

"One episode and then I pick a movie," you mumble.

____

You don’t tell him about transferring when you come back for Christmas break. It feels embarrassing, despite knowing that he’d be ecstatic about the news. RISD proved to be too difficult for your one-track mind as you found yourself sleeping in more and more, flaking on the most rigorous of classes due to your mood. You’d successfully gotten into Pratt for the next semester and were fully moved out, thankfully. But when you see Peter in the arms of another, you wish you hadn't left.

You should’ve expected it, maybe. Peter had always had a thing for Michelle Jones but could never quite get past the friend zone. It seems as though your absence has nudged him further.

No, that feels too selfish to say.

But it’s still too difficult to bear in the loneliness of December, knowing that when the New Year’s parties hit, you’re still the black sheep. Even in a shiny little dress.

You don’t see him much over winter break, but he gets you a silver necklace for Christmas with a spider pendant hanging on it. It’s more sentimental than you expect, and it’s the nicest gift you’ve ever received. It certainly beats the Lego set you’d gotten for him.

Now, in your black cocktail dress, you smile dopily at Ned Leeds as the rest of the room counts down at the television, waiting for the ball to drop. It’s bittersweet when you remember last year’s countdown, in which Peter insisted the two of you swung out to Manhattan to watch the ball drop in person. You remember how much you wanted to kiss him then, but you didn’t. Thank God for his hero's anonymity and the impediment of his suit.

"Five, four, three, two, one – Happy New Year!"

Makeshift confetti falls to the ground as you watch him and MJ kiss. There’s enough champagne in your system for your heart to grow warm at the sight of it.

____

January is cold. Desolate. Even if you have your friends around you in New York, the place that feels most like home, you’ve come to realize. But there’s still something missing, something lacking. Like you’re inside a familiar place inside a dream.

You ignore the itch, learning to numb it with champagne. It worked on New Year’s, and now it’s been working for several weeks. You don’t leave your apartment.

Even though Peter Parker is a text or phone call away, you fade into the background of his life, watching him through newsreels and YouTube videos. You’re on his mind more than you’d expect. He doesn’t know why, though he does realize that your absence bothers him in small ways.

Sometimes, when he’s on patrol, he’s frustrated by his loneliness, especially in the dead of winter. You were never one to play the hero – he knew that – but it was still comforting to have someone to patch up his wounds or soften his fall. The webs that flow from your fingertips have always been strong, enough to form hammocks in between the corners of his bedroom or a makeshift suit.

And then there are the dreams. They feel real, vivid, and much too physical for something that his mind could conjure in his unconscious. You had only kissed him once before (in real life, that is), at a stupid basement party in the ninth grade, before the two of you were friends, but shortly after the initial spider bite. Although it’s something that’s only been brought up as a joke these past few years, Peter remembers vividly how hard his heart was pounding when the glass bottle landed on you after what felt like an excruciatingly long spin. He could never forget the feeling. He wonders if you feel the same.

It’s not something he should be thinking about right now. Especially when you’re not his girlfriend. He’d rather die a thousand deaths than have you know what you do to him in his dreams when you’re nothing but a reverie of your own silk-spun webs and soft, bare skin. You treat him like prey. He loves it.

Peter can nearly smell you, that sandalwood-citrus shampoo of yours, and your warm breath over his face. Your little whispers of praise, your tiny whimpers. The image of your eyes struggling to stay open while you’re underneath him is burned into his brain.

"I missed you," you say breathlessly. "Missed you so much."

God, how is this a dream? He can feel you so clearly. Until he doesn't, and he wakes up with a groan, an exhale, and an excess of sweat on his brow. Not to mention a dampness below him.

"Fucking Christ," he curses under his breath.

The ghost of you is on his bedroom ceiling, in the corner of his room. Something nearby smells like you, even though you haven’t been in his room in ages. This makes something in his chest hurt until he decides to get out of bed.

He wants to see you, but he feels guilty knowing what he's just dreamt about. He can’t help that the person that makes him feel the most human is the only other one who shares the venom in his blood.

Sometimes he follows you. It feels almost meditative for him to sit on a rooftop and watch you from the window of your favorite cafe, reading and writing and breathing. The brightness of his phone screen illuminates his face as his eyes scan over your contact. Your face smiles back at him, but there’s a distance considering the lack of texts between the two of you over the past month. He sighs as he zooms in on your location – the two of you had shared each others’ years ago and only found it convenient to keep.

Peter doesn’t know why he’s feeling all this yearning all of a sudden – sometimes he recognizes the feeling in his body and he thinks of you and he thinks of safety. Other times, like now, he knows that it only breeds guilt.

But he misses being quiet with you, misses the mundane intimacies of him poking you and you fixing his hair. All the small expressions you make with your face that only he notices. There’s something empty in the space he usually holds for you in his heart, and he doesn’t know why.

He has to see you. Maybe then, something in his brain will click, or he’ll see you as the old friend you’ve always been, and he can blame the heat in his body on his subconscious.

You’re predictable with your routine, because this afternoon, he finds you in your usual spot by the window at your favorite cafe again. You’re writing in your journal with your noise-canceling headphones on, so Peter’s presence is completely unknown to you. After he gets his coffee, he watches you from afar, just for a little bit.

As if on cue, you already know. The moment you skip a song and a millisecond of silence fills the space in your head, you feel him immediately. You always know when he’s around.

"Peter," you murmur without thinking. Your gaze is soft but carries the surprise of a deer caught in headlights.

"Hey," he smiles. "Mind if I sit here?"

He gestures to the armchair across from you, and you nod.

Peter knows how to coax your warmth from you, because within minutes, he has you talking about school, what’s on your mind, and why it feels better to be holed up in a cafe than sit miserably at home. You do the same for him, though you notice he’s more reserved for some reason – he’s tight-lipped about MJ, and doesn’t delve into the details of his hero work. He prefers to bombard you with questions instead, listening intently to your most recent fixations or the newest movie you saw alone in theaters.

"You replaced me yet, Rabbit?" he teases you.

"Never," you scoff, tipping your coffee cup to hide any embarrassment on your face. You haven’t heard him call you that in so long. "You know me. I’m a lone wolf."

"Pratt seems like your crowd though, no? No one at Midtown High was a match for you. You were way too cool."

"Mmm, true, yet you’re my best friend."

"Hey!"

Your laugh is like a song to him; he can’t help but smile ear to ear when he hears it.

"The only person who talks to me at school is this guy Cam from my ceramics class. He’s actually from Brooklyn so we took the train together to get home and he’s around for break, which is cool."

Peter’s face nearly goes cold at the sound of someone else’s name, though he stays composed.

"Fun. Are you two…" He gestures vaguely.

"We hooked up like, once, but I don’t really know where it’s going." You say it so nonchalantly like it’s an afterthought. You’re not even looking at Peter.

"If he fucks anything up, you know where to find me."

You smile, rolling your eyes in that bashful way you do when you shrug things off, and it’s more apparent to Peter now how much he adores all your little quirks and mannerisms. He realizes that he might have them all memorized.

"We’re actually going to a party tonight if you want to come. A friend of a friend’s birthday party in Manhattan, I think? I think her name was Anna?"

"Oh, my friend Gwen knows her and invited me!"

"Small world." You swallow down the image of Peter at the party with an ESU girl for a second, and it feels rough in your throat. But you’ll manage. You always do. "Is MJ coming?"

Peter shakes his head. "Ah, she’s in Philly visiting family. I’ll probably go with Gwen and her boyfriend Harry, though."

You feel shame in your relief. It’s sickening how much you have to bury your desire and your tenderness because you know better. You know that even though the two of you were bitten by the same spider, it doesn’t mean you’re necessarily compatible. Sometimes you think your attraction to Peter is some biological fluke determined by the cells in both of your bodies. And then you think, God, how can anyone look into his brown eyes and not feel a thing?

You're both warm in your chests as you part ways, waiting for your next meeting.

____

The night of the party, Peter revels in the sight of you wearing your spider necklace, which sparkles under the flashing lights of the penthouse apartment you’re both in. His mood dampens when he notices the tall boy attached to your hip like a guard dog.

It’s a stupid game and he knows it. The way he pretends not to see you or acknowledge your presence is cruel, but it feels safe for now. He doesn’t feel ready. He’s high off some gummy that Harry had given him an hour earlier, and it’s still fogging his senses, and even though he can be cloudy and nonchalant at this party, his paranoia precedes him. It feels like you’re everywhere.

He shouldn’t feel this way. Why does he feel this way? You’re his best friend and you have your own life that’s separate from his – he knew this would happen the moment he found out you were going to different colleges. Despite that, there’s a piece of you tethered to him that he can’t bear to cut off. It makes him feel sane, the parts of you that you’ve given him.

But now, he sees you laughing and swaying your hips with someone else’s hands resting on your waist and it makes his face burn.

"Dude," Gwen snaps her fingers in front of his face. Peter blinks back at her. "Are you good?"

"Yeah, sorry."

"Harry wanted to do a shot, you want to join?"

Peter nods numbly, following the blonde to the kitchen. He watches everyone else in the kitchen pour shots and drinks like they are rehearsed marionettes. Harry snaps him out of his daze once he slams down a shot glass full of vodka in front of him.

"Drink up, Parker!" Harry cheers.

The alcohol burns Peter’s throat, but he feels the head rush and the warmth. It feels good, makes him feel looser. Malleable. Invincible, maybe, if he took two or three more. But he knows he has to pace himself. He hates that his default setting is to look for you no matter where he is. But when he scans the room this time, you’re downing a glass of champagne alone.

Your body feels heavy at the moment, so you don’t register him plopping down on the couch next to you. You wake up to the sound of his voice as you always do.

"Hey, you."

"Hey."

Your glass of champagne is empty, so you take the beer bottle out of Peter’s hand without saying a word, and he lets you. He watches you gulp a bit of it down. Maybe you’re a little too drunk. Maybe you’re imagining the way his eyes scan your body.

You’re drunk enough to feel social, but truthfully, you’re deathly afraid of being alone with anyone right now. Being alone with someone would make you feel much too raw and vulnerable, so you convince Peter to introduce you to his friends that you’ve never met, and you try to cope with the fact that they look like they were cut straight out of a magazine.

"Peter talks about you all the time," Gwen gushes, sipping from her champagne flute.

"He does?" you ask, raising an eyebrow.

"Of course," she nods incessantly.

"Only incredible reviews all around," Harry nods, drunkenly slinging an arm around Peter’s shoulders. The brunette smiles sheepishly, bashfully. You raise an eyebrow at him along with a coy smile.

"Should hope so," you tease. "He wouldn’t have gotten through high school without me."

It’s mostly a lie considering Peter was the star student and you were barely second to him. Maybe fifth or sixth. In a way, your words are true, because Peter’s agreeing with you.

You zone out as he starts a story from junior year and you have half the mind to chime in when needed. Harry suddenly puts a whisky coke in your hand and you don’t want to refuse out of politeness, but you know the mix of different alcohol will have your head banging in the morning. Peter downs half of his within a millisecond.

"What?" he asks when he notices you making a face.

"Since when do you drink so much?"

"It’s a party," he shrugs.

"Peter, when I brought you to your first party, you refused to drink anything that wasn’t a fruity canned cocktail. You won’t go near wine let alone whiskey."

"A semester at ESU changes you," Harry interjects. "He’s still a little fruity, though."

Peter chastises him as you and Gwen laugh. As the boys bicker, Gwen gets your attention. She asks you mundane questions, like your major, your zodiac sign, and what you thought of the season finale of White Lotus. You’re grateful when she beckons you to follow her to the kitchen to make another whiskey coke.

Her glossed lips twist to the side, eyes bright with a teasing glance. She has the ability to make you feel calm, almost excited to be there.

"He is obsessed with you," she sneers.

"What do you mean?"

"He just talked about you so much when we met him that I had to stalk your Insta, and I was like Jesus Christ, that makes so much sense. If I wasn’t with Harry I’d snatch you up myself. And then when I met his girlfriend and I was confused that it wasn’t you. Unless you’re doing that, like, exes-that-are-still-best-friends thing."

You blush and nearly choke on your drink. "Peter and I never dated."

"Seriously?"

You say nothing, only forcing an amused smile. You don’t know where to put her assumptions, but you sure as hell can’t keep them.

"I’m actually, uh, here with someone," you mutter, pretending to look around. Briefly, you lock eyes with Peter on the couch, who’s pretending to listen to Harry's rambling. Your eyes flit away quickly. "I think I might step outside for a smoke and look for him."

You don’t have to turn around to know that Peter’s eyes are following you. Or maybe you’re just drunk and projecting. Gwen’s bubbly nature makes her seem like the type to gossip, and just because your best friend happened to talk about you doesn’t mean that there was anything under the surface. But then you notice his slightly nervous energy tonight, the silver necklace around your neck, and the last time he visited you months before, when his body was so close to yours.

A pair of hands situate themselves on your waist and it makes you jump. The warmth feels different, as does the sudden smell of sharp cologne, and then you feel your heart drop the slightest bit when you hear his voice.

"Was looking for you," Cam slurs. You can smell the beer breath as he exhales on your neck, making you shiver.

"You sure? Because you’ve been MIA for like forty-five minutes."

You try to keep your voice even, sighing when he plants a kiss on your neck. Any animosity in your tone is completely ignored.

"I was catching up with some people that I wanted to introduce you to," he says, tugging you along by the wrist like a child. You pull up a chair to a firepit surrounded by a group of strangers, and the charade of icebreakers returns. There’s no point in remembering anyone’s name.

You think about returning inside to look for Peter or maybe Gwen and Harry, but being on Cam’s lap is distracting you. At some point, a joint a passed around, and the feeling of the boy’s arms around you makes it easy to melt into nothing.

____

You’re right. You always are. Peter Parker doesn’t drink, and he’s never drunk this much in his entire life. He’s been sitting in the bathtub for… how long? He doesn’t know. All he knows is that his senses were dulled to the point of detachment and he needed to get alone to ground himself.

He’s so out of it that he doesn’t realize someone’s knocking on the door of the bathroom, and his reaction time is too slow before Harry barges in.

"Are you hiding in the bathtub?" Harry squints.

"No, I’m just… hangin’ out," Peter stammers.

Harry snaps out of the facade of a confused daze and shrugs, unbuckling his belt with nonchalance in front of the toilet.

"Dude!"

"What? I’m turned around!"

Sighing, Peter looks around his surroundings. Generic brand shampoo and conditioner. A deformed bar of soap. A red solo cup with clear liquid. He remembers suddenly – he’d filled an empty cup he found with sink water before getting in the tub.

His brain swims with dizziness and mild nausea that mix up his stomach. Gulping down the water, his throat burns immediately, only to realize that it isn’t water at all. It’s fucking vodka and seltzer. Harry’s turned around again, cackling before washing his hands.

"Idiot."

"Fuckingshitjesusfuckingchrist," Peter groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You should just drink straight vodka at this point, man."

"Oh, I do," Harry agrees. He crouches down, squatting to meet Peter at eye level. A warm palm taps Peter’s cheek. "You good, bro?"

"Mmm," Peter nods. His breathing turns shallow as he hunches over, pulling his knees into his chest.

"Jesus, you need to get home, don’t you?"

"‘m fine. You go home."

"Gwen’s been nagging me to for the past ten minutes, so I might. I’d let you crash on the couch, but we’re getting up early to go upstate. How are you getting home, bro?"

Harry frowns when he realizes Peter is barely listening. "Pete!"

He grimaces at Harry’s constant fidgeting. With an annoyed sigh, he shoos the other boy away with flailing arms.

"Heard you," he slurs. "I’ll– I’ll share an Uber with Y/N."

Harry sighs with exasperation, pulling Peter’s arm forcefully to get him out of the tub and down to the living room of the house. Peter is dizzy in his vision, clumsy in his movements, but finds clarity when he glances towards the couch and sees you sitting there with furrowed brows.

"Peter? Are you okay?" you ask.

"Yeah, absolutely not," Harry says. "Gwen and I gotta head home and we’re leaving early tomorrow so he can’t crash. You guys are like, neighbors, right?"

You swallow a lump in your throat, briefly turning your head to glance back at Cam, then back at Peter. He looks at you with a guilty cadence, though his eyes lull with a tiredness that is unusual for him. He’s corpse-like, still hanging onto Harry’s shoulder like a lifeline. It makes the pit of your stomach stir.

It’s unlike him, to be this drunk. The only other time Peter has been this drunk was once in high school, when he was slurring his words all night and determined to clutch you like a teddy bear in his twin-sized bed. You recall his warmth and how his post-puberty figure appeared gargantuan to your body. Foreign, but warm. Comforting. When you think about taking Peter home tonight, you feel like you aren’t allowed to lay next to a body that doesn’t belong to you.

"Yeah, I’ll take him home."

____

"Coulda swung home myself," the boy mumbles. You hit him on the arm and give him a chastising look. Thankfully, your current Uber driver speaks a limited amount of English, not to mention the radio is on blast.

"You couldn’t have. You’re so fucking drunk, you’d kill yourself," you hiss in a low tone.

"Not if you were with me."

"Well, I wouldn’t be. I wasn’t even gonna go home tonight."

"Ah. Of course. Cam,” he exasperates. “Is he your boyfriend?"

You sigh. "No, he’s not."

"Right, you don’t… you don’t do boyfriends," Peter murmurs, rubbing his face with the palm of his hand.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing."

The car stops in front of Peter’s apartment building.

"Thank you," you say stiffly to the Uber driver as you drag Peter out of the car. The elevator ride is awkward and quiet, as is the fumbling of keys when Peter tries to unlock the door.

He leans on your body as you coerce him into his bedroom, with him thumping onto his bottom bunk.

"Jesus. I feel like if Richie Rich called you an Uber himself you could’ve easily made it up the elevator by yourself. Right, Pete?"

"Mhmm. He’s such. A worry wart. For some rea–" Peter makes a gulping sound that makes your face pale. Immediately, you grab his trash bin and place it between his feet.

"‘m not gonna puke."

"I think you might, Peter."

He pauses and examines you as you kneel in front of him. He’s so drunk, so awfully drunk, but he has enough sense in him to take the caution that the anxious voice in the back of his head commands. But fuck, you look so pretty. He doesn’t know what to do about it.

Peter takes a strand of your hair in his hands and curls it around his finger. His shallow breaths feel louder than they should be. Or maybe they’re yours. He can’t really tell.

"What?"

"Nothing," he shrugs. "I won’t vomit. I promise."

You sigh.

"I should get going–"

"Can you stay for a little?"

Swallowing, you nod. You get into bed with him, because, quite frankly, you’ve had your fair share of alcohol tonight, and laying down in Peter’s warm bed makes you want to melt off the bone.

"I'm sorry for fucking up your night." Peter turns to lie on his side and drapes an arm carefully around you. His hand is feather-bare on your hip.

"You didn’t."

"You were gonna go home with Cam."

"It’s fine, Peter. I wanted to make sure you were safe."

"Like a chore."

"Not like a chore."

"Yeah, okay."

He does that thing again – holds a strand of your hair in his hands. He runs his fingertips nimbly across your scalp as if he’s handling an injured bird. As if he’s afraid you’d bite.

Your eyes are huge, like flying saucers. He used to say that all the time, especially whenever you came to his apartment after experimenting with any new drugs. You only felt safe with him – you had told him that – and he took care of you and your big eyes and your tendencies toward erratic behavior. He always knew how to calm you down. And now, in your adult lives, you were doing it for him.

You let him keep his hands in your hair and he doesn’t know why. There’s a theory he wants to test – one that he dreams about even when he knows he shouldn’t. He thinks about it in vulnerable moments. He considers that maybe this is a vulnerable moment.

His fingertips trace your face between the edge of your eyebrow and the baby hairs on your hairline. He taps along your temple gently, smoothing across the softness of your skin until he sculpts down your cheek and jaw. He blinks once, then twice. And then he rests the pad of his thumb on the corner of your mouth.

Almost automatically, you part your lips. Your mouth is pink, dusted with a purplish-red in the center from the merlot you’d drank hours before, and he wants to lick it off you.

He feels your heart beating, too, and you can hear his. It's a loud bang that resonates in between your eardrums. It’s that shared venom that makes your bodies so acquainted with one another. You briefly consider whether a human body can overheat and burn away simply by being touched by another. You wonder how human the two of you can really be.

You close your eyes.

"What are you doing?" you whisper. Your voice is gossamer-thin, barely there, but you’re so close to him that he hears it so clearly.

"Whatever you want." His voice is dripping honey.

You shake your head, still with your eyes closed. Peter’s hand descends to your jaw, thumb on your bone, with the rest of his fingers warming up your neck. You feel like you might just choke on the feeling of it.

"No, that’s not fair. That’s not… okay."

"What?"

"You’re drunk, Peter. Don’t do that to me. Please."

"What am I doing?"

Your face scrunches up as your eyes open to look at him with a pained expression. You have to close them again. You don’t want to look at him. You want his hands off of you, so you push them away.

"You’re with MJ."

"I… I know."

Your face is crumpled as you inch out of his bed. You’re back to kneeling on the floor in front of him.

"Please don’t leave," Peter whispers.

"I’m tired. I’ll sleep on the top bunk," you mumble. You try not to let him catch you sniffling.

"Goodnight.” You don’t respond.

He falls asleep shortly after and smells your perfume even in his dreams. When he wakes up, he smells you. But you’re nowhere to be found. There’s only the cold air coming from a crack of his window left slightly open.

____

It’s not your fault, but you’ve broken his heart a million times. The night of the party was the most recent one. To be fair, he had also broken your heart. He was just too fucking drunk to remember most of it.

You’ve become a ghost, barely texting Peter back, and when you do, your responses are short and clipped. You don’t have much time to hang out, and he realizes he doesn’t either, not when he has MJ to spend time with along with his Spider-Man duties.

But he would make time for you if you wanted it. He wonders if you know that. He feels too ashamed to tell you that himself.

It’s been like this before, and he’s been able to cope. The way you’re on his brain and won’t leave —stuck on him like a parasite. It’s his fault, he decides, not yours. He knows he’s not being fair. Not to you, not to MJ, not to himself. But he keeps it all in and hopes it doesn’t boil over.

Truthfully, Peter wants to avoid everyone. He understands now why you abhor winter to the degree that you always have. The desolation is too much to bear when there’s not much sunlight in January to activate dopamine receptors, so Peter sleeps in longer than he should. Late enough for Aunt May to get on his case about it.

"Something’s up with you," MJ accuses him on a Thursday evening. It’s one of their ritual movie nights with pizza and wine.

"Huh? Nothing’s up," Peter shrugs.

"No, I know you. Something’s wrong."

"I’m fine, Em." A lie.

It’s a miracle that Michelle Jones sees through Peter’s bullshit because it means that she has the incentive to protect herself from any future bullshit that may break her later on. Peter is too numb to process any of it. There was the refusal of admission, the attempt to keep up the wall of his emotions, which crashed down soon enough by the time MJ was out of the door.

He thinks he should call you, but he doesn’t.

____

Peter is used to scrapes and bruises. He’s seen more than enough charred flesh than a nineteen-year-old should. You had never asked to be his caretaker, but over the course of years, that was what you became. His guardian angel.

He used to make excuses to come over after patrol, trying to coax you out of your nest of a room for just an evening. He'd always known you were far more talented than you gave yourself credit for when it came to spider abilities, but it felt more like a curse than a gift for you to bear.

Some nights, he dreams of you falling stories beneath him. Your face is covered in rubble and ash, and although his nightmares often start with this, he knows that somehow, it’s his fault. It feels visceral, the burning in his calloused hands. Torn lycra to show the dirt underneath his fingernails. Hot tears dripping.

He starts taking that Ambien you gave him years ago.

After that, each day passes like he’s trapped in a nightmarish purgatory. No, that’s an exaggeration. He’s just a victim of a New York winter, and he misses you more than he wants to admit to himself or anyone else.

"I can take care of myself." And with that, the image of you disappears.

"I know," he murmurs softly. He’s always known. It is insignificant in comparison to how badly he wants to take care of you if you let him. Your voice echoes in the cavern of his room. You get farther away by the second until you disappear completely, and he evidently wakes up.

Even in your worst state, he’s obsessed with your honeyed skin. It doesn’t matter the number of bruises or cuts – he caresses them all with his nimble fingertips, and he’s ready to kiss them until they heal. He thinks about this sometimes, how much he cares for you and your body. What he'd do if you just let him in, let him devour you however he pleases, and it disgusts him.

In his dreams where you’re hurt, he’s willing to sacrifice whatever he can so that you can revert to your clean, unbothered state. I’d never let anyone break you. It’s a prayer for him. One that he whispers in your ear whenever he can, at least in these dreams. In reality, he knows that he has to let you go because he knows you. Knows how much you want to be free and alone. How you can take care of yourself. You’re not a damsel in distress – you never have been. But Peter feels like he was made to care for you. It would gut him all the same regardless of whether you loved him or not, and he was willing.

When it’s real, he doesn’t know what to do. He didn’t ever think the two of you would be in this position.

He’s been in enough battles to know how these things end. Mr. Stark had walked him through it all and been by his side while the rest of the Avengers repaired the other broken bits of the universe.

Right now is one of those unique times, the quiet and wretched ones, where Peter is contemplating breath after breath before imagining the full picture. Shambles of the street he’s in. The ache of his bruised body and the blood that he sees from yours, that he shouldn’t have seen, because you said it yourself. You’re not a fucking hero. So why is your blood streaked on the palm of his hands?

The distance between you and Peter doesn’t matter – it never does. The moment you’d felt a dread stirring in your stomach, there was a sharp pain in your head that refused to leave unless the working adrenaline in your body was satiated. It wasn’t the same adrenaline that circulated within you from a night of debauchery – instead, it felt like poison. A compulsory kind of pain, a sharp jolt to your senses. Tonight, you’d felt Peter in danger, and it would’ve killed you if you couldn’t get to him. He'd been the destination you'd been dead set on by the end of the night because of your spider instincts.

The police broadcast was too muffled for you to understand much of it, but you picked out the parts where Spider-Man was mentioned and followed through on them. Although you didn’t fall into the shadow of his hero work, you still kept enough tabs on Peter to know where he would usually be on patrol. It wasn’t like he knew, or that you’d ever told him, but when he was starting out as another guard dog for the Avengers in high school, you needed to at least know his approximate location in the event that something went terribly wrong.

An explosion blasts in the center of a park, where the two of you would meet in the middle between Queens and Stark Tower. This is where you lay your courage down. This is where you find Spider-Man’s mangled body before anyone else does.

"Peter," you huff. "S’gonna be okay. You with me? I’m gonna make sure you’re okay."

He’s just less than conscious, the stretch of his animated eyes limited by his weakness. When he sees your face, however, his face glows – not that you can see it through his mask.

He says your name with a fervor that surprises you. His voice is raspy.

"‘m fine. I have to stay," he grunts, his pain palpable. You know that he’s telling the truth, but you don’t want to leave him alone in his misery.

"Peter. You’re hurt."

"You go home. I’ll come find you later. Just let me–"

"You’re fucking limping."

You had always carried yourself like a feather-like, lithe ghost. Quiet, whereas Peter was bold, despite the fact that his anxious nature had rendered him a boyish thing all these years. This is why he’s surprised that you carry him easily with your supernatural strength. He forgets that you have the same abilities as him. If anything, he’d think you were stronger than him in every way.

Even with his thick skin, he melts into something malleable, comfortable. The solace of your arms makes him feel better already.

A pang of small guilt rots away within him, knowing the circumstances of your last meeting. You’re too good. He didn’t deserve to be saved by you, to be patched up with your nimble fingers like he had been treated when he was younger and more naive.

"I can make it to my place, it’s okay," he rasps gently.

You don’t have to say anything, because bullshit radiates through the stern expression of your eyes, your mouth in a grimace. You had always been stubborn and today isn’t an exception. With your webs, you crochet a path for him toward your home, lifting and catching the boy effortlessly as you swing.

A gentle sigh escapes his mouth when the two of you crawl into the safety of your fire escape. The night is quiet behind you. When he looks at you, you have to look away, fixing your hair nervously or occupying your gaze anywhere but in his direction. His eyes are poignant in their longing, though you’re unsure of what he could be thinking. If he’s sorry about before. If he’s ashamed.

Your wispy webs wrap around the parts of him that hurt, but you wince when you check on him to see that the white fibers are slowly saturated with the dark crimson of his open wounds.

"Peter, you have to wash up," you whisper. "Shit’s gonna get infected. I can put some gauze on you after you shower."

He nods wordlessly when you ask him if he can manage the shower on his own. He feels vulnerable, and although your presence is always desired by him, he finds relief in the hot steam of your shower, alone with his thoughts. He’s still shaken from the explosion. Not completely catatonic, but tense. As if he isn’t in his body at all.

When Peter emerges from the bathroom, he looks like a stranger. Scars adorn his sides. Your face crumples at the sight of his fresh wounds.

"C’mere."

It doesn’t take you long to fix him up, cleaning his cuts and wrapping gauze around his stomach and chest. His quiet grunts startle you, as if he's a wild animal. Eyes screwed shut, brows cinched in pain. A heavy exhale and a mumbled apology followed.

You forgive him with a soft touch and a hushed whisper. He wishes the ache would stop. He wishes he could lie on your bed and have you whisper in his ear all night until the sound of your voice lulls him to sleep.

There aren’t many words exchanged, and you want to ask him why. If you did something. But then you think about the images on the news and his withered face, and you decide not to probe the sphere of trauma surrounding him. Peter has probably gone through more in the last twelve hours than you have in a week.

You stop him before he tries to make it out of your bedroom door and towards the living room.

"I don’t mind sleeping on the couch, I’ve done it before."

"It’s like sleeping on a rock, Parker. You just gone through God knows what," you chide. "Just… get in here."

As he breathes in and out, he nestles in your shoulder, his clean hair tickling your bare skin. There’s a nasty guilt that lurches from your sternum. As if you were the reason for his pain. For the state of his body. And you think back to the desperate look in Peter’s eyes the night you took him home from the party. Were you too cruel, then?

It’s like he steals the words from your mouth. He beats you to it.

"I’m sorry," Peter murmurs. His amber eyes blink up at you, unfathomable. You flash him a downturned grin.

"For what?"

"I feel like… there’s been a distance between us lately. And I don’t want that, because you’re my best friend. And now you’re taking care of me when you don’t have to. I just wanted you to know that I really appreciate it. That I, um, lo–," he stammers. He chews on his bottom lip. "You’re really good."

"‘m not all that good, Peter."

But of course, you are, he protests in his head. You are the moon and the stars and everything in between.

"I’m sorry for not being around."

"Not just your fault," you shrug. "Phone works both ways."

He knows you better than you think because, within seconds, his palm rests softly on your cheek, where he feels a hot tear.

"What’s up, Spidey?" he asks you. It makes you laugh.

"Shut up." You shake your head, trying to hide your face. The feeling of his thumb rubbing your cheek makes the tears flow even more. "I wouldn’t know what I’d do if something bad happened to you. If I couldn’t get to you. Or if you – if you were gone."

"I’m okay, Rabbit. We’re okay."

"Yeah," you chuckle, trying to hide your tears.

"Couldn’t get rid of me if you tried."

You feel warmer in his grasp. His small breaths fall on your arm as his body curls up next to you. He’s bigger than he’d been before back when you were teenagers. The jaw is chiseled and sharp. Not as soft and boyish as you once knew. With your senses, you can discern the steadiness of his heartbeat as his chest rises and falls into slumber. You fall asleep soon after, dreamless but full of warmth.

____

Waking up next to him is nothing new, but it’s been years. You never thought anything of it when the two of you were sixteen, staying up all night reading creepypastas and watching movies until you’d fall asleep on top of each other by four in the morning.

After a night’s sleep, Peter's sullen face is a bit brighter despite his dark circles. His limbs are entangled in yours, bodies fused together. Yin and yang. You can only assume that this is how it will always be.

You keep mental notes of him like trinkets. The uneven slant in his left eyebrow. The faint freckles dotted along his nose, the one near the corner of his mouth. The faint shadow of hollowed-out cheeks. Peter is still half-boy to you, and half-man, but you didn’t want to come to terms with it. Maybe he was something else. Half-ghost. Half-angel.

Slowly, over the course of a few weeks, he comes back to you again. Sitting together and reading at a cafe. The occasional 3 am swing. Walking around high at the 7-11.

"Did you like Rhode Island?" he asks over a joint one night.

You hum for a second, trying to come up with an acceptable answer. It wasn’t that you hated being in Rhode Island. It was that you hated being away from him.

So instead, you shrug. "It was nice to get away from everything. Providence is still a city, but it isn't as large as all this–”

You trail off, making a vague gesture with your hands. Chaos, Peter presumes.

"Less overwhelming?"

"Sure," you say, nodding. "I missed being home, though."

I missed you.

Peter passes you the joint. His brain feels fuzzy. Warm. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands. He massages your ankle absentmindedly.

"I get it," he says, breaking the silence.

"You get what?"

"Wanting to leave. I've been thinking about it," Peter shrugs, his eyes squinting in the late afternoon sun. "Sometimes I wish we could pack our bags and go to the countryside. See some cows and shit."

We. We. We.

"There are cows upstate," you snort.

"You know what I mean."

"We can do a road trip."

"You can’t drive."

"I am aware and perfectly fine with being a passenger princess. In fact, I’m looking forward to it," you grin.

He yanks your ankle this time, causing you to slip from where you’re sitting on the pavement. Giggling, you swat away his hands, but he’s too quick, untying your shoelaces as you kick and thrash.

"Honestly, it’s probably better for society if you never get behind the wheel," Peter teases. He dodges you when you try to kick him in the shin.

"Oh, but you can be? You get so distracted so easily! Whenever you’d practice driving, you’d miss so many exits or be too anxious to merge on the highway."

"Okay, well, you’re just a force of distraction," he shrugs, throwing his hands up in defeat. "You have that effect on people."

You look at him quizzically, your eyes narrowing. If there’s anything behind his statement, he doesn’t show it on his face. Peter knows his cheeks are burning, however.

There are more moments like these. Ever since you’d rescued Peter that night, he’s grown accustomed to spending hours of his day idly looking for you, learning your class schedule, and following you home like a pet when it’s time to unwind. He stays for hours like he used to when you were kids, and although he always thinks he’s overstaying his welcome, you don’t seem affected.

You curl into him more these days, like a sunflower stretching toward the morning glow. There are more lingering touches, here and there. You have to remind yourself not to get too comfortable, but God, he makes it so easy.

So the burning question pops out during a marathon of Chainsaw Man.

"Does MJ care that we hang out so much?" you blurt out. He looks at you like you have three heads. Also, his mouth is full.

"Um, webrobrup," he mumbles. He frowns as he looks down. Hot Cheeto fingers.

You mock him, of course.

"English, yeah?"

He chuckles as he finishes scarfing it all down. He shyly licks his fingertips, and you have to stop yourself from staring at the way his fingers enter his mouth. Ugh, gross. This is hardly supposed to be hot.

"We broke up."

You keep a straight face. It’s not like you’re excited or anything. You realize you shouldn’t be surprised because… why else would he be so available to you lately?

"Shit. You really fumbled, then."

"Shut up," he laughs.

"Seriously. Who else is gonna wanna put up with you?" You both know the answer to that.

"It was mutual," he says, shrugging. "I’ve got all my Spider-man shit, she’s getting into a bunch of extracurriculars and even a research internship even though we’re literally first years."

"Classic MJ."

"Yeah."

"We’ll get you back on the market, buddy," you tease, patting his head like a dog. A coy smile lights up your features. It makes something inside him melt.

"I’m not a piece of meat."’

You click your tongue.

"Oh, right, you’re an insect."

"Hey, so are you!"

____

You used to think it was a kind of twin telepathy, the magnetism to Peter that you felt. Bitten by the same spider and entangled in the same web. You realize as you grow older that it’s more than a platonic bond. It feels like wanting to share the same skin.

Or maybe it’s the wine talking.

It’s not your job to keep Peter afloat at the party right now, but both of you remember too well how the last party went. He continually sips water in between gulps of whiskey like a paranoid freak, which you tease him about. Maybe it’s just the darkness of his eyes under this light, but his pupils look wide and dilated.

It’s almost March. You’d both endured a proper New York winter, which usually extends until April if you’re lucky, but global warming has other plans. It's warm enough for you to pair one of your favorite dresses with an oversized Carhartt jacket that used to belong to Peter before the bite bulked him up significantly. You fiddle with the black velvet wrapped around your body as you pretend to listen to banal conversations, leaning your head into Peter’s bicep.

You keep picking at loose threads obsessively. You think about your fingertips and their webs. You think that maybe you should take up crocheting to distract your hands from their restlessness.

Peter grabs your hand away from you, squeezing it slightly, not even looking at you. His flushed palm rests against yours. Gently rubbing your thumb between your finger divots

If you were a cat, Peter would imagine you purring right about now. He wants to take you into his lap, stroke your hair while the alcohol subsides in both of your systems. The thought of you on top of him causes his cock to twitch slightly. His rose-colored cheeks are from the whiskey, he reassures himself. An affirmation. He lets go of your hand.

He knows that this isn't the time or place for such thoughts, so he makes an effort to push the desires down. He knows they'll come up again when the whiskey leaves his veins, but at least he'll be of sober mind.

Christ, he feels like he's at a middle school dance. Especially when you run off with a spring in your step to socialize with some girls you recognize from school. The smell of your hair lingers next to him. It's sweet and slightly floral, a scent that makes him think of when you were kids.

His ears perk up like a dog's when you call his name, reaching out to him so that you can introduce your best friend. He has the right mind to be polite, even funny at times, but he knows he pales in comparison to your current charisma, which contrasts with your usual wallflower nature.

Peter likes watching you talk, and you like that he watches you so intently. When you know he's watching, it's easy to deadpan some drunken jokes and elaborate superfluous tall tales from your high school days. His eyes are bright, and his bottom lip is chewed in between his teeth.

Suddenly, he gets to be alone with you in the kitchen. Your scent permeates the air. He could drown in it.

“Rabbit," you whine petulantly. "Swing me home."

"How drunk are you?" he chuckles with adoration.

"Not very. Just tired, s'all," you respond with a yawn. You scrunch your nose. "Can I sleep at yours?"

Peter looks at you with a soft gaze. "Of course, angel."

Angel. He's never called you that before. You decide that you like the sound of it.

By the time midnight comes around, you're barefoot in his bedroom, black velvet spinning loosely around your figure. In Peter's blurred vision, you look like a friendly apparition, one that particularly favors "Champagne Coast" by Blood Orange.

"Come into my bedroom, come into my bedroom," you quietly sing along as you sway your hips.

"You're already in my room."

Your smile beams at him, huge and illuminating, and impossible to look away from. Peter wishes that he could bottle up this moment to revisit it, or maybe live in it for the rest of his life. The sweetest way to exist.

Your body sinks to his level -- no, collapses -- as you roll over his heavy frame and rest yourself on your back. Your hair fans out like you're underwater. Your lips are red and wine-colored, freshly bitten. When you turn your head toward Peter, his hand plays with the exposed nape of your neck, fingertips grazing the creases of your skin.

"You used to be so gangly, you know," you murmur. Your voice is lower than usual.

"Okay, well, I'm not anymore."

"I could totally still take you in a fight." Still refers to the times when the two of you would attempt something along the lines of combat training, if combat training was just you unleashing your hotheadedness with your mutant powers instead of with your fists. If you weren't so agile, maybe Peter would've had a chance of winning.

"I'd like to see you try, angel."

It's decided -- you are on top of him, knees bent around his waist as you wrestle. The fabric of your dress pools around your waist in a way that feels sacrilegious. Peter has his hand on your thighs, and his touch feels white-hot to both of you, so he closes his eyes, tries to focus on swatting you away like a bat instead. When he opens his eyes, he meets your devilish ones, gleeful that you've managed to pin his arms above his head.

It would take two inches to break this spell of separation. He keeps trying to keep this bubble intact because the last time he tried to pop it, the look on your face made him want to dig a hole and lay in it forever.

Peter feels sorry for many things. He feels sorry for the times he's intruded, when he's made Mr. Stark angry, for the times he couldn't be there for you. He feels sorry that you had to take care of him when he wanted to do that for you.

Right now, however, Peter doesn't feel sorry at all. The slight twitch of your pulse, the way you smell, the curve of your bare shoulders -- it's all too tempting for him to feel sorry for. So he kisses you.

He's surprised when you nearly bite him back. You inhale sharply, pressing your body against him as you let go of his wrists and rest your palms on his jaw instead. Your kiss is fervent, desperate.

His brow cinches in confusion when you pull away.

"Wha--"

"Fuck."

"What is it?" He frowns.

"I owe Ned twenty bucks."

"What?"

"I just remembered. At graduation, he was like, teasing me that we were gonna get together, and we bet on who would make the first move. I was just entertaining him, but you know how that kid gets about twenty dollars."

"So you thought you were going to make the first move, then?”

“I mean, yeah. How was I supposed to know that MJ was going to cuff you before I did?”

“You snooze, you lose, I guess,” he deadpans.

“You don’t even fucking deserve me, you little freak,” you taunt, tickling his exposed midriff.

“God, I know. I’ve known that for a while. Too bad I want you regardless.”

He smiles as he captures your lips again, tasting sweet and smoky at the same time. He coaxes you onto your back and you revel in his body heat and the way his large hands grab the plush of your thighs, pushing and pulling your skin taut. It’s so erotic that it almost feels dirty.

You kiss him back like he’s your last meal while you roam your hands under his shirt, then to his protruding collarbones, then experimentally, to the tufts of his chestnut hair. You pull a bit too hard due to your eagerness and he lets out a mewl that you never could’ve imagined to come out of him.

“You like that, don’t you?” you taunt darkly. “Is that why you always want me to scratch your head when we watch movies?”

“I don’t care what you do as long as you’re touching me,” he breathes out, like a confession. “Don’t care how you touch me, s’long as it’s you.”

A tepid blush soaks your face. You shut him up with another kiss. He licks at your bottom lip, groaning softly at the feeling of your soft body against his.

“You’re so pretty, Peter,” you whisper.

“You are.”

Before you can react, you hitch a breath in surprise when you find that his hands have fully reached above the hem of your dress and onto the bare skin of your hip, toying with the elastic of your underwear. You part your legs, bending your knees so that you can pull the fabric off.

He sighs as his fingers tease the slot of your cunt, which grows wetter and wetter with every touch. Your sensitivity makes you squirm a little. He can tell so easily that you’re falling apart for him. He loves it.

You nearly whine when he takes away his fingers from you. Instead, he towers over your body, pulling your legs toward him as he pulls up the hem of your velvet dress and cascades kisses on your knees. He slowly works his way up to your thighs, biting gently, then hard. Meanwhile, his hands roam the perimeter of your chest and your ribs, all soft and pliable for him. You’ll be delighted when you wake up to a bruise on your thigh stuck in the shape of Peter Parker’s mouth.

A shiver lacerates your lower body all the way up to your neck – you feel it, viscerally. All from his mouth. He slots his tongue onto the bud of your clit going slowly just to watch you squirm.

“Please,” you beg.

“Please what?” His eyes are as dark as the sky. As dark as your dress.

“Your– your mouth. I need it. Please. More.”

Peter’s grip on your thighs tightens as his face moves closer to your center, licking incessantly as you cry out. You attempt to muffle your sounds with your hand covering your mouth, biting the skin on your palm. Your blood is hot, pumping hard, all the way down to your swollen clit, and he treats you like a man starved.

“Oh my God,” you gasp. “More, please. Pleasepleaseplease.”

He listens to you, forcing his ring and middle finger into your cunt and curling upward. Your legs shake involuntarily when he does this and it takes everything in him to not stop just so he can see the look on your face head-on. You look so beautiful right now.

“Gonna cum, Pete. Fuck.”

He closes his eyes as he savors your sweet taste. He feels it when you cum as if it’s happening in his body, too. A jolt to the sense. A vivacious rumble. Your mouth is slack, jaw falling open with your eyes screwed shut as you finish, and Peter towers over you to watch. He’s never seen you like this. He wants to keep the image of it forever.

You thank him with a messy kiss, not caring about the remnants of your lipstick. Your hands attack him, teeth nipping at his earlobe as you help him undress. Soon enough, the two of you are naked together, limbs entangled and kissing without paying any mind to oxygen.

You take his jaw in your hand as if he’s a delicate thing. Easy to break. It’s your turn to tease, now.

“What do you wanna do?”

“You’re such a little shit,” he mumbles, but he can’t help but grin.

“Tell me about it, Spidey.”

“Want you, Rabbit, want to make you feel good.”

“And how exactly will you do that?”

“Gonna fuck you. I’ll make you cry if you keep being a little shit like this, too.”

There’s no time for a reaction. He’s on top of you, pinning you down, and he licks your collarbone up to your jaw as you whine like a newborn kitten. He spanks your ass and you have to your bottom lip to keep from being too loud.

“You want it that bad, huh?”

“Yeah,” you respond breathlessly. He melts at the sound of your voice, cooing softly as he playfully bites the skin of your cheek.

You love him like this, a burst of passionate energy focused on you and you only. His little angel. You remember your rabbit heart caged in your sternum fragile and thumping like an earthquake for him.

He pauses to give you another kiss, this time sweet as he licks up the bottom of your lip. You can feel him at the crux of your legs and you can feel the want pumping in your veins. Patience. Patience. Patience.

“You want me to go slow?”

“Of course not.”

You’re so relaxed in his grasp. Gooey with your desire that it might disgust you if you weren’t so enamored. You keep your eyes on him when he enters you – you want to see the look in his eyes.

Peter feels selfish wanting to tease you like this. He’s slow when he enters you, listening to your sweet exhales.

“Easy,” he warns. “‘m gonna take care of you, don’t worry."

Please floods your entire body like a heat stroke. You bend your knees upward and rake the smooth terrain of his back, lifting your hips up at the same time. He thrusts once, then twice, and already, he feels like he’s ready to unfurl completely.

“Fuck,” he groans. You’re so goddamn wet. Soft. Velvety.

“Don’t be shy, Peter,” you murmur. “C’mere.”

You keen into the way he buries his nose into your shoulder, shallow breaths uneven and erratic as he continues, losing control bit by bit as he goes on. His pleasure is the knife you twist inside yourself.

You gasp at the way he can carve you out, the way he knows exactly where to put his hands as he grasps for your body, like he’d molding you from clay. He drinks down your moans with his mouth, eyes fluttering at the impact of your cunt clenching him.

Peter props himself up now, moving his body backward so he’s perpendicular to your core. He holds you by your hips a little too hard, but you’d always liked it rough. You liked it when he would cuddle you or play with you or put his entire body weight on you. To smother was to be encased in something akin to love.

“Fuck,” he hisses, getting the hang of a constant rhythm. His hips slot with yours as his cock thrusts deeper into you, until he can feel the slight tremble of your thighs.

“You okay?” he asks, chest heaving.

“Yes, keep going. Keep going.”

You underestimate how fragile you are. A rough thrust almost has you there, until he pulls out of you like a stolen breath, and it leaves you whining.

“Pete.”

“Shh, I’m just trying to pace myself,” he breathes, jaw slack and glistening with sweat. “You feel too fucking good.”

“Come back or I’ll break your wrists.”

He chuckles, but you’re dead serious. You lift your body to him so you can pull his down, kissing him with a ragged hunger that’s all teeth and lust. He’s quick to match your vigor but with more tenderness than desperation. It makes you melt, how natural it is, how this is how it might’ve felt in a past life. Your bodies entwined in a way that’s proverbial.

He listens to you. Fucks you much rougher than before, giving in to what he wants, because he’s not sorry about how much he wants you. Your broken moans curl out of your throat and into his mouth and the feeling of him deep in you makes you feel like a balloon ready to burst from the pressure.

It’s like Peter reads your mind, because suddenly, his hand is around your throat. You’ve never looked more angelic to him than you do now, eyes half-lidded and your reddish mouth all lax.

“So fucking beautiful, I love you,” he mumbles against his mouth.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

All of Peter’s muscles are tense from holding back. Fuck, he doesn’t want to cum until you do.

Luckily, the way his cock stretches you out has you nearly drooling underneath him. He touches the deepest parts of your insides like he belongs there, like he was meant to be there, as if the way he turns his hips toward you is a vow in itself. You whimper at the feeling of it all and he nearly loses it.

“I’m so close,” you pants. Thank fucking God.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Cum for me,” he coos. “You’re doing so good. Fuck.”

Your gaze lingers on the shape of his mouth. You think about how his voice sounds when he calls you angel.

Your orgasm comes like a flower blooming, like a beam of light in the darkness. He feels it, too, so vividly like he shares your body. It feels strange how much he feels that he hasn’t felt before, and it makes him come undone right after you.

He pulls out of you and spills onto your stomach unceremoniously with something in between a grunt and a whimper. He’s all over you. You want to bury your body into his.

“Peter,” you whisper, your gaze languishing.

“Yes, angel?”

“I think I owe Ned fifty bucks now.”

He looks at you incredulously but you can’t keep the facade, bursting into laughter as he groans in annoyance and flops his body on top of yours.

“Ew, clean me up, at least,” you complain.

“Right,” he says, nodding. And he does, with a spare t-shirt from his floor absentmindedly while he shares a grin with you. “You serious, though?”

“Of course not,” you scoff. “Ned Leeds will never get anything over twenty bucks from me.”

He laughs and it sounds like heaven.

“You said you loved me,” you tell him.

“I do love you. I’ve always loved you.”

You could cry right now. Surely the influx of endorphins in your body is breaking the rest of your brain.

“I love you, too.”

You kiss him again, open-mouthed, teeth sucking slightly as his lips. He takes a fistful of your hair while his other hand caresses your jaw. It excites you when he breaks the kiss by pulling your hair. His cheeks dimple the slightest bit when he smiles at you.

“Don’t do that, you’re gonna get me hard again.”

“You have the stamina,” you shrug, hugging one of his oversized pillows to your chest.

“You’re cute.”

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

“How come you call me angel now?”

Peter shrugs. He rubs his hands on your calves.

“You’re my guardian angel. Always have been. And you’re not allowed to complain about it being corny because it’s true.”

Peter is shy all of sudden as if he hadn’t just fucked you. His brown hair is tousled to bedhead perfection, messy and slightly frizzy, and the warmth of his skin radiates from the way his whole body seems to blush in front of you.

“I have a proposition.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“Come on!” You nudge him, kicking him with your feet. You get off of his bed to rummage through his dresser drawers for an oversized t-shirt, just dodging his attempts to grab you by the waist.

“Okay. What is it?”

“We should use our webs next time.”

He blinks, smirking, indulging you for a second.

“Deal.”

tagging mutuals: @meliapis @cutetomholland @userholland @sparklingsin @tomdutch @userholland @vendettaparker @selfcarecap @simplykenni @uhlxis @cordiformity @sapphicsoie @seolaseoul @honeyspidey @logangarfield @justapurrcat @arachine @cocoamoonmalfoy @ohcaptains @aniqua

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #spiderman x you #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #peter parker angst #spiderman x reader #mcu!peter parker x you #tasm!peter parker x you #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland smut #peter parker x you

5K notes · View notes

deathbyathousandspiders · 10 months

Note

hey! could you write something where tony accidentally finds out the reader, his daughter, and peter are dating? they’re both scared for his reaction but then he’s actually super cool about it :)

I LOVE STARK!READER !!

i got saucy w this one :,) my b

!!! 18+ MDNI !!!

content warnings — steamy peter make outs, light swearing, sexual content, suggestive dialogue.

✨masterlist✨.

2.1k.

Nothing could beat lazy Sundays at the compound. The whole team was either MIA, on a mission, or training, so every room fell still with serenity. It was the perfect time for you to stick your nose in a book, and lounge around the empty estate. Your father was off somewhere across the complex working on some gadget, which left you free to roam around wherever you wanted.

Your hair gently tickled your bare shoulders as you tied it up, laying your book face–open on the kitchen island so that you could keep reading and grab a snack. The air conditioning nipped at the skin exposed from your minimal clothing; your black–cropped tank top and favorite pair of shorts didn’t protect you from the artificial frost in the air, but it certainly helped with the heat when you stepped outside.

Just before your hands fell back to your book, arms wrapped around your waist from behind. Their shape and placement was something so familiar, the touch brought you more comfort than startle. Cedarwood and bergamot were quick to fill your nose whilst your boyfriend’s head craned into the base of your neck. His fingers locked to the belt loops of your shorts, tugging you back into him so that he could feel more of you.

“I’ve been looking for you..” His voice was throaty. Needy. The pads of his thumbs traced tiny circles into either of your hips, gently pressing further into your skin when your hand stretched up to comb through his fluffy brown curls. His affection and body heat were a welcomed company in the cold of the kitchen.

A smile found your face, even though Peter couldn’t see it from where he was. “I missed you too, baby.” Humming, your fingers scratched his scalp. “D’you know who’s here right now?” Your voice grew hushed, heart racing with the small adrenaline rush infiltrated your system.

“Your dad’s in his lab, Steve and Natasha are in the gym, and Vision’s with Wanda in the meeting room, but otherwise.. Everyone else’s out..” Peter’s voice dropped an octave as he spoke just above a whisper, his lips finding your collarbone. “Sam, Bucky, Thor..” In between each name, he placed another kiss on your neck, only inching higher. The more skin he nipped at, the more your fingers curled around his hair, curving your neck so that he had more access to you. “Bruce, Clint, Rhodey, Pepper…” His whispers sent shivers down your spine, especially as his left hand slid under the fabric of your shirt.

As Peter trailed kissed up to your jaw, a shuttered moan caught between your lips. You fought the urge to roll your hips back into his, knowing that you couldn’t finish what you were starting. If anybody found you two, your secret relationship would be out, and your dad would give you hell for it. “Peter.. We can’t…” You spoke breathlessly, tugging at his hair; it was an attempt to pull him from your body, but you didn’t try too hard.

His lips hovered over his favorite soft spot in the crevasse of your jawline, brushing his teeth along the surface of it just to rile you. It certainly didn’t help that he aimed his breathy chuckle right at it, but god did it feel good. “Why not?”

You huffed impatiently, eyes half lidded whilst your entire body anticipated the gentle brushing of his lips against your neck. His cooling fingers teased at the bottom of your left breast, testing waters you two hadn’t touched before. Sure, you’d let Peter Parker touch you like this plenty of times before, but never in the open like this. Never in the open where your secret could be outed.

“Cause I–” You felt the tug of Peter’s smirk against your skin at how worked up you were already getting. “I’m reading…” You knew that Peter was well aware of how secretive you needed to be. ‘Reading’ was merely just to give him a hard time.

He let out a quiet sigh, pressing a lingered kiss to your cheek. His thumb lightly rubbed at your rib cage beneath your shirt, but otherwise, he gave up his attempt. “You’re sure I can’t even get one kiss?” He asked, pouty even in his tone of voice.

You turned your head to look at him. Your eyes glanced at his lips just to tease him, “Over my dead body, Parker.” Your voice still sang out low, wanting nothing more than to taste him right then and there.

Peter’s face inched closer to yours, snickering quietly at your stubborn response. “Not if your dad kills me first..” He mused, voice still just as groveled as before. His lips nearly brushed against yours, but the sound of the floorboards outside of the kitchen made you both add three feet between you.

“Why would I kill you?” Your dad’s voice hummed nonchalant, as if he wasn’t interrupting such an intimate moment. He walked right through the thickening tension like it wasn’t the weight that it was. Tony’s focus seemed to be glued to his holographic wrist watch, completely oblivious to Peter’s hand slyly slipping out from under your black camisole.

You and Peter glanced at each other, astonished that he seemed so unfazed and unaware. Perhaps, your father didn’t hear as much of the conversation as you assumed he did. Maybe he truly was clueless to the blush coating your cheeks, and the timid bulge poking at the fly of Peter’s jeans.

“Uhh..” Peter lost every thought that occupied his brian. “Because I ate the last Pop Tart. I–I just figured you’d be upset.” Even he didn’t sound convinced about the excuse.

Finally, Tony looked up from his watch, eyeing you first, then Peter. This was the closest you two were to getting caught, and even though the AC was cranked fairly high, it felt like the air suddenly ran much cooler. Your heart was in your throat, easing a little when your father walked over and placed a gentle kiss on your cheek.

Tony leaned back on the kitchen island beside you, crossing his arms over his Nirvana band–tee. “Lucky for you, kid, I’ve got a whole secret stash in my lab.” He spoke with his typical Tony tone, “I’ll let you off the hook this time.”

Little did you or Peter know that your father actually heard most of your conversation. How much of it? He’d never tell you. Tony Stark knew that you and Peter had the hots for each other for a long time. He was just waiting for both of you to come clean about the relationship, or for the perfect time for him to address it. He’d known for a while, but the longer it took, the more entertaining it was to act like he was oblivious to it. Now, how he found out about the relationship, he’d never tell that to you either.

“Are you calling my daughter a liar, Rogers?” Tony asked the blonde from across the pool table, watching as the captain missed the shot with no reaction.

Steve stood upright, stepping back so that Tony had room to make his turn. “No. No, Tony.” He started, “All I’m saying is that if Peter were chivalrous, he would ask you for your permission first. That’s all.”

The topic of the evening was why you and Peter both flaked out of game night. Ever since Sam joked that you could’ve been bailing to go out together, every conversation Tony had was directed on how likely the possibility truly was.

His eyes squinted at Steve, readjusting his cue and stance in one swift movement. He knew Steve was traditional, but sometimes, Tony forgot just how traditional he really was. “They don’t need my permission. They’re teenagers.” Tony creased his hips, focusing on the pool table for a second. “Besides,” with a faint clank, Tony knocked two balls in with one hit, “Maybe she asked him out. It’s the twenty–first century.”

Steve sighed with a slight twinge of annoyance, both at Tony’s coyness and his success in their game. He leaned on his cue like a cane, watching the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist walk around the table again. “Alright, fine.” Steve huffed. “But if they are out canoodling tonight, what are you going to do about it?”

A focused glare glistened in Tony’s eyes as he bent over to take the shot. He pulled the cue back a few times, pondering on both his turn and the question. If he made this shot correctly, he could win the whole game; if you and Peter were really out on a date, what would he do?

Tony shoved the wooden rod in his hand, acing the shot just like he calculated. He subtly smirked to himself, looking back at Steve to answer his question. “I’ll find a way to give them hell for it.”

And that, he was. Ever since he caught you and Peter getting frisky on the security system later that night. That conversation happened months ago, and Tony still managed to make both of you incredibly jittery. He wasn’t entirely sure why it was such a big deal to tell him, or why you’d kept it a secret for so long, but he knew sooner than later you’d find a way to tell him.

Little did he know, Peter Parker was finding his way onto your bedroom in the thick of night after patrols.

You unlocked the door to your balcony, welcoming him in with the kiss you meant to give him hours earlier. Hungrily, your lips clasped with his, getting drunk on his taste, and lacing your fingers in his hair. “God, I missed you..” You spoke between kisses.

“Missed you too, baby..” Peter let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, finally able to relax in your presence.

Both of you took steps towards your bed, slow and steady to avoid the lack of contact. Peter’s mask was lost somewhere on your bedroom floor, and you wasted no time to press the button on his chest and strip him from the suit he’d been wearing.

Peter got to your bed first, sitting back on it and quickly helping you climb on top of him. His hands grasped every inch of you that they could — grazing your neck, squeezing at your hips, grabbing your ass, and now inching up your inner thigh as you straddled his lap. His hips arched up to meet yours, pressing up against you in a delicious way.

Tongues greeting each other, you both moaned into each other’s mouth. You couldn’t get enough of each other, and the foreplay only reminded you of how little patience you had for it. You didn’t just want Peter right now, you needed him. Inside you. The ache in your lower stomach felt throbbing, and you were confident that your arousal was already coating the fingers Peter had at your upper thigh.

Just as you both parted the kiss to catch your breath, your bedroom door abruptly opened, light invading the room. Your blood ran cold as your head snapped toward the door in time with Peter’s; you both met the casual stare of your father. Tony Stark stood in the doorframe, unfazed, in pajamas, toothbrush in his mouth.

The room fell quiet, apart from the sounds of the bristles cleaning Tony’s pearly whites, and the faint heavy breaths that you and Peter tried to catch.

Taking the toothbrush out of his mouth, Tony was the first to break the awkward, deafening, silence. “Hey, Kid.” Tony’s head nodded upwards, as though he were greeting Peter in public. Not like he was speaking nonchalantly to Peter, flushed, in boxers, sat beneath his daughter’s thighs. “Next time, can you use the front door so that I don’t have to disarm the security system?” Even if little he knew, little was still more than nothing.

Peter stared blankly at him, sure as hell that this had to be some nightmare he just hadn’t woken up from yet. He glanced at you, then swallowed the frog stuck in his throat. “Uh– uh, yep! Yeah, I–uh, I can do that!” He wasn’t sure why his voice always raised two octaves when he was nervous, but it definitely made this moment that much more amusing for Tony.

With a small smile, your dad grabbed the doorknob with his freehand. “Thanks.” He then put the toothbrush back in his mouth, slowly shutting the door. “Have fun! Use protection.” His words were muffled and spat due to having his mouth full, but he shut the door after that.

As awkward as it must’ve been for you and Peter, Tony found that moment to be as satisfying as he pictured it to be. Boy, he would give Peter the talking to of a lifetime in the morning, but it thrilled him to know that you’d found someone who made you so happy.

He didn’t see need to kill Peter either, after all.

1K notes · View notes

peterparkers-bad-youtube-apology · 2 years

Text

Baby Blues

Pairing: Mob!Tom x Reader

Warnings: angst, postpartum struggles, anxiety

Summary: You’re struggling to get back to normal after the birth of your son

Masterlist

Join My Taglist

“Tom please,” you groaned in frustration, “Please just stay a little longer. I just need you to keep an eye on him while I shower.”

“Darling I can’t, I’ve got to get to this meeting,” he kissed your forehead and gave you a sympathetic smile, “I know you’re worried, but he’s sleeping. He won’t notice if you slip away for a moment and take a shower.”

“Tom he’s too young, I can’t leave him on his own yet.”

“I’m not saying leave him alone, just leave the bathroom door open so you can hear him if he starts crying,” he cupped your face, “I’ve really got to get going alright? I promise I won’t be long though. If you're really that worried just wait until I get back.”

“O-Okay,” you blushed, “Have a good meeting.”

“Thank you Peach,” he kissed both of your cheeks and then your lips, “I’ll let you know when I’m on my way back.”

You sighed, watching as he disappeared out the door, leaving you alone with the baby once again. Luca was sleeping peacefully in his bassinet, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to leave him alone there, even if you were just a few feet away in the shower. You were too worried that he would roll onto his stomach or somehow hurt himself. So instead of showering you laid on the bed and watched him sleep in the bassinet. You held one of his hands while he slept, massaging the back of his soft hand with your thumb.

It was nice, relaxing even, but he didn’t stay asleep for long. Luckily he wasn’t in a fussy mood and after a quick diaper change he was happy to lay on the bed while you cooed at him. Relief flooded over you when Tom finally returned home, you couldn’t wait to shower and finally take a few minutes to yourself. Feeling good about yourself had been a struggle since giving birth, and not being able to spend much time on self care certainly didn’t help.

“Tom,” you smiled happily as he entered your bedroom, “I’m so glad you're home.”

“Ah, me too Peach,” he pressed his lips to your and turned his attention to Luca, “How’s the little monster? Not giving you too much trouble I hope.”

“He’s good, I just hanged him, he might get hungry soon,” you began explaining, “You can just grab me if you need me.”

“I can handle it,” he assured you as he scooped Luca out of your arms, “I’m sorry I made you wait love, I want you to go take a nice, long, relaxing shower to make up for it.”

You let out a deep breath and nodded, “I-I will. Just come get me if he needs something.”

“I will,” he kissed you again before he began to coo at the boy in his arms, “Come on little devil, let’s give mommy a little break,” he peaked up at you, “Go on love, I’ve got him.”

You nodded and took another deep breath before you disappeared into the bathroom. You took a long and very hot shower that left you feeling very clean and very relaxed, at least until you left the bathroom. Tom and Luca were no longer in the bedroom where you’d left them, and it instantly sent your mind into a panic. Worriedly you ran to the nursery, but they weren’t in there either. Your heart was pounding and your mind was in overdrive, you were nearly in tears when you threw open Tom’s office door. At last you found them, Tom was seated at his desk with Luca’s bassinet right beside him.

Tom glanced up at you, a frown coming to his lips when he noticed how upset you looked, “What’s wrong Peach?”

You flushed angrily and stomped over to the bassinet. You lifted Luca out of it and cradled him to your chest, “You can’t just run off with him like that Tom!” you snapped as you rocked the boy in your arms, “How could you do that?!”

He went wide eyed, “I didn’t run off with, I just brought him to my office. We were only a few meters from you.”

“But I didn’t know where he was!” tears welled up in your eyes as you yelled at him, Luca started to bawl almost instantly, “A-And you’re supposed to be watching him!”

“I was watching him love, I had him right beside me,” he stood up, a deep frown etched on his face as he approached you, “Sweetheart what’s wrong?”

“You weren’t watching him!” you started to sob and pressed your lips to Luca’s head to try and calm him, “I-I didn’t know where he is and you just left him sitting there! I need to know where he is Tom, he’s just a baby.”

“I know, but I only took him to my office,” he rubbed your arms gently to try and soothe you, “Take a deep breath love, I’m sorry I scared you so bad but I promise I was taking care of him. He fell asleep so I laid him down, I wouldn’t just leave him there if he was awake.”

You took a deep, shaky breath and tried to compose yourself, “I just don’t want you taking him places and not telling me about it.”

“And I would never take him somewhere outside of the house without telling you,” he promised, pressing a kiss to one of your wet cheeks, “I only brought him to my office Peach.”

“But I’m his mom Tom, I should always know where he is. H-H needs me for everything, he’s only a month old.”

“I know Peach, I understand,” he cupped your face carefully, “I think you’re overreacting a bit though, and you seem really stressed. Why don’t I watch Luca today? You can go relax and take a little me day.”

“I was relaxed,” you flushed and turned away from him, “But then I couldn’t find my son and I got worried.”

“(y/n), it’s okay if you need help,” he brought you close to him again, “I know this has been way more stressful for you than it is for me and you’re trying to deal with postpartum stuff too, but I’m here for you, you can lean on me if you need to.”

“I don’t need help!” you back away from him again, “I’m not having problems Tom, h-he’s my son and I’m perfectly capable of taking care of him.”

“I didn’t say you weren’t love, I'm just trying to help,” he tried again, “I want to be here for you if you’re struggling.”

“I’m not,” you glared at him, “I’m taking Luca to the nursery. I need you to put the bassinet back in our room.”

“I will,” he promised with a sigh, “I love you.”

You just pursed your lips and left the room.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Tom decided to swing by the nursery around 2 to check on you and Luca. Luca was staring up at you while he ate, Tom watched as you cooed affectionately at him. He smiled at the sight and came to stand beside the rocking chair you were in.

“How are you darling?” he set his hand on your shoulder.

“Fine.”

“Wonderful, and how’s our little man?” he reached down to rub Luca’s cheek, “Eating lots, getting nice and strong?”

“Don’t bug him while he’s eating,” you scolded.

“Sorry,” he leaned over and kissed the top of your head, “Have you eaten yet Peach?”

You shook your head, “No, I haven’t had time.”

“You have to take care of yourself too,” he hummed, brushing some of your hair out of your face, “How about I go make you something and bring it up?”

“Will you stay and eat with me?” you blushed and looked up at him.

He nodded, “Of course, I’ll be right back.”

Tom ran to the kitchen and made a couple sandwiches for you both, he grabbed some fruit too, and a big water bottle for you. When he returned to the nursery you were burping Luca, patting his back and gently cooing at him. Tom offered to help but you refused so he sat up lunch on the floor for you instead. He pulled out a small cushioned mat and mobile for Luca and asked you to sit, but again you refused.

“He hasn’t burped yet,” you’d switched from standing to sitting with Luca laying down over your lap.

“You’ve been at it for a while Peach, maybe he just doesn’t have to burp,” he suggested, squeezing your leg gently, “Why don’t you put him on the mat for a little while so you can eat?”

You took a deep breath and nodded, “Okay, yeah.”

Tom kissed the back of one of your hands and took Luca from you. He carefully laid him on the mat and waited for you to join him. Tom had made sure to sit Luca beside him so he could take care of him if need be and you could focus on eating.

“Dig in,” he smiled at you.

A small smile graced your lips as you bit into the sandwich, “Thank you for making lunch.”

“I’m happy to do it,” he cleared his throat before continuing, “I’m sorry about earlier love.”

“It’s okay,” you sighed and blushed, “I-I know I overreacted, it’s just hard to be away from him right now. I get really anxious when he isn’t with me. I mean I’m his whole world right now, he needs me for everything.”

“I know he does darling,” Tom scooted closer to you and set his hand on your leg again, “It’s alright if you're feeling anxious or scared or anything else, I just need you to tell me so I can help you. I want to be here for you, and him. The last thing I ever want to do is make this harder on you.”

“Y-You aren’t,” you sighed, “You’re the only person I trust with him Tom. It’s just hard right now, I worry about him all the time, I just want to do everything right.”

“You are,” he assured, planting a kiss on your forehead, “(y/n) you’re a wonderful mother, it’s just like you said, you’re his whole world, he absolutely adores you. It’s okay if you're struggling with the postpartum stuff, the doctor said it can be really hard on some people, we can go talk to her about it if we need to.”

“It’s not that,” you insisted, “I’m okay, I’m just adjusting still. I’m sorry I snapped at you.”

“You don’t have to apologize, I understand that you’re under a lot of pressure and you’re hardly sleeping,” he frowned, “You know we could try the bottle again.”

You quickly shook your head, “No, no, he hated it Tom.”

“I know, but that was two weeks ago. They said between two and four weeks, it might be better now,” he sighed as Luca started to cry, you tried to get up to help but he stopped you, “Eat your lunch, I’ll take care of him.”

“He probably needs a pacifier,” you suggest.

“I got it Peach, just relax,” he took the small boy in his arms and began rocking him. Quickly the boy quieted down and began to coo up at his father, “If we got him on the bottles then I could start getting up with him in the night too, that way you could get some more sleep.”

Watching Tom rock him made you smile and you nodded, “Okay, but if he doesn’t like it still I don’t want to push him.”

“That’s alright, we’ll just give it another try,” he ticked the boy's stomach, “And you’re gonna start using those bottles aren’t you brat? You’ve been keeping your mom up non stop, she needs to sleep.”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Luca had been much more receptive to the bottles when you tried them again. It was nice because it allowed Tom to feed him at night so you could start catching up on some much needed sleep. Unfortunately the extra sleep did nothing to calm your nerves. You still couldn’t stand to be away from Luca for more than a few minutes, and you hated to see anyone but you and Tom holding him. Tom’s parents had come to visit and it took everything in you not to snap at his mom while she held Luca. You felt awful, you loved and trusted Nikki with all of your heart, but the second she picked him up your mind began spiraling to a million worst case scenarios.

Struggling so hard made you feel awful, like you were a bad mom. You thought both your son and husband deserved better, but you kept your struggles to yourself. Tom did his best to help you but work kept him very busy, and it was hard to get through to you when you wouldn’t open up to him. That’s why he had again brought up the idea of going talking to your doctor about possible postpartum struggles, but you just couldn’t stand to hear it. Everything he said just amplified your own anxious thoughts, you couldn’t handle Tom also thinking that you were a bad mother.

“I don’t need help Tom!” you snapped at him as soon as he brought the idea up, “I’m perfectly fine! You’re not even around enough to realize how fine I am!”

His cheeks flushed and his eyes widen, “I-I’m sorry, if you need me around more th-”

“No! That’s not what I said!” you pinched your nose in frustration. You didn’t want to make him feel bad, you just wanted him to think you were capable, “I’m just saying you’re not here all the time. I am perfectly fine okay? I can take care of our son, I’m gonna be a good mom. I’m just adjusting still, I can’t get used to all of this overnight.”

“I don’t expect you too, we both knew things would be different,” he reached for you, a deep frown came to his lips when you pushed him away, “It just seems like you're really struggling here and I want to help. I don’t want you to feel so stressed out all the time, and it’s alright if you don’t want to talk to me about it, but your doctor-”

“Will you stop bringing up the fucking doctor?!” you cut him off, suddenly tears were welling in your eyes and you found yourself crying again, “I don’t want to talk to the fucking doctor Tom. I don’t want to, I don’t need to, I-I can do this.”

You’re yelling had woken up Luca, causing him to start crying in his bassinet. Tom looked between you and him, his mouth hanging open as he debated what to do. Of course he wanted to reach out and comfort you but Luca demanded his attention. So he got out of bed and scooped the boy from his bassinet before sitting down on the edge of the bed. He cooed at the boy and rocked him while you sniffled alone on your side of the bed.

“(y/n)?” Tom peaked over you.

You refused to look at him, instead drawing your legs to your chest and hugging yourself tight, “What?”

“I love you.”

“Yeah, you too,” you mumbled into your knees.

“Do you wanna take him for a second?” he offered a now calmed Luca to you with a smile, “Look, he’s smiling at you, I think he wants you,” the tiniest smile graced your lips and you opened up your arms to take the baby from him. Tom wiped your eyes as he handed him over, “See? He totally adores you.”

You rocked Luca for just a moment before he started to sob once more. You felt your own anxiety spiking again and passed him back to Tom so he could sooth him again. Tom blushed as he took him, he apologized to you as he rocked the boy in his arms. He started to settle again and your heart dropped into your stomach.

“It’s probably his stomach,” Tom tried to assure you, “I mean he ate a little bit ago, he’s about due for a new diaper.”

You felt so awful and you were already so exhausted that you just didn’t have it in you to say anything else. You didn’t want to argue with him about doctors or whether or not you needed help, and you didn’t want to stay up and watch Tom take care of your son when you couldn’t. So you rolled over while Tom climbed out of bed, deciding it would be better for you to stare at the wall until you fell asleep.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

When you woke up the following morning you were still exhausted. Tom had gotten up with Luca throughout the night in an effort to let you get some more sleep, but it hadn’t really helped. Your anxiety kept you up through most of the night.

It certainly didn’t help that Luca had been in a fussy mood all morning. Nothing could keep his attention for more than a few minutes and when you sat down to try and feed him he refused to latch. He just kept crying and you did your best to soothe him while you moved him to your other breast, hoping that would fix the issue.

You ran into the same problem of him refusing to latch and you had no idea what to do. You tried some things the doctors told you could help him latch but none of them helped. He was obviously hungry, and you were trying to help, but he just wouldn’t eat. You felt awful listening to him cry and you tried to rock him and sooth him the best you could but nothing helped. It became too much for your sleep deprived mind and you found yourself starting to cry too.

“Come on Luca, you’ve got to eat,” you tried to prompt him, “We’ve done everything else, I know you’re hungry. We’ve done it a million times, you’ve just got to latch on okay? Come on,” you tried again but he only started crying harder when you brought his mouth to you, which made you cry even harder too, “I’m trying so hard Luca, I’m sorry, please eat for me.”

When Tom walked into the nursery he found the rocking chair facing the window, gently rocking back and forth. Luca was crying and when he stepped closer he was shocked to find you were sobbing just as hard. You had him cradled to your chest, like he was about to eat, but he was just bawling.

“What’s wrong?” Tom asked curiously.

“He won’t eat,” you sobbed, “I-I’ve been trying and trying and he just won’t latch on. I don’t know what to do Tom. I know he’s hungry but he won’t eat, I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.”

“You aren’t doing anything wrong,” he assured you, pressing a kiss to your forehead before he bent down in front of you, “Why don’t I grab a bottle and give that a try? It seems like you could use a minute.”

Reluctantly you nodded and passed Luca to him. Tom rocked the boy in his arms and cooed at him while he warmed up a bottle. Luca calmed down a bit while his father rocked him, but he kept crying until the bottle was ready. With no effort at all Tom got him to take the bottle, he stopped crying in an instant and made happy little sounds while he ate.

“There we go buddy. That’s better right?” Tom poked his nose with a smile, “Just wanted to be a brat huh?”

You were happy he was eating, but you hated how easily Tom had calmed him and gotten to eat. You hated that he’d taken the bottle over you. He was barely over a month old, he was supposed to love you more than anything in the world, but he’d picked a plastic bottle over you. It made you feel awful and reminded you of your failure to be the kind of mother he deserved. All you wanted to do was curl up in bed and cry.

“Tom?” you sniffled.

He smiled over at you, “Do you wanna take over?”

You shook your head, “No, I-I just really need some sleep. Could you watch him for a little while?”

“Of course,” he nodded, “Take all the time you need, I’ll stay with him.”

“Thank you,” your hands trembled as you stood.

Tom leaned over to give you a kiss, you barely let your lips brush his before you left the room. You ran right to your bedroom and threw yourself onto the bed. You pulled a pillow to your chest and ended up crying yourself to sleep there.

While you were sleeping Tom took care of Luca, but he came by your room to check on you. He found you were curled up on your bed, clutching a pillow with puffy, tear stained cheeks and red eyes. It made him feel awful, he wanted so badly to help you but he wasn’t sure how. He knew he couldn’t let you continue to feel so awful, he had to do something. Just talking to you didn’t seem like a great idea since last time he tried to get you to open up you’d just ended up fighting. Instead he ended up calling Harrison and his brothers over to help him come up with something. After a bit of plotting, Sam helped him cook a nice dinner for you and he went up to your room to wake you up. You were groggy and tired as he pulled you over to the nursery where Harrison was waiting.

“Why is Harrison here?” you blushed.

“Because he’s going to watch Luca for us,” Tom smiled happily at you but your heart rate skyrocketed instantly, “I know you don’t like being away from him though, so we aren’t going to go far. I just thought you and I could have a nice dinner down in the garden. Harrison will watch Luca and Sam and Harry are here too in case he needs help, but I’m sure he won’t.”

You pursed your lips, reluctant to hand over the baby in your arms, “I-I don’t know Tom.”

“(y/n) you don’t have to worry,” Harrison assured you, he stepped up to you with open arms, “You two will be just down stairs, I promise I’ll take the best care of him in the world.”

“Harrison is his godfather,” Tom reminded you, “We decided we trust him enough to raise him, I’m sure we can leave him in his care for just a few hours.”

“I do trust him,” you blushed, “B-But he’s so young.”

“I could come down there with you,” Harrison offered, “If you’d rather he be close to you I could come down and sit just a few feet away with him the whole time. It’s okay if you’re anxious about it, but Tom told me you’ve been really stressed and I want to help however I can. Even if it’s just watching the baby for a night.”

You took a deep breath before you passed Luca over to him, “I-It’s okay, you can stay up here with him. Just promise you’ll come get us if he gets too fussy?”

“Of course, go enjoy your date,” he wrapped his free arm around you and kissed the top of your head, “Try and relax a little.”

You nodded and kissed Luca’s head, “Be good for Hazzy okay?”

“He will be, he wants his mom to have a nice relaxing evening,” Tom kissed your cheek and took your hand, “Come on, let’s get some food in you.”

Tom led you downstairs, Harry and Sam were busy at work in the kitchen finishing dinner and dessert for you. They greeted you happily and insisted you go sit down and let them take care of you. Outside was a small outdoor dining table and chairs you and Tom had eaten at a lot before Luca was born. The fresh air felt nice and helped ease your nerves about being away from Luca.

“It’s nice out here,” you commented, “I don’t think I’ve been outside in a few weeks.”

“Dinner’s here!” Harry interrupted, beaming as he sat a plate in front of each of you, “I hope you’re both hungry.”

“It’s not good for you love,” Tom squeezed your thigh.

“I know, but I don’t want Luca to get sick.”

You giggled while he played waiter for you both, “Thanks Harry.”

“You’re welcome, enjoy,” he winked while he walked away.

Tom chuckled, “I helped Sam with some of the cooking so I hope it’s good.”

“I’m sure it will be,” you couldn’t help but glance up at the nursery window, “Did he eat again?”

Tom nodded, “Yeah, just a little bit ago, and he’s got plenty of bottles up there,” Tom frowned as your face fell, “What’s wrong?’

“Nothing,” you bit your cheek, “I-I’m trying not to worry about him too much.”

“It’s okay if you are. We can talk about it.”

You looked away shamefully, “It’s okay, I’m sure I’ll get over it.”

“Not if you don’t talk about it,” he pushed again, “I don’t want to fight again, but I really want to help you, and I know you’re struggling. You spent half of today crying, I hate seeing you like that.”

“It’s not a big deal,” you tried again, “I’ll be okay Tom.”

“It is a big deal, you’re my wife, I want to take care of you,” he scooted his chair closer to yours so he could take both of your hands, “I can tell you're struggling but I need you to let me in so I can help you. I feel awful (y/n), we’ve never had problems like this, I-I don’t know if I did something or what but I just want to fix it.”

Your bottom lip started to quiver and you felt your eyes starting to water again, “It’s not you Tom.”

“Then what is it? Please let me help, I’m your husband, I love you so much. I just want to give you, and our son, the best life I can.”

“I-It’s Luca,” you mumbled, sinking into your chair to try and hide, “I feel so anxious all the time. I hate it when I’m not with him, I hate it when anyone else holds him. I feel like I can’t trust anyone but you with him, and I just don’t know what to do. I feel like such a bad mom. I don’t understand why I’m struggling so much, a-and then today I couldn’t even feed him!” you were sobbing at that point, “He’s just a baby, he’s supposed to need me still.”

“(y/n),” he pulled you to his chest so you could sob against him, “You aren’t a bad mom, it’s alright to struggle. And he absolutely does need you, he might just prefer the bottle sometimes. It doesn’t mean anything, you’re still the one providing for him.”

“What if I never get better? What if I’m just terrified all the time and I smother him and he ends up hating me.”

“You won’t, I promise you won’t,” he rocked you in his arms while he spoke, “There is nothing wrong with needing help with this, struggling doesn’t make you a worse mom. The doctor told us lots of people struggle with postpartum, remember? And I’ve been doing a little research on it, it’s a lot more common than you think. You just had a baby, your hormones are crazy right now, and your body is trying to heal. It would be unfair to expect you to get better overnight,” he let out a deep sigh, “I know a lot of this is on me too. I haven’t been there as much as I should be, I shouldn’t be working right now. I should be taking time off so I can take care of you and Luca, I’m sorry I haven’t been carrying my weight here.”

You blushed and shook your head, “It’s not your fault Tom, I know you’re doing what you can.”

“I haven’t been doing enough,” he kissed the side of your head, “Look I talked to Harrison and my brothers and they’ve agreed to take charge for a while so I can take a step back and focus on you and Luca. It’s what I should have done from the beginning, I’m sorry that I didn’t.”

“You don’t have to do that Tom.”

“Yes I do, you’re my wife, and he’s my son. You two are my whole world, I need to be there for both of you,” he wiped your eyes while you sniffled and tried to calm yourself again.

“I-I’m sorry Tom,” you choked on your own words as you spoke.

“Sorry?” he frowned, “Darling you have nothing to be sorry for, I’m the one who fucked up.”

“B-But things have been so different,” you looked away from him, “I’m always tired and I look like shit all the time. My bodies all fucked up annd we can’t even have sex anymore, y-you deserve better than that.”

“Don’t ever say something like that to me again,” he said sternly, “Your body is not fucked up, your body just gave us our son, and now it needs time to heal, you need time to heal. I’m so sorry you’ve been feeling so bad about yourself, but I hope you know I still think you’re the most gorgeous person in the world, and I promise I always will. There is nothing on earth I would rather have than you and our son, I’m the luckiest person in the whole universe,” he pulled you back to him and you buried your head in his chest, “Now it’d be stupid for me to say I don’t care about sex, because I obviously like having sex with you, but I don’t expect that from you, and I never will. If you never wanted to have sex again it wouldn’t make me love you any less.”

“I wanna have sex again,” you mumbled against his chest, making him laugh and squeeze you again.

“Yeah I do too, I’d like to give Luca some brothers and sisters,” he sighed and rubbed your back gently, “But you know if this is too much and you don’t want to have any more kids after this then that’s okay too. All I want is for you to get better so we can enjoy our son together.”

“I just wanna be normal and be able to do things with him without freaking out.”

“You’ll get there darling, it’ll get better,” he promised, “And I’ll be here every step of the way for whatever you need.”

“Thank you Tommy,” you pulled back from him just enough to press your lips to his, “Luca’s really lucky to have you as his dad, and I’m even luckier to have you as my husband.”

“Are you crazy? We’re obviously the lucky ones,” he nuzzled his nose against yours, “I know you’ve been pretty against going to the doctor, and I don’t want to upset you by bringing it up again, but I really think you should think about it. She knows how to help you with this, and as much as I love you, I don’t have that. She'll be able to help you better than me, or anyone else, can.”

You flushed but ended up nodding, “I-I want to go see her Tom, I want to feel better. I want to be able to sleep more and take him out places and let other people hold him.”

“You will, I promise you will. We’ll call her first thing tomorrow so we can get in as quickly as possible,” he placed one of his hands on your cheek, “There’s nothing wrong with needing help, and there’s lots of people around you that love you and want to help you. I mean just look at tonight, Haz and my brothers dropped everything so they could be here for you. We all wanted to give you a nice night and help you relax for a little while. I promise we’ll all be here to help you get better too.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and buried your face in his neck. For the first time since you’d come home from the hospital you finally felt at peace. You knew it would still take time to get better, but it was a start. It was comforting just to know Tom would be there with you from now on, that you could lean on him until you were better.

“Thank you for doing all this Tommy,” you mumbled against his neck.

“You’re welcome Peach,” he kissed your head and squeezed you against him, “You really don’t have to mention it though, I’m just trying to be a good husband.”

“You’re the best husband.”

“You’re perfect,” he nuzzled his nose against yours again before he kissed you, “I love you.”

“And you’re the best wife,” he chuckled, “So how does my gorgeous wife feel about finishing our dinner? Then maybe we can talk about something that won’t make you cry for a while?”

You nodded, “That sounds perfect Tom.”

You smiled wide and pressed your lips to his again, “I love you too.”

Taglist:

1K notes · View notes