#tom holland fics
Text
panty stealer 2
DATE: JULY 12, 2023
summary: after the forbidden and surprising night of the ‘break-in’, you couldn’t get your mind off of peter. luckily, he couldn’t either, and finds his way back into your bedroom to invite you to a party.
requested: so many times yes!
words: 11.2k!! woah
warnings: SMUT (f- receiving [fingering, slight oral, masturbation, vibrator], praise kink, degrading kink, slight exhibitionism, dirty talk, and protected sex), language, mentions of marjuana/alcohol, and fluff
note: this was the most anticipated and loved of all my writings! i’m so thankful for everyone who liked part 1, i just had to write a part 2. enjoy!!! sorry if the gif is all weird again
—
so many thoughts flew through peter’s mind as he swung through the streets of massachusetts: what homework or projects he might have, you, class, praying flash doesn’t do anything stupid while he’s gone, you, hoping ned doesn’t have a panic attack from flash’s idiocy, and you you you.
he thought of your body and the way it felt underneath him while he pushed himself deep inside of you. and the whimpers you let out as you came. and the sound of your laughter through the palm of your hand. and the smile on your face as he kissed your forehead. he wished he had kissed you longer. he wished he had stayed longer. forever.
was that dramatic? maybe.
you were a recurring thought that never seemed to cease from his brain.
peter sees you around school sometimes—only on the days you two have class together. neither of you made an effort to approach the other, almost as if you expected the other person to do it first. you both sat far apart from each other, too afraid to move seats around and make it obvious. but peter’s gaze fell heavily over your shoulder too many times for you to not feel it.
every time you shifted around to face the back of the room, you watched him avert his wandering eyes to anywhere but you. it made you smile and giggle quietly behind your hand, and of course peter’s hearing picked up on the angelic sounds, causing his heart to skip against his ribs.
and then class would begin and you’d have to wait until next class to see him again.
peter wanted to go see you—talk to you. he really did. but he was so busy with school work and being spider-man that he didn’t have a night off. mid-terms were coming up, but that also meant thanksgiving break was in the rear view mirror. after halloween of course.
in college, halloween was like any other day. you didn’t get a day off to trick-or-treat and hang out with your friends. instead, you were given a pile of tests the week before.
not much of a treat, huh?
outside of college, however, people threw the best parties that night. one of those people obviously being peter. luckily, halloween was on a saturday, so everyone would be done with mid-terms and ready to party their asses off.
flash needed everyone and their mom to come for him to be satisfied (well, maybe not their moms). he’s going to blow up everyone’s phone telling them to invite every person they know. peter didn’t care who showed up. he knows that halloween is one of the biggest parties of the year (besides fourth of july). peter only wanted—no needed—one person to be there.
—
knowing it’s been weeks since he’s seen you and the party was only in a few days, peter had to come and see you. he had to make sure you got the invite. it was difficult to fit visiting you into his schedule, but like always, he made it work.
you were becoming important to him, a priority.
he would only be in and out because who knows what would happen if peter was caught in there? last time, flash got his car hit with a baseball bat. flash was so mad that he completely forgot about peter’s dare, even though it was the whole point of sneaking into the house. it was deserved, but peter didn’t want any of that happening to him. so, peter promised himself no funny business unless you were in his room.
ugh, but peter really didn’t want you around the frat boys. they were way too much.
the sky was pitch black besides the hint of stars that were sprinkled in the sky. it was a chilly, fall night that made peter want to cozy up and pass out in his bed. but he had more important things to do first.
after a boring night of patrol, peter sneaks into his room through his opened window. without making too much noise (unlike flash), he quietly changes out of his suit and packs it into his closet in a box labeled books. peter is certain that no one, especially flash, would ever open that box. so he fixes his appearance by adjusting his shirt in the mirror, checking his teeth, and messing with his wild hair. on impulse, he throws on a cap to better hide himself. with that, he jumps out his window once again, shutting it closed on his way down with his sticky fingers.
like he’s done once before, peter sneaks across the street to the forbidden sorority house. he stares at the windows; all darkened bedrooms, except for one. peter wasn’t one hundred percent sure that that single lit bedroom was yours, but he was willing to test his luck.
for you.
peering at his surroundings, peter flips his hat backwards and slowly crawls up the side of the house. his fingers latch onto the windowsill as he very slowly lifts his head over it. he notices that it’s slightly cracked open before his gaze is seering through the glass.
you have got to be fucking joking.
your body lays sprawled across your bed as a delicate hand wanders between your parted legs and slides your infamous panties to the side. your torso is covered in the same mit t-shirt from that night, draped over your lavish figure tantalizingly. a laptop plays a pornographic scene of some sort, headphones plugged in one ear.
god, he wanted to touch you so bad.
he wondered if you were thinking of him. recalling how his fingers caressed down your body and how they touched every inch of your skin. but you couldn’t be, right? it’s been weeks and peter hasn’t made a move. you’ve probably moved on from that night like nothing happened. peter should probably go, leave you alone during such an intimate time—
“mm, peter,” your angelic voice hums a quiet moan that was only loud enough for peter’s hearing. peter feels his cock twitch needily at your noises, hissing to himself as you whimper his name. “feels so good.”
well, that’s just like a goddamn invite.
using every skill he has learned from being spider-man, peter yanks open the window and creeps inside. you were too emerged in your fantasies; eyes screwed closed as you listened attentively to the ongoing video. you failed to notice peter’s looming presence over your bed, even with only one headphone in. your noises continued, spurring peter’s next actions on.
without saying a word, peter lays his hand over yours, which is rubbing cute circles over your clit. your movements freeze and your eyes fly open. your mind doesn’t register the sight before you, so your breathing stops and your lungs get ready to scream out every millimeter of oxygen in you. but peter slips his other hand over your mouth before you could alert the entire neighborhood of his presence.
peter could sense the erratic beating of your heart as your tense muscles very gradually soften once you realize it’s him. once you’ve calmed down enough to not scream, you take your free hand and lower peter’s from your mouth.
he came back.
“p-peter, i didn't know you were coming,” you weren't sure what to say. your mind was still spinning like a top toy and your heart was beating like a galloping horse. your skin was burning underneath him, full of embarrassment and immense desire. “a head’s up would have been nice…”
“i’m sorry for the interruption…” peter says, eyes dragging down your body. his hand moves above yours gradually. you inhale sharply as peter guides your hand.
“you don’t seem sorry,” you retaliate as the friction from your hand with the help of peter’s begins to rile your body up again. you feel the wetness seep from your cunt, aching and needy for more. for more of him.
“how come you’re so wet?” peter completely ignores you, and removes your hand from your pussy with a gentle toss. peter didn’t expect anything tonight, but he especially didn’t expect to find his little angel with her hands between her legs. you gasp when his fingers are directly touching you, instantly clenching around nothing. his fingers are a bit chilly, in contrast to your flamy skin. “is it from the video?”
“n-no,” you stutter between needy pants as his fingers threaten to sink into your pulsing hole. your legs spread wider for him, inviting him closer to you. you slam the laptop down with shaky fingers to show him that you no longer need it.
“then what’s got you so wet?” two fingers dip into your cunt to persuade you to talk, but it’s doing the opposite. you bite your lip to hide the traitorous moan that threatens to escape. heavy arousal coats your labia while he pumps in and out of you easily, waiting for an answer.
“i was thinking of you,” you admit, hips rolling into his touch greedily. “wondering if you’d ever come back.”
peter’s heart saddens at the thought of you waiting for him. this whole time peter assumed you forgot about him, when in reality, it was the exact opposite. and there was sticky evidence to prove it.
“i’m right here, angel. what were you thinking about?” his body leans down hovering over yours, causing your body to sink into the mattress.
“thought about you climbing through the window, just like you did. imagined you’d fuck me, like you promised,” you moan quietly between words, trying to sound cohesive. hearing you say such vulgar words has peter’s cock twitching in his pants. with peter, you weren’t afraid to be straight to the point and tell him what you want. peter admired that, and would probably do anything you asked him to.
“with time, i’m a man of my word, baby.”
close and personal, peter interlocks his lips with yours. your frolicking hands drift to his warm neck, caressing the nape as you melt into him. peter inserts a third finger into you, eliciting a muffled moan against his lips. the action opens up your mouth and allows peter to effortlessly glide his tongue inside.
his fingers ram into you at a deliriously fast pace, causing your mind to haze into a euphoric state. it was impressive how peter could be kissing you unforgettably, but also skillfully pleasuring you with his hands. peter seemed like a man full of secrets and skills that you were dying to know.
who is peter parker?
fogging up your mind, your muscles tense and your back continues to arch until your stomach is touching his. your legs threaten to close from the overwhelming pleasure from his fingers, but you battle to keep them wide. his mouth trails down your neck and attacks the sensitive skin below your ear. teeth digging into your lip, you withhold all of your noises that peter so desperately wants to hear.
“if we were alone, you wouldn’t be allowed to be quiet,” he husks in your ear before trailing further down your neck. his voice was every level of attractive, pushing you closer to the edge. peter continued to check off all of your invisible boxes of turn ons.
“i know,” your voice was delicate and strained, and peter could tell you were close.
your walls gripped his fingers eagerly, and your stomach tightened up. it was embarrassing that you were so close so fast, but you couldn’t hold it any longer. once his fingers curled one last time inside of you, you were a goner.
“come for me, baby,” he demanded quietly, so you did.
your orgasm washed over you like a tsunami, drenched in blissful euphoria. peter worked you through your high by softly rubbing your legs and coaxing every last drop out of you until you were sensitive to the touch.
without having to ask, peter lowers himself to your mound and yanks your panties down and off your legs. he then cleans up your mess with his skillful tongue, licking and slurping all of your juices. your sensitivity causes you to be squirmy, but he’s done before you know it and then you’re left reminiscing.
although he was right in front of you, you missed his touch already. you missed him inside of you because it made you feel connected, intertwined. you didn’t want him to leave you again for weeks and come back on a random week day. or even worse, never again at all. you hoped that it didn’t become a pattern because you were getting attached to him, whether you liked it or not (you did), and that wasn’t a healthy pattern to be attached to.
peter’s body hovers over yours once again, held up by his muscular arms. your eyes attach to every detail on his face, admiring and memorizing his features in fear that he’ll leave again. he gazes at you like a living daydream, ethereal underneath him. one of his hands caresses your supple cheek, lightly swiping away your frisky hair. you practically purr into his touch, melting at his gentleness.
“peter,” you start, voice as fragile as thin glass.
“y/n.”
“please, don’t leave,” you insist in a whisper, hoping he’d stay. but you know he can’t.
“you know i can’t,” he says as you begin to sit up. see?
“when will i see you again? you can’t just… show up at any time,” you huff, sitting up straight as peter takes a seat beside you.
“i know i know…” peter thinks for a moment before reaching into his pocket. “here. you can put your number in my phone.”
your heart skips a simple beat. you extend your arm to snatch your phone on your nightstand before hesitatingly grabbing peter’s. you switch devices and enter your numbers. you label your name as ‘y/n :)’ and then you trade back phones, but don’t look at them.
“c’mere,” peter says and you curl your body into his. his warmth was addicting and cozy, and could easily make a great pillow for the future. “i’m sorry for not coming back sooner. i’ve been pretty busy with… everything i guess. i should’ve told you.” with your head cradled in his chest, he kisses your rumpled hair genuinely.
a sweet apology. could he get any better? is he just a figment of my imagination?
you lift up your head so you could see him looking down on you. “apology accepted, parker. but i feel like i’m being manipulated with your kisses.”
“how was i supposed to know you’re a sucker for forehead kisses?”
“everyone is a sucker for forehead kisses!” you whisper yell causing him to laugh wholeheartedly as quiet as possible. he kisses your head a few more times, making your heart full of affection and care.
how did you get lucky enough for peter parker to fall into your life? or more specifically, break into your house on two accounts?
“you never fulfilled your promise,” you said, referring to him having sex with you. don’t misunderstand, you were very grateful for what he gave you, but to be direct… you were greedy, needy, and missed his dick.
no time for beating around the bush.
“like i said, with time, i’m a man of my word,” which, in other words, means he’s not having sex with you. tonight, at least. you can’t help the small frown that appears on your lips.
“how much time? a girl has needs, you know,” you rose your eyebrows and pointed towards the closed laptop. peter puffed under his breath, causing you to smirk.
“there is a party this saturday… at my place. you should come,” peter informs.
“should i come or do you want me to come?” it was a test.
“if this is some sexual innuendo, yes—”
“jeez, get your mind out of the gutter, peter!” you roll your eyes and softly shove his chest, but a smile never ceases from your face. that only causes him to wrap his arms around you and squeeze you harder against his firm body.
he must live at the gym.
“you started talking about sex first!”
he’s not wrong.
“of course, i want you to come to the party, y/n,” peter smiles as his eyes wandering over every inch of your face. in any other scenario, gorging eyes would’ve made you feel insecure, but peter’s made you feel all flushed and tingly. “you’re the only person i want to be there.”
your smile enlarges even more and a rush of heat crawls up your neck. instead of kissing his lips for being such a romantic goofball, you decide to pull off his backward cap and kiss his forehead. the rosy blush that cascades his pale cheeks doesn’t go unnoticed.
“see! everyone likes forehead kisses!”
just as you say those words, peter hears footsteps padding across the hallway. he really didn’t want to leave you again, but he also really didn’t want to get caught. he sighs and you notice his change of demeanor, causing another frown to arise on your lips.
“you have to go, don’t you?”
“i’m sorry—”
“it’s okay. i’m glad you came. i’ll see you on saturday,” you smile genuinely and kiss his forehead again. he smiles, but catches your luscious lips instead. peter almost forgot about the footsteps, always lost in the moment with you.
he is obsessed with kissing you.
however, the moment is too short for both of your liking. peter struggles to pull himself away from you, but does because each footstep in the hallway is like a warning. with a finally kiss to your forehead, peter smiles endearingly before approaching your window, ready to jump out.
“oh, and peter?” as his hands are on the window, he turns around to look at you. “don’t forget these.”
you fling your panties at him and his quick reflexes have no problem catching them. you take his hat that he left on your bed and lay it on top of your head. peter cannot describe the fond feeling that bubbles up in his chest at the sight of you in his apparel. he’s sure he would die seeing you in his clothes if he’s starstruck from you in his cap.
a familiar heated flush blossoms on his cheeks as he lightly shakes his head with a few chuckles.
“you’re ridiculously cute,” is the last thing he says before he slides out the window and jumps down onto the ground.
ridiculously cute. you’ve never been called that before. are you surprised that you like it a lot? nope.
you still don’t understand how he doesn’t break a few limbs from jumping out of a two-story house, but again, that’s just one of the many things he’s skillful at. you wondered what else he was capable of. like you said, he seemed like a man full of secrets. some people thought of curiosity as a curse, but you saw it as a pathway to unknown opportunities.
not even a minute after peter left, there’s a knock at your bedroom door. you answer, skeptical, and one of your friends walks in.
“i know we’re not allowed to have any guys here, so you get kind of lonely, but when you’re watching porn at midnight can you please turn it down? i could hear it at the end of the hall,” she rubs her eyes and elicits a yawn. your eyes widen and you swallow thickly at the idea of the entire house hearing you.
you really thought you did a good job at being quiet…
“uh, yeah, sure thing,” you half smile as you apologize and wish her a better goodnight. you flick your lamp off and shift comfortably on your bed.
you gaze at the ceiling and imagine peter’s face above yours. you envisioned his lips, his cute nose, and each precious beauty mark on his face. it was easier to fall asleep knowing what his phone number was, and that saturday was only three days away.
—
those three days could not have been longer. the party was your motivation to wake up every day and go to class, eager as ever. you only saw peter once at school and that was not enough to satisfy the yearning you had inside of you. that yearning was also like an alarm clock that sprung you out of bed at eight a.m. on saturday.
you knew you had hours to waste, so you did all the things you had been procrastinating on: laundry, tidying up, few assignments due next week, and you even dusted parts of the house. yeah, you were that bored.
you weren’t sure what time the party started, but you would probably be able to tell from your window. you had no idea what you were going to wear even though you were thinking about it since wednesday. you believed you had a good sense of style, at least to your liking, but you don’t have all the clothes that you wish you had. living on a college budget wasn’t easy, but you made do.
at this point, it was only two in the afternoon, and you were about to run into the wall until your head was bleeding just to waste more time. this was the downside to having a ridiculously big crush on someone; the inescapable waiting. when crushing, time seems prolonged when you’re without them. but when you’re with them, the world seems to stop completely. it’s like nothing matters but just you two.
you remembered back to wednesday when peter was sitting on your bed and holding you snug against his body while you talked about such a mundane thing like a party invite. you could never erase the feeling of his kiss, his lips forever etched onto yours. the kiss felt like hours, but it was merely a minute before he had to pull away. you imagined what it would be like to just be with him without worrying about anything else. these daydreams cause the yearning in your chest to expand like a balloon, which is never going to satisfyingly explode until you’re in his arms again.
without making a big deal out of it, you needed a good outfit. so, you knocked on one of your “sister’s” doors. you weren’t a fan of the term “sorority sisters,” especially because none of these girls felt like sisters to you. yes, you were all decent friends who went to parties and went out to eat once a month together. but you weren’t as close to them as you were with your friends back at home. you missed them, but you’ve all moved on with your lives.
violet answers with a cheery come in and you walk into her room. you hint that you’re looking for a nice dress for the party tonight.
“i’m glad you came to me first,” she smiles as she stands up from her bed. she heads toward her closet, which is practically pouring out clothes that would laugh at yours. she had so many colors and choices, it was almost overwhelming and you weren’t even the one really choosing. “so. who’s the guy?”
“what? who said anything about a guy?”
“the fact that you want a nice dress for a frat party. you’ve never cared before, so it has to be a guy. so who is it?”
“it’s no one in particular,” you lie easily as you sit on her bed. she sifts through each dress in deep thought.
“so, you want a nice dress to catch any guy’s attention? i don’t buy it,” violet shakes her head, causing her long, black hair to wave.
not that you really care if she believes you, but what’s a believable lie? you know she’ll probably nag you about it the entire night if you don’t give her a valid excuse.
“if i’m being honest, i’m trying to, you know,” you raise your eyebrows high, motioning your hands as she whips around to face you. she nods as a knowing smirk grows on her lips. you weren’t technically lying–you did want to get laid, but you only had one person in mind that could do the job.
“i see. that’s all you needed to say,” she flips through more dresses before pulling out a short red one that makes your eyes widen. it looked nice, too nice, and you didn’t want to ruin anything she had because you’d probably spend the next few months paying to replace it. “let’s get you ready.”
“but the party is in–”
“nuh uh, we’re getting ready now. also, we’re making it into a costume.”
–
for once, you’re glad you listened to violet about getting ready early because it was already six o’clock by the time you guys were both finished. you somehow gave in to the idea of her dolling you up into some kind of sexy spider woman? you didn’t really know. she thought the red and blue accented your skin nicely. violet did what she wanted. you didn’t even plan on wearing a costume in the first place, so you didn’t really mind.
your hair was down and wavy. you had her short red dress on and white fishnet tights. she also gave you royal blue heels. she painted black webs on your eyes with eyeliner while you wore a matching red lipstick. it was a lot more than you expected to see on yourself when you looked in her vanity mirror. hopefully, the look is as attractive and alluring as violet says it is. meanwhile, violet dressed as “slutty catwoman” (her words, not yours).
and yes, violet was going. everyone at mit would be going. it was one of those annual parties that's been going on for years, even before your class was there.
you enjoyed that; traditions and routines. they created memories and showed the change through each generation. thinking back, you bet your ancestors would die of a heart attack if they saw the way you were dressed and the things people did at these parties. but none of those thoughts stopped you from leaving the sorority house and walking across the street to the frat party.
you hadn’t even walked in yet, and the music was booming throughout the neighborhood. through the blinds that failed to close, you could see the technicolor lights flashing in redirection. cars of every shade were parked for probably miles down the street, and you knew as the night went on the number of people would only increase.
violet walked in front of you, strutting through the door like she owned the place. you followed behind her almost cowardly, but you weren’t really looking for everyone’s attention anyway. just one.
however, you forgot that the whole reason violet believed you were wearing this dress in the first place was for that exact reason. so, when she realized your shyness, she turned around and shook all your nerves out of you. literally. she shook your shoulders until you were woozy and nearly stumbling over your heels (you are now wishing you wore sneakers). it was like you were already tipsy by the time she was done.
she dragged you towards the kitchen without any words, seeming as though you wouldn’t be able to hear them over the blaring music and loud chatter. bottles of liquor decorated the marble countertop along with blue and red solo cups, trashed like a 90’s high school movie. violet grabbed the first bottle she saw, pouring the dark liquid into a cup she somehow snagged.
“your turn,” she shoves the bottle and cup towards your body as a stranger bumps into you from the back. the place was getting packed, making it hard to find anywhere to breathe. “some liquid courage.”
“i’m okay. i will later, though,” you rejected, not liking the idea of being drunk when you had a goal in mind. by the end of the night, you really wanted to be in peter’s bed. but you hated the idea of being drunk while having sex, especially when you wanted to enjoy it. you only indulged in drunk sex when you really needed to get off and one; didn’t want to remember what happened, or second; didn’t want it to last longer than that night. mostly the latter.
you know what it feels like to be with peter, and you craved to feel like that again. just thinking about him made you feel a thousand different kinds of wonderful; heart racing, stomach swirling, core burning. you knew the second you found him it would be hard to keep your hands away.
–
peter finally decides to shuffle down his stairs for the first time tonight. when the roaring music began an hour ago, he knew the party had, too, but he didn’t feel like going down yet. he couldn’t help but peek out his blinds in his bedroom, waiting to see you crossing the street.
he swears he was in his bedroom for at least an hour, occasionally peeking out the window, impatiently waiting for your arrival. with a slight frown on his face, he realizes that you might not be coming.
why would you?
peter assumed that you just now noticed how creepy it was for him to sneak into your bedroom. twice. maybe all your smiles and kisses were just silent pleads to make him leave the room faster. but your laugh seemed so genuine, and the sweet, little noises that you muffled under your palms were from real pleasure. right?
you were moaning his name.
he imagined you strutting across the street in a jaw-dropping dress, one that would send him into a frenzy. but you would be too humble and would shrug it off like you were the most average person on earth. peter would scoff and take you into his arms and drag you up into his room. then he would admire you until you believed you were the most gorgeous girl he’s ever seen.
open mouth kisses etched on your naked body. bites and pinches of tease. your sweet hums and delicately broken moans. nails clawing into his tough skin greedily. his voice guiding and praising you while yours is disheveled in pleasure.
god, he’s so in his head. he’s so far gone. and he barely knows you.
like a daydreaming idiot, he slaps the side of his head a few times to get his brain back into reality. he stares at his appearance in the mirror, silently motivating himself to have a good night whether or not you show up.
taking a deep breath, he finally exits his bedroom. of course, the music is booming and the place is already as crowded as a concert. peter trails down the stairs, but stops midway when he sees the top of your head.
is that you? how did he miss you?
moving swiftly down the steps, he weaves his way through the crowd, his fake glasses nearly slipping down his face. multiple people try to stop and chat with him, but he doesn’t indulge for long, having a clear destination in mind.
but, just when he reaches the kitchen, you’re gone.
he swears he just saw you. maybe he’s going crazy.
releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding, peter pushes through a few more bodies before reaching the sliding glass door. he squeezed himself outside and inhales. when you’re in a house full of sweaty, drunk people smoking weed, you become more grateful for the fresh air.
he removes his glasses and tucks them into his neckline. his eyes gaze at the backyard’s minuscule decorations, and then to the sky. he stares at the stars as they wink at him, reassuring that everything will be alright. he wishes that the town won’t need saving tonight and that everyone will be on their best behavior. he hopes that you’ll come to the party, even if it doesn’t end with you in his arms.
even though that’s all he really wants.
“peter?” a voice speaks, and the sound was so elegant and soft that he thought the stars themselves were talking to him. he forces himself to blink a few times before spinning around to face you.
he nearly faints when he sees your costume.
short red dress, white tights, blue heels, black webs. you were dressed as spider-man, or spider girl, and you looked absolutely fucking stunning. you would be the death of peter. seriously, he thinks he might pass out from lust and admiration looking at you. you were just so drop-dead gorgeous, he couldn’t believe it.
maybe the stars were on his side tonight. unless they wanted to kill him…
“are you okay?” your soft voice of concern walks straight up to him, delicate hand resting on his shoulder.
“y-yeah,” peter stutters before coughing. is it surprising that he’s already half hard? a small blush cascades his pale cheeks. “you look… really fucking good.”
there’s no dancing around it.
now, familiar heat warms your neck, cheeks, and ears at his compliment. his voice was low, so only you could hear it over the screaming music, and it was laced with a small growl that had your stomach flipping. your hand fell from his shoulder.
“thanks,” you couldn’t think of what else to say, but then you looked at his outfit, which was little to none. actually, he was wearing normal clothes. peter was probably the only person at the party without a costume. “i guess i had to go all out since you decided not to wear anything. it’s your party and you didn’t think to dress up?”
peter laughs, breaking any invisible tension that might have been there. god, you loved his laugh. it was so childlike and full of joy, that you couldn’t help but smile.
“i have a costume. hold on,” peter puts on his glasses.
“if you say you’re a hot nerd—”
“nuh uh, i’m a super hot nerd,” he then rips the buttons off half of his flannel, presenting the superman symbol on his chest. rolling your eyes, it was your turn to laugh. your hand covers your face at his silliness as you lean against the nearby wall for support.
“you’re such an idiot.”
“i can’t be a nerd and an idiot, angel.”
“somehow, you make it work,” you both chuckle with huge smiles on your faces, unable to look away from each other.
“hey, dickwad,” flash abruptly appears from the sliding glass door that you two were standing by. he was dressed as spider-man, which nearly made peter cry laughing out of irony when he first found out this morning, but he kept that to himself. “—oh, hey, y/n. nice costume! at least someone has taste.”
“superman is a great superhero—”
“whatever, dude. at least spiderman is real!” flash shouts before parading away, repeating the statement to his next victims that will hear him.
“what do you have against spider-man?” you ask, leaning against the rough wall by just your arm. you were too afraid to have the dress touch it, in fear of ripping or ruining it.
“nothing,” peter shrugs.
“oh, c’mon,” you shove at his shoulder playfully. “just say you don’t believe in him. it’s okay.”
“what! of course, i believe in him, he’s not santa claus.”
“oh my god, santa isn’t real?!” you pretend to be shocked, hands slapping your cheeks. peter lightly chuckles and rolls his eyes before nonchalantly grabbing your hand. your heart speeds up in your chest at his simple movement while your breathing halters.
and just like that he’s in control.
“do you want to get a drink?” peter’s thumb plays with the skin of your knuckles while he waits for your answer. but you can’t think of anything right now besides the soft caress being tattooed onto you.
“no, i’m not in the mood to drink tonight,” you replied, hoping that gave peter a hint at how you wanted the night to go. peter wasn’t as stupid as most guys, so you have high hopes that he understood the foreshadow.
“well, what are you in the mood for?” his voice was low again, speckles of lust wavering in it. he takes a step closer to you, and you can’t help but lay flat against the wall. you weren’t even thinking about the condition of the dress anymore. you swallowed as your stomach burned in anticipation.
“somewhere quiet,” your eyes flickered between his darkening eyes and his pink lips.
“it won’t stay quiet as long as you’re there,” a cheeky smile rises up on his lips as heat floods through your body. you hit his shoulder lightly, embarrassment flushing your cheeks.
following him and his contagious smile, peter drags you through the crowds of people. there were more people in the house than when you arrived, but you’re not surprised. the upstairs section of the frat was basically off-limits to most people, unless you really had to go to the bathroom and the downstairs one was taken. you’ve been to the house a few times, but you’ve never stayed long enough to go upstairs.
but tonight everything is different.
unlike your wooden floors, peter’s are carpeted, so you’re walking very carefully on your heels. when you reach the top step, your calves are slightly burning from the exercise.
looking both ways, peter leads you towards his bedroom at the end of the hallway, hands intertwined. it felt secretive, and a part of you liked it. he closes the door right when you got inside, locking it quickly. but while he’s doing so, your hands release from his to explore his room. he rushes to clean his messes books.
peter had a gray and black color scheme that was alluring. his dark gray sheets looked soft and plush, and you could imagine yourself sleeping in them every night. were you getting ahead of yourself? maybe. you barely knew him, but you felt like you’ve known him forever. you glance around his room some more, trying to get to know him.
he had two band posters; led zeppelin and guns n’ roses. you didn’t expect the second one, but it impressed you. his desk was scattered with textbooks and papers like he had just been studying. turning around you see his two-mirror closet. it was slightly ajar, letting you see a few boxes.
“what’s in the boxes?” you ask, slowly creeping your way towards them. you don’t miss peter’s eyes widening slightly and his cheeks heating up. now you have to know.
“n-nothing important,” peter scratches the back of his neck, and if he’s trying to hide something, he’s doing a horrible job at it. on the sides of each box were black handwriting.
“trophies and medals,” you read aloud, inching your way towards the door, “books—”
“y/n, don’t!” peter exclaimed nervously with a hand reaching out to stop you, causing you to turn around and eye his expression. he swallowed thickly, praying you didn’t open the box. his anxiety was at an all time high. “there’s… personal stuff in there.”
“okay, okay. you don’t want anyone to know you have sexy magazines,” you rolled your eyes and huffed out a chuckle. “i get it. i’m not jealous.”
“yeah…” peter’s cheeks don’t cool down, still red and warm. for some reason, he senses the awkward tension arising in the atmosphere around you both, and he doesn’t know how to tame it. you both know what you want now, but it’s hard to bring it up without being so forward.
“did i tell you that you look good in glasses?” you speak after the few seconds of silence. you get yourself comfortable on the edge of his bed, unstrapping your heels from your already sore feet. you groan. “feels so much better.”
“thanks,” peter joins with a never-ending blush, sitting next to you. he’s itching to touch you.
why was it so much easier when he broke in?
he turns to face you and stares at your eye makeup. you had little black webs on the corner of your eyes. for some strange reason, the idea of you dressing up as him really turned him on. even if you didn’t know it was him.
“peter,” you said a bit breathlessly. your heart was racing with anticipation and lust. he hadn’t even noticed you were staring right back at him. you could look at each other for hours, but you really wanted more. needed it. subconsciously, you were both leaning forward towards your lips.
“yeah?” peter’s gaze never faltered. his honey brown eyes darkened to black.
“i brought something for you,” his eyes shifted from your lips to your eyes, curious.
“it’s not even christmas yet,” he smiles, “and what’s that?” you leaned closer to him, your lips hovering over his ear.
“it’s a surprise,” you whispered seductively, grabbing his hand and placing it on your thigh. he doesn’t hesitate to rub the supple skin covered by fishnet, warm and smooth.
when you pull away just the slightest, peter crashes his lips to yours. the kiss was as passionate as your feelings for him, erupting your anticipation and nerves in small gasps. he shifts you over to his lap, so you’re straddling him. instantly, you buck your hips into his crotch, desperate for more than a heated kiss.
your heart is thrashing in your chest and there’s a familiar burn in the lower part of your stomach. your hands roam his brown hair, exploring his locks like it’s new territory. except it’s not. you’ve never felt like you’ve known someone so well without even knowing them that well. the chasing, the waiting, the wanting, the needing, the wondering—it was the strangest feeling, and you were addicted to it.
you pop your lips off of peter, puffy and pink. you both take a second to breathe before you start kissing down his neck. you’re not shy with your teeth, leaving marks on his tough skin that’s shielding layers of muscle.
when you get to his collarbone, you nearly whine because he still has his flannel and shirt on. you swear you’ve never been more horny or desperate in your life.
“relax, sweet girl,” peter reassures, petting your hair while you look up at him. “we have all night.”
just tonight? you thought. what about the other nights? and days?
after a soft sigh, you nod and begin unbuttoning his flannel. your hands are a bit shaky from all the anticipation and the rapid beat of your heart. of course peter notices.
“are you alright?” he questions softly, being the caring guy he is.
“yeah, just nervous, i guess,” you answer honestly because he makes it easy to. he’s comforting and he cares.
so why are you nervous?
but instead of asking you why, he says, “me too.”
after you undo the last button and gently remove his flannel, you delicately smile at him. it was so pretty, peter couldn’t help but smile too. you tug on the end of his superman t-shirt, and he yanks it off. and you don’t think you’ll ever get used to his immaculate figure. it was sculpted to perfection, as if he was given his body from some drug. or maybe even the gods.
his hand raises to caress your supple cheek, causing you to stare at his face before he’s kissing you again. it started off sweet and gentle, like how peter saw you. but it didn’t take long for it to be rougher and full of lust. peter could feel his jeans tightening underneath you, and he wasn’t stupid enough to confuse the scent of your arousal with perfume or something.
trying again, your lips go to trail down peter’s neck again. his breath is wavering our sighs of pleasure as you lick and nibble his skin.
“gonna tell me that surprise?” peter asks, hands crawling up to the back of your dress. he’s sure to be careful as he drapes the straps down, the top slowly sliding down as you make out with his chest. you push peter’s body down so he’s laying flat on the bed, not answering him. “not gonna answer?”
you weren’t. you didn’t have time for all the things you wanted to do with him. all the things you wanted him to do to you. maybe you were too far gone to think it would take more than a night to be fulfilled by peter. more than two. more than a week? maybe a month. you’d keep going until you’re sick and tired, but you don’t think you could ever get sick or tired of peter parker.
lost within the feeling of his body, you barely comprehend when he flips you dramatically over. his hard body hovers above yours, your dress barely hiding your peaked nipples.
“i ask you a question, baby,” he husks, breath fanning over your skin and traveling toward your ear. a shiver scatters up your spine and a spark of lust fires in your clit.
“you have to wait and see,” you answered breathlessly, a smirk rising on your face.
a dark color covers his eyes. peter doesn’t like not knowing something, so he’s desperate to figure out your little “surprise.”
with little to no effort, violet’s dress is tugged all the way down your body. he tosses it gracefully onto his bedroom floor, but doesn’t pay any mind to it as he gazes over your body. he hasn’t seen you since wednesday and he was craving you like crazy. he thought he was going to go insane. but as he stares down at your figure adorning white fishnets sexily, he finally knows what it’s like to go crazy.
“is this my surprise? because, fuck, you look like a prize.”
you giggle as his rough fingertips trail down your torso. your nipples ache from neglect and the chilly october air that somehow breezes through the room. your body arches up into his touch, needing him badly. maybe you should just tell him the surprise.
but wouldn’t it be so much better if he just found it himself?
“can i unwrap my present?” peter teases with a cheeky smile, nudging at the waistline of your fishnets. you know that the second you open your legs he’s going to see your wetness leaking from the fabric.
“yes, peter,” you can’t help but laugh.
“do you care if i rip them?”
“what?”
“can i rip them?”
“i don’t—” the quiet sound of stretching and ripping cuts you off. he tore your fishnets. well, violet’s fishnets. “peter!”
“too late. i’ve never been good at unwrapping gifts,” he quickly kisses your cheek in a sweet apology, “luckily, i’m pretty good at taking care of them.”
you roll your eyes at his cheesiness, but can’t help but smile like a little kid. as he makes his way down your body again, he widens your legs and sees his surprise. your heart throbs just like your aching cunt.
“ah, so that’s my surprise,” he grumbles. it’s hard for him to keep it together right now.
peter stares darkly at the small purple toy peeking out from your bare pussy. you had no panties on, which in peter’s eyes, seemed ironic. from the top of his eyes, he sees the tiny smirk creeping up onto your lips.
his hand crawls up your leg until it reaches the soaking folds of your throbbing cunt. he pets your slit delicately, like you’d break if he fully touched you. you might. even from that simple touch, you were squirming underneath him, silently begging for more.
“how long has this been keeping you full?” he questions, curious, “is this what you’ve been using while i was gone?”
“mhm,” you hum when his fingers find your puffy clit, throbbing with desire. you leaked all around the purple toy, wetness gushing from you.
“look at you. fucking soaked. what made you this wet? was it the toy?” peter circles your clit faster, making your breath falter. you try to keep your eyes strained on him, but the feeling is just too incredible to focus on anything else. “answer me.”
“n-not the toy,” you stutter with breathlessness. a wavering moan elicits from you.
“then why are you so wet?” he taunts, and the low level of his voice floods over your body just right. you clench needily around the toy right in front of him, causing him to growl.
“you! nothing makes me wet like you do,” you admit head falling back on the pillow as his rough pace gives in. he’s satisfied with your answer, so he goes to a full, fast rhythm.
you’re so dazed with your orgasmic chase that your body rumbles as it nears. to make matters more intense, peter testingly pushes the small button on the bottom of the toy. it springs to life, vibrating your entire insides electrifingly. a broken moan escapes your swollen lips, and you just pray it’s hidden behind the heavy beat of the party music.
your legs shake in his hands as his head lowers. you’re so close to your high and then he does even more? you swear you were going to explode.
his challenging mouth sucks harshly on your clit, devouring you like you were his last meal on earth. instead of the bed sheets, your hands find their way to his soft hair, tucking the roots with triumph.
you’re breathless and you’re close. so, so close. you can see your orgasm in front of you like a sunset and you’re riding straight into it on a horse.
“peter!” you cry when he nibbles on your clit, a smirk pressed against you. it was nice to release your moans without having to muffle them down. your core tenses like never before, overwhelmed by the extreme pleasure. “i’m coming—oh, fuck, please let me come!”
“go ahead, sweet girl,” he pops off of you and replaces his mouth with his thick fingers. “give it all to me.”
so you do. you release every tension within you that was holding you back. with eyes screwed closed, your back arches from the high. the wetness squeezes out of you while peter eases you through it. he switches off the vibrator and puts it somewhere besides you on the bed.
he lowers his head to clean up the mess with delight. when he comes back up, the grin on his face is toothy and contagious. you reflect it back, wondering how you got so lucky. how were you lucky enough for your intruder to be peter parker?
“you okay, angel?” peter asks, thumb caressing your heated cheek bone with concern. you’re melting into his touch, hoping to be a part of him forever. you wouldn’t mind.
“yeah, just… thinking.”
“good or bad?”
“i’ll tell you later,” you smile as you recall all the small thoughts you have of peter. peter rolls his eyes dramatically as your hands rub down his chest.
“but… i was wondering if i could be on top? just wanna try it. i need it,” you stare into his eyes and patiently wait for an answer. you’ve never been on top before, but with peter it seems like it would be really fun.
“i don’t know. do you want me to die?”
you laugh, forcing you to look away from his brown eyes. you push peter off the bed until he’s standing and ask him to take off his pants. when he’s completely naked, he goes to lean against his headboard, ready for you to sit on him. you crawl over to him as he puts on a condom from his bedside table.
“ready, baby?” he massages your upper arms.
“you’re being too nice, peter,” you note as you throw your legs over his hips. you didn’t actually know what you were doing, but confidence is key. if you just pretended like you knew, it would look like it, right?
“what? do you want me to be mean, baby? ‘cause i can be mean.”
“don’t think you’re really capable.”
“we’ll see then, doll,” peter says deeply as his hand grips your hip tightly.
as you slowly lower your body with peter’s guidance, you feel his tip enter you. it was a different feeling than being on the bottom. you had more control, but you had to do more work. you’re not sure if you cared to have so much free reign. you kind of preferred when peter took the wheel.
you rocked your hips forward, feeling his hard cock fully inside of you. it was stretching you completely out. you couldn’t get up if you tried. there was a pain mixed with pleasure that filled you up so good.
“c’mon, y/n. fuck yourself on my cock,” he growled in encouragement as you attempted to lift your hips up. you barely move because you’re squeezing around his cock so tight, like if you let go you’ll die. peter lightly moans as you squeeze him, wondering if he’ll die right here inside of you.
“i-i can’t,” you whine.
“you can’t? thought you needed it?” he taunts. peter can be mean if he really wanted to,
“it’s too hard.”
“you’re not even trying. good girls at least try. don’t you want to be a good girl?”
peter thrusts up into you once to make you moan, which works successfully. you spit out your broken moan with your hands clawing his biceps.
“barely moved and you’re already moaning. pathetic, really. you asked me to be on top and you can’t even take it.”
you clench around his prick at his degrading words. you didn’t think he could be mean, but you were wrong. his words were just the right amount of degrading that made you weak and so, so wet.
“look at that. my girl’s getting off on words like pathetic,” my girl. the two words nearly cause you to come right then and there. then peter thrusts up into you with purpose in each movement. as one hand grips your hip, the other floats up to your breast and fingers your nipple. he flicks and tweaks at it, causing you to arch into his touch. “what about slut? do like when i call you my slut?”
“fuck, peter,” you groan at his dirty talking. with each pump, you would feel every inch of him inside of you, filling you up completely. although you’re so full, you needed it harder and faster, and it was going to be difficult to get it from this angle when you’re not being much help.
before the begging words even slip from your mouth, peter is flipping you both over with ease. he doesn’t waste a second to slide back into you, causing your body to erupt in flames.
he begins with hard pumps, slowly gaining speed. but once he’s going fast, you could barely focus on your senses. you swear you could hear colors.
the sounds of your moans, shrieks, and screams echo throughout his bedroom. you don’t care if people could hear you. you hoped they could. you hoped they knew how good peter was destroying you, so they knew you were his.
peter hoped the same thing.
“so, so good, peter,” your eyes rolled to the back of your head in ecstasy.
“yeah? such a slut for my cock, huh?” he teases, voice low and lustful. “so cockdumb that you couldn’t even ride me.”
“i-i can do it,” a breathless moan escaped you, but you were too floaty to understand what you were really saying.
“oh, now you can do it? well, it’s too late, sweetheart.”
peter’s pace doesn’t falter. he makes sure to make every thrust count as he hits every angle. you cry out in bliss, chasing your orgasm like your life depends on it.
“i’m close,” the whine that elicits from you is groggy and strained from how sore it feels. you can’t even imagine how raw it would be from taking him down your throat…
for another time.
his rough hand trails down between you until he’s pressing his hand down on your stomach. with every shift of his cock he can feel himself moving through you. as he puts more pressure, you both collectively moan at the feeling.
“can you feel me? can you feel me deep inside of your little cunt? do you feel me right here?” peter drags your trembling hand to place it on your lower torso, right where he’s nonstop thrusting into you.
“yes, peter! fuck, you’re so big. i feel you in my tummy,” you clamp around his cock, your orgasm right around the corner. “please, please let me come. i’ve been good.”
“have you? you couldn’t even ride me even when i let you.”
“i’m sorry, peter–please. need to so bad,” your eyes are squeezed shut as you beg peter. his hand that was on top of yours drifts down to your clit. he stimulates it by rubbing in tight circles that have you seeing stars. every muscle is in your body is screaming and pleading for release while he overstimulates you more. “want to be good!”
“yeah? want to be a good girl?” a needy moan elicits from you. “then come for me. right now while you’re squeezing me.”
the air surrounding you turned wistful and cloudy. your body rumbled and erupted as you orgasmed, shaking with desire as it poured out of you. you thought the first time that you and peter fucked was the best sex you’ve ever had, but after tonight, you’ve never been more wrong. maybe it’s because you two are a little more comfortable with each other. maybe it’s because you told him to be a little mean. whatever it was, it was the best fucking sex you’ve ever had. because it was more than sex. it felt like more.
peter’s orgasm trails yours, making sure that you come first. his thrusts were slowier and sloppier as he pants out heavy breaths. before exiting you, his hand reaches up to caress your face.
“okay?” his voice was a bit raspy as he came down from his high. his arms were on either side of your head, and you felt safe and protected.
“more than,” you smiled dopily at peter, whose eyes were twinkling. reflecting a smile, peter begins to pull out of you. “do we have to?”
“have to what?” he stops his movements, half-way out of you. you hated the empty feeling that started to flood over you because you knew he’d leave soon. well, you would leave soon.
“leave. can’t we just stay in here all night?” you question. a part inside of you was scared for his rejection, that he was going to kick you out and then that was it. but the other half of you had the courage to ask because you knew it would all be fine.
“i would–”
“oh, there’s a but coming.”
“but i need to eat. and so do you,” he pulls out of you and rids out the condom within a few seconds. you don’t move from your flat position on the bed, feeling the cold waves of loneliness flooding over you already. peter had a tingle that you wanted more. you wanted to stay, but you were too nervous to ask. you were good at giving him big hints, though.
he loves the idea of you staying. laying with you and hearing your soft breaths as you sleep. cuddling close to be warm from the cold air. peter’s heart lurches at the wonderful thought.
peter reaches for his clothes and dresses. you bend over and slip on the dress, without the fishnets. your hair was probably a mess, but you didn’t care because the only person you cared about seeing tonight was peter.
once you’re dressed with shaky hands, peter stands in front of you and rests his hands on your shoulders. delicately, he caresses your neck as you practically pur into his warm touch. you felt your heart rate pick up, even though he was just inside of you.
“and then, if you’d like, we can come back up here,” he presses his chest against yours as his voice softens, “and we can lay in bed, watch a movie, and not worry about being caught because we don’t have rules like you do.”
although your heart was beating fast already, you’ve never felt more comfortable. he made you feel reassured, and you couldn’t ask for more. with a smile rising to your lips, peter’s heart skips a beat at the wistfulness cascading throughout his body. your lips were soft and kissable, your skin was glowing with an orgasmic shine, and your makeup was a bit smudged, but you still looked like peter’s perfect girl.
his girl.
“wait, before we eat, i have to get some stuff at the sorority.”
“okay,” he says, “put this on. it’s freezing and your wearing practically nothing.”
he throws a hoodie at you and you catch it with blinking eyes. it as a small gesture, but your heart was melting. you slip it over your head without any question. and then he’s dragging you out of the extremely loud and crowded house. no one says or questions anything, and you’ve never been more glad to be so invisible.
–
“what are you doing? come on!”
“what if they see me?”
“there’s no one home!” you whisper-shouted at peter as you walked through the door. there was a key under the flower pot that worked great when you forgot your key.
it’s kind of ironic that you are both sneaking into your sorority. it’s a full circle moment.
you both tiptoe through the clean, white house. peter nearly takes his shoes off because he’s scared he’ll leave dirt footprints in his trail. he really does not want to be seen in this house knowing what happened to flash the last time they snuck in. but it’s peter’s job to be stealthy, so he hopes he could keep up the good work.
you make it up the stairs and head straight for your room. peter remembered exactly which one was yours, now that he’s been in it two times somehow. once you’re both inside, he shuts the door behind him quietly like someone would hear him.
“why did we just tiptoe all the way up here? there’s no one even here!” you say in a normal level voice as a chuckle follows after. peter laughs with you as you search your drawers for some clothes.
“i feel it’s only right to bring the mit one, right?”
“definitely.”
“wait, did you leave the vibrator on your bed?”
“uh… yeah. sorry.”
“peter!” your skin grows warm with the idea that someone might stumble into his bedroom and find it just lying there. you cringe at yourself.
you pack a small overnight bag with your most needed essentials. peter sits patiently on your bed, practically swinging his feet as he analyzes your bedroom. it was simple with a few picture frames of family and friends. your room was basically plain white with a few pink and blue items scattered around the place. in all, it was you. he couldn’t think of a better sorority room to fit your vibe, your personality better than this room. it was naturally gorgeous, like you.
even though peter was looking around your room, he was still watching you pack. he observed when you folded a pair of night shorts with the mit t-shirt and even threw in an outfit for the next day just in case you two went out. but you were missing something.
“okay, let me grab my toothbrush,” you quickly left the room and in no-time were back. “let’s go. i’m hungry now.”
“but you’re forgetting something,” peter says. you blink, wondering what you might be forgetting.
“but i grabbed everything–” you watch as peter glides towards your dresser drawers. he opens the top left and immediately finds your colorful panties and underwear. your eyes widen in embarrassment, even though he’s seen you naked multiple times. something about him staring at your undergarments was just a little more… vulnerable?
peter snatches two different colors, a royal blue one and a vibrant red one, similar to the first one he saw you in. of course, he picked these colors purposely.
“which one? i’m thinking the blu–”
“what are you doing! that’s my underwear!” you tried to reach for them dangling in his hands, but he was way quicker than you. it’s like he knew before you even moved.
“well, i think at this point it’s kind of a tradition for me to take one, no? i couldn’t take them earlier because you weren’t wearing any!”
your neck and cheeks flush with embarrassment. yeah, you may have been confident when in the moment, but talking about it just made your face hot. peter always knew how to get you going. to get quickly out of this situation, you grumble, “blue.”
and with that, you were on your way back to the frat house. the party was still going strong and surprisingly, no one asked where either of you were. when you and peter walked through the door, people just acted like you’ve been there the whole time. but they were also drunk and high, so was it really that shocking?
within the first few minutes of you and peter being in the congested house, you both look at each other with a knowing look. there was no way you two could eat in this populous, mess of a place.
“diner?” peter shouts over the blaring music. he swore flash turned it up to full volume, even when peter told him specifically not to do that.
“exactly what i was thinking,” you reply loudly as you squeeze your bodies through the crowd. peter slides his hand into yours as you shift through everybody. a spark of electricity nearly shocks you.
when you approach his car, you throw your bag at the bottom of your feet before dropping into his passenger seat. you both inhale and exhale the refreshing night time air. the house smelt like marjuana and sweat, but his car was scented with pine and fresh leather.
as he started the car, you two didn’t say anything. and it was perfect. it was comfortable. it was safe. you turn your head to look at peter, whose eyes were fighting between the road and you. your heart skips a beat that’s getting familiar as you smile softly. gently, your hands intertwine as you ride on to the diner.
your journey with peter started… differently than most. but you liked the idea of having a tradition with peter. sure, it may not be traditional, but it was yours. you would both have to create a fundraiser for all these panties he will be stealing because they’re not cheap!
is it really stealing if you know he’s taking them? whatever.
when people ask how you guys met, it’s going to be a funny story. how many people break into someone’s house as a dare and then fall in love with them? not many.
wait… love?
–
THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU. i could not be more grateful for the love on panty stealer. i never thought any of my writing would get this much notice, so thank you (times three) for all the likes, comments, and reblogs.
note: i won’t be making anymore full parts, however, i will do blurbs/drabbles of these two if requested!
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a Monaco Grand Prix - t.holland
masterlist
pairing: Tom holland x mercedes intern!fem!reader
warnings: some flirting + possible minor errors
a/n: inspired by the Monaco gp today! combining my love for Tom and formula 1 into this! if you like formula 1, you can find my sports masterlist on @thatsdemko 🥰
“you can’t just be nice and give him a tour?” your boss, Toto Wolff, gives you a glare that’s almost killer. one that you know will bite you in the ass, if you don’t just take the opportunity to show the famous celebrity around the paddock.
you know it’s part of your job. if you want your placement to be permanent, you’ll have to do whatever the boss says, and that being showing a famous prick around the Monaco paddock.
you nod, “I’ll do it.” you swallow the nervous jitters, as you turn out of the Mercedes hospitality to the one and only Tom holland making his way through media, other formula 1 interns, and press.
he’s headed to you with his security guards. a bright pearly white smile on his face as climbs the steps, hand extended, “ah you must be y/n! I was told you’d show me around.” his British accent brings warmth to your ears as it visibly spreads to your cheeks taking his hand in yours.
you’ve completely forgot why you didn’t want to do this in the first place. after having met the Tom holland, you’d do anything your boss asks you to do.
“right this way, Mr. Holland, let me show you our new and improved cars for this weekends race.”
—
each spot you took him to came with a variety questions and expression, god he was cute, was all you could think about. he was attentive and listened to your tidbits and nerdy jokes, he could tell you really loved your job and took formula 1 as serious as it was.
“and this is the Red Bull garage, legally I’m not allowed in there or else I’ll be reported for spying. but go on in, I’m sure Christian Horner would love to see you.” you gesture for the actor to step inside the garage and join the couple of other famous people you could see from where you stood.
as badly as he wanted to step in and have the cameras pointed on him, he didn’t mind keeping a lower profile and decline the offer to do so, “if you can’t go in then I definitely shouldn’t.” he laughs pulling out his phone to show you his Lewis Hamilton lockscreen, “I’d be murdered in there.”
“that makes two of us.” you giggle, pulling out your phone to show him the picture of you and Lewis on your first day. he’s a bit jealous as a claims, but you’re sure he’s had more opportunities to meet him than you have. considering you rarely see the drivers— except for Mick Schumacher.
“ah I’m hoping to get a picture with him like that too!” he carefully taps his finger against your screen to get another look at the picture; two of you smiling from ear to ear in Bahrain.
“I don’t have the privileges to get you to meet him, but considering your fame status? I’m sure by the end of this weekend you’ll see him more times than me.” you gesture for him to follow and he keeps up as you pass the McLaren, where Oscar piastri and lando norris are doing final placements.
“what if I want to see you more by the end of this weekend?” he asks, the words slipping off his tongue before he can filter them out. his hand flies over his lips; security guard chuckling at his intrusive thoughts winning. flirty words were easy for Tom, but he didn’t expect to find himself using a line on you this early on the tour.
you can feel the red hue quickly spread to your cheeks, it’s more noticeable than the last time he got your attention that way. he moved into your field of vision turning to face you, rather than the cars, “I mean I could always use a tour guide around Monaco?” he shrugs, hand finding the nape of his neck as he nervously plays with the hairs there.
“ask me when I’m off the clock, then legally I can answer.”
—
you thought he would’ve forgotten by now. it was hours after you gave him his own private tour of the paddock, and somehow? he was still there.
most people— fans, media, press, and other members of formula 1— had vacated the paddock following an early rise tomorrow for the big race, but not Tom. he’d stuck out waiting around, taking pictures with the few fans left, and even getting his picture with the infamous Lewis Hamilton.
“I see you finally got your picture.” you say as you make your way down those same hospitality steps to close the gap of where he stood off to the side.
“yeah, but I didn’t get that guaranteed tour of Monaco yet?”
“will I get paid by the end of the tour?” you raise an eyebrow watching his words stumble out of his mouth, words not even forming sentences you tripped him hard, “I’m joking, Tom, but I get off of work tomorrow late, so your tour will have to wait.”
he nods eager, but still slow enough to not show much of his excitement, “I can wait until then. I’ll find you here tomorrow evening?”
“deal, and I don’t take checks as a form of payment.”
#tom holland#tom holland x oc#tom holland x you#tom holland x y/n#tom holland x fem#tom holland fic#tom holland fanfiction#tom holland fluff#tom holland imagine#tom holland imagines#mercedes amg f1#tom holland fiction#tom holland x reader#tom holland fics#tom holland one shot#tom holland blurb#tom holland drabble#f1 fic#formula 1 fic#tom holland fanfic#peter parker x y/n#peter parker x you
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Please, notice me | part. one
wordcount → 3.4K
summary → It has been eight months since The Blip. It also has been months since you live with Peter’s new obsession, increased feelings for a girl who isn’t you. You believed you would finally spend time with your friends during the Europe trip, this summer. It was without counting on Peter’s Plan. You try to enjoy those last days in New-York with your best friend.
disclaimer → This mini-series takes place during the events of FFH and NWH movies. The fic will contain many of those movie scenes, including some bonus scenes.
the Spider-Man divider is from @silkholland
pairing
↳ peter parker x female!bestfriend!reader
warning(s) → angst, jealousy.
taglist: @justapurrcat @delightfulmuffinclamauthor
if you want to be added in my taglist, please let me know just here
“I have a plan” Your best friend announced, as he sat spontaneously in his chair, somewhat agitated.
He didn’t wait a second longer to state his so-called plan, as if it seemed the best idea in the world.
But Peter wasn't Peter without his hard-contained hyperactivity, which didn't stop you from smiling to yourself. All of Peter's clumsy features made him incredibly endearing.
Ned listened intently to your friend's ramblings as you absentmindedly continued your drawing in your sketchbook. In fact, Peter always had a plan. Well, he almost always had one, except in the important moments when he let his instincts or his feelings take over.
But lately, your sweet best friend had a multitude of plans, all aimed at one and the same goal. And that's why, despite all the consideration you had for the boy with the curly brown hair, you didn't give importance to his new schemes.
You still caught Ned telling your best friend not to do any of this, with a lot of irony, which made you split a small chuckle. You loved your friend’s candor. Ned always had the gift to make you laugh, or just smile, even when it was serious. He tried to convince your friend with arguments about the single life, which you didn’t really pay attention to. To tell the truth, it often happened that you locked yourself in your world while your two best friends rambled about various subjects. Today was not an exception.
Ned had never understood Peter’s sudden fondness for MJ, so do you. It was like your best friend, the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man from Queens, had woken up one morning with an obsession… Some wake up from a coma by speaking a language they never spoke… Others, like Peter, discover relatively sudden feelings for people they had never considered before. He always talked about her as if she were the most impressive person on the planet, He always looked at her as if she could hang the moon and the stars, He drank her words as if she could put the universe in a bottle. And it had been going on for months, without you knowing why his feelings had grown overnight. You felt like one day he was madly in love with Liz, the next day he was fighting his father, and the next day MJ had become all of Peter’s conversation subjects. And since then, you felt like your head was going to explode.
Your fingers continued to scribble while your mind continued to wander in your own thoughts. Chance, or the irony of fate, call it what you want, wanting the next song on your playlist to reflect exactly the feelings that lay dormant in you.. You were that kind of person who created incredible scenarios in your head when you were listening to music. Thus, a cover of “Mr. Sandman” could send your mind into a torrential rain, where your body was lying in a pool of blood while your soulmate, the biggest charismatic mobster in London, begged you to stay with him.
"Y/N ?" Peter asked
You looked up, the cloud of thoughts dissipating from your eyes to meet your best friend's chocolate gaze.
There was something with his eyes, something that always attracted you. A comforting warmth, a spark of innocence, an open window to the extraordinary person that was Peter Parker. But at that moment, his expression was one of expectation and as you turned your head towards Ned, you only met the same expression. A question on hold, awaiting your response, your opinion.
“No, yeah…Peter’s right. It’s a great plan”.
Ned shook his head in resignation while your other best friend gave you that idiot puppy smile. You always followed Peter's path, the Filipino knew it. And that sometimes caused tensions in the past. It had always been Ned, you and Peter but your friend was not fooled and knew that your feelings for the one who embodied Spider-Man during his free time, would always take over your decision. It was unintentional.
Yet, You didn't want Ned to feel left out again. You were therefore in an awkward position, not knowing the details of the conversation. But admitting you weren't listening might hurt Peter.
"But Ned isn't wrong either" you added, hoping to satisfy everyone.
Peter grimaced, a look of incomprehension on his face. At that moment, you wished you had listened to Peter's plan, but your heart wasn't in it.
"Okay, sure…" Peter said "But I really like MJ, man"
You have chosen this moment to return to your notebook until Peter's restless behavior distracts you from your drawing again.
"She's coming up. Just DON'T say anything." Peter panicked a bit.
MJ stood in front of you. You politely greeted her with a smile as the two boys rambled on. Ned threw the information that Peter had a plan then tried to catch up. You raised your eyebrows at the "teaspoon collection" excuse, even more so when Peter simply blamed it on Ned. What did you do to deserve friends like that?
"Oh. Okay. Well, that was a real rollercoaster." MJ said and again, you try to suppress your chuckle.
The brunette girl turned to you, patiently waiting, standing a bit awkwardly as she always did and you pinched your lips and shrugged. She was waiting for your own plans for this trip.
"I guess, I’m going to keep an eye on these idiots and take a little interest in art in Venice… but above all, keep an eye on these morons."
"It sounds like a great responsibility," she said in her legendary laid-back manner.
"It is."
Peter and Ned gave you their offended but quite adorable looks. It would be a lie to say that you weren't the quiet strength of the group. MJ then advised you to use VPNs to protect yourself from the government and you nodded politely again, this time uninterested in why the young woman was interested in conspiracy theories. Ned merely added a remark about the fact that all this had gone well, implying that MJ had not discovered Peter’s plan, and you laughed as your friend gave the Filipino a somewhat impressed and annoyed look, stalling his tongue against his cheek to suppress a sarcastic remark of which he had the secret.
You liked that side of Peter. You found it rather amusing. That little something, those little facial expressions that hinted that Peter could be pungent. That kind of look he just gave at Ned that told you he was holding back some sarcasm…a little verbal rant that would be extremely well thought out and not necessarily harmful. A kind of "no kidding?" non-verbal. And that made Parker sexy.
Sexy wasn't the first word one would associate with Peter Parker. Some would say: loser, weird, nerd or even would ask ; "who?". Usually, You would have said cute….but at that moment, his somewhat sarcastic attitude made your stomach turn deliciously. Peter's gaze softened as it rested on you and you felt your cheeks heat up.
"So, what are you going to do on this science trip?" he asked, as if you hadn’t already answered the question a few minutes earlier, when MJ asked you to.
"Anything but science. I really go there for the art. I mean Italy and France are two countries known for their talented artists, right?"
Your gaze shifted to Ned, who shrugged, unaware of your words. Ned and Peter weren't really cheerful or interested with the Renaissance paintings, they were more like: Star Wars LEGO Death Star. What you also appreciate, you would not lie, but you appreciate the poetry in old paintings and sculptures. Some would call you pathetic, others would simply call you romantic.
The bell rang and you simply put your sketchbook in your backpack. You followed Ned and Peter down the halls, this time a little more focused on the conversation. Several students rushed to clean their lockers before the end of the year, while others seemed eager to throw away their classes as if they would no longer need them. You walked through the doors to a new hallway where you saw Flash throwing food from his locker into a trash can. You could not suppress a grimace of disgust.
"So what are you going to do on your last days in New York?” Ned asked Peter while you three walked through the hall.
“Ooh, I have some errands to run.” started to answer Peter
You continued on your way when you felt the projectile thrown by Flash fall on your shoulder bag. You looked at the man with an angry look, not doubting that this piece of stale pizza was undoubtedly aimed at Peter. But the widespread indifference of your best friends about it just kept you going your way, so you could focus on the conversation again.
“I have to get a mini toothpaste, pick up my passport and then take down the Manfredi crime family.”
“Oh” Ned said, impressed about the last part of Peter’s to-do list.
“Can I come? I need to do that too!” you quickly said, only to face two surprised looks from your friends. “ I mean, except the take down Manfredi crime family thing”
There was hope in your eyes. You wanted to spend some time with Peter because a strange feeling told you that you wouldn't during this trip to Europe. The exchange of glances between your two friends indicated a silent conversation and Peter seemed to hesitate. He looked at you with his sheepish expression, his mouth forming an O, waiting to speak his words.
"Uh yeah.. yeah, I mean, if you have to do it…you can do it with me," he said, moving his head and shoulders frantically in a mismatch between his gestures and his words. You could sense the anxiety and hesitation in his behavior.
"Are you sure? I can do it alone if you don't want me…it's just…"
You didn’t want to be a burden on Peter, You initially thought his reluctance was due to his Spider-Man business. Although you’ve been his friend for as long as you can remember, you were only made aware of his dual identity after Ned. The truth is, you discovered his secret recently at the prom. As you were leaving the bathroom to join your group of friends, you had met Peter who would run quickly towards the exit, without having seen you. You saw him lifting a bunch of lockers like he was wearing a light weight. Then Ned disappeared from the evening. The next day, you confronted them and were told: Peter Parker was Spider-Man.
You then thought that his purchases were then about his plan to seduce MJ. So, if he had things he wanted to do in your absence, that was perfectly legitimate. You asked only from a practical point of view. You could see the various feelings passed through the eyes of your best friend: the misunderstanding of your withdrawal, the fear of having possibly hurt you, the panic of your weak disappointment. Peter Parker was a quick emotional kettle.
"No. No, you can come with me. Come with me, please Y/N." Peter asked more peacefully, almost begging you to come this time.
You smiled politely, mixed emotions, and then nodded your head in acquiescence. You weren’t really sure that Peter wanted you to be there. You looked at Ned who shrugged and said he had to be with his Lola for the rest of the week.
You first went to Delmar to buy the necessary supplies: mini toothpaste, and small bottles to pour hygiene products into (shower gel, shampoo, make-up remover), without forgetting about electric plug adaptors. The best grocer in Queens kept cheering you up. He always did. His eagerness and interest in the lives of his clients were always remarkable and you loved the interactions he had with you or with Peter. You were amused to see Mr Delmar’s enthusiasm for the call-up of Europe, and how Peter had destroyed all the hopes of your favorite grocer by evoking science. Once again, you could only understand his reaction, the saw was not the main reason that convinced you to make this trip.
You quietly laughed at Peter trying to ask in Spanish for a headphone double adapter, - knowing that Spain was not a stopover on your trip to Europe, and that Italian, despite what you might think, did not look like Spanish at all - . You pinched your lips so as not to laugh more when the grocer answered him nonchalantly with a simple "what" in Spanish. However, you were not able to suppress a funny smile when Peter asked for the dual headphone adapter, this time in English. Mr. Delmar corrected him with a smile, as you strolled through the nearby candy stand, cuddling Murph who was laying on a display. Peter’s interaction with the grocer made your cheeks warm. Peter had this facility to joke with such confidence, blatantly denying that his Spanish was wobbly and that his request was almost accurate in comparison to the words used by Mr Delmar.
“You finally asked Y/N’s out. You’re a great guy, Peter Parker” Mr Delmar said with a “dad proud” look on his face.
“Oh, no…no Mr. Delmar it’s not what you.. ” started Peter, trying to find his words.
Peter's gaze turned to you then to the grocer, several times in a row. His mouth opened and closed to find the words. He seemed to run out of words, overwhelmed, like a stray puppy.
Why did everyone keep believing that you and him could be a thing? May, now Mister Delmar, even Karen, the AI of his suit seemed to believe that Y/N was more than a friend to him.
Could you think so too? Could you think that you both could be " a thing" ? Peter’s heart went crazy, not sure to be excited about it or stressed out, or terrified. You were his friend, right? He really liked MJ, by the way. But the idea of you both dating as…lovers? It couldn't be that bad… Peter shook his head to clarify his mind, trying in vain to find an answer to the grocer.
“We…well, She’s…” the brown haired boy continued.
How could this adorable stuttering boy be the brash and brave Spider-Man? You could clearly see two aspects of his personality… The mask must have helped, you thought.
You had to save Peter from this embarrassing situation. You must have. That's what friends do, right? And to be fair, it was awkward for you too. You wished it were true. You hoped that Peter feels the same way as you do. But you clearly could see how the thought of it disturbed your adorable dork friend. It was hurting you to hear your best friend arguing with his thoughts and words about it, over and over and over…and over. You approached the counter placing three small packets of gummy bears on it.
“We aren't together, Mr. Delmar… There’s for another girl.” you say with a small shy smile, lips pressed together, your cheeks burned with embarrassment.
Peter looked at you, he gave you the same smile you gave him a few seconds ago. You could feel the look of pity the grocer was giving you. This man knew everything, he was, as you liked to call him, the soul of Queens. Nothing escaped him, not a single gossip, not a single crisp story escaped his ears. He had always listened, voluntarily or unintentionally. He was the confidant of an entire neighborhood. The best sandwiches in Queens but also the best advice. Peter’s eyebrows frowned at the sight of the gelatin gummy bears, not sure of the reason for this compulsive purchase, on his check.
“Hey, what’s that for?” He practically shouted, somewhat offended by your audacity
You shrugged nonchalantly, almost too confident, a mischievous little smile on the corner of your mouth.
“You owe me one. I bought you some churros the other day”
“Fine,” Peter said, defeated.
You wrinkled your nose smiling victoriously and, in your spontaneity, you thanked him while laying a kiss on his cheek, as his became redder than your favorite candy. He might be in love with another girl but Peter Parker, remained Peter Parker. An adorable boy very clumsy with girls.
It was a bad idea. It was even a very bad idea to follow Peter everywhere he needed to go before packing his suitcase for your student trip in Europe.
You were now in a pawn shop and your best friend was trying to resell figurines to get money to offer a special jewel for MJ - unsurprisingly -. Once again, you took a step back, letting Peter do his stuff as you had nothing to sell to this guy who seemed a little unpleasant to you.
“You’re sure about this ?” the salesman asked him.
“Yeah. I wanna buy a girl I like something really nice”
Jealousy, Jealousy. You felt your blood boil and turn into liquid acid, and if curses had been real - after all, you lived in a world where your seventeen-year-old best friend had fought an alien in space - your skin would’ve turned a bright shade of green. Not the elegant, poetic emerald green, no. A straight-up radioactive green one that was the perfect metaphor for how "corrosive" was the feeling who grew in your stomach.
Especially since one of these figurines were gifts that you had given to Peter. So, seeing him like that, selling his goods to impress a girl, that put you out of your mind. You were hurt. You felt your worth was less than MJ’s. It wasn’t really about the figurine, you were aware that we were all growing up at some point in our lives and that it was normal for us to separate from material goods over time. You couldn’t understand his logic. Peter was in love, certainly…. But to the point of abandoning objects related to his passions, for a girl? It was improbable. It was totally disproportionate.
‘Hm. Well, I hope she’s worth it. Is it her?’
The man pointed to you, as you walked down the aisles again in search of a trinket. There were so many things at such different prices. You were pretty sure you’d find some treasures in the stalls of that second-hand store. Peter looked at you and his ears turned red.
“Oh. No. No, she’s my best friend Y/N. She’s nice, but she’s not… That’s not her” He tried to whisper so you wouldn’t hear him…as if you possessed his super-hearing.
“Whatever.”
“Are you done Peter? The passport office will close soon” you asked, a bit anxious to be late at the passport office.
Peter quickly looked at you, his chocolate surprised doe eyes. He blinked, tightened his grip on the strap of his backpack, eager to sell his figurines while hoping not to be scammed by the seller.
“Yeah…yeah”
“So, all of them, buddy?”
“Actually, can I keep the Lobot” Peter asked, like a sad child, moving almost unbalanced from foot to foot, hesitant.
He reached out to his figurine and the seller gave it back. Peter’s eyes landed directly on the little plastic toy, as if relieved to have picked up the Lobot, an adorable smile on his face.
“Thanks. Yeah, I'll keep that one.”
You rolled your eyes again, but this time, you were softened by the attitude of your best friend. Even though he was love-struck - and it always hurt you to realize that it wasn’t for you - there was still the Peter Parker you had always known. Same old nerd Peter Parker : nerd but cute.
Finally, you both went to the passport office. The line up was long and you felt Peter become increasingly stressed during the day. As your best friend seemed impatient, you looked up at him and saw him tapping on his phone. You dropped a little surprise cry when a little animal spider came out of her backpack.
"It’s all right, miss," the man in front of you asked you, looking worried.
"Yes, yes… I… thought I saw a bee flying near me. It was a simple fly" you covered up your discomfort by coughing.
The stranger frowned and you felt the judgment, you offered him a tight smile before the man turned to focus on the waiting wire. A second later, the metal railing flew to a sold-out window and the red light vigil pointing to the closed station now indicated that it was open. You pinched the fun lips while watching Peter try to be discreet, turning on himself to reach the counter to ask for his passport. You followed it to take advantage of it as well.
The trip to Europe could finally begin.
#tom holland#tom holland x reader#tom holland fics#peter parker x reader#peter parker#peter parker fics#far from home
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between the lines | frat!tom
finals week is here and you’re an emotional wreck, to say the least. not only is your schedule jam-packed, but there are things going on in your life as well. you need to cram, you need to meet due dates and frankly, you could use a drink to get through it all. the night you go to a frat party, you see a cute and familiar face that you have to see every time you go to the small bookstore and he’s behind the cash register.
PAIRING : frat!tom & college!fem!reader
GENRE : college, book shop, love at first sight, dramatic love confessions, wedding date, & a long (too long tbh) slow burn
WARNINGS : tom being sarcastic but cute, lots of fluff + corny dialogue, toxic parents and divorce, a light/tasteful make-out, cursing, drinking, trust issues, both reader and tom being bibliophiles (annotations & recommendations blah blah), etc.
WORD COUNT : 13.9k
A/N : mostly, inspired by an another great idea @venomsilk gave me <3 🧸🌤 🍰 dedicated to her. this is for her valentine’s celebration (a few months late, oops. but school / mental health checks happened so respectable hiatus on this fic) and i was so happy and excited to write it tbh ! i've been more into the romance ya novels lately so i really wanted to give this fic a lot of love and filled it with inspiration from books i've read. pls rec me some bc this summer i want beach reads. anyways adore and appreciate my venomsilk besthie so much. bear with me in this fic, but hope everyone enjoys ! also this header is originally from here! i just added the shredded border
𑁍 masterlist 𑁍
Books. They were a common comfort you turned toward in times of stress, sadness or simply something to make the time go by on the bus ride to campus.
The small bookstore, that you often went to on the weekends, was unique. Most books were donated or found, then there was a small selection of brand new editions on the circular table when you entered the shop.
From the tall shelves filled with fictional adventures to the big, voluptuous, and green plants decorated around the front window, everything about this place was perfect. But, the dark, curly-haired cashier with a soft smile was a bonus to your shopping experience.
Every time you approached the counter, heat would suddenly radiate from your face and your heart fluttered when the boy rose his head to meet your eyes. Sometimes, you caught him reading a classic novel, other times, he was taking his time to finish homework when the store didn’t have but one or two people browsing.
His name is Tom, once overhearing one of his co-workers call him Tommy. You didn’t know anything about him, but it fit his charming yet approachable appearance. He wore a bunch of flannels with the sleeves rolled up and a solid color tee to match underneath, the occasional baseball tee or henley if the temperature in the store was too warm.
You didn’t mean to giggle the time you walked up to him and his cheeks were bright pink from how hot it was inside compared to the coming winter chill changing the fall weather.
Once or twice, you wondered if he remembered you. It sounded egotistical, questioning your importance to some stranger, but you couldn’t help it. He gave you recommendations or comments on the books you purchased, persuasive enough to burn a bigger hole in your pocket for decent literature.
The way he smiled and giggled when you had small talk, all from asking each other how your days had been. If it was a selling tactic he used; it was working.
Some days, romanticizing simple interactions like this made life less lonely and stressful. Tom was simply a crush; just another cute guy you could think about when you think about your future and the little fantasies in between your daydreams. It was nice for a bit and then you snapped back into reality, concentrating on your studies and looking forward to getting a degree.
*✭˚·ﾟ✧*·ﾟ*✭˚·ﾟ✧*·ﾟ*
Tom took advantage of the lazy afternoon shift between his classes.
There were little to no customers, free time to study and complete silence unless he turned on the music over the speakers throughout the store. While the minimum wage didn’t seem worth it, Tom much more preferred working at his Aunt and Uncle’s bookstore than to getting ripped off from writing English essays for his “so-called” fraternity brothers.
As he sat at his post behind the register, comfortably wearing his black Carhartt jacket, with his head lowered so his brown curls hung down. He unknowingly pouted as he made bright-red corrections on his rough draft for one of his final papers. Even though Tom had three to four other final papers of his own to do, he was doing essays for other people.
His final paper for his Advanced English Romanticism class was way more important and frankly, all he wanted to do was pass with high grades, but earning money for next semester’s tuition by easily bullshitting Shakespeare’s literature theories or creating basic fictional, short stories for people who were barely sober 12 hours out of the day made his eyes wander to the rough drafts in his worn backpack.
The ink imprinted his, sloppy but small, handwriting on the side of his hand, and the end of the pen had a few bites when he was re-thinking his sentences and paraphrasing.
Suddenly, the bell above the entrance door rang, not phasing Tom to look up since people came in and out, but he glanced up when he noticed the familiar color of the jacket you wore. He had seen you a few times, wearing that same navy blue jacket with a red and black stripe going down the sleeves.
A gloss filmed over his bright-brown eyes but looked away once you walked toward the back, admiring the books placed perfectly around the best-sellers table at the center of the store. You were the same, pretty girl who wandered around the stop for an hour, maybe two, seeking a book and nothing else.
Each one that came to Tom’s counter was a different genre from a worn-out classic or a fairly used historical fiction– it intrigued him so, he’d list a few recommendations. After a bit of, what he considered, flirting, you left with a big smile until two or three days passed and there you were again, searching and reading in between the numerous aisles.
“Think fast!”
Tom already flinched, but a soccer ball thumped against the side of his head and he immediately pressed his palm on his temple.
“Jesus…” Tom hissed under his breath, his eyes giving a dirty look toward his friend, “A ‘hello’ would have sufficed.”
“What? You’re not happy to see me?” Harrison grinned, holding the ball under his arm.
Tom quickly retorted, “Why are you bothering me at work?”
Harrison tilted his head.
“Because I cherish every second we spend together…” He smiled before rolling his eyes, “What do you think? We have a meeting at the house in twenty minutes. C’mon, no one is even here, it’s your family’s store and you can leave when your manager is on his phone in the back office–”
Tom opened his mouth, but no words came out. His eyes shifted to you, past Harrison’s figure, watching as you flipped through another book on the same shelf; a hardcover version of The Picture of Dorian Gray.
Basic, but not a bad read. Tom thought.
“Who’s that?” Harrison asked, “She’s pretty.” He glanced over his shoulder, but you had no idea that the two boys were glaring as you concentrated on the text.
“No one.” Tom said in an annoyed tone, messily pushing his books and paper into his worn-out backpack.
The rosy pink tint of the apples of Tom’s cheeks made Harrison slowly smile, “Oh, Tommy. You’re squirming. Is she an ex? Hookup? Maybe TA?”
Tom sighed, “If we leave now, I’ll still help you with your sports management paper tonight.”
Harrison nodded, “Geez, she must be someone if you make that threat.”
You couldn’t help but lift your head at their commotion, watching Tom lead the way. Harrison trailing behind with his duffle strap on his shoulder and spinning the soccer ball in his hands, but your glances connected as they passed. Being the brother he is, Harrison announces, “He has a thing for you! Big ole crush! Do you have his number-”
Tom pushed on Harrison’s back hard, forceful enough to get him through the door. He wanted to avoid you noticing the bright tint red painted on the apples of his cheeks from the embarrassment he couldn’t escape.
Your heart was in your throat, a warmness spreading throughout your body from the attention. Half-smiling, you looked back down at the book in your shaking hands. While it wasn’t your first choice, this happening made you want to buy it to remember this moment.
*✭˚·ﾟ✧*·ﾟ*✭˚·ﾟ✧*·ﾟ*
The feeling of falling shocked your nerves, jerking your head up to make sure you were still in your seat. You hadn’t noticed you fell into a catatonic state, blankly staring at your laptop with little to no brain function. The brightness of the small screen gleamed against your face, making you blink your eyes a few more times before hearing the multiple cracks break in your back.
This was being a university student. More specifically, an English major.
As much as you loved a hardcover book, money thought differently. Instead of flipping through thick pages with a smell that comforted you, those same texts flashed on whatever device you could afford it on.
The biggest misconception of being an English major is that you like to read everything and anything. Completely wrong. You liked to read the books that were like a warm hug after a rainy, cold day or made you weep until mascara burned the corners of your eyes.
The details you paid attention to within the novels you kept close are the reason you loved to read. But, classics and sonnets that you were forced to analyze to write papers about what they mean bored you mindlessly, wondering why picking English was even an option when it’s just reading a language you know.
You turned to your tall bookshelf, perfectly placed in the corner of the room, and books of various sizes overflowed it like a garden. Some rest on the top of it after you ran out of room on your shelves.
Each had their own story as to how they were placed on the old wooden ledges; buying them brand new from bookstores, finding worn-out classics from the thrift store or they were collecting dust in your parent’s attic. But, lately most had come from the Joel & Anne’s bookstore–you blamed Tom.
Just as you wanted to pick up The Picture of Dorian Gray, a notification popped up in the corner of your laptop’s screen. It was a brief email from your professor, granting an extension to the midterm paper due for those who requested it and you couldn’t have been more revealed.
Thank God, you thought.
The pace of your heart slowed down, the cracking of your spine as you straighten your back at your desk.
Falling on top of the fluffy comforter of your bed, your body’s muscles relaxed. The tension disappeared from your chest as your heavy eyes fluttered close. In and out of sleep, the buzz of your phone caused your head to quickly rise. Half-awake, you leaned up to grab it then plummet back into the soft sheets.
“Since there’s an extension for your paper, does that mean I’ll see you at the Delta Epsilon ABC party tomorrow?” Your best friend, Lillian, texted.
“ABC?” You typed with a furrow brow.
“Anything But Clothes.” She replied with a tongue emoji.
Reluctant, you wanted to say “no” and take the extended due date seriously, but from how stressed out the paper was making you, a party didn’t sound like a bad idea.
You sealed your lips while typing, but once you sent “What should I wear?”
After Lillian pitched a few last-minute ideas, you exited from your text messages then placed your phone on the bedside table. Rubbing your dry eyes, you get back up to turn off your lamp and other lights.
As you stroll to the desk, you trace your finger over the trackpad of the laptop to exit from the email. Surprisingly, you forgot about the already-opened browser of the book you’ve been hunting down for your paper. You were so exhausted, you spaced out in those few minutes to probably forget about it.
Shakespearean plays were the subject of your paper, researching for hours on end about this ancient man’s entire collection and existence. His missing years, his creation of words we still use today, anything that pinpointed a significance in the English language was stored somewhere in the paper your fingers cramped to write for the past week.
*✭˚·ﾟ✧*·ﾟ*✭˚·ﾟ✧*·ﾟ*
Tom downed the last Red Bull from his mini fridge, compressing the aluminum can in his hand then throwing it in trash. There it sat with the other empty cans and overflow of crumbled drafts.
He couldn’t remember the last time he blinked today yet his fingers were typing any of the words coming up in his head. The sixty bucks he was being paid for it was his only motivation to finish the last lines about the rise of the Roman Empire.
Shockingly, it wasn’t as difficult as told to him– but usually, it’s the people who don’t pay attention in their classes that find it hard and in their way. At least if he did it, there were rewards other than a high grade.
As Tom pressed tab to indent, he thought of how you smiled at him. He hoped it was him and not Harrison being cocky from what he said. He pondered what would happen if he stayed, walking back to you and saying that his attraction was true. But, Tom was more confident in his mind and he couldn’t actually imagine seeing you after how embarrassed he felt from Harrison’s announcement.
“Hey!” Harrison said as he knocked on Tom’s open door, expecting nothing but what he saw– Tom’s ass glued to his desk chair and the bright, white screen of his laptop staring back at him.
Tom turned his head, rolling his eyes at the blonde, blue-eyed devil, “Come here to make any of my other of my secrets known to the public?” He continued to jot down any last corrections on the paper he’d been working on for hours.
Harrison chuckled, jumping onto Tom’s bed, “It’s not like you were going to say anything to her if I didn’t, now she knows. ‘You’re welcome’ would be the correct answer, Mr. English smartass.”
“See, you’re saying ‘you’re welcome’ when I didn’t ask for your help in the first place. She’s just a girl that comes to the store a lot and I just…” Tom shrugged, tossing his pen down, “I happen to notice her.”
“Happen to notice?” Harrison scoffed. “Dude, you were staring at her so hard at her that I thought your eyes were going to pop out. Blink once in a while so if this girl does notice, she doesn’t think you’re creepy.”
Tom rolled his eyes, “She’s not some girl, her name is Y/N.”
Fuck. Tom thought, now realizing how much he corrected Harrison out of habit.
Harrison instantly smirked, “So, you know her name too? What else are you hiding so I can brief her in on it… but more subtle this time.”
“H, why are you in my room at one in the morning?” Tom asked with furrowed his brows.
“You’re going to the ABC party, right? You’ll be there, participating for once, and having fun. Maybe getting high or laid will loosen you up. ”
“I can’t, I have these papers to finish for the guys who will be partying downstairs all night and if I’m lucky, I can get paid double if I ask them for their fee while they’re drunk.” Tom smirked.
“C’mon. One party! It’s a few hours out of the whole semester… Before you have to go back home for the holidays and do nothing but watch Christmas movies and read books for pleasure.”
Tom replied with silence.
“Maybe you could invite Y/N. It could be a nice romantic gesture that your books talk about, right?”
“So, invite her to a party where everyone is wearing anything but clothes and shit-faced within the first hour.” Tom took a pregnant pause, “Yeah, I’ll pass on that.”
Harrison knew not to pry anymore, not planning to give Tom shit for wanting to do well in school. Unlike most of the trust-fund raised kids, Tom paid his dues from paycheck to paycheck. Maintaining high grades wasn’t only for his pride, but his academic scholarship that discounted his tuition.
He admired Tom for his natural work ethic despite it interfered with his social life. Luckily the other brothers saw Tom as an asset, but it was for their own selfish reasons. Harrison was a month younger than Tom, but still felt protective of him as if he were an older brother.
“Okay, well. I have a ‘Beware of Dog’ sign if you want to use it as shorts tonight.” Harrison winked before leaving to his room.
Tom chuckled, but his smile slowly turned into a frown. The desperate need to earn cash for his two semesters’ tuition consumed him the past four months, realizing that this term was practically done and he had done nothing else but work.
*✭˚·ﾟ✧*·ﾟ*✭˚·ﾟ✧*·ﾟ*
You could say that having caution tape wrapped around your body was ironically hazardous. The plastic was constricting, too afraid to bend over or you may fall and never get back up. While it was cute in thought, you looked in the mirror from head to toe and knew this could end in disaster.
With too many intrusive thoughts, you were about to change back into your grey sweatpants and grab an oversized shirt from the dryer. But, just as you took a last glance at your reflection, Lillian came right through the front door and sported a dress made out of bright green and white condom wrappers fastened together with tape and safety pins.
It was totally Lillian.
You furrowed your eyebrow, “Did you walk all the way here wearing that?”
But she ignored your comment from the stun of seeing you actually wearing a costume.
Lillian gasped, “You look hot! That caution tape was a good call.”
“I feel like this tape is going to fall off at any second.” You groaned, grabbing your college t-shirt from the basket on top of the dryer, but Lillian held your wrist.
“What are you doing?” She retorted.
You sighed, “Changing into something that lets me breathe and walk.”
“Oh, don’t be a party pooper. It’s only a few hours.” She said as she walked to the mirror, fixing her strawberry-blonde waves. She pushed them from the front of her body then behind her shoulders, wondering if the prominence of her collarbones made a difference.
“A few hours of guys asking me what’s underneath this caution tape.” You mumbled under my breath, and she moved you in front of the mirror.
“Y/N, I made a promise to you at the beginning of the semester to make sure you have an amazing last year of college… and I always keep my promises.” She said, her head resting on your shoulder as the two of you glanced at your absurd outfits in the mirror, “And you look too good to not go out...”
You chuckled, “Are you pouting?”
“Depends, does it guilt trip you want to go to the party more?” Lillian jeered, giving you a light squeeze around your waist.
You scrunch your nose, “Only a little.”
The two of you pre-gamed with a fruity, alcoholic seltzer, which barely gave any buzz, then ventured downstairs to the Uber waiting in front of your apartment building.
As Lillian snapped photos of herself from the lighting of the warm streetlights passing by, you noticed Joel & Ann’s bookstore in the darkness. It made you think of what Tom might have been doing tonight, wondering what his life was like outside the store.
You blushed thinking back at the fond moment of his friend shouting he liked you, keeping your head up for most of the day. As harmless as it was, it lingered in your mind and turned into scenarios of how you would enlighten that comment.
Would you make the first move? or has he already and you didn’t notice? Overthinking didn’t help, but you needed to come up with something good to respond to it whenever you’d see him again.
Once you arrive on Fraternity Row, the Delta Epsilon house was anything but quiet. Everyone was following the rules of the party, wearing anything but clothes in different and creative ways.
A brunette passing by wore a makeshift dress, the sparkling Christmas wrap tailored with tape to fit around her slim body. Another guy wore paper-mache shorts made from Superman comic book pages— even a couple of girls sporting the same outfit idea as Lillian which didn’t make her happy.
You hold back a laugh, “Well, at least your wrappers are green. Hers are purple… and Trojan.”
“Ugh, now I’m gonna blend in.” She pouted her glossed lips, “C’mon, let’s go see where the drinks are.”
The music played loud enough that you could feel the bass vibrating your teeth. Lillian hooked your arm around hers as she pulled you toward the bar set up in the corner of the dim lit room.
Everyone managed to commit to the theme of tonight, impressed by the sustainability people reached like wearing a dress made of streamers with your university’s colors or pants made out of cardboard beer boxes. The surprises and creativity seemed limitless tonight, but there was no one who caught your attention.
“Are you looking for someone?” Lillian asked as she poured brown liquor into her plastic cup, spilling a bit on the counter when she shifted the pour into your cup on the counter.
“Kind of.” You mumbled, “You know that guy at the bookstore that I talk about? Tom?”
Lillian giggled, “Oh. The guy you practically stalk.”
“I don’t stalk him.”
“Yeah, right. You’ve just never spoken to him other than giving him money for a book and your literature small talk.” She joked, but it sort of hit a nerve. You almost wanted to prove to her that you could talk to him, you were just nervous as to what to say past your total amount and tax.
“Okay, but you don’t have to put it that way.” You pouted, but she handed you a drink.
“Well, you can forget about bookstore boy, and we can have a little fun tonight. Cheers!” She diverted your attention to your cups, pushing them together before she took a long sip.
You watched her, but didn’t drink with her. Instead your eyes shifted around the excited crowd, but no luck in finding your crush with brown curls and shiny brown eyes to match. You twisted your lips and took a small sip of your bitter beverage, squeezing your eyes shut as it burned the inside of your throat.
“What is that?” You hissed.
“I don’t know, but it gets you loose.” Lillian jokes, hugging you quickly before she pulled you to where everyone was dancing… or what could be described as dancing. It was more like drunken movement between strangers while flashed by neon colors in sequences.
Trying to dance with Lillian in a restraint costume didn’t help until there were two taps on your shoulder. You quickly turned around, acquainted with Tom’s blonde friend— just dressed in shorts made out of the big cloth from Twister.
“Hey! You’re the cute girl from the bookshop, right?” Harrison chuckled.
“Yeah! And you’re the best friend of the cute guy at the bookstore?” You confidently said, raising your eyebrows.
Harrison shared the same expression, “Cute?” He smirked, “I bet he’d love to hear that if he were down here… Hey, why don’t you do him a favor and try to get him down here to have fun.”
“Why? Where is he?” You asked over the music.
“Upstairs in his room, working on his papers… C’mon, I bet he’d be happy to see you.”
Harrison winked at you before turning back to the girl he was dancing with, tipping his head back to down his beer. When searching for Lillan, you saw her dance with some of your shared friends by the unlit fireplace.
*✭˚·ﾟ✧*·ﾟ*✭˚·ﾟ✧*·ﾟ*
With the door cracked open, Tom listened to the muffled music below as well as the occasional conversation passing by to find an empty room. The bright light from the lamp on his desk shined against his paper. Although you remained silent, Tom took a quick sip of his to-go coffee and blinked his tired, dry eyes a few times.
After two light knocks, Tom assumed it was Harrison, once again, asking him to come downstairs, but instead his heart shot up to his throat when he saw you standing in his doorframe. He was even more surprised seeing caution tape wrapped around your body like a tacky, shiny dress.
“Hey! Hey, nice to see you… especially with your new look.” Tom jeered.
You giggled, “I could say the same, never really see the bottom half of you.”
The two of you shared a warm laugh before Tom shyly asked, “What- What are you doing here?”
“My friend sort of invited me at the last second, then your friend told me that I should come up here and try to urge you to come downstairs… possibly in a costume.” You trailed.
Tom licked his lips, “I appreciate it, but I’m working on some papers tonight. I want to get them done before tomorrow morning”
“A few papers over a party in your own fraternity?”
He hummed, “Well, papers I write for ten dollars a page. Paid in cash or credit… usually.” Tom smirked, crossing his arms as he leaned back in his chair.
“Do I even want to know the other options?” You joked, slowly walking further into the room.
His blush was hard for him to hide, so he lowered his head down to hide the rosiness on his cheeks when he stood up to stretch. As Tom reached his arms over his head, the end of his shirt lifted a bit and you could see his v-line that disappeared past the band of his Calvin Klein boxers.
Making you blush in return, you rub the back of your neck and look at some of the posters lazily taped on his dull, baby blue-colored walls. Shockingly, not one model from Playboy or Sports Illustrated was staring back at you in a tiny string bikini, rather there were posters of his favorite bands, a few classical authors by his bookcase and distressed movie posters of The Empire Strikes Back and Jaws above his full bed.
“Sorry, it’s kind of a mess.” Tom tossed a few t-shirts on his bed in his hamper by the door.
He said that, but it was probably the cleanest guy’s room you ever saw. Besides the clothes scattered around, the bed was made and his desk was fairly organized. There was even a trash can–with a trash bag to line it.
“Mess? I wish my room looked like this half the time.” You jeered, walking over to his bookcase, “A bookcase says a lot about someone to me.”
Tom chuckled, leaning on his desk, “And what does mine tell you?”
You awkwardly sat down on the end of his bed, trying to cross your leg over the other. You tried not to show that the plastic coiled around your body was uncomfortable, but one wrong move and you thought that you may expose yourself to Tom at any second.
“You okay?” He asked, “I don’t want to assume, but you look very tense.”
“Wow, it’s that noticeable.” You joked back, Tom chuckling in return. “Yeah, it wasn’t my idea to come tonight so, I got stuck wearing this.” You added, running your hand over the material.
He could see the pout on your face, maybe even a bit of embarrassment, so he suggested, “Do you want to change? I can give you something to wear. Not as much plastic, but more comfortable.” He joked.
Your face heated as you stood up, watching him pull clothes from his drawers. He grabbed a dark-blue Tottenham sweatshirt with a faded logo and baggy, gray sweatpants with your university logo embroidered by the hip.
“Here, hope these are okay.”
“Trust me, anything but this dress is fine.” You grinned, taking them from him. Your hand grazed his, making him gulp as you pulled the clothes to you, “Do you mind if I change in here?”
Tom raised his eyebrows, not realizing he wasn’t responding until he nodded, “Yeah! Yeah, I can just turn around.” He reassured, rubbing the back of his neck. His eyes searched around his room, trying to fixate on any small object.
Like the vinyl player in the corner on top of the rack, something he bought out of being impulsive. At the time, his dad had given him some old records that he had found in the attic from spring cleaning, music that was popular when he was Tom’s age. Tom stopped listening to them after–
“Well, I certainly look the part of being a frat dude.” You jeered, turning for him.
“I think you look pretty...”
Way to sound creepy, Tom thought.
“Pretty nice!” He quickly added, trying to save himself from embarrassment.
You smiled at his shy compliment before glancing at the papers scattered around his desk, “So, what are you working on?”
“Uh, themes in Frankenstein. It’s actually my final paper.”
You arched your eyebrow, but admired how he had three different drafts and all of them were marked in red. As you leaned further down to read, Tom quickly shuffled the papers, “It’s not really my best. I’ve been through every book talking about Mary Shelley and her reason for this book... It’s pretty scandalous if you ask me.”
God. He was so dorky, it almost made him charming.
Just as you were going to say your joking comment, the music got louder downstairs and you two could feel the heavy vibration of the bass through the carpet.
“Is your paper the only reason you’re up here by yourself?”
“Well, technically you’re up here with me so, am I really by myself?” Tom shrugged.
You chuckled, “Don’t deflect.”
Tom licked his lips, letting out a long sigh, “I just need enough cash to cover tuitions, and saving up for grad school too. My family has gotten tied up in money and my friend, Harrison, said that he could help me be in a frat and I could make more connections. So, I’m not really here to have fun, more like just doing what I can to make some money and add to my resume.”
“I know we just met, but… Can I give you some advice?” You sighed.
He naively nodded, his eyes turning glassy.
“You need to have some fun while you’re still in college.” You giggled, not meaning to sound mean, but you didn’t have to touch Tom to know he was a tense guy.
Tom responded with a nervous chuckle, “I’ve had… fun. I have fun. This party theme just isn’t really for me.” He protested.
“Well, I can’t disagree with you there.” You grinned, glancing at your now-cozy outfit, “Then what do you want to do tonight? What’s your fun thing?... other than reading the Mary Shelley scandal.”
His eyes searched around the room, then hummed, “It would be nice to have some peace and quiet… maybe work on my papers–”
You interpreted, “Okay, no, no. You’re not working on any papers, it’s about having fun. So, let’s go somewhere you think is fun.”
He smirked which made you think that he had a good idea, rather he said, “We can go to the bookstore.”
Actually, that wasn’t a bad idea.
You leaned against his desk, “Really? How?”
“My aunt and uncle own it.” He smirked.
“Ah. So, you’re like a bookstore nepotism baby. How lucky.” You grinned, cringing at your own jokes on the inside. But, it’s not like flirting was either of your fortes.
“Some kids get into movie premieres and have luxury cars, I have books and the cat that hangs in the front window until he goes back to his owners across the street.”
“I always wondered if that was your guys’ cat.” You smiled.
Tom nodded, “His name is Milo and he loves eating our plants and sleeping on the classic novels.”
You shared another light laugh before you said, “What are we waiting for? Get your jacket on.”
*✭˚·ﾟ✧*·ﾟ*✭˚·ﾟ✧*·ﾟ*
Once you took a step outside the house, the night breeze felt cool against your sweaty skin. The fresh air was a relief to your lungs once you walked out of the humid-filled frat house, like you had forgotten how clean it could smell outside.
Although the bookstore was a few blocks away from campus, Tom made you comfortable as he made you. Both of you weren’t sure if there were feelings, but there could be since your interaction isn’t ending with you leaving him behind a counter.
Tall street lights guided the way, and the only people passing were stumbling from the few bars lining your college town. There was little small talk between you two on the way, but Tom stopped in front of a convenience store, one he frequently went to if he wanted something to snack on during his shifts.
He walked toward the door, opening it, “You want anything?” He asked.
You nodded, walking in as he held the door open. The two of you walked into the small store with white walls and bright lighting over all the aisles. He walked around the chips and candy, heading to the big freezer with the familiar ice cream brands around the case.
The two of you gazed over it, smiling at the variety of choices like two kids. You couldn’t remember the last time you picked from the freezer– probably before you were even given an allowance. You were seeing another side of Tom, one that was a bit goofy when the stress faded from his character.
“Which one do you want?... I think I’m gonna get a cookie sandwich.” He hummed.
“No way. The strawberry shortcakes with the oats? Or the gelatos? Way better options.” You giggled.
He chuckled at your wit, “Okay, you pick for me. I pick for you. Does that sound fair?”
“Hmm…” You smirked, sticking your hand out, “Deal.”
Tom smiled as he shook yours, both your fingers trailing when you pushed open the glass case.
“Okay. Turn around…” You said, circling your finger to signal him to face back.
The curly brunette rolled his eyes with a small smile on his face, taking a slow turn around with his arms crossed. He stared at the rack of colorful packed snacks, reading the brands and flavors.
You grunted as you shoved the sliding window, then grabbed an ice cream bar of your choice. Putting it behind your back, you tell him, “Okay, your turn.”
Tom smiled to himself, seeing you try to conceal your ice cream bar under the hoodie as you headed toward the counter. He could hear your exchange with the cashier before Tom grabbed an ice cream bar out of the freezer, quickly closing it and hiding his pick behind his back.
“I hope you got me something good.” You teased, facing him and your hands behind your back holding the plastic convenience bag..
He sweetly chuckled again, “I think I did okay… I think you should be worried.”
“Ah, are you hard to please, Tom?” You continued to jeer with him.
All he could do was turn pink, chuckling out of embarrassment like an elementary boy in school. There was a glimmer in his brown eyes and you weren’t sure if it was from the bright lights in the store, but it made your heart pang at how innocent and sweet he appeared.
The two of you walked outside, sitting on the bench under the awning of the convenient store. There was a space between you as the bags crinkled when both of you reached into them. Counting down, you pulled out your ice cream bars for one another and it left you both with smiles and light laughter.
“Great minds think alike.” Tom grinned.
Both of you held the same ice cream bar, still exchanging the treats and opening them. As you ate on the bench, there was silence– but it was comforting silence. Better than surround sound music and drinks being spilled everywhere, preferring the sound of crickets and watching some stray cats walk by the alleys.
You tried to prevent any drops of ice cream getting on the hoodie he let you borrow, leaning out as you bit down and it made him chuckle.
“It’s okay. It’s an old hoodie.”
“Yeah, but, I don’t want to be a slob.” You grinned, trying to ignore how nervous you felt.
“Here, I got it.” He said, leaning over to wipe your chin with a napkin.
You glanced into his eyes again as he came close, holding your breath.
“There, now you are a presentable member of society again.” He jeered, putting the napkin in his wrapper before tossing it in the bin next to the bench.
The two of you stand up together, pulling and adjusting your clothes before continuing the venture to the bookstore. Street lights shined down on the red brick sidewalk, and a few cars passed by as they headed toward the center of town as you both walked further out from the noise of the bars and partying.
Chirping from the crickets was peaceful and the rest of the way was lit by the full moon, making you glance at the glowing orb high above the clouds and surrounded by the stars. The shine reflected off your eyes, smiling at the breathtaking sight but unknowing to you, Tom was glaring at you.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” You asked.
“Yeah.” He trailed, not taking his eyes off you as he shyly grinned.
Tom wished he had spoken to you sooner, not knowing how to express right then and there how he had some sort of feelings for you.
You turned back to him, “Are you okay?”
Embarrassed, he quickly nodded, “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. Great.”
You grinned back at him, “Good.” you said before the two of you continued to walk to the bookstore.
*✭˚·ﾟ✧*·ﾟ*✭˚·ﾟ✧*·ﾟ*
The soft warm glow shined on Tom’s back as his keys jingled when he unlocked the front door.
“You got it?” You ask him, watching him turn the key both ways until there was a click.
“Yeah, it’s pretty old so-”
Tom pushed enough of his weight with his shoulder against the door, opening the seal the door created from how cold it was outside. He half-smiled before walking into the dark room and you followed close behind him.
With how many times you’d been in this store, you could bet Tom that you knew the layout better than him. You carefully stepped around the racks of books, leading to the counter before you heard a loud thump.
“Ow!” Tom hissed under his breath, instantly rubbing his knee from cutting the corner too hard.
“Are you okay?” You giggled.
“Lovely.” He groaned, rubbing away against his soon-to-be bruised skin.
He turned on the reading lamp on the counter, the warm glow against his freckled skin. You noticed how he was able to smile with his eyes, the crinkling next to them when he laughed or smiled. Although you didn’t mean to observe that, it was hard to not notice. He radiated some kind of shine in the way he carried himself– at least from what you gathered.
“So, I’m sure you have some weird stuff behind here, huh?” You teased him, squatting down to look at the shelves.
“Nothing weird, but I hoard books… without telling anyone.” He admitted in a low tone, scratching the nape of his neck.
There was a collection of books down here filling up two rows, most of them had bright tabs on the sides to indicate some annotations between pages. The books ranged from recent autobiographies and novels to ones with broken spines and the names of classic writers on the covers.
You came back up, “I think you have a problem.” You jeered, smiling at him.
“As if being interested in literature is a problem.”
“...Touché.” You nodded, “Do you like working here?”
“Yeah. I guess.” He trailed, “It kills time, it’s quiet.”
“As opposed to going home?” You asked out of curiosity. He was sort of like a guessing game. One clue led to another, intriguing you as you went down this mystery path of a person.
“Uh, I don’t… I don’t go home anymore.” He nervously chuckled, “Haven’t been for a while.”
Heat burned his cheeks and neck, not realizing he was venting in the moment.
“Sorry to hear that.” You gently replied and sensed his discomfort as he looked down.
Tom hummed, “It’s alright. I feel less lonely here.” He shrugged, picking at his fingernails before looking into your eyes.
“Well, now you have me so… it’s a little less lonely than that.” You smiled, scrunching your nose. “...and that may have been the corniest thing I’ve said ever.”
“Yeah, just a little.” Tom nodded, and a sweet chuckle followed, “But, thanks.”
He had a bit of a twinkle in his caramel-toned eyes, and his jaw was incredibly sharp. When he looked away, he’d clench his jaw and you noticed how tense he seemed.
Tom smiled, blushing a bit before he pushed the book on top of the counter toward him. It was an old copy of Pride and Prejudice that he found on a top shelf a few weeks ago. He re-read it three times, and each time felt like a different experience. He rarely annotated, but Tom genuinely loved reading this book and wanted to write down any thought he had about it.
“A favorite?” You asked him.
“Can you tell?” He chuckled, passing it to you.
You skimmed the pages, running your fingers over the different colored post-its sticking out. His handwriting was a bit small, but you could make out what he noted and you found it incredibly cute. You smiled to yourself as you read through them, and Tom hoped there was nothing embarrassing in there– not that there would be but he was already nervous around you.
Just as you got to the last page, a picture fell out and you turned it over to its front. The frame was cardboard with the Disney logo on it and the picture was of Tom and his parents. Sporting a Mickey Mouse baseball cap, he showed a huge smile and held a melting ice cream. His mom and dad were smiling too, his mom with her arm around his small structure and Tom gulped.
“Are these your parents?” You asked.
“Yeah, I was wondering where I left that picture.” He smiled, taking it from you.
You watched him grin at it, but the smile slowly faded the longer he glanced. It didn’t seem so much reminiscing, but feeling more sad. He didn’t want to get down on himself, but he put the picture underneath the counter.
“It’s cute. My parents never took me to those kinds of places growing up, but I was never the Disney princess lover either.” You pouted.
He chuckled, “What? You didn’t want a Disney prince? Something like Prince Eric?”
You hummed, “You do resemble a bit of Prince Phillip.”
Tom furrowed his eyebrows, crossing his arms, “The boring one?”
“Okay, okay. Maybe Prince Charming… you look like you can treat a girl to a dance,” you teased.
“The one time I slow danced was at my prom in year 13 and I remember stepping on her feet most of the night.” He told, trying to deflect your compliment
You rolled your eyes, “Oh, please. Now you’re being dramatic like a prince.” You grinned at him.
Hesitantly, you moved your hand toward his face and pushed back the curls laying on his forehead. Your fingers carded to the back of his head, feeling his soft coarse hair and his brown eyes sparkled. It was a bold first move, but you wanted to know if this intense crush was too good to be true.
All this passes through Tom’s head is “do it”, his instincts scream. Kiss her.
You brought your hand back to his cheek, and you brushed your thumb over his bottom lip before leaning in to kiss him. Tom slowly moved his hands up your sides, pulling you closer to him as the two of you continued to makeout. He lightly pushed you against the counter, your bodies pressed together as he tasted your cherry-flavored lip balm.
With your foreheads against one anothers, Tom pulled away to take a breath, but it caused you both to let out this warm giggle. Just as you were about to kiss again, there was a sudden knock on the door along with the doorknob jiggling.
You quickly ducked under the counter while Tom stood there, trying to fix his hair as well as rub the lip balm off his mouth. He saw his uncle walk through the door, turning on the lights and Tom’s embarrassment flooded his body.
“I thought we were getting robbed. The silent alarm went off a few minutes ago.” His uncle told him, pretty light-hearted once he saw it was Tom.
“No, it was just me.” Tom gulped, glancing down at you hiding under the counter.
“Good, good. Why are you here so late? Your mom told me you had some party tonight.” His uncle trailed, shoving his hands in his pockets.
“It was getting… loud and I just left to get some air. Work on some papers.”
You could audibly hear his uncle sigh, then say, “Is this because of… the divorce?”
Tom sealed his lips, it wasn’t what he wanted to talk about right now– especially since you were unknowingly in the room. Although divorce was a common thing, it was different going through when you’re already grown up and that was Tom’s struggle. He knew his parents had underlying issues, but he didn’t think he would get sat down and told his parents would separate their lives then and now.
“I know, it’s hard. But, you have to talk to someone about this. We don’t want you… hiding away, missing out on opportu-”
“I’m not, I just… wanted to be alone.” Tom shrugged, trying to grin and bear it.
His uncle didn’t want to get more into it since Tom was still going through it, but he nodded.
“Alright, make sure to lock up when you’re done. See you tomorrow, kid.” He sweetly said before he walked back out, the bell above the door ringing. Tom was only left with a bright red face, and a sudden racing in his heart. It’s like he realized how lonely he had made himself to be rather than people avoiding him altogether.
Coming from under the counter, you dusted off your shirt at first. You didn’t want to immediately face Tom, sensing there was a bit of awkwardness created. He rubbed the back of his curls, but you finally broke the silence.
“Sorry, my lip balm kind of… got all over your lips.” You joked, taking your thumb to wipe the smudge of gloss from his chin.
Tom smiled, but nodded, “Well, I’m more sorry you had to hear that, but it’s no big deal. I don’t know why my family has so many issues.”
“I think they’re just genuinely worried about you. I mean, you don’t seem much of the talking type.” You confessed.
“It’s ironic. They don’t ask about any of this stuff until I just don’t say anything at all. Maybe, I just want to be left alone and be able to think about how the only two stable people in my life just choose to not be with each other anymore.” He trailed, trying to humor himself.
You could tell he’d been hurt by people before, but this was something he was expecting. It was still shocking, but he chose to close everyone off.
Tom thought if he didn’t have to talk about these feelings, they’d go away. But, by telling you, basically a complete stranger, how he felt— his hurt was more on the surface than he thought.
“Well, you don't deserve to feel this way.” You told him with honesty, rubbing his tense shoulder, “If I can promise you one thing.”
There was a bit of comfort in that. At least someone acknowledging his feelings over their own.
“Thanks.” He grinned.
“Please, you’re one cigarette away from being Holden Caulfield. I felt like I needed to step in now… because he was the worst.”
Tom rolled his eyes, “He witnessed worse.”
“Well, luckily he’s a fictional character. Meanwhile, you need to worry about how you feel, and not be so… scared of thinking the world is going to get you.” You trailed, running your hand from your shoulder to the back of his curls.
*✭˚·ﾟ✧*·ﾟ*✭˚·ﾟ✧*·ﾟ*
A week and a half breezed by and all you did was hang out with Tom at the bookstore, the library, or his room at his fraternity house. Occasionally, Harrison would pop in, trying to tease him, but also try to get to know you since Tom cared about you. It was actually a bit cute the way Harrison would pinch at Tom’s cheek, trying to make him flustered in your presence. You could tell he cared about him too.
Once your finals were finished and Tom was paid for his essays, it was nice to hang around the bookstore without the added tension. You could hang out for hours and read books in the cozy corner of the store, near the cat by the window and the sunlight would kiss against your skin. Sometimes Tom would get lost in the mesmerizing scene–like being with you meant more than fate. Something like he read in novels.
The sun was starting to set when the two of you entered the pizzeria where Harrison worked. Both of you nodded your heads over at him behind the counter before finding a booth by the window.
“Look at him in his cute apron.” You teased, sliding into the booth.
“Trust me, he thinks it’s a magnet for girls. I wouldn’t let him know.” Tom chuckled.
Although you and Tom were having a fun time, you hadn’t talked about the kiss you shared. Not that it wasn’t on both your minds, but felt better left unsaid than having to figure out what’s going on between you two and ruining this blossoming friendship. It already took long enough to talk to each other outside the bookstore, neither of you wanted to taint that.
“So, do you have any plans for the weekend?” You asked him.
Before Tom could answer, Harrison slid next to him already sporting a cheeky smile and wiped some flour on Tom’s cheek from his apron.
“What are you two gossiping about, huh? Or just miss me?” Harrison winked at you, but Tom wiped the flour off his face.
“We just wanted to grab a slice.” Tom cheeks tinted pink, feeling as if he’s being embarrassed by his dad.
“Calm down, Tommy.” Harrison smiled, “You’re too easy to mess with sometimes.” Harrison jokingly retorted.
You giggled, “Don’t worry, I’m gonna go and order.” You tell them before getting up, heading to the counter.
The two boys watched you walk up to the counter, beaming at the cashier as you made small talk before ordering. Tom’s look glistened, sparkling when he kept his eyes on you and Harrison snickered at his doe-like gaze.
“So, you guys made out and nothing happened?”
It was no lie that Tom regretted venting Harrison–moments like this reminded him of that.
Tom gulped, “I think what’s going on is fine.” He lied.
“Fine?” Harrison asked, “You’ve been crushing on her for weeks and she obviously likes you too.”
“You can’t know that.” Tom trailed.
“She’s been to the bookstore everyday to hang out with you, going out to dinner, spending time at the house and you know no girl likes hanging out there, look at the bathroom for God’s sake, it’s disgusting. No woman willingly stays there unless she’s basically in love.” Harrison explained.
Tom nodded in disagreement, “I don’t think she… likes me. I’m not gonna mess up just talking to her.”
“You’re not. You just need to figure out how to make the right move.” Harrison stated before quickly asking, “Hey, you got invited to Steven’s wedding, right?”
Steven was one of the alumni of the frat house and a close friend of both the guys. Tom was a “baby-faced” freshman when they met and was still teased to this day for looking so young.
“Yeah. I did, but I don’t know if I’m going. It’s kind of far.” Tom trailed, scratching his nail against the table.
Harrison smiled, “No, you should go and Y/N is your plus one. Bam, matchmaking.”
Tom rolled his eyes, “Yeah because a two hour car trip would really make me less awkward and weird.”
“You need to be a little hopeful. It’s not like your strangers anymore. You guys hang out at the store for hours with no problems. C’mon, she’d love it. It’s a nice countryside wedding and lots of our friends will be there so it’s not like you’ll be the odd one out. Introduce her, and maybe find some romantic spot to makeout, huh?”
Tom thought Harrison was a bit in over his head, but trying to make him see the other side of his pessimistic thoughts. Tom liked you, you like Tom. The problem was finding the moment to say that outlook to each other.
He twisted his lips, “How do I even ask that?”
“You’ll know how to say it when the moment comes… which seems like right now.” Harrison smirked.
As you walked back with a table timer in your hand, already wanting it to vibrate with your order since you were starving. You slipped into the booth, noticing both boys getting quiet which made you giggle.
“Am I interrupting something private?” You teased them.
“Actually, we were talking about a wedding we’re going to next weekend.” Harrison immediately said.
Tom wanted to sink into his seat.
“A wedding? Aw, that’s nice.” You smiled, “Who’s wedding?”
“Our friend, Steven, is getting married and I think Tom wanted to ask you something…” Harrison insisted.
Tom’s eyes widened, but Harrison quickly said, “I gotta get back to work. I’ll bring your food right out.” He flashed a cheery smile, something Tom wanted to slap off his face if he could, before leaving you two to talk– more like Tom improving what to say.
The feeling could be compared to dropping a baby into the deep end, trying to teach them how to swim and all Tom could do is internally panic.
You thanked Harrison before facing toward Tom’s pink-tinted face, and you tilted your head with a cheeky smile, “Something to ask me?”
He sighed but nervously smiled, “Not to impose, but… I was wondering if you wanted to… go with me? To the wedding. I know it’s last minute and all, but I would really like you to go… with me.”
You giggled at his shy question, “I’d love to go with you, Tom. It sounds like fun.”
There was a relief in the air for Tom, not thinking you would accept so quickly and with an assuring smile.
“ Really?” He still asked.
“I don’t know why you assume the worst of me. Maybe being your wedding date will change that. Weddings always give people a bit of optimism” You chuckled, tilting your head at his shy expression.
A light chuckle left his lips, “Remember, optimism isn’t my thing. Then our personality equal us out.” He joked.
“Exactly why I’m the perfect wedding date. I make the conversations and you hold your drink and nod. It’ll be adorable.” You grinned back as heat radiated from your cheeks.
Tom can’t hold back his smile once you look out the window. His eyes traced your jaw then up your perfect cheekbones, trailing to your eyes as the streetlight reflected off the irises. He feels that moment again where he could confess everything he felt for you right there in front of everyone at the pizza place, a small amount of courage whispering in his ear to do it. Just to say it out loud.
“Here’s your complimentary garlic bread, love birds.” Harrison interrupted as he placed the plastic basket on the center of the table.
“Thank you for your incredible service.” You jeered at the cheeky blonde.
Tom laughed off his sudden thought, nodding at Harrison before you two started talking about the wedding plan since you were going now. The rest of the night was hanging out and eating together, talking about the future with classic rock playing over the old speakers in the restaurant.
There was a coziness that radiated the more you were vulnerable, even showing through being more relaxed while sitting in the booths. You felt like you could tell him anything and for once not have to think twice about what you revealed or said. No one could compare to Tom and you wish you could tell him that.
*✭˚·ﾟ✧*·ﾟ*✭˚·ﾟ✧*·ﾟ*
A breeze brushed past your face as you waited outside your apartment with your bags. You were sat on the front step, waiting for the two boys to pick you up on this nice summer day. Tempted to text them for a time of arrival, the door opened behind you and you glanced up to see Lillian.
“I went through the back only for your roommates to tell me you’re already waiting outside. I feel like I haven’t seen you in weeks.” She jeered as she sat next to you on the stoop.
You sighed, “Sorry, I’ve been hanging out with Tom.”
She chuckled, “Of course. I’m not surprised. It’s been this way ever since you ditched me at the party-”
“I didn’t mean to di-”
“I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” Lillian giggled, putting her hand on top of your knee, “I know you really like him.”
“I don’t… like him that much.”
“I can’t remember the last time someone could actually get your attention away from books or studying so, I like to call it fate that you met at the party.” She teased and scrunched her nose.
You rolled her eyes before turning your head, seeing the car come down the street and you quickly stand up. As you brush off the back of your pants, Lillian picks up one of your bags and the two of you slowly walk up to the curb. Once the car stopped, the two boys got out and Tom immediately greets you with his pearly smile.
“Hey Tom, Harrison, this is my friend, Lillian.” You introduced them, gesturing your head.
“Hey there.” She greeted both of them, moving her hair behind her shoulders, “Don’t let anything happen to her.”
“We promise.” Tom grinned, lowly chuckling before he took your bag she gave to him.
After giving a goodbye hug Lillian, you slid into the backseat of the car. You sat on the left side so you could sit diagonally from Tom’s view, already creating terribly awkward scenarios in your head for what this two hour drive may be like.
What if we don’t talk at all? What if I’m in over my head? What if this isn’t real or what I thought? What if this whole trip was going to be a big mistake?
Tom was pondering the same, but he tried his best not to doubt his own feelings. Especially after the, what Harrison would call, pep talk he gave him on the way to your building. Nevertheless, it made Tom especially when he already knew he was being incredibly shy, but knew Harrison meant well.
“Alright so, I found out Cami Bernet was coming and I wanted to stay in her room so… It’s just the two of you sharing the hotel room, yeah?” Harrison announced, making you and Tom share a sudden glance.
“I don’t mind…” You trailed, your eyes shifting.
“Yeah, no problem.” Tom quickly added.
Harrison smiled at your reactions, “Don’t worry, there’s one bed and a pull out couch.”
Tom’s face beamed a light pink, making him turn his head toward the window. But, you did the same by turning your face to see the street passing by as you were leaving town. Harrison couldn’t help but smirk to himself at how antagonizing he could be yet trying to be a perfect matchmaker.
*✭˚·ﾟ✧*·ﾟ*✭˚·ﾟ✧*·ﾟ*
Toward the end of the drive, you laid down in the backseat wearing the cozy hoodie Tom stuffed in his backpack. With your head sunk into your pillow and your legs curled up, you looked as comfortable as someone could on a road trip. A few times, Tom glanced over his shoulder to make sure you were okay when there was a sudden bump in the road, but you also looked cute nuzzling your face into your pillow.
Once you arrived to the hotel, you stirred in your daze as Harrison pulled in front of the huge front doors. Two valets walked up to the car, one on Harrison’s side then another by the trunk. As Tom got out, he quickly opened the back door and lightly shook your leg.
“Hey Y/N, we’re here.” He softly spoke, giving his hand for you to hold.
You blinked a few times, but lazily smiled as you wrapped your hand around his and pulled yourself up from the comfortable position you lied in. You pulled down your hoodie when you got out of the car, grabbing your bag on the floor while watching the valets take the rest of them to put on a luggage cart.
“Jesus, Tom. What’s in this?” Harrison asked as he gave Tom his duffle.
“A few books, some shoes…” He trailed.
“You brought books to a vacation wedding? How adorable.” Harrison teased him as he gave the valet his keys before entering the hotel doors.
You giggled, “What literary fix did you bring on a two day trip? Romantic novels, I bet.”
“Oh, yeah. That’s just my genre.” Tom chuckled, his eyebrows raised at his comment.
The entrance to the hotel was grand, to say the least. There were two large, revolving glass doors trimmed with gold that entered into the main lobby with renaissance art against the woven wallpaper. Both your heads tilted up toward the ceiling, admiring the pale murals along the lavish lights.
You could only hope to get married at such a beautiful place in the future, and you were pretty optimistic that you would find someone for that to happen.
Harrison faced the two of you walking toward him, noticing the way you glared at Tom and your eyes looking so bright. Although he was still looking at the scenery, your eyes were just on him. It made Harrison smirk, but turn back to the hotel front desk manager.
“Thanks.” Harrison grinned, taking the key card. He turned to Tom, “Here’s your key. Don’t be too loud and rowdy. This is a classy place.” He teased, seeing Tom already turn a tomato red.
You snickered, “Thanks, Harrison. You guys planned doing anything?”
Harrison nodded, “I’m meeting Cami by the pool then we’re gonna go back to her room before the rehearsal dinner. What about you guys?”
“I actually saw on their website that there’s a historical library on the second floor, a bunch of old collections.” You turned, “Tom? Interested?” You asked him with a beaming smile across your face.
Tom glanced at Harrison, who also was smiling, then back at you, “Yeah, of course. Sounds fun.”
“Wow, you guys really know how to get out of your comfort zone. Have fun with that.” Harrison, obviously sarcastic, stated before leaving to meet Cami.
Quickly, the two of you took the large, carpeted staircase on the second floor and followed the signs that directed toward the library. It wasn’t as fancy as the hotel, but it did look pretty old from the traditional style of the room.
You looked up at the high ceiling before heading toward the back shelves of familiar British authors. Although most of these titles triggered him back to all the essays he was paid to do his last year of college, he glared back at you completely mesmerized by the complete collections.
“Look, Williams works. All his romanticism in one set. I bet that’s like a dream to you.” You smiled to yourself, flashing back to your late night ramblings over the phone about literature. You never thought you’d meet anyone with a bigger opinion on themes of romance– and Tom was pretty convincing in his arguments. Truly adorable when you he went on his tangents, just wanting to listen to his soft voice all day.
Tom traced his fingers along the spines of the books before selecting one to read. He breezed through the pages, noticing the pictures within the text before he glanced up and didn’t see you straight on.
“Y/N?”
“Over here!” Your voice echoed.
He followed the sound of your tone then seeing you sitting in a comfortable nook that overlooked the beach and pool area.
“I found the best seat in the house.” You jeered, pulling your legs to your chest with your back against the wall of the nook.
Tom joined you, sitting down on the cushion within the space and facing you from the opposite side. The natural sunlight came through the window beautifully, so much so that he was already in the reading mood.
You grin, “I bet a bunch of writers came here and just wrote their hearts out.” You said as you looked out to the calm ocean.
“Or where a lot of people hid from their brides.” Tom jeered.
You rolled your eyes, then crawled over to his side. You instantly curled up next to him, your head against his chest as the two of you glanced at the page of the book together. Tom didn’t expect you to get so close, but he wasn’t complaining.
Within that time, you learned that Tom is the fast reader between you two. Dorky enough, you were a bit envious of that. Everytime he tried to turn the page to tease you, you’d quickly put your hand up to stop him and plea that he stop moving his eyes so fast.
About thirty pages in, Tom hadn’t realized he was flying through the pages with how in depth he was of the text. He turned his head and saw you fell asleep, smiling down at you and not knowing the short car ride really tired you out. He didn’t move though, he wouldn’t dare to with how peaceful you appeared. He chuckled at your light breaths, napping against him with your hand at the center of his chest.
*✭˚·ﾟ✧*·ﾟ*✭˚·ﾟ✧*·ﾟ*
A few minutes later, you woke up in Tom’s arms and almost sprung up from the embarrassment.
“Sorry, I didn’t realize I passed out.” You chuckled, lifting out of his arms.
“No, it’s okay. I was just reading away.” He shrugged, showing that boyish smile that made your heart race.
The two of you came to the conclusion that you were starved, so you thought of the only bougie thing to do on a wedding weekend– ordering room service. Giddy and smiling, both of you went one of the three huge elevators in the hall and headed to the eleventh floor.
When you entered your room, your luggage was lined up by the door. Neither of you wanted to gawk, but it was probably one of the more fancier places either of you stayed in your lives.
There was a deep tub in the bathroom and robes hanging on the door as well as a king-size bed with an incredible ocean view and balcony. The sofa was in the corner with the mini-fridge next to it, making you curious as to what else they could offer.
“Do you think if we take from here Harrison will kill us?” You asked Tom, opening the small fridge door.
“Kill, no. Strangle? Maybe.”
You giggled, but saw a few sodas and healthy snacks. As you checked out the selection, Tom walked back to the bathroom and turned on the light. His eyes widened to a bottle of champagne on ice set on the counter. There was a tiny card next to the bucket that said: Happy Wedding Everyone! From us, to you! XO The Bride and Groom.
Holy shit, how much was Steven paying for this. Tom thought.
“Wow, that’s for us?” You asked peaking from the doorway.
“I say that we toast. It only seems right.” Tom trailed as he checked the label on the bottle.
Maybe this wouldn’t be as awkward of a night as the two of you dread. Thank God.
Tom already popped the cork, making you hurry back with a bit of a pout on your lip.
“Well, couldn’t find wine glasses but I did find hotel coffee mugs. Much more sophisticated.”
After pouring both cups at least half, the two of you sat on the balcony to admire the scene. The view from your hotel room was beautiful, as if it was a green screen. The sun perfectly setting below the shorelines and the winds blowing the tall grass in the dunes. It reminded you both that it was the summertime; a period of time to relax and destress from the fast pace environment of school and warm up from the previous harsh winters.
There was a freedom in the air, almost confusing from how much time you suddenly had.
“This is definitely the kind of view I want for my wedding.” You trailed, a bit mesmerized.
Tom nodded, “Really?”
“Yeah. A beach wedding is romantic… well, until it gets windy, but I know I’ll get my planning down.” You said before turning to him, “Where do you want to get married?”
His heart skipped a beat, “I’ve never thought about it.”
You scoffed, “Never?”
He nodded, “Never ever. My dad sort of said that it’s what the woman does and the man just nods and agrees.”
“God, your dad sounds like a joy… No offense.” You quickly corrected yourself.
“He’s always been like that. Then I wonder why they didn’t work out.” Tom tried to humor himself.
Your lips went to the side before saying, “Hey, that’s their issues. It doesn’t fall on you or anything. I personally think they did do a great job at raising their son. He turned out pretty okay.” You grinned, holding your cup with both hands.
Tom smirked, “I can agree with okay.”
When he looked at you, it’s like he had this crush on you for years. He thought for a moment that maybe if he believed in his gut feeling, there could be a chance with you. He couldn’t keep backing out each time he wanted to ask you that simple question.
You wondered the same just a few feet away from him. You didn’t want to think so highly of yourself in his perspective, but the thought of getting over this crush would make you feel nothing but regret.
Something was there. The word for it was unknown at the moment. Ultimately, it was now or never.
*✭˚·ﾟ✧*·ﾟ*✭˚·ﾟ✧*·ﾟ*
In the early hours of the day, you and Tom found yourselves in a rush to get ready. As you tried to do your makeup in the bathroom, Tom was in the main room looking in the long mirror while trying to perfect his black tie. He wore a nice navy blue suit with a white button up, feeling like he was playing dress up since he never went to many fancy occasions other than important fraternity meetings.
“How are you doing in there?” You asked him, contorting your face to make sure there were no creases in your concealer.
“I remember why I wear clip-on ties.” He mumbled as he pulled at the end of the tie, but the knot was too crooked by his collar.
As you put down the brush, you grabbed one of your earrings and tried putting it on as you walked out to see where he was at. You saw how he struggled to figure out what shirt to where, seeing the two other unbuttoned ones on the pull-out coach he slept on last night.
“Here, let me try.” You trailed, standing right in front of him so you could align the tie. Tom glanced at you, your eyes focused on the centering as your fingers moved the knot around to get it just right. He gulped with how close you were to him– the last time being when you two had a short make-out before being interrupted. If he kept thinking about it, the more red his cheeks would get and he tried to let his mind go somewhere else.
“There, that’s better. A wedding date has never looked so handsome.” You teased, patting down his tie on top of his shirt. He nervously chuckled, both of you sharing a shy smile before you touched his gelled curls to fix the stray strand of hair by his forehead.
“Now, how do I look?” You asked him, dramatically posing with your hands on your hips. You wore a knee high dress, a pale blue that complimented Tom’s shade of blue where it still matched.
“You look beautiful.” Tom complimented in complete awe.
Heat rose your face, genuinely flustered, “Good, we should probably head down there… before Harrison can think of any comments to throw our way.”
“You’re right.” Tom groaned.
Well, Harrison’s insinuated comments were well in his head anyways so, you two got a few of those before the three of you headed to the wedding venue outside by the beach. Harrison briefly mentioned Cami, not getting into too many details which was for the best (at the moment).
The three of you took your white fold-out seats toward the middle of the left side, Tom and Harrison pointing out Steven’s family in the front row. You picked up the pamphlet that sat on the chair, the cover showing a professionally taken picture of the couple.
Smiling, you read through the brief summary of the ceremony and Tom kept giving you short glares. He really couldn’t believe how beautiful you looked, especially in the warm sun and beautiful setting around you all.
Once everyone gathered, the wedding started and eventually everyone stood up for the bride’s entrance. You saw her already tearing up, almost making you want to shed tears as well, but you held it together. It was nice to see this woman so happy and you didn’t even know her– you just knew she was happy.
All went well and thorough, everyone awing at the ring bearer and flower girls, but then the vows came and there was nothing but silence.
“I promise to love you today as much as I did yesterday, as much as I will tomorrow and years to come.”
Both you and Tom got shivers up your spine, relating those words. You glance down at Tom’s hand resting between his legs, watching him pick at his nails, and you carefully placed your hand on top of his wrist. He didn’t even realize he was doing it, a shy smile to show his bit of embarrassment. You quietly giggled, squeezing his hand before bringing your hand back to your own lap.
Tom let out a shaky sigh, gulping and thinking his tie was now strangling his throat.
The ceremony would end in a beautiful kiss before the bride and groom left back down the aisle. Everyone slowly moved over to the reception which was only a few feet away under a huge white tent. The cake was set as well as the food and free bar, everyone, including Tom, able to loosen their ties and even take off their shoes to dance.
“That was really nice. Anything like you want at your non-thought of wedding?” You jeered at Tom, walking next to him.
He nodded, “I took a few mental notes. But, my eyes may have been concentrating too much at what color pink the bridesmaid dresses were.”
“I was thinking between a light flamingo or cotton candy.” You scrunched your nose.
With booze and food being passed around, all the wedding guests were having a great time. With the sun set and the fairy lights beaming around the tent, everyone was having fun and embracing the bride and groom’s special day. Their first dance together was sweet, applauded and wooed before the real party started.
Hooked on A Feeling by Blue Swede began mid-verse, making everyone laugh at how random the song was. People linked together, swinging back and forth with happiness painted on every face.
“Do you want to dance?” You asked Tom, getting up from your seat and giving your hand out to him.
He nodded, “I’m good right now.”
“C’mon. One dance.” You pouted, “Don’t leave me hanging here.”
“Maybe later.” Tom chuckled, turning a bit pink.
That was one thing he forgot before the trip– how to dance with rhythm in his step.
“I’ll warm you up and maybe makeTom realize he’s missing out.” Harrison jeered, stepping in to take your hand.
Tom dazed in pure awe of you sway back and forth with Harrison. He wasn’t envious, confident knowing that his bestfriend wouldn’t do that to him, but just being able to see you gracefully dance was like seeing an floating angel glide on clouds. Harrison spun you a few times, throwing your hand back in laughter just from the positive atmosphere.
A minute or two passed in the song, and Tom leaned his arm on the back of his seat, grinning at your smile, but you suddenly made eye contact across the room.
He blushed as you and Harrison walked back over, hoping he wouldn’t be making a fool of himself.
“It’s your turn.” You smiled, taking his hand and Tom got out of his seat. Harrison purposely cheered for both of you loudly, making a scene to tease Tom, but he was happy that Tom was happy. Brown Eyed Girl started playing when you both planted your feet and instantly grooved to the fast beat. Sure, the songs were kind-of cheesy, but it’s expected at a wedding and all you could do was embrace it.
You two merged into the dancing crowd, everyone happy and spinning around as well as kids jumping around between their parents. You wrapped your arms around Tom’s neck, both of you moving and swaying and people passed by singing some of the lyrics. Even Steven and his bride cut in, making everyone cheer for them and laugh.
Once the night calmed down, with kids and older folks heading to their rooms, slower songs played for the guests still enjoying their time. As nice of a night it was, you looked out at the beach from afar and Tom was nursing his drink next to you.
“Do you want to… go see if we can sit on the beach?” You hesitantly asked, wondering if it was cheesy.
Tom nodded, “Sure. Yeah.” He half-smiled.
You both walked together from the wedding tent, heading down the unlit path. Tom grabbed one of the folded blankets displayed in a bin for people who wanted to sit on the beach any time of the day.
As you two got closer to the beach, Tom couldn’t help but notice everything going on. The moonlight, the leftover pink petals and rice in the sand, even dolphins fins going by within the waves.
No one could make this up as the most perfect moment to ask someone out. Tom cracked his knuckles, the two of you listening to the crash of the waves against the shore, before he stuttered out his words.
“D-Did you have fun tonight?” He shyly asked, not looking at you.
“Yeah, I had a lot of fun. I’m glad you invited me…” You trailed.
Okay, this was the moment. Tom thought, This is when you tell her.
He gulped, but you spoke before him.
“Are you okay?” You furrowed your brow.
Tom cleared his throat, “Yeah! Yeah, I just… I want to tell you something.”
You giggled at his sudden shyness, getting closer to him, “What’s going on?” You grinned, but a bit concerned. You couldn’t gauge if his tone was happy or upset.
He didn’t want to take a completely dramatic pause, but there wasn’t enough air in the world for his lungs to feel like they were working. His tongue felt dry, his skin felt cold, holding his breath until it just all slipped out.
“I really like you and… I haven’t been able to figure out how to say it. I read these books about love and what it is but, I couldn’t think of anything to say for shit.” Tom chuckled, his neck and cheeks heated, “But, now I know that I want to be with you and I’ve known that ever since you came into my life wearing some caution tape and gave you my hoodie… I think that you’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met.”
He couldn’t believe he admitted it out loud, feeling a bit faint from letting it all out at once.
You chuckled in relief, “I like you too, Tom. We’ve spent so much time together and you’re so fun to be with that I’ve been tripping over myself wondering if you felt the same.” You thought your heart was in your throat and butterflies bursted in your stomach, “I didn’t want to be that weird girl who just thinks she’s in love with the cute guy at the bookstore she spends too much time at during the day.”
Tom gulped, surprised by your response, but he had to catch his breath again when your eyes met again. The moment was still a bit awkward, not knowing what to say next, but you bite your bottom lip, “I think this is the part in books and movies where we kiss and ride into the sunrise on your beautiful steed.”
He cracked a smile and leaned in, his hand against your cheek before your lips met. You would be lying if you said you weren’t dying for this kiss to happen. Like that end at any sappy romance novel you read for pleasure, they always ended in these kind of passionate and satisfying kisses. Although you didn’t think those type of scenarios were real, this was enough to make you start believing.
*✭˚·ﾟ✧*·ﾟ*✭˚·ﾟ✧*·ﾟ*
Your eyes fluttered open, surprised by the sound of the waves still crashing onto the shore and salty but gentle breeze brushing across your face. You two must have fallen asleep from how tired the night made you between the dancing and drinking, but you weren’t complaining instead smiling at the coincidence.
A few moments later, Tom would stir from his sleep. He didn’t believe how loud and close the waves were, but his eyes fluttered open to you sat up and looking out at dawn. The wedding arch still stood between the soft sand of the beach, both of you watching the glowing sunset begin its descent under the horizon.
Another cold breeze set the relaxed mood even more as you two sat there admiring the start of the morning. Tom stretched his back, both of you comfortable with the silence between you two. Feeling refreshed and happy, you turned your head to Tom and the orange light made his brown eyes shine.
“Yesterday happened, right? It wasn’t just an amazing dream I had.” Tom joked, turning to smile at you.
“Truly real. Nothing fictional about it.” You smiled.
Tom placed his hand on your cheek, cupping your skin softly before placing his lips on yours. Your smile faded as your noses brushed together, your heart fluttering as you paced your sweet kiss. It was your happy ending that no book could write.
#tom holland#tom holland fic#tom holland fics#tom holland x reader#tom holland x female!reader#tom holland angst#tom holland smut#tom holland fluff#tom holland imagine#college au#bookshop au#one shot#frat!tom#tom holland au#tshwritersnet
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Two fiancées in love
Sooo, I haven't posted anything in months, and I'm so sorry lol. I've just really not been motivated to write at all. It's like whenever Tom goes MIA I get writer's block lmao !! Anyway, here's this little blurb I wrote months ago and forgot about, it's not much but I hope you like it mwua mwua xx
Warnings: Just fluff, fluff, fluff + Tom and reader are gross (they're too in love with each other istg), I'm not a native speaker, so typos.
wc: +600
Masterlist
•••
"You know, I never thought we'd end up like this." Tom said one day, while he was brushing his teeth and you were reading in bed.
"How do you mean?"
"Like, together. Romantically." He tried to say, nearly spitting all the toothpaste foam in his mouth.
"Really?" You said, and he nodded. "That's funny." A laugh escaped your lips and Tom tilted his head.
"What – are you laughing?" He asked, still confused. Tom spit the toothpaste and washed out his mouth with water.
You just smiled, cuddling further amongst all the cushions and thinking of the early days of your friendship.
"I actually fantasized about us all the time. I was so in love with you." You confessed, and it was his turn to be surprised. "But I never did anything about it because I thought that after filming you'd stay out of touch and we'd never speak again."
"Oh, wow. Glad to see you had faith in us since the very beginning." He mused, finally making his way to the bed. As soon as he got under the covers, your limbs were entangled and he planted a kiss on your cheek "Thank God we made it."
"Yes, thank God. Or maybe thank me for keeping the spark alive while you spent months out in other countries at the very beginning of our relationship." You said with a little smirk, as he gasped dramatically.
"I beg your pardon? Who was the one that sent the other flowers every single Friday? Or the one that paid off his brother so that you could have your favorite meals everyday? Yeah, I didn't think so."
"Oh, poor Sam."
"Poor me. I spent over two thousand pounds for that twat to make you all that food."
"Wha– Two thousand!? Thomas Stanley Holland!" You gasped, hitting his arm playfully.
"Oh God, not the full name." He pretended to be scared but chuckled nonetheless.
"Why on Earth would you spend so much money?"
"I love spoiling you darling, you know that already." Tom smiled with a wink, before a happy grin was plastered on his face "Anyway… Did you know there's only two hundred and twenty-seven days left for you to be my wife?"
You giggled as you hugged him tighter, his hands on your waist as he simply stared at you, eyes filled with adoration. "Can't believe you are counting the days."
"How could I not be, my love. I am so excited for us to get married." Before you could even think of replying, he kissed your lips softly, with the same gleam in his eyes that was present the day he asked you to be his.
"I love you so very much." You whispered, him pecking your lips once more to let you know he feels just the same way.
"And, it's not the only reason, but once we get married we are actually a hundred percent free to make babies, and to be honest, I'm down for doing that without – ow!" You slapped his bicep as you shook your head with disapproval.
"Can't believe your only motive behind asking me to marry you was to get me pregnant."
"Did not say that! I emphasized the fact that it's not the only reason."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever, Holland. Just shut it already." You tapped his cheek before snuggling back on his chest.
"Aye aye Mrs. Holland."
"Not yet babe."
"Can't wait till you are."
You feel so much love for this man sometimes you wonder if you're going insane. Is it really considered medically normal to feel your heart swell as much as it does every day? You swear, there's no way you'll get tired of him.
He's your best friend, the love of your life, and everything you'll ever wish for.
•••
So this was it! Hope you liked it!
Reblogs and comments are appreciated!
•••
TAGLIST:
@marvelgurl
@crvshnburnn
#tom holland imagines#tom holland x reader#tom holland x fem!reader#tom holland fluff#tom x reader#tom fic#tom holland fics#irene is sorry
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Leave Before You Love Me
Tom Holland x Reader
Words: 3,138
HOLY FUCK AM I ACTUALLY WRITING AND POSTING AGAIN?!
(Yes. Yes, I am)
Inspired by the Jonas Brothers song. This is my first time writing anything in a year or so, so pls don’t bite me :<
----------------------------
Why did he do that?
How could he do that?
And why couldn’t he even think of stopping?
Just the thought of stopping and turning around made his foot press harder on the gas, propelling him further and further into the dawn, away from what he was running from.
It was five in the morning. While the rest of the world was just waking up to start their day, Tom felt like he’d already lived ten lives in the course of one night.
One night he wouldn’t soon forget.
…
Tom Holland gazed out at the mass of sweaty, gyrating bodies with minimal interest. The bass pumping through the massive speakers was so loud, it rattled his eardrums. He scrunched his eyes shut in discomfort, once and a while he’d wonder where his friends were but he didn’t really care right now.
Honestly, he didn’t really care about much recently. Not even how multiple girls have already sidled up to him tonight, indiscreetly pushing their boobs to his chest, asking if he was that Tom Holland whilst batting their fake eyelashes at him. He was getting pretty fed up with it really. Which didn’t make any sense.
Here he was, in the prime of his life, on top of the world. He was young, earning more than a decent living, travelling around the world, becoming friends with people he used to only see on TV. He was a fucking movie star, he sure as hell has been living like one.
It was fun at first, all the experiences, all the perks, all the ladies. Living fast and all that shit. But he was scared that the excitement of that kind of life was starting to wear off, when all that was gone, what was going to be left?
Suppose that’s why he still tagged along when his friends went to the club. For the reliable thrill that came along with the first girl of the night slipping her phone number into his hand even though he knew it wouldn’t be the same feeling when it came to the twentieth. For him to feel anything.
You, on the other hand, had been looking at him for about... Thirty minutes now? What else were you supposed to do? It was Tom fucking Holland for God’s sake. Or at least you were sure it was. You’ve never seen him like this before. His shoulders were slumped forward, kind of like he was caving into himself, desperate to disappear.
That, you could understand. You were sure it was no fun getting mobbed by fans, what more if they had zero inhibitions and smelled like two bottles of gin? What you couldn’t understand though was the look in his eyes, each time he would raise his drink to his lips, he trained his eyes forward and you could get a pretty good look at them.
How did that saying go again? Never meet your heroes? You didn’t really want to believe in that stuff but the melancholic, faraway look in Tom Holland’s eyes was a far cry from that playful sparkle you always saw in his interviews. You sat there in your own little bubble for a while, turning the thought over in your head,
Should I go over there? What if he turns out to be an absolute prick and he’s just ruined for me forever?
That argument was very compelling but so was your other one,
If I don’t go over there and at least say hi, I will regret it for the rest of my life and quite possibly beyond that.
You spared him another look, watching as he folded his arms on his table and sank his chin down to rest on them. To a normal person, someone who hadn’t been sitting by themselves for the better part of two hours, downing White Russians like it was mother’s milk, that should have been a clear sign to leave this person alone. Do not engage in meaningless small talk.
But you had just guzzled down your eighth(?) White Russian and were already going through some foolproof conversation starters in your head that you read off of some guy you sat next to on the Tube the other day. Current events, popular culture, jokes… You counted them off in your head as you unsteadily made your way towards him, towards Tom Holland.
Tom Holland who could get all the girls he could ever want, Tom Holland with the bright future of glitz and glamour ahead of him, Tom Holland who was having the time of his fucking life.
What a fucking joke.
Tom stared sullenly at his glass of whiskey, watching the amber liquid swirl with each lazy flick of his wrist.
“You must be fun at parties.”
A voice rose above the noise and stole him away from his self-deprecating inner monologue. He straightened up to look at you. Your slightly mussed up hair and lopsided grin told him that you were just as drunk as him, maybe even more.
“Oh, uh,” Tom cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair, embarrassed that someone caught him, “Heh. Yeah. Sometimes I can sit and sulk in one corner for hours before anyone notices."
You rolled your eyes and chuckled, wondering why "sarcastic comment" wasn't listed as a foolproof conversation starter.
"I don't think that's true."
He exhaled, shoulders slumping forward again, "I wish it was."
A beat of silence passed between you before you scoffed and fanned yourself like a garbage truck had just passed in front of you.
"Je-sus!" you exclaimed, fanning yourself some more, "Pity party for one, hello!"
If you weren't so incredibly drunk, you would have the sense to feel mortified for acting like such a dick in front of Tom Holland. And if Tom wasn't drunk himself, he would probably take offence and ask you to leave. Instead, he smiled and shook his head, leaning back in his seat.
"Guilty as charged." he mumbled, tracing the lip of his glass with a finger
You crossed your arms against your chest and looked at him expectantly, "Come on then."
"Sorry?"
"Oh, you will be if you and I don't get out of here right now."
His head snapped up and he stared at you, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. It was a good thing that your patience had gone along with your common sense. The next thing Tom knew, you were dragging him out of the club by the arm.
Once you two stumbled out the door, the cold air seemed to knock some sense into him, Tom realised that he had just ditched his friends, while he was designated driver.
"Oh fuck. Uh, look,"
Your raised brow advised him to choose his next words very carefully. He ran a hand through his hair, a slight panic beginning to settle in.
"Thank you for the distraction and all but I just remembered that I'm designated driver tonight and my friends-"
"Uh, Tom? I've been watching you all night and you are so not designated driver." you stepped closer to him and took a whiff, completely robbed of any concepts of social conduct
Of course he smelled like someone emptied a bottle of whiskey right on him, but underneath was the naturally clean boyish scent girls always went crazy for. You had to take a step back, your head was starting to spin from being in close proximity to him.
“Oh, fuck.” he cursed, roughly dragging his fingers through his hair
He gingerly sank down into a squat right there on the pavement, “Oh, God,” he groaned, burying his face into his hands
“Oh, God,” he groaned again, “What the hell is the matter with me?”
What exactly brought this on, you didn’t have the slightest idea but it was good that you were still more than a little drunk. You ignored his chants of “what the hell is the matter with me?” and plopped your ass down right next to him, ignoring the rough concrete scraping against your jeans.
You threw your arm around him like you’ve known him forever, rubbing his shoulder comfortingly. Tom didn’t react to the sudden contact, he was trapped in his thoughts that really had nothing to do with him blatantly shirking his designated driver duties.
On some level, you knew that. You didn’t know how your alcohol-soaked brain managed to pick up on it, but it did.
“Hey,” you squeezed his shoulder, prompting him to look at you with his red-rimmed eyes
The eye contact alone was almost enough to sober you up. But not quite.
“Look,” you slurred, “I don’t know what’s going on with you but it’ll pass! It’ll pass, Tommy H!”
Tom, equally drunk, let the tears stinging in his eyes fall down his flushed cheeks. Who the hell even was this? And why was he so comfortable crying on this stranger’s shoulder, in public?
“I know shit sucks right now and you don’t even know why it sucks but, like, it won’t always suck, y’know? Even though you think it will.” you continued to ramble on, “Just… Let it suck for a while then figure out how to not make it suck? Does… Like, does that make sense?”
The way your voice got smaller as your Dutch courage fizzled out towards the end of your speech made Tom chuckle, you could feel his chest rumble against your own.
“Yeah. Yeah that makes sense.”
He felt you tense up at the sound of his voice, all raspy from how tight his throat felt. Slowly, he straightened up and exhaled, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand. You kept your eyes on his profile as he looked straight ahead.
No one said anything for a while, you were both caught up in your own thoughts, Tom's slightly more pensive, while all you could think about was how you still had your arm loosely draped around his broad shoulders.
How long have you been sitting there with him? You had no idea but you figured it was long enough. Just as you managed to carefully lift your arm off him, he turned to you, his expression unreadable. He held your wide-eyed gaze before taking your hand, his touch was soft as his fingertips traced the lines on your palm. The unexpected tenderness swiftly kicked the air out of your lungs, your chest began to rise and fall much too rapidly to be concealed.
“Do you want to get out of here?” Tom asked you, his hand now firmly holding yours
Wordlessly, you nodded, standing up and taking him with you. “Let’s head to mine. I don’t live far from here.”
You linked arms and began walking away from the doors of the club where younger, drunker club goers were starting to take residence on the pavement you just vacated.
The night air whipped your hair behind you, dragging its icy fingers down your exposed neck. You were completely sober now and whether or not that was a good thing was still to be determined. The same was true for Tom, the longer he walked with you on his arm, the more sober he was getting. If that was a good thing, he wasn’t sure either. But nevertheless, you both kept walking, holding on to each other while navigating the bustling London streets on a Saturday night.
“I’m Tom, by the way.” he said quietly as you rounded the corner
“I know that. Did you think I didn’t?”
“I know you do. But I don’t know your name.”
“It’s Y/N.”
…
“You didn’t! You did NOT just do that, Tom!”
“Oh, I think that’s really funny because if you look at the pile over there, you’ll see that I DID just do that.”
You glowered at the colourful pile of UNO cards, zeroing in on the two +4 cards he had the audacity to throw down. If someone had told you that you would be ending the night with Tom Holland back at your flat, this was definitely not what you pictured you would be doing. Namely, playing a rousing game of UNO whilst fighting the urge to lob your mug of tea at him.
“I don't see you picking up any cards, Y/N."
“That,” you pointed at the offending cards, “is an illegal move, sir. I'm not picking up anything.”
He had to laugh out loud at that one, “Illegal move? Darling, don’t be a sore loser and pick up the damn cards.”
In any other situation, him calling you “darling,” would’ve thrown your soul right out of your body, but not tonight and certainly not during a game of UNO.
“I’m not going to, because it’s an illegal move.”
The both of you had reached an impasse. Tom was staring you down from across your coffee table, long fingers rhythmically tapping against the polished wood. As if his little intimidation tactic would work on you.
You whipped out your phone for proof, "If you won't believe me, I'm sure you'll believe the official UNO Twitter page?"
In a feat of Spider-manlike speed and reflexes, Tom was beside you in a flash, prying the phone from your hands.
"Just pick up the damn cards, woman!"
"Never!" you yelled, gripping your phone so hard your knuckles turned white
He was relentless, his long arms reaching to follow your hand as you struggled to keep the phone out of his reach. The sound of your giddy laughter travelled through your warm living room, in a last ditch effort to get him to get off you, you held your phone close to your chest, thinking he wouldn't have the gall to get that close to you.
To your surprise (and pleasure, let’s be honest here), Tom wrapped his arms around you and held you close. It was cliche as all hell, but you were convinced that the air had stilled all around you, everything stopped for that one heart pounding moment.
The dull roar of the fire crackling in your fireplace was replaced by the sound of blood rushing to your ears. You couldn't look away, you didn't even think you wanted to. All you wanted to do was to get lost in his eyes over and over again.
Tom needed to look away. He had to. The longer he pored over every single feature of your face, the more something ached inside him. Something too long gone, buried under countless nights of nameless, faceless encounters in whatever city he’d find himself in. And he just knew if he let this go on for any longer, things would go too far.
But he just couldn’t. That’s how these things usually go, isn’t it? No amount of restraint would be enough to stop him from finally pressing his lips to yours.
The sudden contact caused you to flinch just the slightest bit before the tension that had been stiffening your shoulders all night finally dissipated into thin air. Your arms easily found their way behind his neck, pulling him closer to you.
You didn’t want to delude yourself or anything but you couldn’t help but feel how perfectly your bodies fit together, how your movements were perfectly synced. As your back made contact with your shaggy rug, Tom’s hand shielded the back of your head, making sure it wouldn't hit the wooden floor as his chest pressed against yours.
The more Tom’s lips explored your neck, your chest, the more the ache inside him started to build, too strong to go unnoticed. His warm hands were firm on your waist, slowly but surely inching your top upwards, the desire to feel your bare skin against his almost eclipsing every other thought in his head.
“Tom…” you whispered just below his jaw, tracing the sharp line with the tip of your tongue
As his dark eyes met yours, something inside you knew that a part of him was somewhere else. You didn’t have all of him that night but you were selfish enough to think that it didn’t matter. Before you could stop yourself, the words were already out of your mouth and Tom was not in a position to turn you down.
“Bedroom. Now.”
…
The next morning, you woke up slowly, which is exactly what you expected from the night you just had. You stretched your arms above your head, relishing the dull pain that settled in various parts of your tired body, remembering exactly what transpired to cause it.
A contented sigh escaped your lips as you turned to your side, expecting the morning sun to pry your lids open but it didn’t.
“He must have closed the curtains.” you thought to yourself
Him. Just the thought of him made you feel warm inside. It was stupid, feeling so ooey gooey about last night’s activities but you couldn’t push away the thought that you had really connected. Every drunken word you had said to one another, every look exchanged, laughter shared, all of it just felt… Right.
A small smile came unbidden onto your face and you finally opened your eyes to your dimly lit room, your earlier suspicions confirmed as the sunshine was blocked out by your curtains. Before you could even appreciate the way the muted sunlight prettily painted your room in a whole other colour, you noticed that the space next to you was empty.
You felt at the undisturbed sheets. Cold, you noted. Like they haven’t been slept in at all. But they were slept in, Tom held you as you both drifted off to sleep, you had your head on his chest as it rose and fell. His heavy breathing lulling you off to dreamland.
Suddenly you felt colder than the underside of your pillow.
Further inspection of your room confirmed what you were starting to realise. The clothes that were haphazardly strewn along the floor were gone, yours were neatly folded on your desk, the other set nowhere to be seen.
You chuckled bitterly at the sight of your folded clothes. He found the decency to tidy up but not to say goodbye?
“Fuck.” you breathed, dropping your head into your hands
Your cheeks suddenly flushed red recalling your earlier thoughts. “So much for right.” you scoffed at yourself, getting out of bed and roughly putting on anything you could find
“Looks like he cleaned up in here too!” you exclaimed to no one in particular, seeing the throw pillows that were on the floor last night now arranged on your couch.
The UNO cards you two were playing with were tucked back in its box on your coffee table, propped up on it were your Post-Its which definitely weren’t there the night before. You snatched it up, short-lived relief flooding your body.
I’m sorry.
--------------------------
Very rusty at the whole writing thing! Let me know how I did. Replies, reblogs, and likes are most welcome <3
#tom holland#tom holland x reader#tom holland imagine#tom holland fanfic#tom holland fics#tom holland fanfiction#tom holland fic#tom holland x you#tom holland x y/n
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𝗽𝘂𝘁 𝗶𝘁 𝗼𝗻 𝗺𝘆 𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗱 - 𝗽𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗿
𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: peter and you argue because he loves to spend all of his money on you.
𝘄/𝗰: 0.5k
𝗮/𝗻: sorry for disappearing for a few months… again 😭 i am slowly getting back into writing so please bear with me! i saw my last fic reached over 9000 notes so that really motivated me to write something else for you guys ♡ i’m not so sure how i feel about this but i really do see peter as the type of boyfriend to blow all of his paycheck on you so i just had to write this LOL anyways i hope you all enjoy this!!
“put it on my card” you suddenly hear peter say as he pulled your earphones out, causing you to jump.
you were trying to keep yourself awake while waiting for peter to come through your window after patrolling for the night. to keep yourself occupied, you decided to listen to music and do some online shopping (which consisted of you just putting things in your cart but never actually buying anything). with your back facing your window and your earphones in, you didn’t see or hear peter come inside.
“jesus christ peter, don’t sneak up on me like that!”
“yeah yeah whatever” he says not really caring that he nearly scared the life out of you. “as i was saying before you rudely snapped at me, put your order on my card”
“i literally have over $400 worth of clothes in my cart”
“and?”
“what do you mean and? that’s expensive”
“your point?”
“that’s more than half of your paycheck”
“doesn’t matter. the whole reason why i have a job is to spoil you” he says while taking off his suit and getting comfortable in your bed.
“aww pete, you’re too sweet. but still, no. i don’t want you spending that much money on me”
he hummed an okay which led you to believe he was gonna just drop the conversation.
you were so wrong.
before you know it, he’s shooting a web at your laptop and dragging it over to him.
“NOOOO!” you scream dramatically and tackle him on your bed before he can type in his card information.
“LET ME BUY YOU CLOTHES!” he screams back while trying to push you off of him so he can grab your laptop again.
you quickly snatched your laptop from the bed and ran out of your room as fast as you could.
“GET BACK HERE!” peter shouted while chasing after you to which you just ignored and kept running away.
“you know what, you leave me no choice” he abruptly stops chasing you which causes you to stop in confusion.
suddenly, he jumped and stuck to your roof with his webs, and webbed your laptop over to him. you literally had no way of getting to him now.
“that’s no fair, you’re cheating!” you whined.
he laughed at you standing helplessly below him and finally placed your $450 order on his card.
“here you go” he smiled and jumped down from the roof, handing your laptop back over to you.
before you were about to scold him for spending so much money on you, you heard a knock at your door.
you and peter both looked at each other confused because you weren’t expecting anybody for the night. he walked to the door and opened, revealing the people you were least expecting.
the police.
“hello, we were called over here for a noise complaint. your neighbors reported screaming being heard from your apartment room and they were concerned. is everything alright?”
you did not expect to end your night by explaining to the police that you and your boyfriend were screaming over buying clothes.
#peter parker x reader#peter parker blurbs#peter parker fluff#peter parker angst#peter parker smut#tom holland x reader#tom holland#tom holland fluff#peter parker#tom holland angst#peter parker imagine#peter parker fic#spiderman x reader#spiderman fluff#spiderman angst#spiderman smut#spiderman#marvel#spiderman blurbs#tom holland smut
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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!
#peter parker#spiderman#peter parker x reader#tony stark daughter#peter parker x you#peter parker x y/n#spiderman x stark!reader#peter parker fic#peter parker angst#spiderman x reader#spiderman imagine#peter parker smut#spiderman angst#peter parker x stark!reader#peter parker fluff#peter parker blurb#peter parker one shot#tom holland peter parker#spiderman fanfiction#spiderman x you#spiderman smut
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pairing: bestfriend!peter parker x fem!reader
sypnosis: after peter misses his chance to ask you out to the homecoming dance, he has to suffer the consequences of his own actions
wc: 1200+
a/n: hiii!! i have the urge to write again bc im bored and i dont wanna do my summer course work. this prompt is based on this post and loosely based on that one scene in the movie ladybird when she gets picked up by her date. i wrote this super quickly so not the best but i hope u enjoy :)
peter had it first. he had the idea, the flowers, the poster, your favorite chocolate strawberries all ready for you. until brad davis came in and stole everything.
now he has nothing. he’s on your bed munching on the melty strawberries as he watches you get ready for the dance; you’ve asked for his help in choosing which dress you should go for.
“okay how ‘bout this one, pete?” the boy glances up at you, mid-chew with his mouth open.
his eyes snake over the outfit you’ve chosen. you do a swift twirl to show off the pretty soft blue satin dress that falls down to your mid-thigh with an open back. the skirt of your dress rides a bit high revealing a little too much. peter gulps, running his hands down his legs, immediately your sweet honey perfume floods his senses, his brain feels a little fuzzy, and he thinks the room gets smaller while his pants get a tiny bit tighter.
however, your eyes are what he takes in the most. you look eager, nervous about his approval, and hopeful for his admission.
his eyes widen as he gives you a soft nod and a pursed smile, “super pretty.”
you stare back at peter, his hair is flared, and you see chocolate smeared on his bottom lip. his posture looks defeated and you can’t help but wonder what’s wrong with him.
you give him a sour yet confused face, “why is your face like that?”
peter’s eyebrows furrow at your expression, “my face- why is my face like what?”
“like…” you take a moment to think, “like- you look like that chef in that one movie with the rat, he’s got that same awkward funny looking face.”
peter barks out a laugh in disbelief, “alfredo linguini?? from ratatouille?!” “yea! that guy.”
the boy in front of you offers you a pout and rubs his eyes, “thanks.”
“sure thing.” peter glazes over your seamless makeup when you take a seat next to him, “so, you’re really not coming? why not? it’ll be fun, plus all of our friends are going” you whine.
peter kicks himself every day since you got asked out to homecoming by brad. he knows he should have made his proposal to you sooner, but now that he missed his chance, he feels like he’s lost you.
“oh, so brad’s our friend now? and nah, it’s alright. i’m just gonna go patrolling tonight, might get some good action.” his eyebrows suggestively
you muster up a smirk and breathe out a laugh, “right. maybe you’ll find your own ‘cupid of crime’ that’ll show you a good time.”
peter groans at you, “oh my god, margot robbie is so-”
honk!
“oh,” your ears perk up at the sudden interruption, “i guess that’s my date.” you quickly stand up and straighten your dress, taking nervous breaths.
“i’m good right? my dress? face? hair?” your fingers run through your shiny locks, “its- i’m, i’m okay?”
peter has an indiscernible look plastered on his face as he gazes out the window and back at you. he’s shocked you’d settle for this, and even more appalled at you’re excitement to go with a douchebag who can’t even meet you at the front door. he knows you deserve better than this, and he knows he would treat you so much better with much less than your date. his stomach turns upside down and he feels his face get hot, breathing through his nostrils as he struggles to control his disbelief. he slowly stands up and meets your anxious expression peering up at him.
“you aren’t gonna get in a car with a guy who honks, are you?”
it’s almost as if the entire atmosphere shifts. peter studies your appearance. your face shimmered sanguinely regardless, brighter than the glitter that sparkled atop your eyelids.
it was safe to say you were excited to go to the dance, even if your date wasn’t your first choice. you had been waiting endlessly for peter to ask you to homecoming. you were almost depressed at the thought thinking your crush didn’t like you back, but even more upset at the fact that your best friend didn’t even want to take you as his date, romantically or not.
you remembered the feeling of delight swirling through your body as betty gushed about ned asking her to the dance, and mj agreeing to harry’s proposal.
you only wanted the same for yourself. the same thrill and warm feeling of someone wanting to take you as their date. you wanted more than anything for it to be peter, but you figured he simply didn’t think of you like that as empty time and hopeless anticipation went by. so yes, you did settle for brad davis. he’s only ever been sweet to you, with harmless flirting and sultry smiles in the halls. plus you had a hunch about peter’s displeasing stance on the man, and presumed this may have tipped peter over just the right amount.
you simply blink at his desperate eyes and nod, your adamant expression not wavering, “i think, yes, i am.”
you offer him a wistful smile when you brush past him, grabbing your purse on the way.
“y/n, stop.” peter’s finger’s wrap around your small wrist, your charm bracelet dangling against his hand.
“are you serious? what, the shithead can’t walk a few feet and knock on the door like a real man?”
“peter!” you snatch your wrist back and his hands rise.
you feel heat rushing up your neck and settling behind your ears. you had wanted a reaction out of peter when brad asked you out, yes, but the entitlement he has to mention about the manhood of brad angered you.
“i’m just saying,” he steps back from you, licking his dry lips while he chuckles back at you. “a guy who doesn’t have the balls to greet you at your doorstep isn’t worth falling for.”
you scoff at him, he was so sweet and now he’s only taking his anger out on you. “well it’s a good thing that he’s just a friend then. what’s it to you anyways?”
peter disregards your last statement, “a friend?! y/n/n, listen to me. you’re being naive if you think he just wants to be your friend.”
another honk outside pierces your ears, yet you can’t seem to shake your stare on the boy before you. you narrow your eyes at him.
“you sound jealous.”
peter sputters nonsense out and breaks his eyesight away from you, nervously running his hands through his curls.
“jealous? me? pfft. never. i’m not jealous, i’m- i’m being absolutely reasonable.”
you keep your eyes on him as he looks down at the carpet floor. he sighs and drops down at your chair, scratching the wood on your desk. his head shakes and ever so softly murmurs, “seriously, why are you going out with him?”
peter continues to stare at the rotten wood he’s chipping, “brad asked me to be his date, so i’m going whether you like it or not. unless,” peter glances back up at you.
“there’s something you’re not telling me.”
hope bubbles down in your stomach, and you anticipate his confession, waiting to hear the words of his true feelings that you know for certain are deep down inside him.
except, he doesn’t.
the boy only blankly stares at your desk, clenching his jaw, and drowns everything inside, letting you down yet another time. you turn away, disappointed in peter, ready to leave him alone for all the false hope and hurt he has caused you.
“right, well, when your balls finally drop, let me know. i’ll be at the dance with my date.”
#m's clubhouse! 🎧#m writes ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･#gif creds: @watson-emma#peter parker#peter parker x y/n#mcu!peter x reader#peter parker fluff#peter parker imagine#tom!peter parker x reader#peter parker x reader#peter x reader#peter parker x you#peter parker fanfiction#spiderman x reader#spider-man#peter parker smut#peter parker blurb#peter parker oneshot#peter parker fic#tom holland#tom holland x reader#tom holland smut#tom holland peter parker#peter parker angst#peter parker writing#homecoming#marvel
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Hiii! Can I request sub!peter waking u up in the middle of the night very needy? Tnks :)))
Pairing: Sub! Peter Parker x f!reader
warnings: sub! peter, unprotected p in v sex, lots of pet names for spidey, premature ejaculation (kinda), creampie, talk about oral sex (m receiving)
a/n: aaaaa i love sub peter soo much thank you love
At first, you thought it was morning already, you thought the needy kisses on your bare back and his hips grinding onto your ass were nothing more than what it was more mornings than not: the usual way Peter woke you up.
But once you opened up your eyes, once the darkness got the better of your sight, once you watched as no sun shined through the windows, then you realized your mistake
"Baby" you croaked, taking your time turning your head back to him, sleep still fighting to keep you close
"I'm sorry" he mumbled, his lips still busy with your shoulders "I know it's late- I just-I"
His hazel eyes were on you, lust and need fogging them deeply, and his hips hadn't yet stilled, he was grinding his hard cock against your ass like you hadn't just taken care of him a few hours earlier, like a man starved.
"I think I know what the problem is" a soft smirk played on your lips as you finally turned to him
Sleep could wait a few more minutes, you decided, you were never able to resist him when he looked so damn desperate.
"I can feel it" you murmured sultry, his eyes stapled to yours while his hands followed each movement you made, not wanting to lose contact with your skin even for a second.
"what do you need baby?" you spoke once you were before him
"I-I just- I need-"
But your hand had found the bulge in his boxers, and words stopped existing altoughether in Peter's brain
"You need me to take care of you?" you teased, your fingers seeping underneath the waistband.
You swore he was holding his breath.
"'s that it baby?" you murmured, now ghosting his lips "need me to help you out a little, mh?"
The sound- oh the sound he made when your hands found his manhood, when you conceded him just the tinies stroke... oh you could have lived on that sound alone.
"yes" he gulped "p-please I need- I-"
Peter had never been good with words around you so you took his cock out, feeling him twitch in your hand
"I-inside" was all he could whimper "p-please"
You chuckled softly, but still, you did as he wished, draping your leg over him and sliding your panties to the side
"what's got you so worked up honey?" you asked, purring gently against his mouth
"I- I had a dream"
You smiled knowingly as you guided him to your entrance.
"dirty boy" you smirked as he slowly entered you, whimpering and moaning as he shut his eyes
"s-shit- y/n-" he cried, once he was filling you all up "g-god"
"I know" you cooed, stroking the back of his head as he started thrusting sloppily in and out of you "I know baby"
His left hand was pulling down your tank top to get to your boobs, and he let out a desperate moan once he was finally able to have one of your tits in his palm.
"so what was the dream about?" you murmured, fighting your own moans.
His cheeks changed colors, red now adorning them.
"I-"
"no need to be shy now baby" you smiled, feeling his cock hit that spot deep inside you once again
"It was about- y-you"
You grinned widely at that
"'s that so?"
"mh-mh" he nodded, eager to please you
“What about me?” You asked, your fingers playing with his hair just how he liked it
You saw his Adam's apple bob up and down as he swallowed thickly,
"y-you were" he sighed, burying his cock inside up to the hilt "You were g-going down on me" he stuttered, the pleasure he was already lost in only heightening as images from his dream crossed his mind
He whimpered as you clenched around him
"I was sucking your cock?" you taunted, making a soft fuck flee his mouth
"y-yes"
"mh" you smirked, biting your lip "I do really like that" you murmured, mouth to his ear now "I love sucking your cock so much baby"
A choked sound escaped him, and you could only chuckle as you kissed him right below his ear
"gonna remember that when I'm gonna wake you up this morning" you hummed
"y-y/n- f-fuck" he groaned, his thrusts even sloppier now, barely anything more than frantic desperate movements "p-please" he begged "I-I'm not gonna last if y-you"
But you didn't care, you never cared when it was like this, when it was only about him.
"don't wait for me"
"b-but"
"don't worry about me" you whispered, leaving a soft peck on his lips "just be a good boy and cum inside me baby"
Another moan mixed with a whimper and a twitch of his cock was his response
"can you do that for me honey?" you murmured, "can you come deep inside me?"
He was so close it was a miracle he still hadn't come.
His moans were breathless, all resembling your name or various curses, but still, he managed to say
"yes- yes, I ca-"
before he was painting your insides with his seed a moment later.
Your moans mixed with his at the feeling, and his head fell between your shoulder and neck as he cried out your name, his hips working hard to make sure every drop of him was inside you.
You continued drawing gentle patterns in his hair as he regained consciousness and caught his breath.
"thank you" was all he said once he finally raised his head to look at you
You smiled softly
"you don't need to thank me baby" you gave him a quick kiss, his hand going to your waist.
"I- I need to clean you up" he remembered, but you shook your head
"we'll think about that tomorrow, let's go back to sleep now, mh?" you suggested, and by the look of it, he was more than eager to agree.
"mh-mh" he nodded, as he scooted closer to you, his hands around you and your legs around him.
"g'night baby" you siad
"night" he mumbled, already half asleep
But as you both closed your eyes, and you started to get back into sleep's sweet embrace, you couldn't help but chuckle, as, a few moments later, you felt Peter's face nestle right between your breasts, which had apparently been chosen as his pillow for the night
"I love you" was all he was able to mumble, not even giving you time to respond before he was already dead asleep.
"I love you too honey" you said nonetheless, Peter's long breaths filling the darkness as you joined him in his sleep.
#peter parker#peter parker x reader#peter parker smut#peter parker imagine#sub peter parker#sub!peter parker#peter parker x y/n#peter parker x you#sub!peter parker x reader#peter parker fic#tom holland#peter parker x fem!reader#peter parker fanfiction#peter parker fanfic#spiderman x y/n#peter parker x f!reader#spiderman x reader#spiderman fanfiction#spiderman smut#spiderman#dom peter parker#spiderman no way home#spiderman far from home#spiderman homecoming#avengers
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naked
DATE: JANUARY 8, 2023
summary: nathan drake was a tease to say the least. you couldn’t focus on work or chores with his constant sex appeal surrounding you. but a completely naked and nonchalant nathan drake, was an even bigger one.
request: please read the request as an additional summary!
words: 3.2k
warnings: SMUT (implied consent, praise kink, playful spanking and exhibitionism if you squint, dirty talk [slight degradation kink], kind of breeding kink, and unprotected sex) language, and very fluffy at the end :)
note: first nathan fic… this was supposed to be just smut, but i made the ending really fluffy and cute 😌 (the amount of times i’ve watched this gif is unholy)
—
Nathan Drake would be the death of you.
He was charming, with a hint of cockiness to always keep you on your toes. His smile lit up every room he waltzed in, which you hated to admit made your heart flutter.
During the many dangerous attempts at trying to find the forbidden gold, you two really connected. For the first few missions, you were always on high-alert as your trust balanced on a fine line. He could’ve ditched you at any minute and left you stranded to fend for yourself. But Nathan wasn’t like that. He stuck by your side and saved your life more than you could ever thank him enough for.
Yes, he’s lied and undergone deception, but it was all for the greater good. You were his greater good. If he never finds the gold, he knows that he hit the jackpot with you. Even if you didn’t know it.
Taking that next step in your relationship was the best idea you both have ever had. You loved Nathan for all that he was— except for one thing; a teaser. Nathan Drake was the biggest teaser ever.
A shirtless Nate strides around arrogantly nearly every day, making you swallow thickly when you gaze at his body a little too long. Sometimes, he’ll flex on purpose while you’re trying to focus on work. Or he’ll be handsy while doing day-to-day chores.
Nate loved that he had such a grasp on you. Today, he used that to his advantage.
He steps out of the steaming shower, barely dried with a towel around his waist. He doesn’t try to secure it as he walks out into the lounge area where you’re reading on the couch with a mug in hand.
You take a glimpse at him when he comes into frame and nearly choke on your coffee. You’ve seen his body countless times, but the sight will never fail to amaze you. Water droplets drip over his chiseled abs, sinking down his V-line and absorbing in his towel. He licks his bottom lip in amusement at your stare, waltzing past you and into the kitchen.
You roll your eyes and resume back to your reading that was nowhere near as interesting as Nathan’s body. You bet you could study an entire course about his structure, and you would excel with an A+. But that would be cheating because you knew his body like the back of your hand.
You knew that he loved to have his back scratched, nails digging into his skin until crescent moon marks appeared. He loved when you moaned his name, specifically screaming it. And Nathan loved when you fawned over his body. His body full of muscle was a temple you worshiped when he had his way with you. You loved praising him because everything you said was true.
Your mind flashes back to last night and all the previous nights where he fucked you into oblivion. You wished it was always that easy to have sex with him, but he always had to make it difficult to get what you wanted.
Typical Nathan.
Once your coffee jolts your system awake, you decide to do a bit of cleaning to get your mind out of the gutter. You call Nathan over to help you with the dishwasher, hoping he’s clothed. When he comes back into the kitchen, however, he’s still not dressed, even though it’s been hours since he took a shower. Actually, he’s less dressed than earlier. He’s wearing nothing but his birthday suit when he smiles at you softly, charm and fake-innocence floating around him.
Bastard.
You try not to avert your eyes down to his prominent member, knowing it will inflate his already massive ego if you stutter your words.
“I need you to help me with the dishes,” You state curtly, jaw slacking while you glare directly into his brown orbs. They’re filled with mischief and lust, positive he’s at least semi-hard. “You wash.”
“Of course, sweetheart,” Nathan’s cheeks crinkle into a toothy smile, walking over to you. His hands cradle your face before he gives you a tender kiss on your forehead. Your clit throbs in time with the rapid beating of your heart. Arousal drips subtly from your cunt and into your panties.
He knows how much you love forehead kisses. God damn him.
He gets started on the dishes, handing you the cleaned items quickly. You bend down to slot them into their places in the washer, falling behind his quick pace. Once he finishes, he smirks at your position; bent over and vulnerable in a thin pair of cotton shorts. His cock pulsates at the view of your curves as you focus on the task in front of you. It was almost too easy.
“Need help, baby?” Nathan’s hands slide over your waist as his body hovers behind you. You inhale sharply at the feeling of him so close to you, causing you to freeze in place. He drags his palms to your hips, caressing the clothed skin teasingly. His thumbs are rubbing the top of your ass, wishing he would spread you open already. You bit your tongue before deciding that you can play this game too.
“I’m good,” After slotting a plate, you raise up and grab another. You purposely lean back into him, causing your ass to grind against his bare cock. Nathan is thick and solid, at his full size now that he’s fully hard. You try not to be affected by the tiny touch. He quietly hisses under his breath and you smirk as you move yourself in triumph. His fingers never leave your hips.
“You’re paying for that,” He squeezes your supple curves warningly and then lightly slaps your ass before waltzing away. You gasp, nearly dropping the plate. The dishes are disorganized and dislocated when you finish, too distracted by the Greek God strolling around the house.
—
Nathan didn’t stop there. He continued to help with house chores while being completely naked. He got handsy and he teased you to the brim. If you tried to reach for something up high, he would lift you by your hips and then slide his hands up your body when bringing you down. His minimal actions made you weak, but left you wanting more every time he walked away.
You took a deep breath before joining your zoom meeting. Even when Nathan was intervening in your thoughts, you still had work to do.
Nathan glances at your crinkled eyebrows as you concentrate on your computer screen. A monotone voice gives instructions while you nod along to his words. Nate loved watching you work. Your hard working ethic, determination, and intelligence were some of his favorite qualities about you. The head of his cock ticks when you bite your lip subconsciously in solid focus.
It was also one of his turn-ons.
He strides over to you as you type swiftly on your keyboard. When you notice him, you roll your eyes at his nude appearance, continuing to type away. He sits beside you, glaring.
“What do you want, Nate?” You ask through clenched teeth. You can’t help but peer down at his struggling member, rosy head with dabbles of pre-cum leaking from it. If he wasn’t such a tease, you would get on your knees and suck him dry.
“Nothing. You know, I love watching you work. You look so sophisticated and smart,” Nathan compliments as his hand wanders toward your thighs. He massages them, your breath getting caught in your throat. Nate knew you loved being complimented, but especially when it had to do with your intelligence. He is ticking every box today.
He slides his fingers up until they’re touching your aching, clothed cunt. Your clit pulses sporadically, legs tensing when his fingers brush over it.
“What’s the matter, baby?” Nathan taunts with a devilish smile. Nate’s thumb pets your clit through your shorts, making you moan softly. You disregard your zoom meeting, your camera and microphone already off. Spreading your legs wider, he doesn’t speed up or stop, continuing to torture you by giving you little to nothing. “Are you all wet?”
You answer in a shuddery moan, focusing on the small touch. You’ve been so horny all day, even this is getting you off. Fists balling on the keyboard, his fingers brush the folds of your cunt, still covered by your shorts and panties. You gasp when he presses two fingers where your hole is as you clench around nothing but your own walls. Sliding your shorts down, he reveals your soaked panties, tsking at the sight. He yanks them down and off your legs. Being the dirty man he is, Nathan spits into his hand and wraps the fabric around his cock, stroking deliberately. Your own hand shoots straight to your clit and fondles it, desperate to be touched by him.
“Y/N, are you there? The meeting is over,” Your boss informs with a clipped tone. Your eyes drift to the forgotten screen, widening when you remember you’re still in the call.
“Don’t stop,” Nate demands through gritted teeth, powerful eyes piercing yours. Trembling, you continue to rub your clit as you unmute yourself.
“Y-yeah. Sorry, goodbye now,” You sputter out before slamming the laptop closed. Nathan groans while stroking his cock with your wet panties, making you clench around nothing.
“Rubbing yourself while working. Naughty girl,” Nathan tsks, dropping the underwear and lifting you up with a smirk. You both stand face to face with each other, aroused and desperate, yet neither will beg for it.
Caressing your face with his rough hands, Nathan pulls you in for a kiss. His tongue roams your mouth and his lips ignite a fire through your body. Your hands lock on his hips and squeeze his ass teasingly. He growls in your mouth, almost biting your tongue. Your fingers crawl up the nape of his neck, tugging at the short hair. Grunting, he slaps your ass playfully in return before breaking the kiss. You lift up your tank top and toss it across the room, abandoning it. He spins you around and bends you over so your rear is right against his front. You catch yourself with your hands planted on the ground, feet steadying you.
His bare length slots between your cheeks, soaked in your arousal. Nathan rocks back and forth without sliding in, so you push back against him in a silent plea.
“Fucking drenched,” He hisses, grabbing a handful of your soft skin until he’s holding your hips sturdy. “Didn’t know you were such a whore.”
“You’ve been—fuck— teasing me all day,” You moan as he ruts his cock against your fluttering folds. “Walking around naked? Who does that?”
“That’s not a nice way to talk to the person who’s determining if you’re coming tonight,” Nathan slaps your ass a little harsher this time, making you yelp and grind against him harder.
“Nate, please just fuck me already,” You plead as the blood begins to rush to your head.
“That’s more like it,” He spreads your cheeks and slams into you. Your arms almost collapse under the pressure, too weak for his brutal thrusts. His balls slap against your ass while he pounds mercilessly deeper and harder.
Rough, calloused hands grip your hips, forcing you to take all of his length. You can feel the ridges of his cock in your cunt as he hits new angles you’ve never experienced before. Wails and moans echo throughout the house as your limbs tremble with pleasure. Your vision becomes starry and your head starts to pound from being practically upside down. When the weakness of your arms causes you to crumble beneath your weight, Nathan sweeps you up before you could fall.
The blood rush melts away as his face comes into clear view. With ease, he rests you on the dining table near your forgotten laptop. His muscles bulk and flex with intensity as sweat begins to form on his skin. His chiseled core contracts with each impel, making you wetter and wetter. He thrusts back into you without warning, causing you to shriek.
“God, you’re so hot,” You whimper while squeezing his thick biceps, nails stabbing his flesh. Gutturally moaning, he seizes more brutal ruts into you, making your eyes roll back. He leans down to mark up your neck in tattooed kisses.
“What about me is so hot?” Nathan huffs mockingly into your neck, his warm and gravelly voice melting you entirely. He loved being praised, and seeing him so affected only spurred you to do it more.
“Y-your muscles. You’re so strong,” Pathetic moans pepper out of your throat, dry and squeaky from screaming. He growls, plunging savagely rough into your cunt at the compliment. Arousal surrounds his cock when you clench snuggly around him, milking him deliciously.
“Such a dirty girl. My dirty girl,” Nathan grunts while your breathing heaves. “Come now.”
Your pussy tightens around his length, unable to control the rapid bliss that hits you hard the second he permits. Your jaw drops in ecstasy, eyes screwed shut in undeniable pleasure.
“Look at me. Wanna see your gorgeous face.”
You attempt to open your eyes as your orgasm releases from you in silent cries. Core contracting and nails scratching, your back aches into his torso while he nibbles into your neck. White liquid pours out, legs shaking as you fall from the high. His pace slows as you feel the twitch of his cock inside your walls.
“Come in me. Please, baby,” Your croaked voice pleads him to the finish line.
“Mm, need me to fill you up? Need to be nice and full of my cum?” His hands spread your legs wider, rutting deep and slow into you when you moan in affirmation. His shaft spasms and his balls tense before he releases ropes of cum into your cunt. You whimper at the sensation, closing your eyes in euphoria. He pulls in and out, pushing all of his sperm far inside to make sure it’s all tucked in.
Nathan stares up at you as your hands slide up to his neck. A weary, blissed-out smile reflects on both of your faces as you lean in for a kiss. Your teeth clink from uncontrollable, cheeky smiles and your fingers intertwine in his chestnut hair.
“You were a bit of a tease today,” You bit your lip, pulling away, but keeping him close enough where you can feel his warm, heaving breath on your skin.
“You love it though,” An inviting smirk danced on his lips while a tinge of pink decorated his cheeks. He lowers his forehead to rest on yours, noses brushing cutely.
“Sadly, I do, Nathan Drake,” You hold back a goofy grin. “Sadly, I do.”
“Well, I hope you don’t say it like that at the wedding,” He chuckles and you gasp, swatting his chest playfully. You don’t want to act so surprised, but your eyes are shot wide.
“Do not mention wedding stuff! It’s only been… seven months!” With a pointed finger to his buff chest, he laughs it off with his hands raised defensively.
“But you’ve known me for ten!”
You were one hundred percent serious when you said you loved Nathan, you really did. But you never thought about a commitment until him. Not a serious one, that is. Although you two had a rocky start, he changed how you viewed the concept of relationships entirely. Your guard was constantly up, a barrier you created over the course of your life after being disappointed again and again. Nathan and you traveled various distances and battled challenges most people in their life will never face.
But he showed you that it was okay to live and to love because the risk of the fall doesn’t always end badly.
It wasn’t even directed toward you, just typical Nate inspiration, but that was a key quote you will forever remember. It was from your second (failed) mission together, when you were ‘stranded’ and waiting for Sully to ‘rescue’ you both (he just needed to bring the boat around). He opened up to you, like it was second nature to him. You envied how easy it seemed to pour your heart into a stranger who could possibly abandon you. But Nathan always had faith. And maybe his faith in you was right.
Maybe Nathan was the one who you’d say I do to.
You didn’t doubt him. You doubted you.
“I wouldn’t say it like that,” You whisper against his swollen lips, face blank with a million thoughts soaring behind your eyes.
“What?” His forehead crinkles in mild confusion while his hand caresses your jaw delicately. Curiosity and a hint of hope float within his irises, but it could just be your imagination.
“I would… be happy to say I do. I wouldn’t hesitate to say it. Well, I might, but only because I’d be nervous,” You heart thudded against your ribs and your palms began to feel clammy. You laugh awkwardly, anxiety infecting your body. “Why am I nervous now? I’m just imagining it— and now I’m rambling about nothing—”
“It’s not nothing, Y/N. I’ve imagined it, too,” Nate reassures with soft touches on your cheek, smoothing your hair over. “I pictured you in a long, white dress with an open back. Long, laced sleeves because I know you’d find that classic and elegant. You wouldn’t have a long train because you wouldn’t want to trip over it. I imagined that day to feel greater than any gold.”
Water glossed over your eyes as you fought back tears until you were swallowing thickly. You hadn’t expected him to have it all planned out. But again, Nathan always plans ahead. He’s always two steps in front of the average person. Another thing you loved about him.
You envisioned his description, finding only near-perfection in the way he thinks.
“Are you joking? Because I will find some creative ways to kill you—”
“I’ve never been more serious. Y/N, I knew from the first day we met that we had something. Whether we were partners, best friends, or dating, we were meant to be together. Don’t you think?” Both of his thumbs rub gentle circles across your supple cheeks, warm from the immense love circulated around you.
“I didn’t at first. Not like you did,” You smiled, remembering the awkward first encounter when Sully introduced you both. You were young and mischievous, and Nathan was also young, but also very trusting, which challenged your judgment. You didn’t even know of his existence a year ago, but ten months later and you feel like you’ve known him a lifetime. That’s got to count for something, right? “but now I understand that you’re right. We were destined to meet— Did you hear what I just said? Your sappy shit is influencing me!”
His beautiful, hearty laughter breaks the tension and pulls at your heartstrings when his skin crinkles to adjust to his expression.
“But you love me and my sappy shit, right?” He pecks your forehead, making you melt into a puddle right in the palm of his hand.
“Sadly, I do, Nathan Drake. Sadly, I do.”
—
hot??? cute??? hopefully :D
#shawnxstyles#tom holland smut#nathan drake smut#tom holland#nathan drake#uncharted#tom holland fics#tom holland fan fics#nathan drake fic#nathan drake fan fics#nathan drake x you#nathan drake x reader#tom holland x you#tom holland x reader
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perfect - t.holland
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requested: y- “Could you do reader and Tom or Harry with newborn !!”
pairings: dad!tom holland x mom!reader
warnings: fluff + child has been given a name
a/n: I hope I did this justice 🫡 I’m not very good with writing newborns!
you can’t figure out what you’re more obsessed with: her rolls, feet, or the fact that she looks exactly like Tom.
you haven’t been able to move from the crib. you should be asleep, but your eyes are glued to the crib where your newborn daughter, Emma, lays asleep.
you know Tom will come in any second. he’ll be concerned why you’re not in bed or pumping. he’ll ask if something’s wrong with Emma or with you. he’ll ask a series of questions you’ve heard on record since you came home from the hospital, but you don’t mind them. he’s concerned for his two loved ones.
“everything alright?” there it is. you sigh, taking a look at him for a brief second before looking back at her. she hasn’t moved, yet every rise and fall of her chest makes your heart swell.
“I just can’t decide which part I love more of her.” you carefully tap your finger against the wooden edge of the crib.
Tom exhales quite happily, it’s nothing serious to be worried about. he carefully steps into the room, his hand rests against your lower back, “why don’t you go sleep? we can worry about what we love most once we’ve rested.”
you shake your head. there’s tears welling your eyes, you know this is just hormones— or maybe you’re just so in love you can’t move from her crib.
“I just want to stay here forever.”
“we’ll have plenty of time to stay in here forever. we need some sleep.” he assures you, his palm running over your dirty hair. you can’t remember the last time you’d showered coming to think of it.
“you’re right, I’m being ridiculous.” you nod along with him finally moving from the crib. the emotions had dried allowing the exhaustion to finally settle in your body. Tom promises to take the first shift after napping and you don’t argue, just settle into the mattress.
“and you’re not ridiculous. however, I think her rolls are quite adorable.”
—
three hours.
you’d been asleep for three hours and didn’t even hear a single noise from emma or Tom. you assumed he would need your help at some point, but having not heard anything from either of them. you could trust he had it all under control.
you slowly rise out of bed and exit the bedroom, you see Tom in your living room rocking chair. he’s got a bottle in one hand, and her cradled in his other arm. she looks quite cozy and content with him.
“you’re awake.” he looks up from her with a frown. his plans were to let you sleep as long as you needed, but he knew you couldn’t leave her alone for too long without checking on her. the silence was always scary to hear.
“I know.”
“she’s been sleeping this whole time. you can go back to bed if you’d like?” he recommends rather than offering. you know the suggestion is what you should take, but you can’t get yourself to move from where you’re standing. your eyes glued to her once again.
“it’s everything. that’s what I love about her.” you say finally taking your eyes off of your sleeping newborn to look Tom in the eyes.
he nods in agreement looking back down at her in his arms, “she’s perfect.”
#tom holland x oc#tom holland fanfiction#tom holland x you#tom holland#tom holland x fem#tom holland fic#tom holland fluff#tom holland imagines#tom holland imagine#tom holland x y/n#tom holland x reader#tom holland x pregnant!reader#peter parker#peter parker x oc#tom holland drabble#tom holland fiction#tom holland fanfic#tom holland fics#Peter Parker fic#peter parker x reader
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Hey! Loved ' approval' so much!!💖 I have a request for you : being in love with your best friend Peter Parker and watching him fall for mj . 💞💞
Hello sweet anon. I'm sorry for the eternity wait, I hope you're still following me. It's been a while since that request has been asked.
To be fair, this request inspired me so much and it took me so much time to write it than i decided to make a mini-series about it. You will find the first part just here
please, notice me | part one
#tom holland#tom holland x reader#tom holland request#peter parker request#peter parker x reader#peter parker fics#tom holland fics
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✩ userholland's wips ✩
last updated: july 3, 2022
do you take requests? only for blurbs, but not fics!
masterlist
SOON TO BE POSTED ↠
untitled peter parker series (5k+) | nwh!peter parker. fluff, angst, prompts, and memes
cruel summer (10k+) | lifeguard!tom. roommates, childhood friends to lovers, fluff, smut
LATEST FICS ↠
between the lines (13.9k) | tom holland. friends to lovers, bookstore au, pure fluff
out of time (8.8k) | tom holland. friends with benefits, smut, playful relationship
two new blurbs!
ON MY MIND ↠
untitled nathan drake fic | nathan drake. adventure au, enemies to lovers, extra smut
untitled peter parker fic | nwh!peter parker. angst, sad fic, fix-it fic, friends to lovers (to friends again bc of spell)
HIATUS/POSSIBLE DISCONTINUED ↠
overdrive (chapter four) | biker!tom, strangers to lovers, light smut
⇢ i feel like i lost some motivation for this fic series because i dont think it got the attention i was sort of hoping for. i love it, i do but i sort of just have no drive to finish it sigh
#wips#tom holland#peter parker#tom holland fics#peter parker fics#tom holland blurbs#peter parker blurbs
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The people's sweethearts
Chapter 1
(Verstappen!reader x tom holland x zendaya)
Soulmate au
YN Verstappen had been through hell, by her own father, for something she didn't even ask for. She grew up learning that she should hate what was given to her, after all it was the reason her father was always angry with her. So what should she do when the one thing she learned to hate is the one thing that brings her love, safe and comfort that not even her older brother can compare.
WARNING: not proof read, Jos Verstappen (worsned like 10 times for this fic) poly relationship, derogatory terms by father, abusive father. If I missed anything else please let me know
Masterlist
Max and Yn Verstappen are close, really close, some would even say they are too close for being siblings, after all it's not usual for an 18 year old to go live with her older brother in a country 2 hours away (by plane) from her university rather than just to rent something close by.
Everyone had very harsh words to say about the pair of siblings, some still do but these are just people who hate max verstappen and they know nothing angers him more than someone insulting his baby sister, everyone was very vocal about how strange, weird and abnormal it is for 2 grown siblings to live together.
Everyone thought that the Verstappen siblings would change their living arrangements after Max and Kelly found each other, only to be surprised by Max buying a bigger penthouse that'd be enough for all 4 of them.
Everyone was negative about the prospect of the redbull formula one driver being followed around by his little sister until the release of The Anatomy of A Champion came out.
When the producers of the show pitched in the idea of talking to yn, max had refused, he wanted his sister nowhere near any of these vultures knowing how bad it can, and most probably will, get. Max was aware from a very young age that what his dad was constantly saying and doing to him and his sister wasn't normal, whenever he was at a race he would see the other boys' dad's hugging them and telling them they did a good job even if they didn't get first place, he would see how other's would have their father waiting for them with water and towels, and most importantly he would see how other dad's had their daughter on their shoulder making the other little girls laugh; Why does dad only make yn cry?
He remembers it so clearly, the way his father hit his sister because of something out of her control, something that she didn't even ask for, something that was thrown at her, it was the day his sister got her soulmark.
Everyone had a soulmark that appeared on their 5th birthday and today was yn's which made jos take her to the soul doctor. Soulmarks were complicated, which is why soul doctors were important, they let you know more about your mark and the bond that's to form between you and your other half.
"Wow young lady, you'll have twice the amount of love it seems."
"What?"
Max knew his father's tone, he know that he's angry and he unconsciously held onto yn's hand, hoping that his father wouldn't take his anger out on her.
"Well Mr Verstappen you see these lines," the doctor gently held up yn's wrist, turning it over to show off her newly given mark "that's an indicator of one soulmate, I'd say he is 3 or 4 years older than her given the shade of the mark, while this other lines that are in a circular shape indicate the other soulmate, he seems to also be around 3 or 4 years older as well. It looks like the mark that indicates young miss yn here is the moon, with how the moon is in the center I would say that yn would be the last in the group meaning that her two other soulmates will meet each other before they meet her."
Jos was angry throughout their drive home, he had already smacked yn into the car while rushing her to get in and as soon as they were in the car he hit her across the head, his arms tall enough to reach the young girl in the backseat. That was the first time max heard these words that would be so easy to recite within a few weeks.
"Two soulmates? Why couldn't you just be normal, why do you have to be such a slut?"
The ride back home was one of the worst max and yn had ever expirenced.
"Two soulmates, ridiculous.They're not even going to want you! They'd meet each other before they even know you!! At least if you turn out to be good for nothing I can just pimp you out on the street, maybe then you'd be useful, and it's not like your soulmates will even like you or want you. Unlovable whore."
"So," the interviewer started as Sophie Kumpen sat on a white sofa in Max's home in Monaco "how is your relationship with your youngest?"
"It's not as close as I'd want it to be," the mother of three confessed as she looked into the camera "yn is a very sweet girl, she had been through a lot. When Jos and I divorced she wasn't really aware of what was going on, she was too young to understand, and as she grew older all she could see was Max. He had been the one to take care of her: i remember once when Max was around ten years old he called me up, asking me how to make a soup because yn was sick and jos was out god knows where.
Max and YN were and are always there for each other, and I don't think that will ever change. I'm sure everyone thought their relationship will sort of tweak a bit when Max and Kelly met each other, but I don't think Max will ever allow that and it's not like Kelly even tried to change their relationship, she was the one who was apartment hunting for all of them while Max was racing and Yn was back in England for her university."
"Do you think yn is putting in the effort to be there for Max?"
"Oh definitely, I mean studying mechanical engineering along with aerospace engineering at one of the top universities in the world is enough proof. Her whole life revolves around Max and I don't think it's a bad thing. Max had been her everything, he's the one she always goes to cause he is all she knows. When she was deciding what to do right after high-school all she said was that she will choose the majors that'll help her get an internship at formula one so that she'd be there with Max for the rest of his races, however long he wants to be there."
"Do you know what happened between Jos, Max and Yn? Don't you think it's weird that once Max turned 18 he asked Christian Horner to ban his father from the paddock? And to help him have yn with him as much as possible?"
"I'm not really going to go into the details of it, but Jos has done a lot of damage, especially to yn. It's not something I can talk about, not that I even want to, but Jos was a terrible husband and a wose father, I'm insanely glad that yn and max turned out as good and well as they are. Seeing them so close is not something that's surprising me given what Jos did to them, to yn" Sophie's voice broke as a few tears escaped her eyes "sorry, it's just, what she had to go through, it's traumatic and I'm happy that she had Max with her through it all. It fills my heart with joy seeing the little family Max and Yn formed with Kelly and Penelope"
ch. II
#max verstappen x sister reader#verstappen reader#tomdaya x reader#f1 x reader platonic#verstappen!reader#older brother max#max verstappen sister#f1 imagine#f1 smau#f1 social media au#f1 instagram au#max verstappen fic#f1 x reader#f1#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x reader#tom holland x reader#tom holland x you#tom holland x y/n#tom holland x oc#zendaya x reader#zendaya x yn#zendaya x oc#tom holland#zendaya#zendaya coleman
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could you write something where peter and reader are having a study date, but peter falls asleep and reader just lets him be/tucks him in?? tysm
don’t want to miss a thing.
synopsis : getting peter to sleep wasn’t going to be as difficult as you’d thought.
pairing : bf!peter parker x reader
wc : 490 +
warnings : none ! super fluffy sleepy!peter is all you need to worry about :) (normal sized text belowww + this is college!peter)
masterlist | request | navigation
a/n : hi nonnie !! thank you so so much for this request <3 i actually whipped this one up pretty quickly because of the rush of inspiration your request gave me hehe :) hope you enjoy it !
it was nearly midnight when you started to notice peter’s eyelids practically begging to fall, his head was inching closer and closer to the surface of your desk. which, admittedly, was somewhat adorable. he’d been like this for the past hour, though it was getting progressively worse every passing minute.
you were in your room, catching up on some studies alongside peter. the boy found every single excuse to be with you, and when you said that you didn’t have time (due to your need to study), he came up with the perfect compromise. a study date.
though, by the time he’d come back from patrolling, it was already 10 pm, and naturally, he was exhausted. but you knew peter, therefore, you knew he was going to put up a fight rather than accepting defeat and falling asleep.
“pete, you look like you’re about to pass out.” you say softly, causing him to whip his head to your direction.
“no, no, no, no. i’m wide awake!” he shoots himself up, making you let out a small laugh, causing the tenseness of his body to disappear. your laugh comforted him.
“i think you need some rest. c’mon, this can wait.” you stood up and gestured for him to go to your bed, but he shakes his head.
“‘m okay, really.” his attempt to assure you was failing, given that he was falling asleep as he said that very sentence.
“you’re so cute when you’re tired.” you smile at him, he returned it with a lazy smile and continued to attempt answering a few practice questions on his worksheet.
“you think so?” he has a smug smirk on his face. gosh. you couldn’t help but giggle.
“just tell me when you wanna call it a day, okay?” you say as you sat back down beside him and continued your work.
“talk to me? tell me about your day, that’ll help keep me up.” he asks, keeping himself focused on his work.
“oh! okay then! well, after class, while you were out, i ended up coming over and talking to may, and she showed me a bunch of your baby photos, which, might i say, were so cute.” peter sat closer to you, and you thought nothing of it as you continued talking.
“mhm…” his responses became increasingly incoherent as you continued talking about what aunt may had told you. he was falling asleep before he began to realize it.
“so then, i asked may- oh, you’re asleep.” your voice starts with its normal volume and you quiet down as you realize.
oh.
he’d found a comfortable spot on your shoulder as you were talking and slowly began to drift off. you observed a small, barely there smile that he had as he slept. his arms were rested around your waist and his face was buried into the crook of you neck. he was finally relaxed.
you found it increasingly difficult to move at all, in fear of him waking up, so you decided that it’d be good for you to get some rest as well.
you press a soft kiss on his cheek (and you may or may not have taken a quick photo of him for your wallpaper) before resting your head gently on his, but you felt him move ever so slightly, so you lift your head up, and so did he.
all he did was smile at you, and you did the same, right before he rubbed his eyes and rested himself onto your shoulder yet again.
work could wait, this, however, couldn’t.
taglist : (send me an ask to be added hehe !) @live-laugh-lovejoy
a/n : thank you for reading loves !!!! requests are open, as per usual, pls just be patient w me, feel free to reblog as it is very important to support writers <3
#peter parker#peter parker x y/n#mcu!peter x reader#peter parker fluff#peter parker imagine#tom!peter parker x reader#tom!spiderman#peter parker x reader#peter x reader#peter parker x you#peter parker fanfiction#spiderman#spider-man#spiderman x reader#peter parker smut#peter parker blurb#peter parker oneshot#peter parker fic#tom holland#tom holland x reader#tom holland smut#tom holland peter parker#peter parker angst#peter parker writing#college peter parker#mcu peter parker#tasm!spiderman x reader#tasm!peter fluff#tasm!peter x you#tasm!peter parker
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