#college!tom x reader

[spideyobsessed]

Just Another Trope || T.H.

college!tom x reader

Chapter 6: The Mean Girl

Synopsis: Time for the big playoffs game!

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You pace back and forth in your room, biting your nails and unable to peel your eyes off of that damn jersey. The realization that you and Tom are just a hair short from being official is finally dawning on you. You don’t know how to be a girlfriend. You’ve never done it before!

At last, you’ve let yourself believe that Tom truly likes you exactly how you are, but the urge to put in extra effort into how you look is becoming overbearing. You groan loudly as you throw yourself on your bed. A few minutes pass by when you get the bright idea to text Gen and the rest of her small group.

A few more minutes go by until you can actually think of what to say. Even through text messages, talking to people can be so nerve wracking for you. But this has to be done. You contemplate on what to say, trying your best not to sound like you’ve been deprived of socialization your whole life. Finally, you just settle for—

Y/n: Hey!

G: Heyy Y/n! What’s up?

Y/n: Do you think I can get ready with you guys? Tom is letting me wear his jersey and I just wanna look… nice

Y/n: Nvm that was a weird thing to ask. Sorry!

You throw your phone to the side before slamming your face into a pillow and letting out a muffled scream. “God, why do you have to be so awkward?” You curse yourself out loud.

You take another peek at your phone to see if they at least gave you a pity reply, but no notifications were shown. Great. Just as you were about to give up on the idea of looking good at the game, you jump when you hear rapid knocks at your door.

You shuffle over to the door and slowly crack it open. Based off the intensity of the knocks, you’re partly expecting a huge, burly man to be standing there with duct tape and zip ties in hand. To your surprise, it’s actually Gen. Behind her stand Hayden, Willow, and Nova, all of them with various kinds of makeup, hair care, and skin care products. They heave heavily, Willow even taking a deep puff from her inhaler.

“Uh, hi.” You mutter.

Gen smiles and weakly pushed past you, allowing herself into your dorm room. “Sorry we took so long.” She says, “We came right away when we saw your text.”

You snicker, “It’s okay. Fifteen seconds isn’t too bad.”

The rest of the group takes her lead and files right in. You can’t resist the smile that creeps onto your lips as you realize this must be what it’s like to have friends. Real friends. Not people who only talk to you because you have a class together.

“You have to tell us EVERYTHING.” Nova gushes. “I can’t believe Holland finally made a move.”

“And he pulled the hottest person on campus!” Hayden adds as they bring you into a tight hug and sway you back and forth.

You chuckle as you pat them on the back, momentarily forgetting just how awkward you are when it comes to physical contact. Tom and his damn charm have tricked you into thinking you can tolerate it now, but turns out you’re just use to his touch— not that you mind.

“We’re not exactly official yet, you guys.” You remind them.

They all look between one another, each sharing the exact same expression. As if it were some sort of telepathic communication between everyone but you, they let out a loud “Pfft!” in nearly perfect unison.

One of them ushers you towards your vanity and sits you down, their hands immediately going to your hair. “So I think it would look really cute if we braided the front parts of your hair and then pin them back.”

“Really? I was thinking we pick it all up into a messy clip with a soft glam look.”

As one voice begins to overlap the other, you smile to yourself and relax. A guy has finally reciprocated your feelings for him, your grades are still better than ever, and you now have a genuine group of friends. Everything seems to be falling into place for you.

Meanwhile, Tom is also smiling to himself as he finishes lacing up his cleats. You’ve been on his mind since he left your dorm.

“So she said yes?” He hears Harrison’s voice from above him.

Tom snaps out of his thoughts, “What’d you say?”

“Y/n.” Harrison clarifies, grunting as he takes a seat on the ground next to Tom, “You’ve been smiling since you’ve gotten here like a lovesick div. So I’m assuming you finally confessed your love and are currently living happily ever after.”

The pink tint simmers into Tom’s cheekbones as he thinks about the mini make out session he had with you just moments before arriving at practice. “Yeah. Almost there, mate.” Tom responds. He’s never been one to kiss and tell.

Harrison smiles and grabs a hold of one of Tom’s shoulders, “Happy for you, bro.”

“What’s this I hear? Holland got himself a little girlfriend?!” Their teammate chimes in, having heard part of their conversation while passing by.

Another one of their teammates joins in by whistling, “Damn Tom. You actually snagged that hot, smart chick you brought to practice?”

“She has a name.” He corrects them, trying not to sound too defensive.

The immature group of boys let out a chorus of “oohs” while playfully shoving Tom around and pinching his cheeks. They pucker their lips and begin making kissing noises, inevitably sending the poor Brit into a fit of embarrassed laughter. He wants to be upset with the way some of the guys refer to you, and just women in general, but he’ll save that for another day. Right now, he’s still too overjoyed at the thought of seeing you in his jersey. Such a simple, juvenile notion, but Tom is too head over heels to care.

“Okay we won’t call her ‘hot nerdy chick’ anymore. What’s her name for real, bro?”

“It’s—”

“It’s Y/n. Right?” …Jamie.

Tom makes eye contact with her, and she’s furious. Her lips are knitted tightly with raised eyebrows as she pokes her hip out and crosses her arms over her chest. Tom gulps, suddenly hesitant to blab on and on about you. He’s in no way afraid to show you off. It’s just that Jamie is one to cause a scene, and Tom doesn’t want to let anything dampen his good mood. Especially before the game.

He nods his head cautiously, “Yeah. Y/n and I are, uh, unofficially official I guess you can say.”

“Wonderful.” Jamie scoffs unsubtly.

“Yeah it is wonderful, J. Thank you.” Tom answers just as passive aggressively.

Some of the boys on the team snicker at the obvious tension, almost all of them knowing Jamie had her claim on Tom for a long time now. Luckily, the coach blows his whistle, rounding up the team like cattle. Harrison chuckles, “I hope Y/n knows how to fight.”

Tom furrows his brows before giving his best friend’s shoulder a nice warning punch. He tries to follow everyone to the team huddle, but of course, he’s being held back by a small hand on his arm. Tom doesn’t need to look to know it’s Jamie, who is probably about to rip him a new one like the psycho she is. However, much to his surprise, her face is soft and concerned as opposed to her angry demeanor only seconds ago. Instantly, his fight or flight instincts ease up. Being the kind person he is, he decides to give her the time of day.

“What is it now?”

“I’m just worried for you, Tommy. That’s all.”

Tom closes his eyes momentarily, trying to keep his composure, and takes a deep breath. He gently pulls his arm from her grip before taking a step back, creating a respectful distance. “What is there to worry about?” He asks. “Y/n has never done anything to anyone.”

“No, I know that! Trust me, she’s a total sweetheart.” She giggles tensely. “It’s just that… I know she’s not used to getting much attention from guys, and let’s face it, anyone with a functioning pair of eyeballs can tell she has a thing for Harry Osborn—”

Tom seethes at the mere mention of his name, jealousy getting the best of him. “What does he have to do with any of this?”

“I’m getting there! Word on the street is Harry’s gonna make a move on Y/n tonight. I just don’t want to see you get hurt when the guy of her dreams finally gives her the attention she’s been craving.” Jamie huffs.

‘The guy of her dreams?’ Tom thinks to himself. From the way you’ve described Harry, it always sounded like a small, innocent crush. What if you’re only settling for him because Harry is too busy sleeping with all the freshman? Tom physically shudders. ‘What did she ever see in him? Would she really leave me for him though?’

His thoughts are interrupted by that same grating voice. “You still there, Tommy?”

“Yeah.” Tom’s voice is hoarse. “I don’t need you to worry about me or Y/n. We’re going to be just fine.”

“Are you sure?”

There’s a beat. A pause. Just like it’s been for the past couple of weeks, Tom isn’t sure again. Now there’s so much to think about. So many details to overanalyze. So many things that could possibly happen. Tom is not sure at all now, but still he says—

“I’m positive.”

With that, he turns around to join his teammates.

Jamie is only a few steps behind him with a confident strut and a smirk on her lips. She has a plan, and it’s been in motion since this morning. The deceivingly harmless strawberry blonde is going to get what she wants, one way or another. And she couldn’t care less who goes down in the process.

“Are you guys sure the eyeliner isn’t too much?” You question your friends one last time.

“Noo!”

“Absolutely not.”

“Not at all.”

You sigh and close the camera app on your phone. Currently, you’re riding in Willow’s car along with the others. You feel bad for the amount of times they’ve had to reassure you tonight, but you can’t help feeling a little out of place. You have to admit, you do look incredible. However, between the falsies and the “subtle” glittery eyeshadow, you almost feel like an imposter. What if Tom doesn’t even like you with makeup on? Or worse— he does.

Your anxious overthinking has no choice but to move to the background of your mind as Willow successfully finds a place to park in the crowded parking lot. You all shuffle out of the car one by one as a sudden rush of excitement vibrates through your bones. This is the first time you’ve gone to a school function that wasn’t mandatory.

“Let’s put some pep in our step, ladies and non-lady.” Nova says, “We have to hurry, if we want good seats!”

You could just scream as happiness bubbles in your stomach. Despite how out of place you may feel while hanging out with this crowd and wearing the star player’s jersey, you let yourself have hope and let your guard down— something Tom has taught you how to do unintentionally. Gen and Hayden link their arms with yours as you all begin to make your way through the sea of people.

You’re reminded just how popular Gen and the others are as it quickly became apparent why Nova wanted to hurry inside. You all were barely able to set one foot onto the premises before being bombarded by what seemed like every single person on campus. In such a short amount of time, you were briefly introduced to lab partners, girls from the volleyball team, old roommates, weird dudes from high school, and somehow your university’s mascot. You huff and briskly tap your foot against the ground, growing more and more anxious the longer it takes to reach the bleachers. The accustomed feeling of being invisible creeps back into your mind. Not a single person that has walked up to your group paid you more than a simple “hi” or a judgemental glance up and down.

Your heartbeat begins to thump louder than the overlapping conversations of everyone around you. “Hey, I’m going to use the restroom really quick.” You lean over and whisper to Gen.

“Okay, I can come with you.” She smiles.

“No, no. It’s okay, it’s just right there.” You insist.

Gen looks at the distance between the restrooms and where they’ve stopped for the time being. Her gaze turns back over to you with raised brows.

“I’ll be quick.” You have to further reassure her.

“Fine. Just be careful! Holland will murder us if you get kidnapped.”

You offer the best chuckle you can, but your vision is becoming blurry and everyone’s voices are muffled. Your mouth runs dry as you make a beeline for the restrooms. Having panic attacks when you’re around a lot of people isn’t anything new to you, so you know the drill. “Just breathe. Just breathe.”

Instead of entering the restrooms, you find a somewhat secluded spot near them and double over. “Okay. Okay I c-can see, uh, my shoes. Bright lights. The concession stand. Our school colors. And um, my hands. Sure.”

You begin to pace back and forth, trying your best not to look crazy. “Come on, four things I can hear. Um my breathing, the marching band, someone laughing, and people cheering.”

Although your breathing has become a little more steady, the pounding sensation in your head is something you can’t ignore. Still, you continue, “Three things I can feel… my clothes. Um, t-the wind. God, it’s so windy…”

Your speech becomes slurred as you start to feel weak in the knees. You pinch the bridge of your nose and squeeze your eyes shut in hopes that it’ll help you power through. The world suddenly begins to spin faster as a big gust of wind blows through, essentially knocking you off your already unbalanced feet. You quickly mentally prepare for your body to become acquainted with the hard, disgusting ground. However, what you feel instead are a pair of arms underneath your armpits, catching you in a trust fall style.

“Woah! You’re lucky I made it to you in time. You were about to eat dirt, literally.”

You recognize the voice, but you’re still too much in a daze to properly react. He helps you get stable, holding onto your hips until you stop wobbling. “Thanks, Harry.”

“No problem. Here, you can have my water.” He offers.

Your eyes meet his and you smile thankfully, grabbing the water bottle from him and taking a few big gulps.

Harry carries on with the small talk, “So I see you’re here for Holland.” You follow his finger and realize he’s referring to the earth shattering soccer jersey clinging to your torso.

“Yeah. He.. uh, he- well we are uh… yeah I’m here for Tom.” You stutter, but not because Harry is making you nervous. You just don’t want to be the first one to say you and Tom are exclusive.

Harry nods curtly and sucks his teeth, “Man that’s too bad because I always thought you were kinda cute. Happy for you guys though.”

You’re immediately confused. No, dumbfounded. NO, you’re actually flabbergasted by the words that just came out of his mouth. You rack your brain thinking of what interaction the two of you could’ve possibly had to make him think you’re cute. He’s never paid attention to you long enough to really conclude that. Even when he kissed you in high school, you could tell his mind was somewhere else. What’s confusing you the most, however, is why he decided to tell you now. You thought him and Tom were friends, and that’s definitely not something you say to your friend’s almost girlfriend.

“What-”

“Y/n, there you are! Is… everything okay?” Gen trots over to you and Harry, looking between you two suspiciously.

It’s hard to pull your gaze away from him, but not for your usual reasons. This is the first time you’ve seen him without rose colored glasses— your first glimpse of how he masks such toxicity with charisma. ‘What did I ever see in him?’ You think to yourself.

“Peachy.”

“Never better.”

You both answer as you still stare at him in bewilderment. Harry stands there with a deceivingly warm grin.

Gen chuckles awkwardly, “O-kay. Well the girls found a seat, so we should go.” She tugs on your arm.

“Mind if I tag along with you guys for a little while? My buddies definitely aren’t here yet.” Harry interjects.

“Where are they?” She asks him.

“They’re still setting up for the party.”

Gen nods, “Oh. Well then of course. The more the merrier.”

Tom stands on his tiptoes as if that’ll give him a better view of the crowd. Harrison let’s out a hearty chuckle at the sight of his best friend resembling a young boy looking for his parents in the crowd at his first recital. “She’ll show up soon, Thomas.” Harrison reminds him.

“But when?!” Tom exclaims, not caring that he now looks and sounds like a small child. “Look. There’s Nova, Willow, and Hayden, but no Y/n.”

“Also, no Gen.” Harrison points out his missing girlfriend. “Maybe they just stopped at the concession.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. I’m still gonna keep an eye out though.” He insists, continuing to hold a strong gaze on the stands.

For multiple reasons, tonight is nerve racking for Tom. If the team wins, they get into the playoffs and everyone is counting on him to get them there. Not only is it an important game, it’s the first game you’re ever gonna see him play in. Although he might not show it all the time, you already make him nervous enough! There’s just something about your captivating eyes and gorgeous smile that could make Tom melt right into his shoes. He’ll have hundreds of people cheering him on tonight, but he only cares about one.

He scans every face and his eyes dart between every entrance until finally he sees Gen. Tom perks up and his heart is racing. He’s gonna explode. He’s going to absolutely explode if he has to wait a second longer to see… you.

“Wow.” He mumbles to himself as you make your grand appearance. You look just as he thought you would. Beautiful. His entire face and the tip of his ears burn bright red with adoration. He wishes he could leave kisses all over your face right in that moment.

Tom watches in awe as you look around nervously. He can tell you’re trying your best to be more social. A part of him is so proud to see you with Gen because he didn’t set that up for you this time. He’s glad that his “tutoring” has paid off just as much as yours has.

He cups his hands around his mouth and shouts, “Hey! Y/n!”

You look down at the field, knowing there’s not a chance anyone in the stands would be calling your name. You scan the green turf and all you can see are players wearing the same colored jersey as you.

“Over here! To your right!”

You can barely hear him, but still your eyes slowly shift to your right. Sure enough, there’s Tom completely alone off to the side. He jumps up and down and waves his arms with the biggest grin on his face. You giggle at his antics, yet you find yourself mirroring him exactly. The both of you act as if you didn’t see each other earlier this morning. You excitedly point to his number plastered on your stomach and back, along with his last name. You understand that wearing his jersey is a big deal to him.

Tom laughs to himself. He knows full and well he’s drawn the attention of half the people in the crowd, but right now, all he can focus on is you. He cups his hands around his mouth one more time to shout—

“…Beautiful!”

You weren’t sure if he yelled a full sentence or not, the voices around you beginning to grow louder and louder. Still, you heard the important part. You blush madly and place a hand over your swelling heart. Almost completely in sync, Tom does the same. When did you become so crazy about him?

“Sorry guys! I got stopped by one of my professors. Something about 10 missing assignments.” Harry explains himself as he catches up to you and Gen. He places a hand on your shoulder and squeezes it slightly. “Maybe I can be your next study buddy, yeah?” You can feel your skin screaming for help as he then rubs up and down your arm. Of course, you’re too nice to say anything about it so instead you subtly try shrugging him off.

The moment shared between you and Tom was short lived. He witnessed the whole thing, feeling an empty pit growing in his stomach. He tried his best not to let Jamie’s words get to him, but seeing that asshole with his hand on you makes all of his previous worries return. Tom’s too far away to read your body language, let alone see your facial expressions. This only makes him more anxious. He starts to worry he didn’t make his feelings clear enough back at your dorm. Although he’s not quite sure how you can misinterpret “Y/n, I’ve liked you for a really long time now”.

You offer Tom a small wave before joining the others on the bleachers. He waves back, hoping you can’t see the change in his facial expression from where you are.

Soon after this encounter, the game began and the team wasn’t off to a very good start. They were missing passes, missing goals, and there have already been 2 fights that nearly broke out. You don’t know anything about soccer. You only know as much as Tom has told you, which is very little. However, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know that 5-0 is not ideal.

“Oh…OH! WHOO!” You cheer.

“No, Y/n. That’s not a good thing.” Nova grumbles.

You look at her in confusion and then back down to the scene on the field. “What? Why? Tom pushed him out of the way and got the ball.”

“Pushing isn’t exactly allowed.” Gen explains, “See the ref raising a yellow card now? That means Tom just got a warning and he’s benched for a few minutes.”

Your slump shoulders, still not completely understanding how some pushing is allowed and some pushing isn’t. You watch Tom stomp over to the bench while running furious hands through his hair. This is a sharp contrast to the sweet, happy Tom you’re always witnessing.

He sits down and groans, angrily knocking a water bottle that was near him to the ground. Jamie, who was already on the bench, slides closer to him. “That was such a bullshit call.”

“No, it wasn’t. I shoved him.” Tom admits. “And did you see me miss that goal earlier? God, I’m playing like absolute shit today. Of course, this would be the first game Y/n gets to see.”

Tom squeezes his eyes shut as he anxiously bounces his leg up and down. Jamie rolls her eyes and looks back at the crowd. She can’t help but scoff when she spots you, watching from the crowd with confusion etched in your features as Gen tries explaining the game to you.

“Something tells me she wouldn’t know the difference.” She mutters.

For a brief moment, she makes eye contact with Harry. No words were exchanged, but everything they needed to say was said.

Jamie turns around and places a comforting hand on Tom’s back. “I’m sure she’s still gonna think you’re amazing, Tommy. I mean, who wouldn’t?” With her free hand, she twirls around a strand of hair.

“It’s more than just that. It’s bad enough that I needed help in class and she had to tutor me. Now suddenly I suck at the one thing I swore I was good at. She’s gonna think I’m pathetic.” Tom seethes.

He’s upset enough that his team is losing, but it’s a different story when they’re losing because of him. Shame fills him and all he wants is to be in your arms, but he can’t even look at you right now because he’s so embarrassed.

“Whatever. I don’t even know why I’m telling you this. Sorry.”

“Holland!” The coach yells. “You’re back in. Hurry up!”

Without another word exchanged, Tom runs back onto the field. You clap and cheer for his return, “Yeah, Tom! Whooo!”

From beside you, you can hear Harry chuckle. “I wonder what’s throwing your boyfriend off his game.”

“It’s probably just nerves.” You defend, “Everyone gets nervous.”

Harry scoffs, “Not me.”

You purse your lips and awkwardly nod your head, unsure of how to respond to that. You stare at Harry as if he was a stranger. That’s when you realize that in reality, he is. It doesn’t matter that he remembered your name or that he was your first kiss, you know nothing about him. Annoyance pumps through your veins as you begin to pick up on what he’s trying to do.

“Don’t you think he was a little too close to that Jayden chick down there?” He asks you.

You roll your eyes in response, “You mean Jamie?”

“Same difference.”

This reminder of Jamie takes you back to this morning. Your blood boils as your mind replays the image of her hands all over his arm and her lips dangerously close to his ears. It’s none of your business, but you wished you asked Tom what she whispered to him.

“I’m just saying, it doesn’t seem very boyfriend material of him.”

“Well he’s not exactly my boyfriend yet so…”

A menacing smirk grows on Harry’s lips as he quirks up his brow, “So there’s still a chance for me. Good to know.”

An incredulous laugh escapes your lips as you bask in the irony. Harry’s had a chance for years, and for the first time, you couldn’t care less about him. That’s when your eyes find Tom on the field. His curls are dampened by sweat, causing them to droop down into his face. You’re a good distance away, but you can still see his muscular chest heaving with every deep breath he takes. Your heart swells.

Suddenly, Tom steals the ball from his opponent and you jump to your feet instinctively. He rushes across the field, dodging the other players left and right.

“Go, Tom!”

He can see that he’ll soon be surrounded and blocked by at least three other players, so Tom scoops out his options. Having to decide quickly, he passes the ball with a hard kick to Harrison before smacking into his opponent and tumbling to the ground. Harrison secures the ball, dribbling it the rest of the way down the field before making the teams first goal of the game.

The rest of the crowd joins you on their feet as they cheer, Gen roaring the loudest of all of them.

“What a spectacular way to end the first half of our game with a clean goal made by Osterfield, who had an assist from Holland! Stay tuned to see if these two young men can lead their team to the playoffs tonight.” The commentator booms over the speaker.

After being informed that you can talk to Tom during halftime, you don’t waste a second getting down there. You watch as your friends greet their partners, giggling to yourself as you take in all the matching jerseys. Suddenly, your feet are being lifted off of the ground and the world begins to spin faster than usual.

You let out a shrill laughing yell as you wrap your arms around the neck of who you’re assuming is Tom.

“Oh, am I glad to see you, darling. I feel like it’s been ages.” Tom sighs dramatically.

He sets you back down, but you both remain secured in each other’s arms. “It’s only be a few hours.” You giggle.

“A few too many, in my opinion. Thank you for coming.” He says.

Tom leans over to press a sweet kiss to your lips, which you graciously accept. He smiles like a madman when you pull apart, forgetting all about his frustrations from earlier in the game.

You cup his face in your hands, “No need for thanks. You were doing so great out there! I mean that goal you just made- UGH!”

“Harrison made that goal, darling.”

“Yeah, but you helped him, right? Oh my god, the way you stole the ball! That was AMAZING! How do you even move your feet like that??” You continue to gush.

Without trying, you’ve significantly improved Tom’s mood. Even in his worst moments, you can always see the best in him. The twinkle in your eyes as you talk about him sends warmth throughout his body.

“I know they’re gonna throw the party tonight if we win or not—”

“When we win.” You swiftly correct him.

Tom smiles and decides to throw you a bone, “When we win… but how about we ditch?”

“You wanna ditch the party? Why?”

He shrugs sheepishly, “There’s somewhere else I wanna take you. It’s special.”

Memories from the last time Tom did something special for you flood your mind. You can’t help the giddiness that comes with those thoughts, but you choke it down. There’s nothing more lame than literally squealing at the mere reminder of your first date with Tom.

“I guess I could ditch the party scene for once.” You say sarcastically.

“Thank you so much! I know pulling Y/n L/n away from a total rager is a lot to ask.” Tom matches your level of sarcasm with an obnoxious American accent.

You lean into his chest as you both laugh, and he wraps his arms around your frame. Unknowingly to the both of you, Jamie watches your entire interaction from a distance. Obviously bothered, she rolls her eyes before marching away.

“I was thinking about hitting the concession stand. Those hot dogs look like the perfect amount of gourmet and gas station chic.” You joke, “Do you want anything?”

“Um maybe just a gatorade please.”

“Blue?”

“Red.”

“Weirdo.”

Tom’s jaw drops and he playfully slaps his hand over his heart like he always does. “You show up to one social event on your own and it’s like I don’t even know you anymore.”

You giggle and lightly shove his shoulder, “So dramatic.”

This time you’re the one to pull him in for a quick peck before making your way to the concession stand. The lines were dreadfully long, seeming like everyone had the same bright idea to come down during halftime. If Tom didn’t request anything, you would’ve said fuck it and went back to your friends. A mediocre hot dog is not worth it. Regardless, you stand there in a long line, happily keeping to yourself and listening to the conversations around you. After a good 15 minutes, you finally purchased your things. You say thank you to the clearly stressed out students running the stand before walking back to the field.

Right as you were about to round the corner and step back onto the field, you bump into someone and drop your hot dog.

“Oh goodness. I’m so sor—”

“Wow! Someone really needs to watch where they’re going.” The voice of Jamie rings in your ears.

Instantly, it becomes clear that this wasn’t an accident. You grip the red gatorade in your hand tightly as adrenaline pumps through your veins.

“You almost stained my jersey, girly.”

“Sorry.” You mutter.

You tried to walk around her without saying another word, but she sidesteps and continues to block your path. “It seems like we’re matching tonight.” She says, referring to Tom’s jersey, “You and Tommy sure are the talk of the town right now.”

“Are we?” You ask, despite knowing you can’t believe anything she says.

“I mean why wouldn’t you guys be? Tom Holland and this random…cute…girl on the honor roll. It’s a match made in heaven.” Jamie smiles widely.

There’s a beat of silence between the two of you. You’re not sure what to say or do next. Nothing seems like a good option, you just know that she’s trying to rope you into some stupid game. You can feel your breath getting shakier, but the last thing you want is to let her know she intimidates you.

You gather yourself before asking, “Is there anything I can help you with?”

“Funny that you ask!” She exclaims, “I thought I should just come to you, woman to woman.”

“W-What does that mean?” You curse yourself for stuttering.

Jamie purses her glossed lips before taking a step closer to you. She places one of her hands on your shoulder, “I don’t think Tommy has been completely honest with you.”

You scoff and shrug her off of you. One more time, you try to walk away from her, but she blocks you again. “Tom and I have had sex before!”

You pause. A long pause. You look her in the eye and really study her face. As much as you don’t want to admit it, she’s not lying. You can tell. You don’t know whether you should burst into tears or punch her in the face. For the second time tonight, you’re reminded of the day you went on that date with Tom. That same night, he told he’s only been with one girl romantically in high school and one girl sexually last year. She’s telling the truth.

“Why are you telling me this?” You ask lowly. Any louder and your voice will crack.

Jamie sighs, “I just thought I should warn you. He’s a player, Y/n. He might put on the sweet guy act. Always complimenting you, taking you on nice dates, the whole nine yards. But that’s all it is— an act. Tom isn’t afraid to play the long game.”

“You’re lying.” You spit even though you know deep down she’s not.

“Y/n, I’m not lying.”

“How do I know that?!”

“Let me guess. He gave you a big speech right? A really sweet one? He said something like you’re the most gorgeous person to graze the earth. Your voice is his new favorite song. When you walk in a room you’re the only one he sees, the only one he ever wants to see. Or something like that.”

You suck in a sharp breath, begging the tears brimming your eyes not to fall down your cheeks. There’s no way she could’ve guessed all of that. She recited it exactly.

“Yeah, he told me the same thing. I gave in, we hooked up, and then he ghosted me. Why do you think he barely acknowledges me when I’m around?” Jamie finishes.

If your breath wasn’t obviously shaky before then it really is now. Everything was a lie. You spent weeks with Tom, and you knew things were moving sort of fast, but you didn’t care. You trusted him and everything he said. You fell for all the grand gestures. It’s like the wind was knocked out of your lungs. You fell for it. Fell for him.

“Sorry to break it to ya, babes.” Jamie apologizes, “I can take this to Tommy. I’m pretty sure blue is his favorite, but this will do. Take care!” She turns on her heels and she’s gone.

“What the fuck.” You mutter to yourself.

You go through a range of emotion, all of the provoking tears. How could he? After you opened up to him, after you helped him, after you kissed him. You should have known better. How could you be so stupid?

Just as you were about to walk away from the game and most likely all the way back to your dorm, you hear his voice.

“Hey, Y/n! My buddies and I are gonna start pregaming a little early. Do you wanna come with or do you wanna watch Holland—”

“No.” You sniffle. “Let’s go.”

/ / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / /

Another chapter down, only a few more to go! I hope you guys are enjoying, thank you sm for sticking around!!

Sorry about the typos, i’ll fix them later lolz

As always, positive feedback is welcomed and encouraged. If you would like to be added or removed from the taglist, feel free to let me know!

🏷: @tpwkstiles @spellbinding10 @alwaaaysadream @osterfield23 @imobsessedzs @yikesitslush @allthisfortommy @sydney-parker @yeswhatever33 @herondalism @princesspinto96 @justliving07 @tshluvr @uwiuwi @mayal0pez @takenbyheartstrings @antonia32 @boomitsallie1 @cleverpluviophile @jeonzll @l—a—u—r—e—n @lnmp89

#tom holland x reader #tom holland fic #tom holland x female!reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland imagine #college!tom x reader #tom holland angst #tom holland x y/n

[waitimcomingtoo]

SLUT!

pairing: Peter Parker x reader

synopsis: if they call you a slut, you know it might be worth it for once

chapter one: and I know you heard about me

chapter two: you must like me for me

chapter three: you and me would be a big conversation

chapter four: they took the crown but it’s all right

chapter five: don’t say I didn’t warn you

chapter six: if a man talks shit then I owe him nothing

chapter seven: if he drops my name then he had it coming

chapter eight: dying to see how this one ends

#peter parker imagine #Peter Parker college au #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x y/n #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x y/n #complete #completed series

[selfcarecap]

Never Have I Ever [p.p]

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Summary: When Peter meets you at college and you two bond over your lack of sexual experience, you quickly become the best friend he’s ever had. But while he falls madly in love with you, he doesn’t know if you feel the same. You hold his hand when you’re out together, talk to him about the vibrator you want to buy and bless him with that beautiful look in your eyes that is reserved only for him… yet he’s not sure if you see more than a friend in him. Little does he know, you’re wondering the same about him, hoping for the same outcome.

Warnings: smut (all first time, oral f + m receiving, dry humping (semi-public? but it’s completely uninterrupted and unseen and in a remote location lol), masturbation (f with a sex toy and m with the reader’s underwear), vaginal sex – the second half of this is basically all smut), a sprinkle of jealous Peter, Professor Garfield lol, a little bit of angst ig bc Peter keeps doubting himself and thinks he’s a pervert but he’s just dumb as shit and oblivious, (all Peter’s pov <3), fic starts off with an awkward and embarrassing story lol, alcohol/drunk!Peter, (btw if first year of college sounds a little young to you you can always imagine they just took a break between hs and college), idk how college works in the usa, also I mention Peter's enhanced senses but it's not a Spiderman fic at all lol

Word Count: 23k omg, the longest thing I’ve ever written (if that’s too long for you i’ve put four ‘dividers’ in total so it’s split into 4 more or less equally long parts (the first is like 4k, second is 7k, then 4k again and the last is 8k) but of course you can ignore that and just read all of it in one go, all 23k are in this post, it’s a one shot)

It's finally here! Thank you for all the love I received for the teaser and just talking about this fic already 💘 This has been on my mind for so so long and I’ve been (sporadically and inconsistently) writing it since like September. I’m so glad it’s finally finished, this was one of my favourite wips I‘ve ever worked on, I really loved writing Peter and the reader and their dynamic and experiences and I hope you love reading it just as much 💖

｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ 𝒐𝒏𝒆 ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★ﾟ･:*:･｡

It’s Peter’s first week of college and so far he barely knows anyone. The guys in the rooms next to Peter’s are cool, but he figures it wouldn’t hurt to know a few more people, so he decides to go to this party he’s been hearing about all week.

The party is exactly how he imagined it; loud music, drinking games, a pretty girl sitting next to him. So pretty that he doesn’t dare look at you for too long because he’s worried you’ll catch him staring and think he’s being weird.

The game you’re all playing started as a simple never have I ever, but somehow people are now telling their funniest sex stories. Peter doesn’t realise it’s part of the game that everyone tells a sex story until it’s your turn and he notices how the last few people all told a story, one after the other, going around the circle you’re all sitting in.

His heart starts thumping harder in his chest. He doesn’t have a sex story to tell. But if he gets up now it will be obvious that he’s avoiding his turn, right? 

Fuck.

Besides, he wants to listen to your story. He just has to hope that his usually clever brain will help him come up with something when it’s his turn.

“Most memorable sex experience…” you hum in thought as you lightly drum the bottle in your hands against your lips. “Oh wait, this one’s funny. The guy I was with asked me if I peed myself when he took off my underwear because he didn‘t know that women get wet when they‘re turned on. I explained it to him but he wouldn’t believe me. 

“He was sweet about it and told me it happens to the best of us — and that he sometimes pees himself too. So at that point, I just saw it as a second chance from the universe to show me what this guy was like and I left.” 

The students around you laugh and comment on the story and as you look over at Peter a few seconds later he realises the other people are doing the same. 

They‘re expecting him to tell a sex story now. His mouth goes dry and his brain is empty. Think. Think. Think. Think of something. Anything. 

But he has nothing.

You speak up again, pointing at the guy next to Peter, “Oh my god, Brandon, you remember that story you told me earlier? You need to tell that one, that was the funniest thing I‘ve ever heard.”

A weight is lifted off of Peter‘s shoulders when the attention simply shifts to the guy next to him.

What felt like overthinking for hours when he couldn‘t come up with anything to say was probably only a short moment, less than five seconds, and not a single person noticed that they skipped over Peter. He lets out a breath of relief as other people tell stories and no one demands anything from Peter. 

He keeps glancing at you, trying to figure out if what you did was deliberate or not. 

The only thing he‘s gotten from you so far is a second of eye contact, your face neutral but your eyes holding something positive. The next time you stand up to refill your drink, Peter follows you into the kitchen.

You smile at him when you see him enter, offering some of the diet coke you‘re pouring into your cup to him. “No thanks,” Peter says, watching you fill the rest of your drink with rum. 

“I don‘t know if you did that on purpose or not but uh.. thanks,” he says, clearing his throat after, annoyed at himself for sounding so nervous. You’re gorgeous, but he doesn’t even know you yet. You’re a stranger, yet he finds himself caring about what you think of him.

You muster him for a few seconds before you realise what he’s talking about.

“Oh. You mean during the.. the sex stories? That was no big deal. You just looked a little uncomfortable so I tried my best to get the attention to shift to someone else,” you smile.

“Thanks, that... that was really kind. Although I was kind of hoping it wasn‘t obvious how nervous I was. I just don‘t have any special or funny sex stories to tell... or any sex stories at all,” he avoids eye contact when he says it but you immediately get what he means. 

“Can I tell you a secret?” You say, taking a step forward to stand closer to him, his cheeks heating up. He nods.

“The story I told? That was completely made up. I‘ve never had sex with anyone either. And I‘m not ashamed of that fact, I mean I‘m so young and there‘s nothing wrong with waiting or honestly I‘ve just never... been in that type of situation with a boy…”

“I get it. You don‘t have to explain yourself. Same boat,” he smiles and nudges your shoulder but regrets it instantly.

Nudging your shoulder? He has never nudged anyone‘s shoulder. Especially not the shoulder of a pretty girl he just met. 

You don‘t take any notice of it though, much to Peter‘s relief, and you continue. 

“Even if I personally don‘t care how old anyone is when they have their first time, I just felt nervous saying it in a room full of frat boys. I know this year has barely started but so far all the frat boys I’ve met live up to their reputation and I didn‘t want them making any stupid comments. 

“If I was my ideal, confident self - or just a little tipsier - I probably would have just said that I don’t have any sex stories to tell but... I don‘t know. I was nervous.”

“I get that. That‘s exactly how I felt too. Only I wasn‘t creative enough to think of a story. My mind just blanked, I must have looked crazy when it was my turn to say something. You were calm though, the story seemed as real as all the others... maybe even more real, I mean what you said sounds very realistic to me considering how little most men know about women’s bodies.” 

“Yeah,” you giggle, “But you didn‘t look nervous either. It‘s just that I knew I might not be the only one too nervous to admit that I don‘t have any experience so I was hyper-aware of it, I guess.”

“Okay, I‘m glad. Thanks again.” The conversation is slowly dying but he doesn’t want it to end yet.

He holds his hand in front of him, “I’m Peter by the way. Biochemistry and computer science.”

His fingers tremble for a second. Who introduces himself like that? God, he’s messing this up before it even started.

But you grin, trying not to laugh and tell him your name and introduce yourself in the same way, “Oceanography and computer science.”

He takes a second to release the breath that he was holding in, “Oceanography? Wow, that sounds really interesting. You‘ll have to tell me more about that.” 

“It is. And I will once college starts. I‘m really excited.” 

“Me too. And computer science? That means we‘ll probably have a few classes together right?”

“Probably. Do you have your schedule yet?”

He takes out his phone and shows you the picture he took of it, and you lean in to look at it so closely that he can smell your lovely perfume.

“I don‘t have it on my phone but I recognise that professor’s name,” you point at a name on the screen, “I‘m in that class too, I heard professor Garfield is really good. I have two classes with him.”

And that‘s how you two end up talking all night. Peter walks you home and you realise your dorm rooms are merely minutes away from each other and you make a vow to meet each other again. He really hopes you don’t forget about him, or that you weren’t just being nice.

Peter falls asleep with a smile on his face and you on his mind. 

*

The next day, he realises with disappointment that you didn’t exchange numbers. He would like to text you and meet you in front of the lecture hall so it would be less nerve-wracking to go to his first-ever college lecture.

It would help to have someone he already knows with him and in case you were nervous he’d love to be there to calm you down too; make you feel less alone–you can do this together.

He knows one of his first classes on Tuesday is one that he shares with you. But he hopes he can see you on Monday to be each other’s support, or at least to see you for five minutes between classes.

He looks for you all day, but doesn’t see you again.

He’s giddy all night, knowing he’s definitely going to see you tomorrow. His plan is to get up extra early and casually and totally coincidentally lounge around in the hallway that your room is in, and then you can go to class together.

But one missed alarm later he‘s running through the building, trying to find the lecture hall that was shown to him during freshers week, but he didn’t quite manage to remember each one of the hundreds of rooms.

Time is running out and he has one minute until the lecture starts. He runs around the next corner and finally finds the hall he’s supposed to be in.

There are hundreds of students though, and he seems to be one of the last; he can’t even see if there are any seats left.

While his eyes scan the rows for an empty seat–but more importantly for you–he sees some movement directed at him. A wave.

His eyes travel down the arm that's waving at him and soon he’s making eye contact with you. He’s only met you once but he can’t stop a huge smile from taking over his entire face.

Peter blushes while he’s walking up the steps, on his way to you, but once he’s close he can see your bright smile and he’s immediately reminded of why he likes you so much.

“Hi,” Peter plops down next to you on the first seat of the row. You lean in and Peter’s breath gets caught in his throat when he realises you’re hugging him–just a friendly side hug, but it’s a hug nevertheless.

He takes his water out of his bag, trying to calm himself down by focussing on the cool drink running down his throat. It does clear his mind, the water, but he’s more and more comfortable with every second that he sits next to you. Your aura is so kind and calming, and he finds his shoulders losing the tension as you start talking to him.

“I thought you weren’t going to make it or something. We forgot to exchange numbers so I found your Instagram and was gonna message you there. But you‘re private so I couldn‘t.”

Ever since you said goodbye the night after the party, Peter has been worrying that that was all. That it was just an in-the-moment type of thing and you wouldn’t think it was anything special – or worse, you’d forget about him. But now you’re here, keeping a spot for him, telling him you’ve been thinking about him and wanted to message him. The warmth in his chest spreads when you smile at him.

And sure, just because you remember him doesn’t mean you’re best friends, but it confirms that Peter isn’t the only one who thought you had a connection that was worth remembering.

Peter most definitely also stalked your Instagram. It’s public but he didn’t want you thinking he was weird for spam-liking all your pictures–which he definitely wanted to do but he stopped himself in time. 

He put a timer on Instagram for the app to remind him when it’s been twenty minutes of looking at your pictures. Not that there were enough to be scrolling for twenty minutes straight – he simply enjoyed looking at you.

He takes his phone out and accepts the follow request you sent him and follows you back.

“Put your number in,” you place your phone in front of him, opened on a new contact card that Peter fills out with his number and name. You look at it and add a <3 behind his name and Peter prays he’s not blushing as hard as it feels.

You text him You up? and if his cheeks weren’t red before then they definitely are now. He can tell you’re just teasing but the fact that you’re already comfortable enough to joke around with him makes him grin.

He feels like he can be himself with you and you’re doing the same. You’re not holding back with showing Peter that you like him and it makes him feel good about himself. 

But his smile fades when he hears your next words

“The professor is so hot, I have no idea how I‘ll concentrate. I talked to him before I sat down and he has a really nice voice too. And that accent… But wait till he turns around and you see his face – or you could just stare at his ass.” 

Peter doesn’t know why it feels like someone stabbed him right in the heart. And when he sees you further staring at the man, it’s like that knife is being pulled out of his chest and Peter bleeds out. 

“I-it’s not even that big,” Peter tries.

You look at him and now he feels stupid for having said that. 

“Butts don‘t have to be big to be hot. Little booties matter. And they’re really cute sometimes.”

“W-well yes, of course, but.. he‘s really not that hot,” Peter says, and then Professor Garfield turns around, “...okay he is that hot.”

“Told you,” you sing, a smile on your face, and he can’t be mad at you when you’re looking at him like that. He couldn’t be mad at you no matter what you did. While Professor Garfield, or Andrew–as he tells you all to call him–starts the lecture, Peter tries to figure out what’s got him so mad.

Yes, of course you’re pretty. You’re gorgeous. But that doesn’t mean that he has to have a crush on you immediately. Just because you’re a girl and he’s a guy doesn’t mean that this has to go beyond a friendship. Men and women can be just friends. He can’t just fall in love with the first pretty woman who’s nice to him.

Okay, maybe he already has a crush on you. So what? Who can blame him?

But Peter doesn’t want to rush anything with you. He’ll give you the time to figure out what you feel for him, and he’ll just follow your lead. He may think you already like him as much as he likes you, but it’s still only the second time you’re ever seeing each other. 

That and he just doesn’t want to overthink it all and end up losing the first person at college who genuinely feels like someone he could be friends with.

He tries to ignore how you giggle at every joke the professor makes and tries to focus on the warmth of you next to him instead. Not too much though, he’s already let your teasing get to his head and maybe even to a body part further down.

Even if it means he won’t have to witness you laughing at Professor Garfield’s jokes anymore, Peter is sad when the lecture is over. It’s the only lecture he has today and therefore also the only one he has with you today.

As you pack your things and people swarm out of the lecture hall, you and Peter stay back, taking it slow.

“What’s your next class?” You ask, looking him right in the eyes–like any normal person–but he’ll really have to get used to that. He can’t lose his mind every time you just look at him. But he's so attracted to you.

“I, um, I no. I mean, I don’t have any other classes today.”

You smile unexpectedly, “Cool, me neither. You wanna do something? We could get lunch together.”

You say it with such ease, showing your interest in him like you don’t know how it’s making Peter feel warm and bubbly inside.

Even if Peter still gets nervous around you, simply because he wants to impress you and doesn’t want to fuck this up, he realises quickly that he has no reason to be. 

Your friendship blooms effortlessly and quickly. 

A week later you’re texting like you’ve been best friends for years and he finds himself too happy around you to worry about what he’s saying or how he’s acting. You like him the way he is and he can feel it deeply and confidently. 

Yes, he still stutters a lot around you - but he does that around most people, to be fair - and once you part ways for the day he overanalyses every little thing you’ve said to him, overthinks every little touch of yours for some form of affection that is more than platonic.

And it’s hard, figuring out whether you like him as more than a friend.

But this friendship is so new and so exciting that Peter thinks it makes him just as happy as an average relationship in the honeymoon phase would. So even if he does crave more intimacy with you, it’s hard to complain when he has a friend like you.

*

You show up at Peter’s door at midnight on a Friday. His sleep schedule has been surprisingly healthy for a college freshman so if anyone else disturbed him when he was already in pyjamas, he’d be annoyed.

But with you, he’s ecstatic. He’s awake immediately, grinning from ear to ear at your surprise visit. You never left his mind but he thought he’d have to wait until tomorrow to see you again.

Peter is more than aware of the contrast between your done up state and him in his ratty old pyjamas. You’ve seen him in pyjamas before and he knows better than to think you’d judge him, but he can’t help but to want to at least try and match you when you’re looking as gorgeous as you are.

“Oh sorry, I thought you’d still be up,” is the first thing you say, ready to leave if you’re bothering him in any way.

“No, no, I am, don’t worry. What’s up?” Peter asks, trying to look cool as he leans against his door frame. He ignores how it hurts like hell where his elbow meets a sharp corner.

“Well… I was gonna ask if you wanna go watch a movie with me,” you give him a charming smile not knowing he’d say yes no matter what you asked of him.

“Now?”

“Uh, yes. Now. But it’s fine if not, genuinely I won’t be mad. I can see that you had other plans,” you smile at his pyjamas.

“No. Don’t worry, I’d love to go. Do you have tickets or…?” Jealousy bubbles up inside Peter when he realises you might have been planning to go with someone else. With some other guy. Maybe he bailed on you and Peter is the second option (which he would still be grateful for, but he hates the thought of you with another guy).

“No, but I checked online and they have plenty of tickets left. It’s the last day they’re playing this film. The one I told you about, the horror one.”

“Oh God.” He’s trying to pretend that you still need to convince him when really Peter just needs a second to realise he was just overthinking again. He is your first choice. Not another guy.

“Pleeeease, Peter,” you grab his arm and pout. 

Peter has been convinced since the moment you showed up at his door.

“Give me a second,” he smiles and you grin back, “Really? You’re the best,” you kiss his cheek enthusiastically and he goes back into his room fast enough to hide his blush.

He picks out an outfit, brushes his teeth and puts on deodorant just in case.

You take him to the cinema with your hand in his. Peter knows it’s not a romantic gesture, you’re just treating him like you’d treat a female friend, but his brain doesn’t know the difference. He’s just happy to be touching you.

When you buy the tickets the guy at the movie theatre shows you the available seats on his screen. He points to one of those love seats where two seats are joined together so you can cuddle.

You nod and when the guy gives Peter a congratulatory smile, Peter’s cheeks heat up. The guy probably thinks you and Peter are a couple. It’s not just good for Peter’s ego and the fake scenarios with you that he’ll imagine before bed, but it’s also better for the guy. Peter saw the way he was eyeing you, and Peter doesn’t know what he would have done if the guy had asked for your number.

“We can cuddle,” you grin as you sit down and pat the seat next to you. You’re almost alone in the theatre, you could sit anywhere you want but you want to be close to him.

While you wait for the trailers to start you take Snapchat videos with Peter, asking him if you can send them to your friends at home. His heart swells when you say that you’ve told them about him.

He takes pictures of you looking all pretty and perfect and he wonders if it would be too much to set it as his phone wallpaper. Your head is on his shoulder as you scroll through the pictures that he just took of you and your perfume is hypnotising.

How is every little thing about you so captivating? Peter has never met anyone like you.

He’s fucking scared during the movie, but with his eyes mostly closed he manages to be the guy you can hold on to during the creepy scenes. Your fingers around his bicep squeeze every time there is a jumpscare and at some point he has to force himself to watch the film after all if he doesn’t want to get hard from your touch. He knows it’s pathetic, but he can’t help it.

You look beautiful in the light of the stars as you two walk home, your hand still around his arm, gushing about the film and thanking him for watching it with you despite the spontaneous change of his plans.

You spend some time in the common area by your dorms. It’s late and everyone else seems to be at some party elsewhere or sleeping. You cling on to Peter, still jumpy from the horror film and he nearly asks you if you want to sleep in his bed.

He nearly says it about five times, but he can’t quite get the words out. He doesn’t want to give you the wrong impression, even if you may be about to ask the same thing.

Peter sits there nervously, gulping as he’s about to ask. He really will say it this time. But before he opens his mouth he hears your deep breaths and notices how your body has gone slack against his side.

He kisses the top of your head in content and soon, sleep finds Peter too. He doesn’t have to dream about being close to you because it’s already his reality.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ 𝒕𝒘𝒐 ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★ﾟ･:*:･｡

It’s a few weeks into the semester and it’s become a routine for you two to study together. Whether you’re helping each other with the classes you share, or silently working on other things and enjoying each other’s company, your study sessions have even managed to make studying a rather fun part of college. 

Especially when you’re both sitting on Peter’s bed, and your knees or legs or arms are always touching.

You’re not focussed today, scrolling around on your phone instead of studying. You throw your phone to the bed at some point and you hug your legs to your chest in thought.

“You think Andrew will let me suck his dick? For a better score?”

Peter’s heart stops beating for a second. 

You haven’t kissed, you haven’t said anything that should have led Peter to think that this is more than friendship, but it seemed like there could be something in the future. Apparently, you’re not even considering it.

“Who’s Andrew?” He asks, mouth dry and voice weak.

“Professor Garfield.”

“Oh. Well, I-I think that‘s illegal.”

“Is it though?” You tilt your head and give him a deliberately incredulous look.

“Yes.”

“Not if no one finds out. It’s don’t break the rules or don‘t get caught, Peter.”

He’s distracted by you saying his name for a moment. There’s nothing he loves hearing more.

But he has to stop you from doing… that. He can’t entirely tell how serious you are, but he has to make sure to convince you that it’s a bad idea.

“No offence, but what makes you believe you’ll be good enough for him to give you a better score? If you’ve never… you know, done anything like it.” He remembers your conversation from the first time you met, and if you haven’t given anyone a blowjob since then, he knows it would be your first time. Your first time can’t be with a professor, even if Peter disregards the fact that he wants to be the only guy you have sex with, it really is a bad idea.

“I’m a young and pretty student and he’s a kinda old guy. He’s like 40. So I’m sure that I’ll be enough for him.”

Peter doesn’t say anything for a moment, thrown off by your casual tone.

“Don’t you think so?” you press, teasing in your voice.

“No- of course you’re pretty. You’re beautiful,” he smiles, pressing his lips together. 

“Aww,” you sit up and press a kiss to his cheek, “So are you, Pete.” You hold on to his shoulder as you lower yourself into his lap, your butt right next to his thighs and your upper body resting on his legs, and his breath hitches. 

“Well if you think I need practice, then.. I could practise on you first.”

“Practise w-what on me?” He asks, feeling your hands on his abs.

“Going down on a guy,” you say, looking up at him. Now the feeling in Peter’s belly changes from raging jealousy into something else of equal passion. He’s thought about you doing that before, (and pushed the thought out of his mind as quickly as it appeared) but hearing you suggest it makes a new flame of desire light up in him. 

The first conversation you ever had was about sex. But anytime you mention anything sexual, Peter doesn’t know how to act.

“I- I mean. I’m not- I feel like, maybe that’s not—”

“Don’t worry, I’m joking. I won’t actually suck that guy’s dick. I just don’t wanna do this stuff right now,” you sigh, sitting up and closing your textbook.

“How about we do something to distract you for the night, and then tomorrow I’ll help you with the next assignment,” he suggests, relief still flooding through his body, happy that you don’t actually want to suck your professor’s dick.

“You’d do that?” 

“Of course. I’ll always help you when I can but I especially owe you after you did my homework last week when I fell asleep.”

You sit up, “I told you it was no big deal. It was just multiple choice and all I did was copy my answers.”

“Yeah but if I hadn’t woken up then I would have missed the deadline and failed.”

“I know you’d do the same for me. And besides, you looked so peaceful sleeping. I couldn’t wake you up to do some boring computational linguistics quiz at eleven pm.”

Peter smiles at the memory of last week. When he’s with you, he doesn’t want to sleep, he wants to spend time with you. But he was tired and you were studying something Peter couldn’t help you with anyway, and he’s so comfortable around you that he just drifted off to sleep because he trusts you – he wouldn’t be okay with being unconscious next to just anyone.

“Well, it was still a very kind thing to do.”

Not sure what you’re doing yet, you go to your dorm room so you can change out of your sweats and into something prettier–even though Peter thinks you could wear sweatpants 24/7, and you’d still outshine everyone. He nearly stays outside but with a confused look you ask him what he’s doing outside and he reluctantly comes in.

Picking out an outfit, you pull off your shirt with no warning and even if he can only see your back an “Oh my God” leaves Peter’s mouth immediately, followed by a quiet, “Sorry,” as he turns around.

“Don’t worry. I’m just changing. It’s just my body, you can look.”

Despite your nonchalant words, Peter can hear your heart beating loudly and frantically in your chest. He tries not to let it get to him, it doesn’t have to mean that you like him. Maybe you’re just realising that you don’t want a boy to see you half-naked after all but you don’t want to say it now after confidently assuring him it was okay. 

Peter sits down on your bed, turned away from you even though it takes all the willpower he can muster.

A few moments later you jump onto the bed next to him, “So, what are we doing tonight?”

“Do?” He asks, still dazed from seeing your naked back, “Oh do, yeah. Uh yes, we can do something.” 

You giggle, looking at him expectantly. That’s when Peter remembers he was the one who suggested that you go out tonight.

“Oh-well yeah, I was thinking we could take a walk along the river, I heard they have these carnival booths up every Friday night.”

Going out in the evenings has become your and Peter’s thing. Sure, many people–especially college students–go out in the evening. But with you, it feels different. It feels special.

Illuminated by the streetlights and the LED glow from the booths, you and Peter play a few rounds of ring toss and throwing darts at balloons. You both swear it’s rigged because neither of you win anything.

You eat popcorn while Peter gets cotton candy and once again you hold Peter’s hand throughout most of your trip. It’s become a habit of yours, apparently meaningless as a romantic gesture, but platonically it means everything to Peter. You like him enough to constantly initiate physical touch; plus, he’s never seen you hold hands with any of your other friends.

Still, Peter is forever wishing for more. Sometimes he looks at you and wonders how he’s managed not to kiss you yet. But his fear grows with every day; the closer you get the harder it will be to confess his feelings because the risk of ruining something beautiful keeps getting bigger. 

He’s never been this attracted to anyone but he also thinks he’s never had a friendship as good as yours. He simply can’t risk something good, something beautiful, something that makes him as happy as he’s ever been. Your friendship is strong but he’s scared you wouldn’t be able to come back from Peter confessing his feelings for you and you not feeling the same.

It could weird you out, you could take pity on Peter and see him in a different light, or worst of all, you could think he’s been taking advantage of you. He’s never touched you anywhere that would be reserved only for a lover but you two are quite close. You’ve cuddled a few times, or just a few hours ago you were changing in front of him – he doesn’t want you thinking he intentionally got any sexual gratification out of it and for you to view him differently.

He already feels bad enough when nothing but the image of you clouds his thoughts whenever he jerks off. He can’t help it anymore. He used to be able to think of something else or simply watch porn but now that he’s with you so often and you’re so perfect, you’re like an intrusive thought; whenever he’s naked, there’s nothing on his mind but you, just like when a song is stuck in your head – there’s no easy way of getting rid of it.

Peter has never been one to feel shame after masturbating. But if you only liked him as a friend and ever found out what he thinks about when he’s fucking his fist late at night, he doesn’t even want to know what your opinion of him would change into. But the mental image of you alone makes Peter cum so hard, over and over, that he can’t stop, even if guilt plagues him right after as he cleans up the mess he’s made.

He looks down at your intertwined hands while you’re walking home across campus. He wonders what you’d do if you knew that the hand you’re holding right now jerks Peter off every night without fail, thinking precisely of how your hand could replace Peter’s.

On your way home, you walk past a frat house, the vibration of the music reaching Peter’s chest even from the outside.

“Shit, Chloe told me about this party. I forgot I said I’d be there.”

“Who’s that?”

“She’s one of my friends from an Oceanography class. Do you mind if we go in? Just for half an hour.”

It’ll definitely distract Peter from thinking about you in a way that he’s not sure you’d be comfortable with.

You’re dragged away by some of your girlfriends as soon as you enter. They all say something about Peter but you quickly shrug off what they’re saying about you two always being together. He can’t tell if it’s a genuine no or just that feeling of embarrassment that you get when your friends tease you about your crush.

So your friends see it too? The indescribable chemistry between you two? Even with his enhanced hearing, he can’t hear the rest of your conversation because some of his own friends are urging him to go play beer pong with them.

Peter sees you every twenty minutes or so and you wave or smile at him and check up on him every time you walk past. Spending time with your other friends is good for both of you, but it’s also good to know that he’s still on your mind, just like you’re on his.

“Help me find the bathroom,” you tell Peter the next time you see him. He’s getting a little bored at this party so he assumes you also want to escape.

You walk into the bathroom together and Peter doesn’t realise that you actually just need to pee until he sees you contemplating on pulling your underwear down or not, “Can you wait outside?”

“Of course.”

Peter has no interest in being in the bathroom with you while you pee, but the fact that you nearly let him stay in there with you shows him once again how comfortable you are around him. He’s smiling like an idiot, standing by the wall opposite the bathroom until he hears your “You can come in.”

After you’ve washed your hands you sit on the edge of the bathtub and pat the space next to you for Peter to join you and you chat about whatever comes to your mind. So you did want a break from the party too, and Peter is glad to provide that.

“What song is that?” Peter asks. The music is loud enough for you to clearly hear it even upstairs in the bathroom.

“I don’t know, I’ll shazam it. You’re right, it sounds good.”

When you unlock your phone the screen is filled with the picture of a vibrator. You ignore it and go to Shazam the song, but Peter can’t let you off like that.

You always get to tease him so he smirks when he can finally get you back, “Wait wait wait,” he takes your phone from you, lifting it high in case you want to take it from him.

“What is this?” He asks, smiling, teasing you lovingly and in good fun but you look at him as if he’s talking about the most boring thing ever, not embarrassed in the slightest, but once more, that could be a good sign; another sign of your close relationship.

“Oh, it’s this vibrator. But it’s way too expensive for me.”

Peter licks his lips, trying not to freak out. He doesn’t know why he thought talking to you about a vibrator would be a good idea. But he tries to appear as calm as you, “Why is it expensive? What’s so special about it?”

“Well, it basically sucks your clit. But I don’t want to spend over 100 dollars on something like that when I can just go out and find a guy to suck my clit within like five minutes. It’s all those guys on campus think about, I swear. I’m glad you’re not like that, Pete” you smile at him and put your head on his shoulder, completely catching him off guard with your words.

He won’t be able to jerk off without thinking about you for days now; meaning he won’t be able to jerk off for days. Do you mean you’d hate knowing that Peter thinks about you sexually or do you just mean that there’s no pressure with Peter? And that any other male friend would have asked for sex by now?

Peter knows he’s not a perv, but he doesn’t know if you’d say the same if you knew you were the protagonist of his spank bank. 

“Wait, actually, a friend told me they’re way cheaper if you buy them in-store and they’ll have more to choose from... will you go with me?” You ask him with a big fake pout.

“To a.. a sex shop?”

“I don’t want to go alone. And you’re my best friend.”

He can’t say no to you after you call him that, even if having a constant reminder of what you use to masturbate is going to kill him.

“O-okay. But why can’t you just go with your friend?”

“I’m not as comfortable around her as I am around you. Unless you really don’t want to.”

“No no I’ll go,” he nods and you grin.

“I’m sure they’ll have something for you too,” you say with raised eyebrows. And even though his hand and the thoughts about you make him cum hard and fast enough that he doesn’t feel like he needs a sex toy, your words help him feel a little less guilty. You telling him to go buy a sex toy suggests that you’re not grossed out when thinking of him masturbating, so maybe you’d understand that he’s got to do what he’s got to do sometimes, and you actually wouldn’t completely hate him if you found out what goes on in Peter’s mind when he jerks off.

“But we’re not going before we finish our assignment.”

“Deal,” you shake his hand with a laugh and join your friends downstairs to play the last few rounds of drinking games before you go home.

You’re good, but the other team is better. 

You didn’t really want to drink tonight and are only playing for fun but Peter likes following the rules so someone has to have the drinks. You assure him he doesn’t have to but Peter downs all the drinks for you and the ones for himself, relying on his enhanced abilities to drink them like water. He has one drink and then five more and when you two leave the party he realises he’s drunk.

You insist on taking him to your room to make sure he’s okay but Peter is a funny drunk so he doesn’t feel too bad. If he gets to sleep in your bed he could never feel bad, and knowing you you would never offer if you weren’t okay with it.

“I like when you take care of me,” Peter smiles at you when you tuck him into bed and he takes your hand in his, “And I like when we hold hands.”

“I like it too,” you kiss his forehead and Peter practically swoons. You were holding his hand the whole way back home from the party, like one of those people keeping a toddler on a leash and he’ll probably be embarrassed tomorrow morning but right now he’s just grateful for the constant affection.

You seem no bit annoyed that you have to deal with a drunk Peter, you’re just spending time with your best friend (he hasn’t stopped thinking about you calling him that) who happens to be drunk.

“Will you need a bucket?” You ask as you pull down your skirt and leave on your cropped shirt.

“A what?” He asks, heart beating harder as he stares at your half-naked form.

“Do you think you’ll throw up?” You ask.

“No, I’ll be fine.”

When you walk over to the bed Peter sees everything in slow motion. You stand next to the bed for a few seconds, tapping on your phone, and Peter admires your beautiful body while he can.

“You know how much I love your legs? They look so good,” he says, and he can’t tell if he’s embarrassingly drunk right now or not. He just knows that your legs are perfect. You’re perfect. And that’s something his sober self would wholeheartedly agree with.

You smile and turn off the lights, leaving the window open so Peter can get some fresh air but it also leaves enough light for Peter to admire your legs some more.

“Scoot over,” you tell him and get in bed with him.

“No, you don’t understand how incredible your legs are.” He gets one last glance at them before you pull the blanket over your body.

“Thank you, Peter,” you smile, and he sees by the crinkles next to your eyes that it’s genuine and maybe you don’t hate him looking at your body as much as he’s been worrying you would.

You talk a little more but minutes later the conversation consists more of yawning than talking and Peter sobers up when he realises he will be sleeping next to you. It’s his first time sleeping in a woman’s bed, and he’s glad it’s yours.

He’s taken naps next to you and there was that one time you slept next to each other on the sofa, but this is different. You’re alone in your room, right next to each other, in one bed, sharing one blanket. He can feel the warmth of your half-naked body and before he knows it your familiar presence calms him down enough to fall asleep quickly.

*

When Peter wakes up next to you the following morning, it takes a few moments for it to all come back to him.

He knows there’s no way you slept with each other, Peter was kinda drunk, neither of you have even confessed any feelings and you wouldn’t have a one night stand the first time you have sex. 

But when he gently lifts the blanket, making sure he doesn’t wake you up, he’s met with the sight of your lovely belly and heavenly thighs, and Peter thinks from the outside it could look like you had sex. 

Not that anyone is going to see, but two hormonal college students, both half-naked, waking up next to each other.. It screams something obvious and that thing is not that you two are merely friends.

The thought of it alone makes Peter flustered and he shifts uncomfortably. His eyes widen when he realises that his morning wood is pushed right against your ass. He pulls his hips back as quickly as he can, waking you up in the process.

You’re facing away from him, and the first thing you notice is your and Peter’s interlaced hands. His cheeks warm up as he notices them too. His arm is resting above your head on the pillow, fingers next to your face where they’re loosely intertwined with yours.

He doesn’t remember waking up in the night, so you must have somehow ended up holding hands in your sleep, both finding your way to the other even while unconscious.

You squeeze his hand and twist your body to look at Peter’s face. “Hi,” you mumble, smiling sleepily.

“Hi,” Peter says, opening his mouth minimally just in case he has bad morning breath.

Your eyes flit across his face with a look he can’t decipher. “Goodnight,” you say a few seconds later and you lie back down in your tired daze, pushing against Peter and pulling his arm over your waist.

“Wait,” you turn around again, “Are you okay? Got a hangover or anything?”

“I’m good, thanks. Go back to sleep,” he smiles, partially because he knows you still need rest but also because he wants you to go back to sleep so he can take care of himself. It’s becoming painful how hard he is.

“Okay. But stay, you’re warm.”

He most definitely is warm, he knows he’s blushing like crazy.

You pull the blanket further up your body and scoot back against Peter, and the way your ass pushes against his crotch nearly makes him moan. He doesn't know how you're not noticing what's going on.

He scoots his hips back as far as he can and waits a few minutes until you’ve drifted off to sleep again. He carefully removes himself from you and goes to your bathroom. You have a bathtub, big enough for both of you, he thinks, with a showerhead on the wall.

Before he can even bring himself to care about the temperature, Peter turns on the water and pulls his clothes off in a hurry, wrapping a hand around himself before he’s even really in the shower.

He leans a hand against the wall, resting his head against it as his other hand speeds up, jerking himself off while he thinks about you in the other room. You, so pretty, so caring, so sexy in just your underwear and a short shirt. You, not knowing that Peter is about to cum in your shower, so close to you, thinking about you.

The water is only barely louder than the sound his hand makes against his cock, and he bites his lip to stop any moans from coming out.

Peter cums when he hears the squeaking of your bed; you’re getting up, you could walk in any second. While he cums, Peter’s mind wanders to you on your knees, his dick sliding in and out of your mouth as you look up at him with your gorgeous eyes.

He washes his cum off the bathroom tiles on the wall and tries to wash the guilty feeling off himself.

Suddenly the door opens slightly, “Hey can I come in? I won’t look, I just wanna brush my teeth.”

Peter makes sure to slide the shower door to the side so it’s covering him and he tells you to come in.

He peeks out of the shower and you smile at him through the mirror. He catches your eyes drifting lower but you can barely even make out the outline of Peter’s body through the frosted glass. 

Peter casts his own glance at you and how you’re still not wearing anything but panties and that short shirt. You stretch your arms, still trying to shake the tired feeling, and your shirt lifts so that Peter can already see the flesh of your tits. But you stop stretching just before your top lifts over your nipples and he quickly turns to look at the wall in the shower instead.

He quickly washes himself using your shower gel, maybe he’ll smell just like you now.

You hand Peter a towel just at the right moment and he wraps it around himself before stepping out of the shower.

“Wait, leave it on,” you tell him.

In his still horny brain a scenario plays out where you said that a few moments earlier and joined Peter in the shower.

This time you don’t tell him if it’s okay for him to look while you’re changing so he diverts his gaze before you slip out of your clothes.

You squeal when you get in the shower, “Peter, why is it so cold? What’s wrong with you?” 

He must not have realised how cold it was, but once he got into the shower he only cared about coming, and he blocked everything else out. By the time he was washing his body, he must have become used to the temperature already and didn’t notice.

Peter brushes his teeth with his second toothbrush that he’s got in your bathroom and quickly goes into your bedroom so he won’t be in the same room as you while you’re naked and he’s only got a towel wrapped around him.

You come out dressed in the clothes you took into the bathroom with you.

“Sorry that I used your shower,” Peter says, sitting on your bed with nothing but your towel.

“You’re welcome here whenever and welcome to use whatever, you know that. But showering that cold should be a crime,” you smile at him, “Should I get you some clothes?”

You go to Peter’s room to get clothes for him and he changes into them in your bathroom.

“I know it’s the weekend but can we get that assignment done today? I wanna go buy my vibrator soon,” you pout.

Peter forgot all about that. How is he supposed to study with you if he knows you’ll go out together to buy a sex toy after?

But somehow he manages. Well, you realise you can do it mostly by yourself once you properly start and Peter is only there for moral support (even though he’s the one who needs moral support; he doesn’t know how much longer he can pretend that he doesn’t have feelings for you, pretend that he didn’t just jerk off while thinking of you and pretend that it–by far–wasn’t the first time.)

“Hey, are you okay?” You ask Peter as you’re both on your way to buy your stupid vibrator that Peter would love to replace.

He doesn’t know what you’re talking about but your worried look tells him he looks exactly as nervous from the outside as he feels. He’s never been to a sex shop. Are they going to ID you? Are you going to meet someone you know? Is it going to be all dingy?

Normally, you’re like an anchor to Peter, your presence can make him feel comfortable in situations that would usually make him panic. But in this situation, you’re making him even antsier. Not in a way that he would describe as anxious but more like a, he’s scared he’ll get a boner any second. That’s always a risk when he’s with you but that risk quadruples when you’re going to a sex shop to buy a vibrator for yourself.

You stop Peter in his tracks and stand in front of him to wipe his sweaty forehead with your sleeve, his heart beating even faster now. “You know you don’t have to come in if it makes you that nervous. But it’s just a shop.”

“What? Yeah I’m fine, pff, like so fine. I’m just hot,” Peter says, watching your eyes go to the thick winter coat Peter is wearing. You’re wearing one too. Even in his jacket, Peter could do with a bit more warmth.

“Here,” you unzip his jacket, and even if it’s only to assist Peter with his stupid lie, you’re still undressing him. You’re not helping the boner risk decrease at all.

The shop is classy and clean and the employees leave you alone (unlike when you dragged Peter to Lush that one time and he was forced to try out bath bombs and oil that he didn’t know the purpose of).

Now he can tell you’re flustered too, just a little bit. Holding on to Peter’s arm the whole time, you find what you need, pay, and put your gloves on top of the packaged vibrator just in case anyone decides to look in your bag.

Even though it’s a Saturday afternoon, the shops aren’t busy so you go to look for some new clothes. Peter thinks you could wear a potato sack and you’d still look pretty, so he’s not the best judge when you come out of the dressing rooms to ask for his opinion on whatever clothes you’re trying on.

“This is so ugly, oh my god,” he hears you from inside the dressing room, laughing.

You pop your head out behind the curtain to make sure no one sees you as you show Peter a top that, yes–even on you, looks ugly. You still look gorgeous, that’s for sure, but even your perfect face and body can’t save the Shrek-coloured thing that is supposed to be a t-shirt.

“You know, you’re the only one who’s allowed to see me in something as ugly as this,” you say absentmindedly as you go back to try on something else and Peter’s heart beats faster at your words.

It might sound ridiculous to an outsider, but to Peter these little things mean the world.

He might not be able to tell if what you feel for him is platonic or more, but he knows you feel something for him. You feel a lot for him. He feels it every time you so much as look at him. 

With you, Peter feels loved.

The love you give him feels like it’s supposed to be for a lover, supposed to be for that one special person. And the lines between friendship and more are so blurry in your relationship that he can’t tell how much is spilling onto the romantic side already.

Peter contemplates paying for your new jeans but in the end, he’s too awkward (and too broke) in front of the cashier to interrupt when you get out your money. Besides things like cinema tickets, drinks and food, Peter has never paid for anything that you bought and it would feel very boyfriend-y.

You get food on your way home and by the time you’re in Peter’s room, it’s dark outside already. Peter was surprised that you even came to his room and when he keeps noticing you looking at the bag with your new toy in it, his assumption that you’d rather be doing something else now is confirmed.

You’ve been so casual when you talk about things like vibrators and getting off, but Peter has never had the courage to properly contribute anything to the conversation. But he decides to put on his big boy pants and before he can chicken out he nods towards his door and says, “Go on, try out your vibrator. I know you’re dying to.”

You give him a charming and apologetic smile, snatching your bag, ready to go. “I’d love to spend time with you, you know that but–”

“I know. But we have enough time for that tomorrow. Just don’t break your–” Don’t break what? Don’t break your pussy? Your clit? He’s never said any of those words out loud.

“I won’t,” you help him out and climb on the bed again to kiss his cheek, “I’ll see you tomorrow. Pancakes as always?”

“Pancakes as always,” Peter smiles, feeling himself blush, “Text me your review of the toy,” he says before you leave.

“I will,” you smile back at him, wave, and close the door.

Peter waits a few moments until he thinks you’ve arrived at your door. Are you going to throw yourself on your bed as soon as you get in? Shower first? Are you going to slowly take off all your clothes, caress your body to turn yourself on? Seduce yourself? Or are you going to push your pants down just a few inches and shove the vibrator between your legs?

Whatever you’re doing, thinking of any of those scenarios makes Peter hard immediately; that, and the tension from today that he can finally release.

He moves to the side of the bed that you were just lying on, and the sheets still smell like you.

Peter unbuckles his belt and pushes down his jeans, grabbing himself through his boxers and instantly feeling a sense of relief.

He imagines you lying in your bed, right now, two fingers between your legs. You’re so wet from being with Peter, the guy you’re into, all day, that your fingertips easily glide over your skin.

Peter shifts and runs his thumb over the head of his cock, spreading the precum. The warm, familiar pressure is already building up in Peter’s body, and he slides his fist up and down himself faster.

In Peter’s mind, you’re spreading your lips now, holding the vibrator against your clit. You jolt at the first contact and smile, knowing you’re about to feel nothing but bliss.

Your body relaxes and you let the vibration take over completely, chasing your orgasm that’s so close after only a minute. You throw your head back when you cum, your eyebrows scrunched together. Your legs start shaking once you can’t take it anymore, but you press the vibrator to your clit during the last few aftershocks.

Peter cums at the same time as you do in his imagination. He’s spilling over his abs and his hands, eyes screwed shut in pleasure.

He lies in his bed for a few more moments, sighing as he cleans up the mess he just made. He gets a message from you: Had a nice day btw :) Can’t wait to see you again tomorrow <3

He smiles and texts back, too exhausted to feel bad for what he just did.

Tomorrow will be the third day in a row that you’re spending time together and you’re showing no signs of getting tired of him. But at this rate, it seems like Peter will never know what being with you while you orgasm is actually like.

He can be patient, but he doesn’t know if he’s waiting for something that will never happen. 

He doesn’t even care about the sex, he just wants to hold your hand and know what it means, know that it means that you’re in a romantic relationship.

He’ll give you all the time you need, that’s all he can do. He simply can’t confess his feelings, he can plan on doing it and dream about it as much as he wants, but when he’s standing in front of you he can’t risk losing you.

Maybe one day he’ll be brave enough, and who knows, maybe you’re thinking the exact same thing right now, trying to be brave but you just can’t.

Maybe.

*

Peter knocks at your door the next day, ready to get pancakes like you always do on Sundays. There’s a lot of commotion behind the door and you take a while to open it.

“You’re early,” you say, hair messy and overall dishevelled.

“Am I? I don’t mind waiting,” Peter says.

“I’ve just quickly got to shower, you can go back to your room or wait here, whichever you want.”

“No problem, I’ll just wait here.” Peter feels as if that’s the wrong answer because you don’t exactly look thrilled that he’ll be in your room, but you still let him in with a small smile. He knows that you can’t be mad at him and by the time Peter’s on your bed and you're about to go to the bathroom, you’re giving him a genuine smile and say you won’t be long.

Peter gets out his phone as he hears you turning on the water and he drops to his back on your bed.

Just as he’s about to go on Instagram, he hears a quiet, mechanical whirring. He wouldn’t be able to pick up on it without his enhanced hearing.

He hears how you smack your hand over your mouth, but you’re not quick enough. Peter still heard a tiny moan.

So that’s why you didn’t want Peter coming in. You’ve probably been making yourself cum all night and you weren’t finished with the last round.

Peter sits up and tries to stick his fingers in his ears, but even if he can’t hear you anymore he’s still got the vivid image of you in his head, only a wall separating you two.

He stands up and looks for something to distract himself before he gets hard, but to make things even worse, Peter’s eyes land on a pair of panties next to your bed.

He feels like a perv as he picks them up. He can see your arousal still glistening in them, and it’s like they’re calling out Peter’s name.

He’s about to lift them to his face when he hears you turning off the water. Peter stuffs the panties into his jeans pocket quickly and out of reflex. He stiffly sits on your bed, unsure if he still has enough time to pull your underwear out of his pocket again and throw it under your bed. 

He’s too nervous to hear what you’re doing, his ears ringing, and before he can bring himself to quickly put your underwear back, you’re coming out of the bathroom, dressed and ready to go.

With your innocent rambling about college he manages to calm down but you and your stupid vibrator are still on his mind. But it’s a good thing that you two can talk about stuff like that, so maybe he’ll get his mind off it once he asks you about it.

“So, is it good?” He asks you as you slide into the booth at the place you always go to for pancakes.

“Is what good?”

“Your, your vibrator thing? You didn’t send me a review,” he says.

“Oh yeah, sorry,” you laugh, “It’s so good, oh my god. I’m so glad we don’t have roommates here cause I did it like six times last night. I get why people pay so much for it. I mean it’s supposed to simulate oral sex and I can’t imagine that it feels the same but I guess I’ll find out one day.”

“You always have me if you want to find out how it feels.”

He can only gather the courage to say that because of what you once said about sucking his dick for practice so you could suck Andrew’s dick for a better score. The only difference is that you turned out to be joking, but Peter is serious.

He probably sounds too serious too because you give him a questioning, “Huh?”

“Well- well I’m just saying if you wanna compare your toy to oral sex then I... you know... my tongue is available to you,” he says it exactly how it comes to his mind, unsure if he should make it sound more like a joke.

You laugh, declaring it a joke yourself, “Okay, thanks. You’re so cute.”

It’s not ideal but the fact that you’re not running away from him and gagging shows him that at least the thought of Peter going down on you doesn’t disgust you. The fact that you made a joke about going down on him first, even if that was weeks ago, gives Peter a tiny bit of hope that maybe his instinct has been right all this time. Maybe you do like him back and you just need a bit more time.

“Um, I heard that next week there’s going to be loads of shooting stars. I was thinking we could drive out of the city and go stargazing. I already asked James and he said we can take his car–the truck, it’s big enough for us to lie down in while we look at the sky, it’s going to be warmer next week too and–”

“I’d love to,” you grin.

He mirrors your smile immediately because it actually took a lot of convincing for Peter’s friend James to let Peter have his car. And more importantly, looking at the stars sounds very romantic. He wasn't sure if he should invite you to something so obviously romantic.

What if it makes you realise that Peter likes you and you distance yourself from him because you don’t feel the same?

What if you do feel the same, but you need your time and it’s too early for a date-like activity?

But what if... what if it’s just the right thing?

You hold hands, you’ve slept in a bed together, so Peter doubts you will be freaked out by stargazing. But Peter can already feel the butterflies just thinking about lying under the night sky with you, and what if you don’t?

But maybe Peter is ready for the risk after all. He’ll see if you’re enjoying yourself, try to see in your beautiful eyes if you’re as smitten as him. He's realised that he’ll have to try one day and now that you’ve agreed to his plan, it feels like this is the right timing, the right thing. Maybe he’ll even ask you how you feel, or make a comment about how romantic the situation is.

And if you and Peter belong together, then maybe it’s time for you. He certainly feels that he’s ready. He’s not expecting a kiss, he’s not expecting anything except the tiniest hint that a romantic night with Peter doesn’t leave you cold. That would be more than enough to keep him going for so many more months to come.

He can wait if you need time but he’s just one man and his passion for you burns so brightly inside him that he just needs something, no matter how small it is.

You two walk home, your bellies filled with pancakes and warmth from seeing your person. No matter if it’s platonic or romantic, Peter would be blind if he didn’t see that he makes you happy and how much you glow and grin and his presence. 

You hang out on campus for a bit more but you tell him you still need to study and you’ll see him tomorrow (he tries not to think about how you’re probably lying and are simply going to use your vibrator over and over).

Peter changes into sweats once he gets to his room and as he’s putting his jeans away he notices something pink peeking out of the pocket. Your panties. He completely forgot about them.

He carefully pulls them out, holding them like they’re a sacred treasure.

Making himself comfortable on his bed, he takes a deep breath before bringing your underwear up to his face.

He doesn’t know what he was expecting your arousal to smell like, not like this, but it’s even better. 

It smells heavenly, just like everything else about you.

He bunches your panties up in his hand and presses them against his face, inhaling your scent while he reaches a hand under his sweatpants and strokes himself. 

He’s been hard since he remembered he had your panties and he doesn’t even think about you making yourself wet, your smell alone has him coming undone within seconds.

He does it again before going to bed, this time wrapping the panties around his hand so he’s jerking himself off with them. He bites his t-shirt in an attempt to muffle his moans as the material slides up and down his cock.

He fucks his fist as hard and as fast as he can, his bed starting to squeak from the intensity of it.

Your wetness on your panties has long dried but the thought of your arousal so close to his dick has him–once again–reaching his orgasm pathetically fast. He sighs after he cums, examining the panties to make sure he pulled them away in time and there’s none of his cum on them.

He wants to save them for another time; as many times as they’ll still have your addicting smell on them.

He cleans the mess off himself, his cum ending up in a tissue that he throws into the trash can with all the other tissues. He’ll empty it before you come over the next time.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒆 ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★ﾟ:*:･｡

You’ve been driving for half an hour now, the city nothing but a few lights in the rearview mirror. 

You find a spot next to a field, not a soul to be seen anywhere near you. You get the blankets and snacks to make yourselves comfortable in the back of James’s pickup truck that Peter borrowed.

“Look,” you point towards the sky, but Peter misses the shooting star. He goes back to looking at your beautiful face, only to find your eyes already on him.

He feels your hand on the side of his face, pushing his head to face the sky again, “Look at the stars, not at me,” you say and he can hear the grin in your voice. You’re enjoying yourself, and that’s all that matters. You want him to enjoy himself too, not knowing that your face is so much more interesting to look at.

After a few moments of staring into the brightly lit sky–it never looks like this in the polluted city–he has to admit, the night sky isn’t bad either.

It only takes a few seconds until another shooting star races across the sky and you share an excited look, “Did you see that?” You ask.

“You’re supposed to make a wish,” Peter whispers, eyes closed as he wishes for a relationship with you.

You’re still looking at him when he opens his eyes, your gaze intense, eyes flitting across his face.

“Did you make a wish?” Peter asks. You nod and slowly divert your gaze towards the masterpiece of nature above you again.

He can’t shake the feeling that your wish also had something to do with him. Something romantic. He always overthinks and doubts himself but this is one thing he’s sure about.

But the moment is fleeting and Peter doesn’t find the words to say. You’re back to looking at the stars, and he doesn’t want to have to grab your face to kiss you.

He swallows down the disappointment and tries to enjoy the time with you, his dear friend. Not many people have a friendship like yours and at this moment he just tries to be grateful for that.

“Peter?” Your voice is quiet.

“Mhm?”

“I’m so glad we met,” you turn to your side, your whole body facing him now. He can hear the raw emotion in your voice, he thinks he can even see tears in your eyes. That’s what your shared love does to Peter too. He could cry just thinking about it.

“Me too,” he says, reaching for your hand, trying to bring the monstrosity of his feelings into words to let you know that nothing has made him as happy as meeting you, but the words won’t come out. 

“Our friendship means so much to me,” you say, and it stings. In this romantic moment, cuddled up beneath the stars, is that all Peter will ever be to you? A friend?

You continue, “I‘m sorry if I ruin it with what I‘m about to do.”

“What–”

You lean in and kiss Peter.

The world stops. Nothing matters, nothing but your lips on Peter’s. He always thought he’d be overcome with great excitement when you first kiss, an explosion of fireworks in his mind and his insides, but he feels at peace. It simply feels right.

“Did I just ruin our friendship?” You whisper, and it’s then that Peter realises that he barely kissed you back. He was too stunned to.

He puts his hands on your face and pulls you in, pressing his lips against yours over and over.

“You didn’t ruin our friendship, you turned it into something better, so much better. And you know that our friendship is hard to beat,” Peter says.

You let out a laugh of joy, “It is,” and you kiss him again, slinging your arms around his neck to pull him as close as you can.

Your lips are soft, so so soft, and even in the cold night, Peter feels warm because he has your body against his.

“Could you maybe uh… slap me?” Peter asks.

“Um, what?”

“Just so I know I’m not dreaming. Please.”

You pinch his cheek instead and you both smile. Peter’s not waking up. He’s already awake. It’s not a dream, this is actually happening.

The fireworks come after all, an explosion of happiness shooting through his chest when he realises that this is real.

He hugs you tight, as tight as he can without breaking you.

Peter’s heart drops when you pull away and tears stain your cheeks, “What-what’s wrong?” he asks.

“Nothing, nothing,” you put a hand on his chest, “I’m just so happy.” Your voice breaks as more tears rush down your face but your eyes are full of happiness.

Tonight, Peter was hoping for a hint that maybe in the future you see something more than friendship between you two too. What he got was all of you. A confession of your feelings, a raw exposure of your deepest emotions, vulnerability. But you trust him. And he’s so glad you do. He’ll do anything to make sure you’re happy and safe and comfortable. 

He starts crying too, just a few tears, either because he’s seeing you cry or because it’s the first time in his life that he’s ecstatic enough to experience happy tears—he’s been waiting for this for so long, unsure if it would ever even happen. All the doubt from the last months tumbles away – none of it matters anymore. You kissed him. 

“I really want to blow my nose but I don’t want to leave you,” Peter sniffles.

You look at him, “Go blow your nose, Peter.”

“Okay.”

“I have some tissues in my bag.”

You keep your hand on Peter’s leg while he reaches for your bag and half a minute later you’re reunited again with you lying in Peter’s arms.

You drove all the way to look at the stars but you can’t keep your eyes off each other, never going more than a minute without kissing. It takes a few more minutes for you to pretend that the stars are more interesting than Peter, and you straddle him once you decide you can’t go any longer without being as close to him as possible.

Peter wraps his arms around your waist, enjoying your weight on him. The kisses turn from pecks into something more, but it’s soft and unhurried. You’re taking your time with Peter, savouring the feel of him while Peter takes it all, takes all you give him.

Your wet mouths on each other is the only sound far and wide; even mother nature is quiet as you kiss Peter in the back of this truck, out in the country with no one else around.

You shift, your lips never leaving Peter’s, and start grinding against him, slowly.

He squeezes your waist harder as it becomes difficult to control himself. The only thing stopping him from ruining his pants is the fact that you’re both wearing jeans, so you’re narrowly missing Peter’s hardness, doing what feels good for you.

You stop abruptly with horror in your eyes and Peter strokes your back, “Everything okay? Why’d you stop?”

You look down, a bashful smile on your lips, “I didn’t realise I was doing that.”

Peter stops himself from groaning. He’s getting more turned on with every passing second.

“You don’t have to stop on my behalf.”

After two seconds of contemplation, you kiss Peter again, adjusting your position. You both gasp into each other’s mouths when you’ve perfectly aligned your bodies, and they start moving perfectly in tune with one another.

“I’ve been dreaming of having you on top of me for so long,” Peter says, hands now on your hips, feeling your every movement.

“And I’ve wanted to be on top of you.. for so long,” you’re distracted, pushing yourself up with your hands on Peter’s chest, your voice faltering as you hold in a moan.

Peter feels incredible – everything you do makes him feel incredible. 

So incredible that he doesn’t know how he hasn’t cum yet, but he’s trying so hard not to.

He nearly moans when you grab his hoodie harder and you whimper, “I’m so close.”

One hand is at your jeans, trying to undo the buttons but you can’t, too lost in pleasure.

“Peter, unbutton my jeans,” you say–or rather whimper, “Please.”

And even though he’s on the brink of coming, nothing matters more than your orgasm right now, so he quickly fumbles with the buttons and opens them, your hand disappearing down your pants immediately.

Peter grabs the backs of your thighs as you cum on top of him, your face more gorgeous than he could have ever imagined, so pretty and so vulnerable just for him. He cums at the same time as you, trying to hide it but his hips push up against yours nevertheless.

You let yourself fall to Peter’s side, hiking your leg up over his lap. Peter puts his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close.

“Did you uh..” you look up at him, half teasing him, half unsure if it even happened.

Peter drags a hand over his face, “Yeah… I.. came in my pants.”

“Oh,” you try not to laugh, “Sorry.”

He looks at you, “No, don’t apologise, that was one of the best moments of my life.”

You give him baby wipes from your bag while you pack the stuff and wait for him in the car. He reluctantly hands you the baby wipes when he gets in next to you, looking at your lap.

“What?” You ask.

“I’ve known how you smell for nearly a week now and I don’t know how much longer I can go without having a taste of you.” He’s thinking about your panties, safely stored in his room but they’ve lost even the last traces of your smell.

You follow Peter’s eyes towards your crotch and figure out what he’s talking about, “How… how do you know how I smell?” 

Shit. 

He forgot that you’re not supposed to know that. 

But maybe, subconsciously, he said it on purpose so he can get any secrets out before you two get serious. Or maybe he’s just a dumbass, but he’s trying to look at the bright side. He’s not capable of any negative feelings when you just kissed him.

“Peter?” You ask. You don’t sound mad, you’re just curious.

“I uh, I took a pair of underwear from your room,” he starts.

“The pink ones? I’ve been looking for them.”

“Yeah, they’re pink. And it was the day after you got that clit sucking toy thing so I kept imagining you using it and then the smell made it so much more real…” he says, head hanging low in shame. You still don’t sound mad or grossed out but you haven’t heard all of it yet.

“Go on.”

“I used your underwear to um… jerk off,” he doesn’t meet your eyes until he hears your next words.

“That’s kind of hot,” you bury a hand in his hair, looking at him like you want to eat him up.

“R-really? You’re not mad?”

You shake your head and lean over to kiss him and Peter feels his blush up to his ears.

“I do want my panties back though.”

He tells you you’ll get them back and starts the engine to drive back.

“Wait,” you say, “Didn’t you want a taste?”

He immediately stops the car and leans over. 

“I- well, I didn’t get a chance to get that wet but..”

“I’ll take anything,” Peter pleads.

You kiss his nose and unbutton your jeans, your fingers disappearing beneath them. He hears the wetness and is hard at once. And that’s when you didn’t have a chance to get that wet? You pull two glistening fingers out and bring them in front of his lips.

His cheeks heat up when he leans forward to take them into his mouth. 

He moans at the taste. Sweet yet tangy. He wants to bury his face in you immediately; but you seem tired and he’ll have plenty of opportunities to do that another time.

Peter pulls you close and kisses you, he’s not that good with words so he hopes his tongue in your mouth tells him how much he wants you. It doesn’t have to be now, he just wants you to know.

“I like you.” It slips out of Peter’s mouth when you pull away from the kiss but his words make you connect your lips to his again.

“I like you too,” you smile, nearly laughing because it should probably have been obvious to Peter as soon as you kissed him. Leaning back in your seat in content, you look at Peter with those beautiful eyes of yours. 

Those four little words could make him cry happy tears again but he pulls himself together when you turn on one of your favourite songs and he turns away when you use the baby wipes. 

Before he drives you two home, a thought pops into Peter’s head; a thought that he’s had time and time again and he has to make sure that you know exactly how he likes you.

“But I um… I want you to know that I really do like you, as a person, romantically. I– of course I enjoyed what just happened–you have no idea just how much–”

“I think it was obvious how much you enjoyed it, Peter,” you interrupt him with a teasing smile that makes him blush and stutter for a few seconds before he continues.

“So, while, of course, I’m into you sexually, the emotional and romantic part is so much more important to me, and I need you to know that. But I’ve had so many sexual thoughts about you and, now that I’ve told you that I had your underwear and everything–”

“So you feel bad that you’ve had sexual thoughts about me?” You sum it up and Peter closes his mouth and nods.

“Well, don’t. Peter, in the last month I’ve spent every minute away from you with my fingers between my legs, imagining–wishing they were yours. I’m glad I was not the only one, it’s nice to hear that you’ve been as affected as I’ve been.”

“Are you sure? Because I remember that time when you said how all guys on campus just think with their dicks and how I’m different from them but I’m really not that different. If I’m not thinking about hugging you or thinking about your smile, then I’m always thinking about getting in your pants. And that is a lot of the time. And I’m sure that, even if you’ve thought about me in that way too, I’ve thought about you way more and I just need to know if you think I’m a perv or something.”

“Peter, hey,” you cup his cheek, “I don’t think that. And you don’t think with your dick. You just said you’ve wanted me for months and you didn’t even kiss me. You’re the opposite of those guys that have nothing but sex on their minds so that they can’t even think straight and ruin friendships with girls. You didn’t do that. You thought about my and your feelings and about our connection rather than getting in my pants.”

“But I did think a lot about getting into your pants,” he sighs.

“I thought about you getting into my pants too. That’s fine. That’s the beauty of liking someone, there’s not just the romantic side but also the sexual side. But you didn’t let the sexual side control you and you cared about my feelings first and foremost. Don’t feel bad for thinking about having sex with me, I’m glad you do. But you do so much more than that. You’re nothing like those guys.”

“I’m not like the other guys?” Peter laughs and then kisses you. (He still can’t believe he’s been kissing you all night). You shake your head, reassuring him.

Hearing you say that helps him immensely. He never felt bad about imagining what having sex with you would be like. It was the fact that it was without your knowledge and he had no idea if you’d be grossed and creeped out if you knew about it because you only saw him as a friend. He was scared of making you uncomfortable if you ever found out.

But you’ve found out now and you’re not just saying that it’s okay for him to think about that, but that you have thoughts about it too. (And now his thoughts are going to be even better, knowing that you might be thinking the same thing as him and his fantasies might turn into more than just fantasies).

The journey back has both of you smiling; what just happened still seems unreal, but every shared grin reminds Peter that it really did happen.

It breaks Peter’s heart when he delivers you back to your room, but he can tell you need sleep and he’s not exactly wide awake either. You kiss him like you mean it and you don’t pull away until you’re breathless.

When he gets to his room, Peter quickly puts your panties in his laundry basket so he won’t forget, and then he throws himself onto his bed and squeals loudly. He doesn’t care if anyone hears, he’s happy and he doesn’t mind if people know.

He gets a message from his next-door neighbour Brian:

Bro, you okay?

I heard a weird noise

He texts back: Y/n kissed me :)))))

Brian: About time, happy for you!

Peter considers going over to talk to his friend and tell him all about tonight. He’s tired but there’s no way he’ll sleep now anyway.

He then gets a phone call from you, and he picks up immediately.

“Peter?”

His face drops at your unsure voice. Did you change your mind?

“Yeah?”

“Did… did that really happen?” He thinks he can hear something positive in your voice but it’s hard to tell over the phone.

“It did.”

“Oh,” you say, “Good. I’m having a hard time believing it actually happened. I’ve been waiting for so long.”

He smiles again immediately, “Trust me, it hasn’t fully sunken in yet for me either.”

“Do you maybe wanna come over?” You ask, “I know it’s late but it’s the weekend so..”

He jumps to his feet and sets off instantly, “I don’t know why we didn’t think of that before.”

You giggle, “Me neither. I guess I was tired, but I’ll just be thinking about you all night anyway.”

You stay on the phone with him until he’s at your door, pulling him in for a kiss before he’s even in your room.

You push Peter onto the bed, lie on top of him, and hug him so tight that he can barely breathe. This would be the best way to go.

You’re both exhausted yet excited and interrupt each other with a kiss every few minutes while you’re talking about anything that comes to your mind.

“How long have you liked me?” You ask.

Peter smiles as he thinks back to the first time you met, “You made me nervous from the start because you’re so pretty, and then we talked about such personal things the first time we met. But I didn’t realise just how attracted to you I was until class a few days later when you were laughing about Professor Garfield’s jokes and talking about his ass.”

You pout and cup Peter’s cheek, “And then later I even made that joke about sucking his dick for a better score. Aw no, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he shrugs, “You just came on top of me and not him.”

You hide your face in his neck at the reminder that you just nearly had sex with Peter outside. His hand rubs over your back as if he’s not blushing at the thought of it.

“When did you start liking me?” He asks and you lift your head again.

“I thought you were cute the first time I saw you and then when we talked in the kitchen I knew I’d have to keep you because I immediately felt comfortable around you. And then… I don’t know. You just did your thing. And then my heart did its thing too.”

“I’m glad my charm worked on you.”

“It worked wonders,” you push yourself up on your hands and kiss Peter again, staying on top of him for a while until his lips feel sore.

“But regardless of this romantic… and sexual side,” you shyly smile at each other, “I meant what I said. Our friendship means a lot to me. And I’m glad we became friends before anything else.”

“Me too.”

He knows what you mean. Being friends allowed you two to get comfortable around each other first without any pressure to do things to make you attractive to the other person. Now you have a solid base of trust and you know each other; you don’t have to worry about only showing your best sides like other couples do in the beginning stages. You know each other inside out, (except for the fact that you’ve liked each other for a while — but that’s different), the good, the bad, the ugly – yet you’re still choosing each other. Happily so. 

You both lie on your sides, Peter’s hand reaching over to rest on your hip. He can’t help but smile the whole time.

“Were you planning to kiss me? Or was it spontaneous?”

“I’ve been thinking about how it would feel to kiss you for months now, but for some reason it never occurred to me to make the first move. I was pretty sure you like me but the time went on and you didn’t make a move and I got scared that I’d ruin our friendship if I totally misinterpreted everything and you didn’t like me back. 

“And I would have never forgiven myself for that. But when we were lying in the back of that truck, underneath the stars, I don’t know, it was so romantic and you were looking at me with so much adoration that there’s no way I wouldn’t have kissed you. My heart was leading me, I only gathered the courage because my body did what it knew I had to do, I was not in control at that moment, but I guess sometimes it’s good to give up control. But it was definitely spontaneous.”

Peter leans down so his face is right in front of your chest and he whispers, “Thank you, heart,” to which he hears your gorgeous laugh. Your whole body moves with your giggles, pushing your chest even closer to his face. It takes a second for him to get the willpower to pull his face away again.

You connect your lips to his a few more times, Peter’s heart fluttering with every passing second.

“Just so you know, I have liked you all this time, you were right. But I felt the same as you and you’re the most important person to me so I didn’t want to take even the slightest risk when it came to us. There were times when I thought our friendship would even survive me confessing my feelings and you not feeling the same, but by not telling you there was always the hope that you did like me. 

“But if I told you and you didn’t feel the same, even if our friendship survived, it wouldn’t have mattered because it would have broken my heart into a million pieces. And I couldn’t put myself through that-”

“I’d never do that. I’ll take good care of your heart, Peter.”

“I know you will.”

You share a small kiss, Peter intertwining your hands.

“Okay, looking back, I probably should have known that you like me as more than a friend. Your love for my legs gave it away, but at the time I didn’t realise-”

“How do you know that I love your legs?” Peter asks as he turns red, looking at your thighs and resisting the urge to put his hand on one of them.

“When you were drunk, you told me how much you love them. You were basically drooling because of them.”

“Oh.. I don’t remember that. But I do love them.”

“I know,” you smile as you place one of his hands on your thigh and he squeezes the flesh.

You lie next to each other for a while, breath evening out and Peter thinks you’ve fallen asleep until he hears your voice, “Peter?”

“Yeah?”

“I still can‘t believe that this is actually happening. It‘s like when you‘re at a concert and you don‘t realise that you‘re seeing your favourite artist live and in person, and afterwards you still haven’t realised, and you never really get how lucky you were.”

Peter turns to his side to face you, his tired brain taking a while to answer, but he’s satisfied with what he says, “But a concert only happens once, and we‘ll be together forev— a long time. And longterm. We have plenty of time to realise that it‘s real. Maybe we‘ll realise if you kiss me again.”

You grin immediately and lean in to connect your mouth to Peter’s.

He understands what you’re saying, he can’t quite believe it either. It’s been too long for it to be a dream, he knows that it’s real, but it’ll take a few days for him to realise that he really is the luckiest person on earth. 

He’s grateful that you two have something so beautiful that it nearly feels impossible.

You touch each other for a bit, not sexually, you’re just touching each other’s skin, realising more and more that this is reality.

You lazily make out for a few more minutes until Peter drifts off into the most peaceful sleep he’s ever had, with you in his arms.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫 ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★ﾟ:*:･｡ 

It’s been a few weeks since that one eventful night and you’re spending even more time with each other than before. Making out with you has become Peter’s new hobby.

He loves that you’re experiencing all your sexual firsts together. You haven’t actually done anything more than kiss since the night under the stars, and he’s more than happy to be patient if you need it but he’s looking forward to more.

“Is it okay if we don’t go all the way yet?” You ask him while you’re both hydrating and eating fruit between makeout sessions, “I definitely want to soon, but maybe not… not yet.”

Peter pulls you on top of his lap and holds you, “We established that the very first time we met, didn’t we? Of course it’s okay if we wait.”

“Okay,” you kiss him, “I don’t mean that we can’t do anything though.”

Peter licks his lips when he realises you’re planning something. You push Peter’s chest so he lies on his back and you slot your hips over his. His eyes flutter shut when he feels your mouth on the special spot on his neck and you slowly start grinding on him.

He grabs your hips and opens his eyes again when you stop kissing him to focus on that sweet place between your legs rubbing against Peter.

You stop when your eyes meet, “You have to close your eyes.”

“I wanna see you though.”

“It’s different from the first time, we’re not out during the night. And the position’s uncomfortable.”

“Then let’s change it.”

He’s already hard and if you continue like that he won’t take much longer; but your pleasure is more important to him so he pulls his sweat shorts further up his leg and lifts you onto his thigh. 

Your eyes go down and you realise what he wants you to do, “But you–”

“Shh, this is about you right now, okay? And I’ll cum as soon as you do anyway so don’t worry about me. This okay?”

He sees how his words give you confidence and you nod, letting yourself fully sit down on his thigh. Peter knew he liked your pretty skirt for more than aesthetic reasons because the only thing between your warm pussy and Peter’s skin is your underwear. He could cum from the feeling of your wet heat through your panties alone, but he tries to focus on making you breathless with his kisses once you wrap your arms around his neck and pull his face close.

He holds you as you rock yourself on his thigh, becoming surer in your movements after a while, finding what feels best for you. Peter instinctively flexes the muscles in his thigh when you change your position slightly, and your little gasp tells him to continue doing it.

Your wetness slowly but surely drenches your panties and reaches Peter’s skin. You grab his shirt hard and bury your other hand in his hair, pulling. Peter tries bouncing his leg up and down and is rewarded with the sweetest moan coming from your mouth, followed by a gasp and a whispered: “I’m gonna cum.”

Your legs get weaker while you’re coming but, through his own approaching orgasm, Peter pushes your hips in whatever direction you want them to go and together you try to savour your highs for as long as possible. 

Out of breath, you’re still holding onto Peter tightly. As your hand in his hair slowly lets go, you press a kiss to his head, your hand on his shirt easing too as you smooth down the material.

“Sorry, did I hurt you?” You ask carefully but Peter shakes his head and purses his lips for you to give him a kiss, and you smile when you do.

“Oh, wait did you really cum?” You’re glancing down at the wet spot on his pants but your eyes widen when you get off him and realise how much you leaked onto his thigh yourself.

“I don’t know how I couldn’t cum when I have the prettiest, sexiest woman in the world having an orgasm on my lap.”

You lean your head against his shoulder, hiding your face from him while your cheeks heat up. You get off him and he goes to the bathroom to clean up.

You’re absentmindedly biting your lip when Peter comes back and he pulls you out of your daydream with a kiss.

“Do you wanna eat my pussy?”

Peter freezes for a second and then jumps onto the bed. You laugh, “Wait, I need a break first.”

“Okay,” he sits down next to you and swallows. He’s hard already just from the thought of going down on you. He couldn’t be happier that you want him to do it, he’s had daydreams (well, he’s mostly thought about it during nighttime) about it so many times.

“Do you want me to give you a massage?” He asks. It’s something you’ve done for him countless times and he doesn’t return the favour as often as he’d want to because your massages are heavenly and he can barely get up after.

“Yes please,” you lie down on your stomach, “But don’t stand on me.” You both chuckle.

Your massages consist of kneeling or standing on Peter’s back. It sounds painful but to him it’s the best thing he’s ever felt. He doesn’t just like your weight on his lap, he likes you on top of him in various scenarios.

He’s kneading your shoulders for about a minute when you suddenly sit up, “Okay, the break is over, can you eat me out now?”

A smile spreads over Peter’s face and you kiss him, a similar expression on your lips.

You get comfortable on your back and pull your shirt over your head and slip out of your skirt.

Peter sits between your legs, speechless, thumb rubbing over the large wet spot on your panties. You gasp when he touches you there but Peter can’t continue before showing you how much he loves your tits first. They're perfect.

He kisses his way up your stomach, inching further up until your nipple is in his mouth and your hand goes into his hair. He gets lost in the feeling of one of your boobs in his hand and the other one against his tongue until you push his head away.

He worries he’s hurt you but you whimper and spread your legs, pulling them up against your chest, “Please,” is all you can manage to say. Peter’s hands wander down your sides and between your legs, his fingers gliding over your panties.

Peter drags your underwear down your legs slowly, a string of your arousal staying connected to your panties momentarily. He licks his lips and kneels in front of the bed, pulling you to the edge of the mattress.

With your legs on his shoulders, Peter kisses your clit once, watching as your eyes flutter shut. He’s forgetting that this is your first time too, so your expectations probably aren’t too high. And you’re wet from your earlier orgasm and it seems to be doing wonders for you; you already start arching your back when Peter licks up and down your clit a few times.

He savours the taste of you on his tongue, sweeter than anything he’s ever tasted, and knowing that he’s tasting you because you’re wet for him makes things even better.

As he plays with your clit, his tongue in your pussy, he puts a hand on your stomach. It’s just because he doesn’t know where else to put his hand, but you grab some of his fingers, holding his hand and Peter’s convinced his eyes must be shaped like hearts right now. He’s always loved holding hands with you.

He makes out with your pussy, your juices all over his mouth, and he starts sucking your clit.

“Peter..” your voice comes out as a whimper and you grip his hand harder. You arch further into him and your eyes squeeze shut, and Peter can tell you’re coming – on his tongue, with his face between your legs, just like he’s imagined so many times but it’s so much better than what he ever could have wished for.

He only pulls his mouth away from you slowly, not wanting the moment to end. You don’t let go of his hand, instead using your intertwined fingers to pull him up so Peter can kiss you. 

You hug him like you never want to let him go again and Peter gladly complies. He wraps his arms around you and lies on top of you for as long as you’ll have him.

“I’m too tired to return the favour,” you say after a while.

“That’s okay. I just wanted to make you feel good.” 

He’s glad you said it because then you won’t need to find out that he came in his pants ages ago, yet again, and you don’t need to be reminded of what a loser your boyfriend can be and how you’re the opposite.

Peter lifts his head so you’re looking at each other, and you cup his cheeks to kiss him on the lips a few times.

“I’m getting cold,” you say.

“I’ll keep you warm.”

You smile and kiss his forehead, “I should get dressed. And I need to pee. But you can cuddle me again after.” Peter gets up and scoops you up in his arms, earning a squeal from you.

He carries you to the bathroom and even though he’s completely dressed and you’re naked and vulnerable, he can tell you’re content and comfortable by the way you drop your head to his shoulder and let him hold you.

You’re in the bathroom while gets the clothes you asked him to get from your room, but he changes first so he’s not walking around the student accommodation with a mess in his pants.

You’re sitting on the bed in all your naked glory when he gets back. He stares for a second, smiling softly as he realises how lucky he is to get to see you like this, that he’s the only one in the world who does and that you want him to see you like this.

It’s later in the night and you’re in bed, you sitting on top of Peter, kissing him. It’s not sexual; you’re enjoying each other’s company, touching each other, locking lips over and over and over. Peter couldn’t be happier. There’s a smile on his face the whole time.

“I like kissing you. Like a lot,” you say.

“I love kissing you.”

“Peter?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you wanna be my boy—”

“Girlfriend? Do you wanna be my girlfriend?” He interrupts you, somewhat surprised.

You grin and throw your arms around him, “Yes.”

“Sorry, I wanted to say it. After you made the first move I wanted to do this.”

“Everything okay?” You ask, realising he’s not telling you everything simply by looking at him.

“Well I don’t know, I kind of thought we were together already,” he says and your face softens.

“Oh. I mean we may as well have been. But we never properly talked about it. And just now I realised how sad I was that I couldn't officially call you my boyfriend, so I wanted to make sure that I could.”

“You’re right, now we have talked about it. And now it’s official. The most beautiful woman in the world is officially my girlfriend,” he beams as he cups your cheek and kisses you again. 

You lie down next to him, his arm around you as you cuddle into his side.

After a few moments of looking at Peter, you start giggling, as if you just remembered something funny or embarrassing about him.

“What?” He asks.

“Nothing just, I’m so into you, and you really weren’t sure if I liked you? I know we‘ve talked about how we were both too scared to ruin the friendship but we were both idiots. 

“I mean, I tried to give you the boldest, most obvious signs. I kept holding your hand, talked about me getting off. I changed in front of you, slept next to you half-naked? Peter, I said I’d suck your dick.”

“Yeah but it was only in relation to you sucking professor Garfield’s dick for a better mark.”

“Knowing me, do you think I’d really suck a professor’s dick to get a better score?”

He shrugs, “Well, not when you say it like that, no. But we didn’t know each other that well yet. And hearing the girl you like say she’ll suck another guy’s dick isn’t nice regardless of if she’s being serious or not.”

You pout and cup his face, kissing him a few times, “I only want your dick, promise.”

“And my dick only wants you,” he says, earning a small laugh from you.

“But seriously, I contemplated peeing while you were in the bathroom with me at that party. If there was an obvious sign that I liked you, it would be that,” you joke.

“Just so you know, you can pee in front of me. And as long as you’re okay with that, I’d also feel comfortable peeing in front of you.”

You scrunch up your face, “We’ll avoid it if we can.” You both laugh but you know it would be no big deal and you’d be comfortable with it. It sounds like a weird thing to bond over, but Peter thinks it’s sweet.

“Anyway, I know I brought it up but can we stop talking about peeing so you can go down on me again?”

Peter’s eyes light up, “Yes, yesyesyes,” and he starts kissing down your body.

*

“So,” Peter asks you a few days later, “You know how you said your sex toy is supposed to feel like oral sex? So who’s better? Me or the vibrator?”

You give him an exaggerated pout and scoot closer to him on the bed, ”Don’t make me hurt your feelings.”

You’ve just come back from a date Peter planned. You got take-out from your favourite restaurant and ate it next to the river that goes through the city. You walked for hours, holding hands, talking, getting ice cream and just being with each other.

While Peter loves going out with you, he’s not sure if anything can beat spending time alone with you, in your bed, utterly comfortable and being nothing but yourself. Not to mention that you two can have sex whenever you want to.

“I don’t mind if you say it’s the vibrator, I mean it’s made for making you feel good and I’m just some guy,” Peter says, “It’s literally called a clit-sucker.”

“Sex with you is better but if you’re comparing the toy with you sucking my clit, then the vibrator is better, yes,” you move to his lap and put your arms on his shoulders, linking your hands behind his head.

“Can I use it on you?”

You bite your lip when he says it, “There’s not much you can do, you just hold it against my clit.”

“I’d love to do that.”

You grin and start kissing him.

He flips you around so you’re under him. He slowly takes off all your clothes and you pull off his shirt. He can’t resist getting a taste of you before he starts, humming as he begins eating you out, tongue in your pussy and his thumb on your clit.

You whine when he stops but you both remember that you wanted to use your toy. He kisses his way up your body, your arousal on his lips.

“You’re so hot, I don’t know if I deserve you,” he whispers into your skin as he’s kissing your belly. You tug him up to you to kiss him with such intensity that tells him he deserves you, all of you. You’re made for each other. And you feel it too.

You reach into your bedside drawer and pull out your vibrator. Peter smiles as he spreads your legs and lies down between them.

“Like this?” He turns it on and you adjust the setting, lying back when Peter presses a kiss on your clit and places the toy on your pussy.

You put your hand over his, shifting it so it’s in the perfect place. He lifts one of your legs over his shoulder and rests his cheek against your other thigh, occasionally kissing the skin there. He brings his arm over your body, smoothing his hand over your tummy and grabbing one of your tits, playing with your nipple.

Your hands absentmindedly find his hair, burying your fingers in it as he tells you how pretty you are and how he wants you to cum.

You glance at Peter between your legs, smiling and laying your head back down on the pillow. A few moments later he notices your breathing changing and how your hips slightly buck up.

“I’m gonna cum,” you moan, your back arching, and Peter puts his hand over your lower belly to keep you down. Your hand tightens in his hair as frantic breaths and strangled sounds leave your mouth, not able to form any coherent sentence.

After a few seconds, Peter wants to pull the toy away, thinking you’re done, but you hold his hand in place until your legs shake and he feels your belly convulsing under his hand. You’re coming until your head drops to the side and you let go of both his hair and his hand so he pulls away the vibrator.

“Oh–God. That was the best orgasm I’ve ever had. Sorry if I hurt you,” your hand goes through his hair once more but he kisses your hand instead, “Don’t worry.”

You let your head fall back, your eyes not leaving Peter. The way you’re looking at him is nearly enough to make him cum right then and there, but he takes your hand and kisses you instead.

You wrap your legs around Peter’s waist and pull him as close as you can, “Can we go all the way? I feel so empty, I need you inside of me.”

Peter gulps at your words, pulling his hips away from yours so he doesn’t finish before you’ve even started. “Are you sure? Last week you said you wanted to wait.”

“Yeah, I am. I thought it would take me longer to be comfortable around you when I’m naked but I feel so good, and I like being naked in front of you. I like how you look at me and how it makes me feel,” you smile softly and kiss him.

“I like having you naked in front of me too.”

“I know, that’s why I’m so comfortable. And the fact that I want this so quickly shows me that it’s the right thing and also I just really really need you inside of me.”

“Oh my god,” he whispers, closing his eyes to refocus, “I have to get the condoms.”

“Make sure to hide this first,” your hands go to the front of his sweatpants and he playfully narrows his eyes at you because you know exactly that what you’re doing is not helping his situation.

After another kiss from you, he manages to pull himself away from you and hides his hardness as well as he can. He slips back into his shirt and runs to his room to get the condoms you two bought the other week just so you’d have them.

When he comes back you already have your fingers between your legs, “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.”

“Don’t apologise, baby,” Peter says before taking off his clothes in record time and joining you on the bed. 

You make out for a few minutes, forgetting everything else. His fingers wander to your pussy, playing with your clit until you can’t keep kissing him anymore, distracted by the pleasure.

He slips one finger into your pussy first, then two.

“Peter, it’s not enough,” you moan with a desperation in your voice that makes him even harder which, up to this point, felt impossible.

“‘M just checking you can take it, get you used to having something inside of you.”

You sigh into his mouth and give him the dirtiest kiss you ever have. “Just so you know.. I don’t know how long I’m gonna last,” he warns you, afraid of disappointing you.

“I don’t care, I just need you right now.”

“What if I cum immediately once I’m in you?”

You hold his face in your hands, “Fuck, Pete, that’s so hot. I want you to cum inside of me.”

“Don’t say that because I will.”

“Please, please, I’m ready,” you whisper.

“Wait, you mean with a condom right?”

You laugh and nod, kissing him on the nose.

“Okay, just checking,” he says, putting on the condom. 

You hold on to his neck as he lines himself up with you, feeling how wet you are. He pushes into you slowly, making sure you’re okay once he’s inside of you completely, “You okay?”

“Yeah, it feels even bigger inside of me.”

He blushes at you calling his dick big and runs a hand down your cheek, “Should I pull out?”

“No, no. Just give me a second.” 

You both take deep breaths once Peter starts rubbing your clit – you because you’re relaxing, Peter because he’s about to cum if he doesn’t focus.

He has you coming around his dick quickly. You press your chest against Peter’s when your back arches from the pleasure and you kiss the side of his face when you’re coming down from the high.

“Lift me up,” you tell him and you end up pushing Peter down on the bed, straddling his lap.

You place your hands on either side of Peter’s head, leaving him with your tits right in his face. You tell him to fuck you and with his hands on your hips, Peter slowly thrusts into you from below.

Your pussy squeezes him so tight, and you’re so warm, “Fuck, you feel so so good,” he groans. 

You start bouncing on him, meeting his thrusts halfway, now more used to him inside of you.

He closes his eyes, trying to think of something else but your quiet moans and your earlier words about wanting him to cum in you make him orgasm after a few more seconds.

He fucks you until he’s too exhausted to move and you grin down at him, both of you lying down to cuddle. 

You don’t say anything for a few minutes, both exhausted and content, only grinning at each other and occasionally giving the other a lazy kiss before you sit up on him again, your nipples right in front of his mouth.

He takes the opportunity to run his tongue around one, but you lean back, dazed, “No, no, you’ll make me horny again,” you smile, “And I don’t think I can take another orgasm right now.”

He kisses your sternum instead and picks you up in his arms so you can take a shower together.

Peter washes your body for you, taking his time to massage every part of you for a few seconds. He wants to spoil and pamper you and take as much work off your hands as he can. He knows you’d do the same for him.

Once you’re both clean, you stand under the water for a while, Peter’s arms around your waist, your back pulled to his chest. Your breathing is calm and your eyes are closed, completely relaxed against Peter.

“I came in here once,” Peter interrupts the silence.

You slowly open your eyes and turn around to face him, a smile making its way onto your face before it turns into a laugh, “What?”

“It was after that night when I got really drunk. I woke up with this perfect ass right against my crotch,” he squeezes one of your ass cheeks for emphasis. 

“You mean back when we were just friends?” You ask, pulling his arms around your body again, “That feels so long ago.”

“And at the same time like it was yesterday.” “Yeah,” you smile, “I probably would have helped you out if you’d asked.”

“Really?”

“I was already into you then and there’s no way I would have been able to–or wanted to–resist if I found out you were horny because of me. I was coming on my vibrator three times a day wishing it was you instead.”

Peter runs a hand over his face, remembering how scared he was that you’d never like him back, “I was wishing it was me too. I heard you that one time, when you were masturbating while I was waiting for you in there,” he nods his head towards the door to your room.

“You can’t blame me, you saw how that thing makes me cum,” you lean your head on his shoulder, hiding your embarrassment.

The moment you look down and see that Peter’s hard again, he stiffens even more.

“You’re getting harder from me looking at your dick?” You ask, licking your lips.

He nods, putting a hand around the back of your neck and gently pulling you towards him, kissing you to distract you from the blush creeping onto his cheeks.

While your teeth tug at Peter’s bottom lip, your hands smooth down his chest, over his faint happy trail and eventually you wrap your hand around his cock. He gasps at the first contact and opens his eyes, meeting your lust-filled gaze, “I can’t believe I haven’t done this before,” you say, starting to jerk him off with a slightly unsure look on your face.

“Is this okay?” You ask and Peter nods, “Show me how you do it,” you urge, lifting Peter’s hand to wrap it around your own.

With a firm grip, Peter guides your hand, “F-fuck,” is all he can manage to get out apart from a shaky breath. Your free hand runs across his chest, occasionally rubbing over his nipples, making him gasp. 

“I really need you to cum for me right now,” you whisper, looking down at your hand sliding up and down his dick. Your words make him groan and before he can prepare, waves of pleasure flow through him, his cum splashing all over your tummy. He can’t stop coming, especially not when you angle his cock further towards you, your belly now covered in him.

“Fuck,” you both moan at the same time and then you smile at each other. You step away from the spray of the shower, sliding a finger across your skin and sucking it into your mouth.

If he hadn’t already cum three times today, Peter would be hard in half a second. He shakes his head in disbelief, not sure what he did to ever deserve a girlfriend as sexy as you. He runs his thumb over your belly, picking up the rest of his cum on you and you open your mouth before he even asks you to.

He pushes it into your mouth slowly and you hum as he does it. Grabbing your face right after, he kisses you until neither of you can breathe. “Can I eat you out again now?”

You grin immediately, “Yes, but I’m tired.”

After you’ve dried off, he carries you to your bed, making sure you’re comfortable on it before his mouth disappears between your legs. He’s proud of how you grip his hair, grinding your pussy against his face and how you cum on his tongue.

He gets a notification on his phone just as he’s done kissing you after he made you cum. He ordered some food before you two went in the shower and it’s about to arrive.

“Go and get it, I can wait,” you tell him, but he makes sure to kiss your forehead and give you water and baby wipes before pulling on some clothes and rushing downstairs to get the food.

You eat it on your bed with a towel laid down to make sure nothing gets dirty. Peter likes how you randomly grab his hand while you’re eating or asking him to pass you your drink.

With some quiet music playing, you make yourselves comfortable in your bed, cuddling.

“Thank you,” you say, looking at him like he’s responsible for all good in the world.

“For what?”

“For everything. For taking care of me. For being you,” you slide your fingers between his. He picks up your intertwined hands and kisses yours, “It’s my pleasure. Thank you for being you, and for being with me.”

“There’s no one in the world I’d rather be with,” you lean over to kiss him, leaving your lips on his for a few seconds. “This white shirt looks so good on you, it’s my favourite,” you tell him, smoothing down the material and then resting your head on his chest.

“Thank you,” he wraps an arm around your shoulder, holding you tight, “You know what looks even better on me?”

“Me?” You ask, already knowing what Peter is going to say and he adores you for it.

“Yes,” he smiles, “You.”

“I like this position, I like hearing your heart beating so clearly,” you say, nuzzling up against him.

“And I like that I can feel a heartbeat as soon as I put my hand here,” Peter smirks, sliding a hand between your legs and immediately feeling the pulsating warmth, even through your panties.

“Don’t blame me for getting turned on when the man I love touches my pussy,” you say, grabbing Peter’s hand into yours and away from your underwear to stop you from getting horny.

It takes both of you a second to realise that you just said that you love him. Probably because you’ve both felt it for a while; first as friends, then as lovers. Even if no one’s said it yet, it was obvious.

“I love you too,” he says softly and that’s when you realise what you just said. You turn towards him and start grinning, meeting Peter’s own wide smile. You start littering his face with kisses until he holds your face in place to kiss your lips. It’s like you melt right into his mouth once your lips touch his.

You spend the rest of the night telling each other that you love the other, giggling and cuddling and kissing until the early morning hours.

  *

Peter wants to sit through this lecture with you on his lap when you get to the lecture hall one minute before the lesson starts and there are no two seats free next to each other.

But you two promised yourselves that you weren’t going to be that annoying couple that has to be together at all times, so you two sit at opposite sides of the room.

Peter’s stomach tingles with jealousy when he sees that you’re sitting next to a guy you know. Brandon. Peter remembers him from the day you and Peter met. When it was Peter’s turn to tell an embarrassing sex story and he had nothing to say, you told Brandon to tell his story instead, distracting everyone and saving Peter.

He smiles when he thinks back to it; who knew that you two would end up in love?

But he hears your giggle through the entire lecture hall, over all the over murmuring, and Peter frowns. He knows it’s stupid if not wrong to be jealous about something so trivial. He’s more than okay with you having a male friend as long as he’s a good person; Peter’s happy about every nice friend you have.

But he’s spent the last few months getting to know you inside and out and you never mentioned Brandon. Now you’re talking to him like you’re best friends. Okay, the thing that bothers Peter the most is that you apparently knew Brandon’s sex story before he told it to the whole party.

Why were you talking to Brandon about sex? And why did you never mention it to Peter?

He knows you’ve done nothing wrong, and it’s ridiculous that he feels like this over a story and you laughing at another man’s jokes. If he was sitting next to you, he’s sure he’d be fine, but it doesn’t help that you’re out of reach.

He’s more curious than jealous, or that’s what he’s trying to tell himself, knowing he has no right to feel this way about such a little thing.

He tries to accept the feeling, tries to focus on what Professor Garfield is saying but throughout the whole lecture Brandon is in the back of Peter’s mind.

By the end of the lesson, he’s more mad than anything else – mad at himself for being jealous. He doesn't want to turn into one of those possessive, toxic and controlling boyfriends. He trusts you and he should be okay with you having dozens of male friends.

He waits for you by the door when the lecture is over, and in the sea of students you and Brandon leave the room separately. Peter’s so focussed on Brandon that he only notices you standing next to him once you hold his hand.

“What’s wrong?” You ask immediately. Peter didn’t know he was being that obvious.

He doesn’t want to drag you into his unnecessary jealousy and insecurity. “No-nothing,” he presses his lips together in a smile and you walk him into a quiet corner.

“What is it?” You sit down and pat the seat next to you for Peter to sit down.

“Well. I don’t know. It’s just, we usually sit together in this class and then we didn’t get to sit together and then you ended up next to a guy you know and I just…” It’s the shortened and less embarrassing version.

You smile, half with pity and half out of amusement, but he knows you’re not trying to make fun of him. “You were jealous? Of Brandon?”

“I don’t know. Kinda. I‘d honestly rather have you look at Andrew’s ass than have you talk to Brandon and giggle at everything he says and–like, I don’t even know him and I just felt insecure because I didn’t feel like I was a part of it,” he looks down, taking a deep breath, “Sorry, of course I don’t mean it like that. Obviously it’s fine if you have male friends. I was just wondering why you haven’t told me about him, because I remember him from the party the first time we met and I realised you never brought him up. And then I got so into my head about being jealous that I felt even worse and now I can’t even tell the jealousy from the being-mad-at-myself apart.”

“Okay, take my hand,” you say, “I love you. And-”

“I love you too,” Peter grins instantly, leaning over to kiss you.

“So, I didn’t tell you about Brandon because I wasn’t thinking about him. If he was important to me I would have introduced you two ages ago. I didn't even realise I was in this class until today. I met him the same night I met you and I was talking to a group of people before we played that game where he told that sex story. But wait.. Peter,” you furrow your eyebrows, “So you remember the story Brandon told?”

“I remember that he told a story, but I was too busy looking at you and being grateful that you helped me out of the situation.”

“Well, his story was about the first time he had sex with his boyfriend. And they’re still together.”

“Oh,” Peter says, dumbfounded, “Now I feel even worse. Why was I so jealous about a guy who has a boyfriend?”

“Don’t beat yourself up about it. We’ve been attached at the hip lately, so of course we're not used to being apart. I’m sure we’ll get used to it in a few days. But you’re jealous for the first time and we’re already talking about it, I’m sure we’ll sort it out. I promise we’ll work it out together.”

He pecks your lips again, “Thank you. I think I was way more surprised about my jealousy than actually being jealous. I trust you and I love you and I do that more and more every day. It’s just that I want you so much that I assume every guy feels the same, because why wouldn’t they? Forgive me if I project that onto them and don’t trust them. But I trust you and that’s what matters and what I’ll try to rely on. I’m sorry for making such a big deal out of something small.”

“Don’t apologise, I’m glad you told me how you feel. You’re already not jealous anymore and you’re talking about it and working it out. That’s what matters. You recognise that it’s unreasonable but jealousy is a normal emotion.”

He gives you a small smile, already understanding himself better thanks to you. You’re right, jealousy is something everyone feels from time to time. He’ll learn how to deal with it, and now that he’s with you, feeling loved and appreciated, he can’t even imagine ever being jealous again. He can tell his love is reciprocated. He trusts you, and that’s all he needs.

You sit together for another while, smiling and saying goodbye when Professor Garfield walks past you. You wait until he’s turned around the corner to say, “Wait, what did you say about his ass earlier?”

Peter chuckles, “Oh, it’s nothing. Just the first time we had this lesson you said something about how nice his ass is.”

“Oh, now I remember. But your ass is the only ass I wanna look at now, you know that?” 

“Really?”

“Really. I wouldn’t have asked you to be my boyfriend if I was interested in anyone else’s ass.”

There’s a comfortable warmth in Peter’s chest at you calling him his boyfriend. He’ll always be happy to be that.

“Well,” he thinks out loud, “There are some guys with nice asses, I can’t deny that. But then we can both admire them, okay? Together.”

You laugh, “You’re so cute. Okay, I’ll let you know when I see a nice ass and we’ll appreciate it together.”

“Good,” Peter smiles, okay with you liking other people’s asses because, after all, those asses don’t have this great connection with you like he does. He’s so much to you than a person with a cute ass.

“But your ass is the nicest,” he adds.

“Thank you," you laugh and kiss his cheek.

You lean back on your hands and tilt your head towards your shoulder. This time Peter feels warmth rushing elsewhere.

“You wanna know what I was thinking about during the whole lesson?”

He nods.

“I was thinking,” you look around to make sure no one else is close enough to hear, “about how I can’t wait to have your dick in my mouth.”

Peter’s heart starts beating twice as fast as it usually does, “My-my- my dick? In your- why would— do you want it to be in your mouth?”

“I do. I had a dream about it last night. And I was gonna wait until tonight to do it but maybe we should do it now to relax you.”

“I.. don’t know if relax is the right word,” he says.

“I’ll do it to show you that I only like you then. And because I really need you.”

Peter’s face falls, “No, shit, I have this class now… no, nevermind, let’s go to my room–”

“No, we said our education and college come first, and that we wouldn’t let our academic performance fall off because of each other.”

“Yeah but I didn’t know that that meant saying no to you…” he looks at his lap and back at you again. 

“To me sucking your dick?” You’re teasing him on purpose now but despite the uncomfortable strain in his pants he’s enjoying it.

“Y-yeah..”

“Go to your class now and I’ll see you tonight,” you kiss him and get up.

“No wait–”

“Bye, baby,” you call out and walk away.

A class has never lasted as long as Peter’s next class. He leaves his bunched up hoodie on his lap the whole time even though he’s cold in just the shirt he’s wearing.

After class, he runs home, going to his dorm room first but you’re not there so he rushes to your room instead. You open the door as if Peter hasn’t been suffering for the past two hours, giving him a quick kiss and sitting back down to read a book.

He gets on his knees in front of you, putting his hands on your thighs, “Please. You can’t be serious right now. I need you.”

You pat the bed next to you and he lies down with a sigh, hoping to get your attention but you keep reading; maybe he can take a nap to make the time pass quicker. You pretend to read for another minute or two and then grin at Peter and straddle him, starting to kiss him. 

“Sorry, I thought it would be fun to tease you but I don’t know what I was thinking. I really want you.”

He’s panting into your mouth after a few moments, already feeling relief as you pull at his belt, taking off Peter’s pants and your and his shirt.

“Let me know uh, how I’m doing,” you say as you get down on your knees in front of the bed.

Your words clear Peter’s mind for a second and he leans down to give you a kiss, “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, by the way.”

You shake your head, “No, I really want to. I just don’t know what to do, so, be patient with me.”

“Always,” he reaches for your hand to kiss it, “So I guess you just– oh my god.” He moans as your mouth wraps around him, all wet and warm.

He makes the mistake of looking at you, the head of his cock in your mouth, your pretty lips against his skin, eyes big and gorgeous and so innocent. He’s close so quickly and motions for you to stop.

“Everything okay?” You ask, already knowing what’s going on though. Peter’s eyes go to your chest, perfect tits pushed together by a pretty bra. If you take that off he doesn’t want to know how fast he’ll cum.

“Yes, more than okay. I love you so much, you know that?”

“I do, but Peter, this is torture for me,” you say seriously.

“What?” He sits up straighter.

“I wanna make you cum so so bad, please just let me, I don’t care how long you last.” You sound so horny that it makes Peter’s cock just that much harder in the way only happens when he’s with you, never when he’s alone.

“Okay. But try to go slow, I wanna enjoy it as long as I can.”

You smirk and he already knows you’ll give it your all, but while he wants to enjoy it as long as possible, he also really wants to cum.

You wrap a hand around him, slapping his dick against your tongue a few times, putting on a show for him. But once you wrap your lips around him, there’s no stopping you.

Peter’s skin glistens with a mixture of your spit and his precum and you keep taking him deeper and deeper until all of him disappears in your mouth. “Fuuuck,” he groans, huffing with a smile, accepting that he’s about to cum.

You start going faster, your wet mouth making a loud, obscene sound against his skin. Peter lies down on his back, barely able to keep his noises in.

“God– oh my god. This is the best thing I’ve ever felt,” his mouth falls open as he cranes his neck to look at you taking his dick. He puts a hand on your head, feeling your every movement up and down his cock.

He cums right down your throat as soon you start moaning, mouth stuffed full of Peter’s dick. You taste the first few drops and then jerk him off so his cum lands on your cheek and the sight is so dirty yet so beautiful.

You’re both panting when Peter is finished and you’re smiling at each other, in silent agreement that that was one of the hottest things you two have ever experienced. Your smile has something shy to it too, unsure how you look with Peter’s cum on your face.

But he’s looking at you with pure admiration, not believing how lucky he is for a bit before pulling you up to kiss you.

“Wait, Pete, you’ll get cu–”

“I don’t care.”

He kisses your mouth, and tasting himself on you is the sexiest thing in the world. He kisses his cum off your skin, connecting your lips afterwards, his tongue in your mouth until the cum is gone.

He wipes his mouth, asking something he’s been thinking about for a while, and he can’t go a second longer without it. “Do you wanna sit on my face?”

You’re taking off your clothes before the question even fully leaves his mouth and he takes in the sight of the prettiest woman alive getting undressed in front of him, for him.

He licks his lips when you slip out of your panties, the holy place between your legs shiny with arousal that’s started running down your thighs.

“You’re so wet.. from going down on me?” He asks, grabbing your thighs as you come closer, straddling him.

You simply nod and while you’re making your way up Peter’s body there’s a moment where your eyes meet for more than a few seconds. You don’t say anything, there’s just mutual appreciation and adoration for one another.

This is something good. Maybe it’s the best thing in the world. It is the best thing in the world.

“I love you,” he says, feeling so much more than those three simple words.

“I love you,” you say, your eyes holding such intensity that he doesn’t think there’s a single person in the world who has ever been as loved as Peter is by you.

He hopes he’s making you feel like the Goddess he sees you as, he adores every inch of you, all the things you’ve ever said to him and every second he’s spent with you.

The moment feels like it goes on forever, and at some point, you both move your heads towards each other, lips meeting in a kiss.

He grabs your ass, ready to drown in your pussy and to make you cum as many times as you want.

“Can I…?” You ask as you lower yourself. 

Peter pulls you towards his face and makes love to you all night. 

You spend the rest of the weekend in each other’s arms, feeling like the luckiest people on earth and you probably are.

☆.｡.:*support a writer and reblog if you enjoyed, it helps out a lot.｡.:*☆

#peter parker x reader #peter parker smut #Peter Parker x you #Peter Parker x y/n #Spiderman x reader #Spiderman smut #peter parker fluff #fem!reader #college!Peter Parker #Peter Parker fanfiction #spider man: no way home #peter parker #tom holland #Peter Parker college au #peter parker friends to lovers

[shellshocklove]

crush | peter parker

pairing/au: college au – frat!peter parker x female!reader

summary: you accidently learn peter parker's secret

warnings: swearing, fwb relationship

word count: 1.2k

a/n: trying my hand at frat!peter parker since it’s the new craze with a little ficlet lmao. i don’t know what i’m doing and i had no plot or plan for this. i’ve set the pairing as female!reader, but it can be read as gn!reader. i’ve only done it like that in case i would want to write more for this later. anyways happy reading <3

main masterlist / ao3

Peter’s bedroom window moaned and complained as Peter pushed it open. He was tempting fate, but what else was new. The music coming from downstairs vibrated through the brick underneath his hand. Climbing through the window, he hit the floor with a soft thump!

The summer had been long, dank and sweaty, but now the evenings had started to bite. Living at the frat throughout the summer had made Peter lonely. His frat brothers all jetted away – scattered like dice across the world – while Peter stayed put in the old brick house.

The frat house was made for noise, not silence, he’d realized after a few weeks. Every noise he made amplified somehow, like the house fed on the sounds. He’d never noticed how loud his footsteps was; or how the clicking of the metal spoon against his coffee mug bounced against the wall, until he was alone. It was unsettling, and wrong. The music that now moved under the floorboard, and the sounds of people over it, put Peter at ease. With the start of the new fall semester, and his brothers finally back, the house was fed again.

Peter never saw himself in a fraternity. He was working on a degree in biophysics trying to balance classes with his late-night vigilantism ­– he didn’t exactly have much free time. But he’d kinda just fell into it. One night when he’d missed Uncle Ben too much, he’d fallen down a baseball rabbit hole on Youtube. He watched pitcher reels, and top ten craziest moments, and had gotten a ridiculous idea. He tried out for the baseball team at ESU – careful to not to run too fast or hit the baseball out the park – but still they’d wanted him. Peter Parker, a recovering nerd, played college baseball. One thing had led to another, and soon enough he’d been accepted into Zeta Kappa – the captain of the baseball team’s fraternity.

With a sigh Peter pulled off his mask, he was dead tired. He’d had to cut tonight’s patrol short after running out of webs. Everything had been just a little too much lately and he’d forgotten to make new web fluid for his web shooters. After a failed attempt at swinging down a crowded street, he’d fallen face down on a busy street.

He’d played it off as smoothly as possible, hiding the bruise to his ego as he’d instead interacted with some of the passers-by. Spider-Man had handed out lots of high fives tonight. Climbing the wall of some building he’d had to run across the roofs of New York city to get back home. He was exhausted to say the least, dying to feel the softness of his bedsheets against his skin.

Waltzing over to his desk, he rummaged through one of the drawers for his emergency stash of web fluid. Occupied with refilling his web shooters, he missed the creak of the floorboard behind him.

“Holy shit!”

Frozen dead in his tracks, fear sank to his stomach. He didn’t know what to do; if he turned around, he’d be busted, but he couldn’t turn his back forever – he couldn’t do that to you, could he?

His eyes flicked to the corkboard over his desk, to the polaroid he’d taken of you only a few weeks ago after you’d convinced him to go take you swimming. You’d begged and whined, “Peter! Please, please, pretty please!” and he’d folded. It had been the last real day of summer, and together you’d snuck into one of those fancy hotels with a rooftop pool. As soon as you’d dipped your feet in the water, a big smile spread across your face, a smile that, to Peter’s horrifying realization, had tugged on his heartstrings.

It was supposed to be casual, the thing between the two of you, just something so you both could fill that void inside screaming out for intimacy. Peter didn’t have time for a relationship. This was perfect, almost.

“Peter?”

Your voice was barely a whisper, almost cautious, like he was a shaking bunny you were afraid of scaring. His head fell, eyes scanning over the worn wood of his desk. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He’d told himself he was gonna keep you at arm’s length, not in the crook.  

“Don’t tell anyone, please.” The words fell from his lips, a coldness coating them.

He could feel you move behind him, light feet shuffling with nervousness. “I won’t, Peter, I won’t– I swear!”

With a sigh, Peter turned around. He looked you up and down. You were dressed nicely – dressed for the party howling downstairs. He tried to ignore the way you looked at him. It always hit him too hard, made him want to crush your lips with his own, wrap himself up in you and never untangle. You were dangerous.

“I’m sorry… I looked for you at the party but couldn’t find you– so then I figured I’d wait for you in your room, and…” you trailed off, the rest was self-explanatory.

With a huff Peter started moving about his room. He pulled some sweats from his closet and vanished through the door to the bathroom. It was like he needed to get rid of the evidence. He couldn’t talk to you before it was gone. Back inside his bedroom, he ignored the way you sat at the edge of his bed, hands folded in your lap. He put his suit away, hiding it in the back of his closet.

“Let’s forget about this,” he turned around to look at you, a mistake. He watched the way your body sank into the mattress, mirroring the way his heart sank in his chest as he uttered his next words, “and maybe we should just forget about everything else.”

Your face was hard to decipher, it shuffled through an arrangement of emotions: confusion, hurt, anger. All the same emotions Peter tried to hold back.

“I…” you tried to say, “a-are you sure, I mean–”

“I’m sure,” Peter stressed, “this didn’t mean anything right? It was just sex…”,

“Right,” you nodded slowly, like you were still processing, “it was just sex.”

“It didn’t mean anything.” The words felt like they were stuck in the back of his throat.

The look you gave him, cut him across his chest, sliced away at his skin until it reached his heart. “Let’s not pretend it did…”

“No, let’s not,” you glared at him, and Peter could feel a pressure behind his eyes.

“And don’t say anything about me and…” he cocked his head in the direction of his closet, “If anyone knew you knew– it would put you in danger and I don’t want to put you in danger.” It was probably the most honest thing he’d said to you all night.

You rolled your eyes at him, and quickly stood to your feet. He watched how you clenched and unclenched your fist, keeping your quiet rage under control. You shook your head in disbelief, probably wondering why you’d wasted so many months of your life on a loser like him.

Peter hated to do this to you. He wanted only your love. To live with it inside and give his love to you. But that was a selfish thought. He couldn’t do that to you, he couldn’t love you the way you deserved.

One lonely tear escaped you, and it broke Peter’s heart.

“You know what,” you tried to hiss but the sadness in your voice dimmed the bite, “Fuck you, Peter!”

Gathering yourself, you gave him one last look before you slammed the door in his face.

i hope you liked this! <3 please let me know what you thought of this little story. i would love to hear them in the tags, or a comment or through my ask box! <3

tags: @hollandweather

#peter parker #tom holland #andrew garfield #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfic #peter parker angst #frat!peter parker #college au #university au #tom holland x reader #andrew garfield x reader #*writing

[spideyobsessed]

Just Another Trope || T.H

college!tom x reader

Chapter 5: Friends to…

Synopsis: You and Tom finally discuss that night.

series masterlist

It’s been three days since you and Tom shared your heated kiss. You’re not proud to admit that you’ve been avoiding him since that happened.

In some karmic way, a good night’s sleep has been avoiding you for the same amount of time. The butterflies in your stomach drown in guilt. How could you kiss Tom knowing you have feelings for someone else? Unless… maybe your feelings for Harry aren’t as strong as you thought they were.

You can’t seem to shake the warm feeling that surges through your chest when you think of Tom’s lips pressing against yours. The way his hands roamed around your body so confidently made you feel desired. It made you feel safe. Not to mention the entire day he planned perfectly, just for you. He’s made you feel things that no one else has. But was any of that real to him? Do you really feel that way or are you deprived of affection?

You’ve never been so horribly thrown for a loop. You have always been the smart kid, you can figure out anything within minutes. Unfortunately, there are no textbooks or lessons on how to decipher your feelings. There technically is, but can you really afford a therapist? With a groan, you roll over to check your phone after another restless night.

“Fuck!” You shout.

Your philosophy class starts in 5 minutes. You spring out of bed and grab your backpack, not bothering to change out of your pajamas. It was relatively vacant everywhere you turned, considering only maniacs like yourself take morning classes.

Every step you take hurts your feet since you didn’t stop to put on shoes, but you continue to run as fast as you can through all the sticks and leaves. You manage to turn what’s usually a 15 minute walk into a 3 minute run. You burst through the doors of the building and quickly round a corner, your socks causing you to drift because of the momentum.

A handful of people walk past you in the opposite direction. You ignore their strange looks and continue to zigzag through them all. Right as the classroom door was finally in sight, you feel a familiar arm wrap around your waist.

“Woah there, speed racer. I didn’t realize track tryouts were today.” Tom chuckles.

You push yourself out of his hold and keep on fast walking towards the door, “Not now Tom, I’m late for class.”

“Class is cancelled today. The professor is out sick.” He finally chooses to inform you.

The exhaustion must still be weighing on you as it was hard to process what Tom just said. You furrow your brows, glancing between him and the door.

“But she never cancels without emailing us.” You insist, still confused and now a little worried.

Just then, your phone chimes and you see the professor’s notification. Of course you would get the email later than everyone else. You let out a huff, still a bit shaky from the abrupt adrenaline rush. As you reel yourself back to reality, you begin to notice the snickers from the some of the students passing by. The snickers coming from Jamie, to be more specific, along with two guys from the soccer team. You can’t remember their names.

“Hey, Tommy!” She gushes. “Y/n. Nice…pjs.” Jamie laughs again.

The taller, more lean boy with chestnut colored hair practically undresses you with his eyes. You suddenly become increasingly aware that you’re wearing a rather revealing tank top. You cross your arms over your chest in order to shield yourself the best you can.

“Yeah, really nice.” He comments with a wink.

Before a grimace can entirely cover your face, Tom steps in between you and the other three. He gives the taller boy a warning shove, “Stop looking at her.” He growls in a voice so low you would think he’s a completely different person.

“Sorry.” The boy cowers as his friend chuckles nervously beside him, making sure he also keeps his eyes on anything but you. “It was just a joke.”

“Yeah.” Tom muttered, clearly unconvinced. With his fists balled, he slowly backs towards you enough so that he’s guarding your body with his.

“What do you assholes want?” Tom spits.

The two boys glance at each other and seem to telepathically agree not to mutter another word. They both silently avert their eyes to their shoes.

A scoff comes from Jamie as she steps a little closer to Tom with a wide grin so fake you can buy it at a grocery store. Her eyes flicker to you. For a slight second, you can see the pure hatred she has reserved for you set ablaze in her eyes. You turn your attention to another group of students on the opposite end of the hallway, hoping she won’t talk to you.

“We were just discussing your big playoffs celebration! The boys over at Phi Beta Sigma agreed to let us use their place for the party.” She explains.

“Don’t we have to actually win and get into the playoffs first before we can celebrate that?” Tom grumbles.

Jamie chuckles awkwardly, expecting Tom to be as excited as they were. “Um well yeah, silly. We just want to be prepared. There’s no doubt we’ll advance tonight, if you’re on the field.” She bats her eyes.

Tom instinctively looks at you for reassurance, knowing that whether or not he’s playing in the big game depends on his grades. You smile softly at him and give him to slightest encouraging nod.

“You will be on the field, right?” Jamie speaks up again, “Or is tutoring not going so well.” Her eyes are back on you.

This girl is starting to wear your patience thin. She has no right to be passive aggressive towards you just because she has a little crush on Tom. You want to say something to her so badly, but you know that’s a battle you couldn’t win. As always, you stand there in silence, momentarily satisfied knowing that her brain would implode if she ever found out about what you and Tom did the other night.

“Shit. We still need to talk about that.” You think to yourself.

“Y/n is an amazing tutor. I’ll be fine.” Tom defends you, despite not being too confident in himself. A rush of heat simmers your cheeks, especially after watching him get so protective over you. You’re thankful he knows when you’re too anxious to speak for yourself.

With her Malibu Barbie smile still pinned on her lips, Jamie nods curtly in your direction, “Let’s hope so.”

“Well if you’ll excuse us, that’s actually what were on our way to do— study. So uh…” Tom trails off, wishing they would take the hint already and leave you two alone.

“Oh. Okay. Well, I’ll see you tonight, Tommy.” Jamie says as she rubs Tom’s bicep. She yanks him down to her height and begins to whisper something in his ear.

You physically can’t stop the expression on your face when you witness this. Goosebumps spread up and down his arms as she smirks and pulls away. Tom doesn’t say a word, but you can see the tips of his ears turning bright red as he clears his throat continuously. It’s taking everything in you to convince yourself that you don’t care.

Jamie makes a loud popping sound with her lips as the two boys snicker behind her. “Bye Y/n. I’m glad to see the bruises are clearing up.” She snarks, referring to the two black eyes that she gave you.

You roll your eyes, but don’t say anything. Instead you let them walk away, laughing quietly to themselves. Meanwhile, Tom stands there frozen for a few more seconds before shaking his head and taking off his hoodie. As if nothing happened, he turns to face you with that contagious smile of his.

“You can wear this, if you’d like.” He offers.

Your eyes glance between his hoodie and the cute look on his face, and you reluctantly take it from him. “So what was that all about?” You cut to the chase as you pull the hoodie over your head.

“Just them being… them.” Tom scoffs, pretending he didn’t know you were asking about whatever Jamie told him.

You have no reason to be jealous. It’s not like you’re dating him. You have feelings for Harry and maybe there is going on between him and Malibu Barbie. After taking a quick deep breath, you unclench your jaw and drop the oncoming attitude.

“Hm just them being them. Just Harrison being Harrison. Secrets, secrets are no fun, Tommy.” You decide to tease.

He chuckles, “You want to know one of my secrets?”

“Tell me.”

Tom take a step closer to you. So close that the smell of his cologne wraps around your nose like a blanket. You’re nearly chest to chest, and you swear you can see his heartbeat thumping through his very thin, very tight t-shirt. It hugs his muscles perfectly. You can see the glistening dampness in his hair, most likely from taking an early morning shower. Flashbacks from the night you kissed begin to play in your head, and you have to fight back the instinct to bring him in for another one.

He only has to speak above a whisper for you to hear him loud and clear. “I think you look very good in my clothes. You should wear them more often.”

You gulp harshly as Tom shamelessly let’s his eyes bounce between your eyes and your lips with such an innocent grin on his face. The way you’re so easily flustered satisfies him like no other.

“It’s no secret that I look good, Thomas.” You clear your throat and hastily take a step back before you do something you regret. Again.

He chuckles, “I guess it’s not. Which is why I would love if you wore my extra jersey to the game tonight.” His smile falters and he adds, “Assuming I get to play.”

Your knees become weak as you feel your heart drop to your stomach. “You want me to wear your jersey?” You ask, damning yourself for the shakiness in your voice.

“Yeah! It’s just another tradition. Gen and the rest of the partners you met will be wearing them too.” Tom explains. “It’s sort of for good luck.”

He notices your indifference and quickly backtracks, “It’s not a trick question by the way. No pressure. I just thought who better to wear my jersey than my partner in crime.” He physically cringes at himself and awkwardly bumps your shoulder with his fist.

You chuckle tensely, still unable to find the right words to say. It’s difficult when you know there’s a giant elephant in the room that both of you are actively ignoring. As much as you and Tom talk to one another, the topic of romantic interests is rarely discussed. When it is, you both give short answers that lead to a dead end and a change of subject. Neither of you have spoken one word about your feelings or non-feelings for the other. So once again, miscommunication and obliviousness is the true villain.

Eventually you decide on, “I’ll definitely think about it.” with an equally awkward shoulder bump to lighten the mood.

For the first time ever, neither of you can think of what to say. This is more shocking for Tom than it is for you. He can see that something is bothering you, but he can’t exactly pinpoint what it is. Did Jamie get under your skin? Did his teammate make you that uncomfortable? Or could it possibly be the same reason you haven’t so much as sent him a measly emoji for the past 3 days?

Tom can’t kid himself. He knows exactly what’s wrong. What he doesn’t understand is why that’s what’s wrong. You’re the one that asked him to kiss you, but he can’t help feeling like maybe there’s something he did. Tom has thought about it so much, the details begin to get fuzzy. Maybe he was the one that escalated things. What if you just wanted a small peck? What if you’re upset because of how abruptly he left?

For three whole days, this is all he could think about. Like a scratched record, over and over and over again. How did he ruin something before it even began?

You clear your throat, “Alright, um, I guess I’m going back to my room now. I should probably catch up on some sleep.”

Tom know he needs to talk to you. He quickly spits out the first thing that pops into his head, “Uh, d-do you think I can go with you? I don’t want to be alone when the test scores are posted.”

That wasn’t a lie. Tom is a little more worried than he likes to lead on, and not because he’s afraid of not getting to play. His intelligence has always been something that’s made him insecure. He would trade being athletic and being good with people for being intelligent any day of the week. That’s why Tom has always been so charmed by you. You can figure out the toughest problems within minutes. He knows that you’re unaware of how much he truly admires you, but you’ve been his favorite person at this school long before he worked up the courage to talk to you.

“You can still sleep and I can watch a movie with the volume down. You won’t even know I’m there.” He pleads subtly.

Alarms begin to go off in your brain, a foreign sensation twisting around in your stomach. Maybe it’s because of what happened last time he was in your room. Or maybe it’s because you wouldn’t completely mind if it happened again. Regardless of what’s causing that feeling, you agree because it’s Tom. How could you say no?

As you both take the same route you took almost every day for the past 2 weeks, you cross your arms over your chest. “So, what’s code pink?”

Tom lets his head hang as he chuckles, the sound inevitably bringing a smile to your face. “Crazy ex.” He explains simply whilst twirling his finger near his temple. “She had Harrison cornered in the bathroom.”

You laugh at how bizarre the situation sounds. “Why didn’t he just call Gen?” You wonder out loud.

“Because she’s scary protective. I’ve seen that girl bite off all 10 acrylics when she thought she heard someone purposely misgender Hayden.” He says with all seriousness.

The two of you continue to joke about the code pink incident for a bit, but the rest of the conversation on the walk to your dorm is light with only slight hints of awkwardness. You’re hoping that’s a good sign.

When you get there, Tom sticks to his word. You lie in bed, admittedly drifting off the sleep easier than before now that you’re in his presence, as he sits at your desk and attempts to pay attention to the movie playing on his laptop. The light sound of your snores and occasional stirring are more captivating than this movie he’s seen hundreds of times. He can’t help but gaze, silently admiring all of your features. When he wasn’t thinking about how you always look so beautiful or how amazingly sexist Grease actually is, he was thinking of a way to address what happened. Tom is unconvinced that he didn’t do anything wrong.

“We really need to talk about the other night.” You mumble, waking up after feeling his eyes bore into you.

Tom’s skin crawls a little bit, not realizing you were awake. He immediately pauses the movie and straightens his posture, thanking his lucky stars you said something first. He watches as you fiddle with a loose thread on your blanket, struggling to meet his eyes. Maybe he shouldn’t be thanking his stars just yet.

“I-I agree. I’ve been meaning to mention it.” He moves the conversation along.

You sit there in silence despite rehearsing in your head exactly how you would do this for multiples days. All of your mixed emotions are boiling over and you can already taste the saltiness of a tear running down your lips.

You wipe your face subtly before sitting up, the blanket still wrapped around you. It makes you feel somewhat secure while you indulge in the most vulnerable situation you’ve ever put yourself in.

“I’m just… confused. I know you probably are too. Do you, uh, have any questions?”

Tom cuts to the chase, “Did I do something wrong?”

Your heart shatters. You’ve made such a mess. The last thing you wanted was for someone as sweet as Tom to feel this way. “No. You did everything right.” Your voice cracks.

“Then what happened?”

You bring your knees up to your chest, desperately choking back sobs. “I shouldn’t have asked y-you to kiss me.” You finally admit out loud. Tom is, of course, undeniably hurt. How could the highlight of his week be the most regrettable decision of yours? Although his heart aches, he stays quiet and lets you finish your explanation.

You wipe away the tears flowing freely down your face, “I’ve never had a day like that before. No one has ever taken the time to do anything like that for me. I th-think I just got so caught up in how happy you made me feel that I didn’t care that I was about to make a stupid decision.”

Tom fights the lump is his throat as he tries his best to maintain a neutral facial expression. He gulps before asking, “Why, uh, why was kissing me a stupid decision?”

You shrug sheepishly, “Because you’re you and I’m me.”

It was a simple sentence, a simple explanation. At least you thought so. Tom couldn’t fathom what you mean by that though. As a matter of fact, Tom never understands when you make comments like that.

“…Yeah, you’re you. I’m me, Harrison is Harrison, and Robert Pattinson is one fine specimen.” Tom jokes.

You giggle through your fresh tears and bury your face in the pillow, “I’m being serious.” You voice is muffled.

“I’m being serious too.” Tom scoots the chair closer to your bed and closes the space between both of you. He gently removes the pillow and places his hands on either side of your face. “What about who we are makes kissing me a stupid decision?” He reiterates.

“We just don’t run in the same circles. Somehow almost everyone on campus knows who you are and only a handful of people know me… and that’s because of you.” You laugh incredulously. “We wouldn’t work. Plus, ya know, there’s still Harry and Jamie and all of your other groupies—”

Tom chuckles and cuts you off, “Why do you always bring up Jamie?”

You furrow your brows like it wasn’t obvious. “Because you two have some weird thing going on.”

“No we don’t.” Tom insists.

You roll your eyes, “Yes you do.”

“No we don’t!”

“Yes you do!”

“What makes you think that?” He crosses his arms.

You stare at Tom for a few seconds, almost unsure if he was joking around or not. Judging by his demeanor and the smug ‘I gotcha there’ look on his face, he’s 100% serious. You toss your hair back and clear your throat, prepared to give the performance of a lifetime.

You make big puppy dog eyes and jut out your lower lip, “Oh, Tommy! How could we ever lose with YOU on the team?! With your big, strong muscles and that cute little face.”

Tom lets out a wheezy laugh as you practically crawl on top of him, imitating Jamie. You dramatically run your hands all over his chest, biceps, and then up to his hair.

“And you look SO sexy, especially with your hair pushed back. Y/n, you nerdy, disgusting waste of space, why don’t you tell Tom how sexy he looks with his hair pushed back?!”

“Okay, okay. Maybe she has a little crush on me.” Tom admits through his laughter. “But Regina George? Really?”

You begin to laugh along with him, “Yes! That’s exactly who she reminds me of.”

“That’s a bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

“She broke my nose, Tom.” You deadpan, making him laugh even harder.

You watch his face scrunch up and the tiny crinkles next to his eyes form as his melodic laughter fills your room. Neither of you have realized that you’re straddling him while he has already comfortably placed his hands on your waist, rubbing you gently with his thumbs.

“And it’s still beautiful.” Tom taps your nose with his index finger. “Like you.”

He takes a moment to look into your eyes, trying to find the right words to say. You stare right back, not thinking of anything really. You’re just enjoying this moment, his smell, his touch— before it’ll inevitably get ripped away from you.

“I don’t think our kiss was a stupid decision. It’s actually the best thing that’s happened to me in a while.” Tom admits to you. You’re shocked to say the least.

“If you still like Harry, that’s okay. I just want you to know that I don’t care about circles. I don’t care about what the team thinks or what my friends might say. And I definitely don’t care about Jamie’s opinion on the fact.”

You subconsciously grip the back of his shirt, his words making your heart race. “What fact?”

Tom smirks, but it doesn’t hold the usual teasing undertones. There’s a sparkle behind his eyes and a calmness in his voice.

“The fact that I think you’re the most gorgeous person to graze the earth. You’re on my mind all the time. I go to sleep and wake up thinking about you. I look forward to studying because it means spending more time with you. The fact that the sound of your voice is my new favorite song. When you walk into a room, you’re the only person I see. The only person I would ever want to see. Y/n, I’ve liked you for a really long time now. I know I might not hold a candle to Harry Osborn, but the slight chance that you could possibly like me back is what’s keeping me going.”

You’re speechless. Every thought is burdening your mind, but not a single word can make its way out of your mouth. Tom sits there with your waist still in his hands, the gentle smirk still on his lips as his eyes search yours for an answer. It’s like a school bus was just lifted off of your chest. You didn’t realize how badly the fear of humiliation and rejection were holding you back from admitting what you feel for Tom. But now that he’s said the exact words you can only dream of someone saying to you, you’re free. You can finally let yourself blush around him. You can let yourself hold his hand without making excuses for him. You can finally confess that you felt the entire universe, in its beauty, coursing through your veins that night he kissed you. You like Tom. Slowly, yet so quickly at the same time, he’s managed to chip away at the walls you had up. You have absolutely no reason to believe anything other than what he just told you. So, yes, you’re free. You finally let go.

“Tom, I-”

“You don’t have to-”

You both interrupt one another. The two of you share a shy laugh before Tom lightly taps on your waist, signaling you to go first. You look into his honey drenched eyes and caress the side of his face. “Tom-”

You’re once again interrupted by an alert going off on his phone. You can feel his body tense up underneath you as his smile falters. “That should be the test scores.” He says lowly, anxiety almost immediately radiating off of his body.

You hold his hands in yours for a moment to try calming him down, “You passed. I know your tutor, so there’s no way you didn’t.” You joke.

Tom leans his head back on the chair and chuckles, “So conceited.”

“No, but seriously. You worked your ass off for this. You passed. You’re going to play tonight. You’re going to kick some ass. And I’m gonna watch the whole thing from the stands while I wear your jersey.”

His eyes light up like a child who was gifted a new puppy, “You’ll wear it?!”

You can’t help the burning sensation on your cheeks after seeing someone so excited over you. “Of course I will, because you’ve been the only thing on my mind since the day we met. I like you too, Tom.”

With no warning, Tom shoots up from his seat with you still tight in his grip. You yelp as you instinctively wrap your legs around his torso. You both laugh into one another as he spins around in triumph. “Oh thank god! Saying all that was the scariest thing I’ve ever done in my life.” He huffs, his accent a little more evident as he releases a breath he accidentally held in for too long.

He sets you down carefully with a giant smile plastered on his face. “You would’ve had me fooled.” You chuckle, “Now it’s time for the second scariest thing.”

You hand him his phone, encouraging him to take a look at his test score. Tom closes his eyes and takes a slow, deep breath as he confidently slips his free hand into yours. “3..2..1.” He whispers a countdown.

You watch nervously as his eyes dart back and forth over the screen. Moments go by until he finally looks at you, his face nearly expressionless which only adds to your anxiety. You give his hand a small shake, silently urging him to spit it out. “I’m sorry, Y/n.” He mutters.

Fuck. You let your shoulders drop and you feel a slight sting in your heart. “No, Tom. I’m so sorry. I should’ve taught you better or maybe spent more time on-”

“Y/n, I’m sorry…” Tom cuts you off, “but you’re going to look so good with my number on your back.”

A smug grin curls its way onto his lips as he flips his phone around for you to see. Not only did he pass his test, he passed the entire unit with a solid B+. There’s no doubt that if you both continue working together, he’ll have an A by the end of the semester. However, you worry about lesson plans later. Right now, you’re so ecstatic for Tom that you let out a loud triumphant cheer as you roughly shake his shoulders back and forth. He laughs at your excitement, pulling you into a tight hug.

“I’m so proud of you, Tom! I knew you could do it.”

“It wouldn’t have been possible without you.”

The hug lasts for a few more seconds, and you take it all in as he rubs soft circles on your lower back. When you pull apart, your faces are only inches away from one another. You smile lovingly before finally making the first move and connecting your lips to his. No regrets this time.

Tom’s arms envelop impossibly tighter around your waist while your hands find their way to his curly hair. You can’t help the soft moans that spill from your mouth. The feeling of finally letting yourself feel is almost too much. Carefully, Tom moves you back towards your bed before lowering you down, now hovering over you. You decide to just go the full nine yards by skillfully inserting your tongue into his mouth. Judging by the sounds he let out and the feeling of his knees buckling above you, it’s safe to say he didn’t mind that gesture. Feeling more confident now, you wrap your legs around his torso and you attempt to pull him down so that his weight is actually pressing against you, but he doesn’t budge. In fact, much to your dismay, Tom breaks the kiss completely.

“Wow uh, not that I don’t LOVE this assertive Y/n, there’s just a lot I need to do to prep for the game.”

You blush shyly at the slight plump you’ve already given his lips. A part of you feels like that was a little too much, but the other part says that wasn’t nearly enough. Nonetheless, you shake it off and clear your throat. “Right. I have another class soon anyway.”

“Don’t worry though.” Tom tells you, “We’ll have plenty of time to pick up where we left off at the big celebration party tonight.”

He slowly leans in for another kiss when you scoff. “Don’t you have to actually win and get into the playoffs first before you can celebrate that?” You ask, mockingly repeating the same words he used earlier that morning.

Tom rolls his eyes, but can’t stop the smile from forming on his lips. He playfully palms your forehead before pushing you back down onto your bed. The two of you share a laugh before saying your goodbyes for the time being. Tom makes sure to leave his extra jersey in your room and just like that, he’s off for the day.

You lay back down in bed, shamelessly giggling and squealing like you’re in middle school. Your face hurts from smiling so much. You look at his jersey draped nicely over your chair and sigh. Sure you both confessed your feelings, but nothing is official quite yet. You’re usually not one to count your eggs before they hatch but…

“Friends to lovers trope. Check.”

/ / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / /

WOW that was a long break I took there haha. Sorry for being so inactive, I’m slowly getting my life together lmao. I hope you all enjoy this chapter tho! Only one or two more left!! No promises, but I’ll try staying a little more consistent for the rest of this series.

Sorry for any typos!! I’ll fix them later on!

As always, positive feedback is welcomed and encouraged. If you’d like to be added/removed from the Just Another Trope taglist, feel free to let me know!! <3

🏷: @tpwkstiles @spellbinding10 @alwaaaysadream @osterfield23 @imobsessedzs @yikesitslush @allthisfortommy @sydney-parker @yeswhatever33 @herondalism @princesspinto96 @justliving07 @tshluvr @uwiuwi @mayal0pez @takenbyheartstrings @antonia32 @boomitsallie1 @cleverpluviophile @jeonzll @l—a—u—r—e—n @lnmp89

#tom holland x reader #tom holland fic #tom holland x female!reader #tom holland imagine #college!tom x reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland #tom holland x college!reader

[waitimcomingtoo]

SLUT!

chapter three: you and me would be a big conversation

series masterlist

The next few weeks of your relationship involved a lot of sneaking around.

You didn’t want your reputation to get any worse than it already was and being seen with a guy was definitely not going to do you any favors. To avoid the public scrutiny for at least a little while, you kept your dates to places far from campus or Peters favorite, his dorm room.

“I’m knocking on the door.” Ned said loudly from the other side of the door as he knocked repeatedly. Peter stopped kissing you and picked his head up to look at the door.

“We can hear you, Ned.” He sighed as you slid out from under him to sit up on the bed.

“I am opening the door.” Ned announced and then proceeded to fumbled with his room key for the next few minutes as you and Peter sat in silence.

“We know.” You said through a laugh. Ned finally got the door open but had both hands over his eyes and his room key in his mouth.

“Is everyone decent?” Ned asked.

“Yes.” Peter groaned. “Take your hands away from your eyes.”

Ned slowly lowered his hands and sighed in relief when he saw that everyone was fully clothed. You waved at Ned and he smiled as if just realizing you were in the room.

“Hello Y/n.” He said politely.

“Hi Ned. How was Spanish?” You asked him.

“Muy bueno. Gracias. How was fornicating with my childhood best friend?” Ned asked casually.

“What’s fornicating?” You asked Peter as he burned bright red.

“It means sex. And that’s not what was happening.” Peter said and gave Ned a look that told him to stop.

“Oh, really? Tell that to the hickie on your neck.” Ned snorted. Peter covered his forming hickie and looked at you sheepishly.

“Sorry.” You laughed shyly. “I’m a biter.”

“So I’ve heard.” Ned said as he plopped down at his desk. Your smile immediately dropped and Peter was quick to notice.

“I should go.” You faked a smile and hoped off Peters bed.

“Way to go, Ned.” Peter whispered harshly as you left the room. Peter followed you down the hallway and tugged you by the back of your shirt.

“Wait up.” He said as you turned around. You smiled tightly and folded your arms before looking at him.

“What’s up?”

“I’m sorry about him. He didn’t mean that maliciously. He’s just a little dumb.” Peter explained.

“It’s okay. Everyone says it. Why can’t he?” You shrugged it off but Peter could tell you were still upset. He pulled you in and hugged you as he pressed a few kisses to the side of your head.

“I wish we had more privacy. Not that it isn’t exciting to make out until we heard the dulcent sounds of Ned fumbling for his room key.” Peter joked. You smiled as an idea came to you and pulled away from Peter a little to look at him.

“I want to take you somewhere tonight.”

“Oh?” Peter raised his eyebrows in amusement.

“Do you have swim trunks?”

“I think so. Why?”

“Meet me at the old brick building at 7. Don’t be late.” You booped his nose and started to walk away.

“What are we doing?” He called after you.

“You’ll see!” You called back.

At 6:51 that night, Peter stood outside the brick building in his swim trucks and a T shirt. He was freezing since it was mid November now but his anticipation kept him warm. You came around the building in an oversized shirt and smiled when you saw Peter.

“You’re early.” You grinned and hugged him.

“So are you.”

“I am. We’re so alike.”

“We’re nothing alike.” Peter laughed as he rubbed his hand up and down on your back.

“Oh, right. Maybe that’s why I like you so much.” You shrugged and pulled him inside the building. You took the elevator to the basement and led Peter by the hand to an indoor pool. Moonlight was spilling in through tiny windows all along the walls, making the pool light up a pretty shade of aquamarine.

“Woah!” Peter gasped. “This school has a pool?”

“Yeah. Didn’t you see this on your tour?” You asked as you pulled off your t shirt.

“I never toured. They were the only other school to give me full ride so this is where I came.”

“Remind me to show you around. After we go for a swim.” You chuckled and jumped into the water. Peter pulled his shirt off but stood nervously at the edge of the pool.

“Come in! It’s not cold.” You said as you emerged from the water. Peter took a deep breath and jumped in, immediately feeling the chill.

“That’s really cold. You liar!” Peter said through chattering teeth.

“I know. I just wanted you in.” You giggled and wrapped your arms around his neck. You pulled him into a long kiss that warmed Peter right up.

“Ignore my blue lips, please.” He said once he pulled away.

“It’s okay. You’ll warm up soon. Especially if you keep close to me.” You smirked and wrapped your legs around his waist.

“I can do that.” He replied and wrapped his arms around you. You floated around the pool for a while and engaged in a race or two. After a while, Peter noticed a pensive look on your face and swam over to you.

“What’s on your mind?” He wondered.

“I have to admit something.” You said sheepishly.

“Oh? Spill.”

“When we first started hanging out, I was worried you only liked me because you heard I was easy.” You admitted with a certain sadness in your eyes. Peter made a face that you were crazy which made you feel better.

“No. I had no idea. I just thought you were nice. That’s why I liked you.” He told you.

“It’s been a really long time since someone has called me “nice”.” You smiled and didn’t realize how much it would mean to you to be called something other than a slut.

“You are nice. The people on campus don’t you. But I do.” Peter assured you.

“I know you do. It feels good to be known for me and not for some stupid rumors that people made up.” You told him. You stared at each for a moment of quiet understanding. Neither of you had felt truly seen by another person until meeting the other.

“I feel like I’ve waited my whole life for you.” You said quietly.

“I feel that way too.” Peter smiled softly and pulled you through the water to hold you.

“I’m glad we’re on the same page.” You said before pulling him into a kiss. Peter wrapped one arm around your waist and used his free hand to wrap your legs around him. He then slipped his hand behind your head to deepen the kiss. He didn’t know where this confidence was coming but he was going with it.

“Wait.” You said suddenly and pushed him back.

“Sorry. I’m moving too fast.” Peter apologized and put his hands behind his head to keep them off you.

“No, it’s not that. I just think if we get caught making out in this pool we’re not supposed to be in then you’d probably lose your scholarship.” You laughed, making Peter relax.

“Right.” He smiled. “Because I’m poor and smart.”

“We should probably go.” You said and pointed to the ladder to get out.

“Oh. Yeah.” Peter agreed and tried to hide his disappointment that the night was over.

“Together, though.” You added, drawing a smile out of Peter. You dried off with the towels in the locker room before throwing your clothes back on. Once you were dressed, you brought Peter back to your dorm room.

“My roommate went home for the weekend.” You told him as you flipped the light switch on. Peter had never been in your room before so he took his time looking around at all the little things you used to decorate. He noticed your posters and pictures of your friends from high school taped up above your stuffed animals.

“Woah. I’ve never been in the girls dorm before.” Peter smiled as he picked up a plush dog off your bed.

“It’s not that exciting.” You chuckled and snatched the dog from him.

“I promise, I feel very excited right now.” He replied as he sat down on your bed. Girls rooms always smelled so much better than boys and he could sniff out the faint smell of peppermint in the air. You smirked at him and opened the mini fridge to take out a can of ginger ale. You poured it into two little cups and handed him one.

“Clink, clink.” You said and hit your cup against his. In the lighting of your room, Peter was finally able to notice that you weren’t wearing any makeup from the trip to the pool.

“You look pretty with no makeup.” Peter said as it was his first time seeing you undone like this. You laughed as if that was ridiculous and covered your face a little with your hand, which Peter then moved. You looked at him and stopped trying to hide as you no longer felt you had to.

“So do you.” You gently teased him as you leaned in. Peter put his cup down on a nearby dresser and used his recently freed hand to pull you into his lap. He slid his hands up and down your back as you tangled your fingers in his chlorine dampened curls. Something gave you the nerve to push him back into your bed and you both fell back without breaking the kiss. Peter kept his hands in a respectful placement on your hips like the gentleman he was. You pulled away only to catch your breath but ended up getting distracted by Peters pretty face. You traced your fingernail in circles on his cheek and felt him blush under your touch.

“I got pool water on your pillow.” Peter said in a soft voice. You smiled and leaned down to rub your nose against his.

“It’s okay. I think I can find it in my heart to forgive you.”

“I can wash them for you if you want so that you don’t have to sleep on dirty sheets.” Peter offered, giving you an idea.

“I mean, if they’re already dirty, we might as well put them to go use.” You said and leaned down to kiss him again. This kiss was slower and sent butterflies flying into your stomach. Peter picked up on what you were trying to say and felt excitement building up inside him in anticipation of your first time together. You’d never gone further than making out and he was eager to take your relationship to the next level. You could feel Peter pushing your hips down into him and quickly pulled away.

“Sorry.” You said at the same time. Peter could sense you were hesitant to continue so he propped himself up on his elbows to give you some space. You sat up in your elbows as well and gave him a sheepish smile.

“I’m sorry.” You repeated. “I know I’m the one that started that but I think I changed my mind. I don’t know if I’m ready to go all the way yet. I’m sorry if I lead you on.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.” Peter assured you. “You can change your mind anytime you want at any moment you need to. And I don’t know if I was ready for it either. I just got excited.”

“No, I was too. I just don’t want us to move too fast if that’s okay? I don’t want to mess things up by rushing into anything because I really like you and I want us to last.”

“Of course that’s okay. You can always tell me what pace you feel comfortable with. And I really like you too. We can take our time together, okay?” Peter smiled softly at you as he took your hand. You looked at your intertwined hands and realized this was the first time you felt completely safe around a boy.

“You know, Peter, in a world of boys, you really are a gentleman.” You said through a tired laugh.

“Can you tell that to my aunt when you meet her? Because she’s convinced I’m a delinquent since I stopped wearing a belt.”

“I’ll tell her.” You laughed and laid down on your bed. Peter laid beside you and rested his head on your heart. You immediately tangled your hands on his hair and played with it the way he liked.

“She’ll like you. I know she will. I gotta get my two girls together one day.” Peter said in a soft voice.

“I hope she likes me. You were primarily raised by her, right?”

“For the last few years, yeah. She’s the best.”

“I bet she it.” You replied. “It would explain why you turned out the way you did.”

“What do you mean?”’ Peter chuckled and looked up at you.

“I mean you’re so sensitive and caring of others around you. I mean, look at us. You met me on your first day here and decided to tutor me just because you saw a stranger was struggling. And I see the way you take care of Ned. Remember that night he was homesick so you made us all watch that weird movie with the sexy horse from when you guys were kids?”

“Hey, Spirit is not a weird movie.” Peter playfully defended. “It’s an underrated classic with a phenomenal soundtrack.”

“Okay, whatever you say.” You chuckled. “All I’m saying is, she raised you right. In a world of boys, you’re a gentleman.”

“I try to be. You deserve a gentleman.” He said and picked his head up to stare at you. You smiled softly and brushed his hair off his forehead before taking his chin and brining his face closer to kiss him.

“Thanks for being gentle with me.” You whispered.

Peter returned the smiled and kissed you again before resting his head back down on your chest. You played with his hair until he fell asleep and then turned off the lights.

Tag List 💋

@breadglasses @hollandweather @cashtons-wife @scenesofobx @trumanbluee

@classygladiatortidalwave @miwagila @sarcasm-and-stiles @hitoshislut @misspascalpunk

@buckylovinglokivariant @betzabobababi

@eterjas @pleasingregulus @avatarjuno @dreamingofts18 @diorrgrl @anarchistsons

@crxmxnzl-c0rpzes @erule @justsomebodyweird @un06 @tom-hollands-wifey

@bellajg21 @madlyinlovewmattmurd0ck @secretly-a-cold-blooded-murderer

@ferrjulie @kitykatnumber @angelayse @cleosertoriooc @iamdedsthingz

@girls-and-guts @tomshufflepuff @lovely-blackinnon @matchafrappeidm

@xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @kneelforloki @xorderedkaosx @dory-98 @okayiamkassandra

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker college au #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x y/n #peter parker imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x y/n

[lnfours]

sideline (three) | t.h

summary -> tom holland: the name thats always floating around campus, and for good reason. he’s the captain of the hockey team, he’s good looking, and he’s always caught up in an off and on again relationship with the president of the sorority. that’s where you come in. you two had made a deal to make your exes jealous, but we all know how fake relationships end.

wc -> a rule breaking 2.5k

warnings -> fluff, jealous exes, and fluff. 

🎵 spotify playlist | 📖 prev/next chapter | 📂 masterlist

                                ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

it was finally friday, the night of the first home hockey game. you were in the bathroom, trying desperately to curl the back of your head, but no luck. 

you huffed, “mia! can you come here real quick?!” 

your voice echoed, her footsteps being your sign that she heard you. she opened the door to your bedroom, walking into the small half bathroom. 

“what’s up?” she met your eyes in the mirror, cracking a smile at how distressed you look. 

“can you curl the back of my hair, please?” 

she smiled, holding her hand out for the curling wand. she sectioned your hair, grabbing a reasonably sized chunk before wrapping it around the barrel. 

“so,” she dragged the ‘o’, “you excited for tonight?”

you shrugged, “i suppose. would be nice to actually see tom play.”

“oh, i meant to ask,” she said, “but how did you two even start dating? was it the night of the party?”

you bit down on your bottom lip, “yeah, yeah. i guess we sorta kinda just clicked? i don’t really know how to explain it.”

she smiled, “i was just making sure this is something you really wanted. i mean, i know i’m one to talk, but with everything that happened with jack, i just want to make sure you’re okay.”

you smiled softly at her in the mirror, “i’m okay, i just want to move on and be happy again.”

“understandable,” she said, “what he did was so fucked up. he’s lucky i haven’t seen him yet because i will quite literally give him an ass whooping.”

you laughed, “i love you.”

she smiled back at you, “i love you, too,” she turned the curling wand off, placing it down on the sink before admiring her work, “and you’re all set, hot stuff.”

you smiled, “thanks.”

“i’m gonna go make sure sarah isn’t trying to leave the house with sweatpants on.” she said and you laughed as she made her way back down the steps. 

your phone buzzed on the counter, a message popping up on your screen. you grabbed the phone, plopping down on your stomach onto the mattress. 

tom dropped something off for you at your door see you soon :) 

you locked your phone before running down the steps, laughing as you heard sarah’s complaining about the outfit mia suggested she wore tonight. you opened the front door, a bag sitting on the carpet in the hallway. 

you grabbed it and shut the door, reading the sticky note that was plopped on top of whatever was inside the bag. 

fake girlfriend or not, there’s no one else i’d want wearing my last name tonight. 

the tickets are at the bottom, see you tonight :)  - tom 

you pulled out the black jersey, the stitching on the back reading tom’s last name and his number. you smiled, grabbing your phone out of the back pocket of your jeans. 

y/n thank you! i love it 

you slipped your phone back into your pocket, jogging up the stairs. you entered sarah’s room where mia was laying on the bed, smiling contently with her efforts on getting mia to dress up a little bit. you entered the room, your eyes immediately going wide at sarah’s outfit. 

“you look hot!” 

“see, told you,” mia said, throwing her hands up in the air, “wear the outfit!”

she was in a black turtleneck sweater tucked into the front of her light wash jeans that quite literally fit her like a glove. she wore a pair of black booties with them, with some light makeup on (courtesy of mia). 

sarah hardly ever got dressed up like this anymore, which she never really had to. she looked gorgeous either way. but ever since her and her ex boyfriend broke up, she’d lost the motivation to throw on cute outfits, just opting in on staying in sweats or pajamas all day. if there was a party, it was leggings, one of her comfort hoodies, and her beat up pair of converse that were now considered her ‘frat shoes’. 

you and mia both tried to get her back to being her confident, carefree self. but, it was hard. hard for all of you, especially sarah. at the end of the day, you both just wanted her happy again. 

“mia, this bra is suffocating my tits,” she said, tugging at the cups, “how the fuck do you wear this everyday?”

you both laughed, “you’ll get used to it.”

“what’s that, y/n?” mia asked, nodding towards the bag in your hand. you smiled, grabbing the material from the bag and holding it up for both the girls to see. 

“no way!”

“shut the fuck up!!”

you laughed, smiling, “i know, i know.”

“that’s so cute,” mia said, sticking her bottom lip out. sarah agreed, nodding her head as she put a hand over her heart. 

“finally, y/n finding someone who treats her right.”

you chuckled, fishing the tickets out of the bottom of the bag, “here’s our tickets. we should probably leave soon.”

“yes ma’am,” mia said, fakely saluting you.

sarah and you laughed, each of you departing to your own rooms to finish up getting ready and to grab your things. 

                               ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

the arena was packed for the first home game filled with a bunch of parents and college kids hoping for their team to win. tom was nice enough to get you, mia and sarah seats right near the ice. 

“okay, can i just say, i love tom. i mean, look at these seats.”

you smiled over at sarah, “yeah, it was really nice of him.”

mia was looking around at the people near you, seeing if anyone else you guys knew showed up for the game. she immediately whipped her head back around to you, slapping your arm to get your attention. 

“jack’s here.”

there’s that nervous pit again. 

“wait, where?” sarah asked, moving to turn around in her seat. mia reached over you and grabbed her arm to stop. 

“don’t look at him! he’s a couple rows up.”

great.

your phone buzzed in your pocket, you fished it out and tapped on the message notification. 

tom hey, how're your seats? 

y/n they’re great! other than the fact that jack is a couple rows behind me but otherwise they’re great :) 

tom oh shit, i’m sorry i can have someone come get you and move you guys if you want

y/n no, no it’s okay 

you bit down on your bottom lip, fingers hovering over the keyboard. 

let’s just make him jealous, like we said we would

tom with pleasure.  see you after the game

y/n  good luck :) 

you locked your phone, mia turning to look at you, “you okay?”

you nodded, tucking a piece of hair away from your face, “yeah, actually. i am.”

it wasn’t a complete lie. sure, seeing jack was like a sucker punch to the gut, but you decided to not let it overpower you tonight. you were here with your best friends, supporting one of the nicest, funniest, caring guys you’ve ever met.

as the night went on, you and your friends cheered on tom’s team. he scored the winning goal and the arena erupted with cheers and applause. you, mia and sarah immediately jumped out of your seats, screaming and cheering as tom shrugged off his helmet and was hugged by his team. once everyone had calmed down, he skated over to your section, holding up a heart made out of his hands. you smiled, holding up one back. 

his subtle jab of rubbing it into jack’s face. smooth. 

once the arena cleared out, you let mia and sarah head back in mia’s car as you waited for tom. you were waiting in the lobby, scrolling on your phone trying to pass time.

“hey,” you heard a voice and looked up to see jack, “didn’t know you liked our hockey team.”

you slipped your phone into your pocket, clearing your throat, “uh, yeah. kinda getting back into liking hockey.”

he nodded, “yeah. i mean, sleeping with the captain of the team kinda helps, doesn’t it?”

you opened your mouth to speak, but felt a hand wrap around your waist. you were immediately enveloped in the scent of tom’s cologne. 

“hey, baby,” he said, leaning in and pressing a kiss to your cheek. you masked the surprise that ran through your body, smiling over at him as he looked over at jack, “sorry, didn’t catch your name, mate. you are?”

jack’s eyes narrowed on tom’s figure, “jack.”

“jack, i’m tom, nice to meet you.” he said, holding out his hand for him to shake. jack didn’t accept the handshake, but just shifted his gaze to you.

“didn’t you say jocks aren’t your type?” he asked, and eyebrow raised at you. 

“funny how we both said things we didn’t mean.” you spit back. he opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by his friends calling his name behind him. he rolled his eyes, turning around and walking towards his group. 

“pleasure was all mine, mate! see you later!” tom called back after him. you let a chuckle escape your mouth as he unwrapped his arm from around you, turning to face you, “you okay?”

you nodded, “yeah. thank you.”

“that’s what i’m here for,” he smiled, “hungry? we can get something to eat before i drop you off at home?”

you nodded, “sounds good.”

he nodded towards the door, the two of you walking out towards the parking lot. he opened the passenger side door for you. you thanked him before he jogged around to his side, buckling in and starting the car before passing you his phone.

“put on whatever you want.”

you scrolled through his spotify, finding a couple songs you knew and put them on through the car speakers. he pulled into the parking lot to one of the diners in town. the two of you made your way inside before sitting in a booth across from one another. 

you scanned over the menu, “what’re you going to get?”

he hummed, “don’t know. kinda going back and forth between the club and the chicken parm. what about you?”

you hummed, twisting your lips in thought, “the grilled cheese and tomato soup sounds good.”

he smiled, “does sound good.”

once the two of you ordered and got your food, you made small talk about the game. 

“i don’t think jack likes me much.” tom chuckled, taking a sip of his drink.

“no, really?” you smiled, voice laced with sarcasm, “what gave it away? was it the blatant ignoring or was it something else i didn’t pick up on?”

he smiled, “not that i care about his opinion of me, but he could’ve at least shook my hand.” 

you nodded in agreement, “yeah, no, he didn’t have to be such a dick about it.”

the bill came and after trying to grab it from him for about five minutes, you finally let him pay. you walked out, letting him open the car door for you, as he always does. you two were on the way back to your house, laughing and enjoying comfortable conversation. 

“so, tell me,” he said, “are you really not into the jock type?”

you nodded, “yeah, i mean, guys who i’ve met who were athletes were like the stereotypical jock type. the huge ego, kinda kept their girlfriend by their side as arm candy, never really cared about the woman they were with, you know?”

he nodded, “yeah, i don’t really get how guys can do that. any guy who doesn’t worship their girl is a dick, in my opinion.”

you smiled, “are you the type of guy to worship your girl?” 

“oh, yeah,” he said, “i mean, if you don’t then what’s the point, y’know?”

“i get you,” you said, “in my opinion, taylor didn’t deserve you.”

he smiled over at you, “a lot of other people would agree with you.”

who would willingly break tom’s heart? i mean, c’mon, he’s the definition of a perfect boyfriend. 

no, stop thinking like that.

he pulled up in front of the house. you looked over at him, his brown eyes meeting yours. 

“do you want to come inside?” you didn’t even notice the words were falling from your lips until you heard your own voice. 

“sure.” he smiled, turning the car off. he followed you inside, mia and sarah sitting on the couch. 

“hey,” you said, shutting the door and locking it, your eyes falling onto the tv, “what’re you guys watching?”

“the new episode of love island,” mia said, “shh.”

you looked at tom who was smiling at you. you rolled your eyes playfully, “okay, you guys have fun. we’re going upstairs.”

sarah gave you a thumbs up as the two of you climbed the stairs. you made your way to your room and shut the door. tom took a seat onto your bed, watching as you walked over to the dresser.

“i might have a pair of sweats you can change into,” you said, digging through one of the drawers, “if you want to stay.”

he smiled, “i’d love to stay.”

you smiled back at him before handing him the sweatpants, “i can uhm, find a t-shirt or something if you don’t want to sleep in your sweatshirt.”

“i’m good for now,” he smiled, taking the sweatpants into his hands, “thank you.”

you nodded, “the bathroom is over there.”

he nodded, walking into the bathroom. you quickly changed into a pair of leggings and a tanktop, sitting on the bed as he came out of the bathroom. he joined you on the bed, putting his phone on the nightstand.

“wanna watch a movie or something?”

he nodded, “yeah, anything in mind?”

you hummed as you clicked onto netflix, “i heard the new movie on netflix is good. something about a girl who’s in fake relationship or something.”

he let out a chuckle as you smiled over at him, “how fitting. maybe we could learn a thing or two.”

you clicked on the movie, the both of you getting situated on the bed. you two were mainly talking rather than paying attention. he was propped up on his elbow, facing you as you laid down on your side. 

his eyes scanned your face, “oh, you have an eyelash.”

you reached up under the eye he pointed to, attempting to wipe it away. 

“did i get it?”

he smiled softly, “no, here,”

he reached up gently and pinched the eyelash between his fingers. you smiled as he scanned your face again. you did the same, his face softly illuminated from the light from the tv. he looked like a dream, his curls flopped over his forehead. you didn’t realize how close the two of you had gotten until you could feel his warm breath fan your face. he reached over and moved  a piece of hair from your face. 

“what’re you thinking about?” you asked softly.

“how i broke one of the rules.”

you raised an eyebrow, “which one?”

“the first one,” he said, “‘no strings attached’. i can’t help it. you’re all that’s been on my mind ever since i met you.”

you let out a shaky breath at how close he was, “i may have broken that one, too.”

he smiled, “let’s scrap the rules. i want to explore this, whatever kind of feelings we may or may not have… if that’s what you want.”

“yeah,” you said, “fuck the rules.”

he smiled wider, “is it alright if i kiss you right now?”

“please.”

                     ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

💌 beings my tagged list has gotten so long that tumblr literally won't let me add it, the tagged list is temporarily closed until i can figure it out. in the meantime, be sure to follow and turn on notifications for @toms-gf to be notified whenever i post imagines :)

xoxo, jordan

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x fem!reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland series #college au #college!tom holland #college!au #college!reader #college!au tom holland #hockey player au #hockey player!tom holland #sideline (series) #tom holland smut #tom holland fluff #marvel imagines #mcu #mcu imagines #spiderman #spider man #spider-man

[luvmarigold]

keep it hush (college!peter parker x fem!reader)

Summary: You find yourself crossing a line with Peter that you never intended to cross.

Pairings: fwb!peter x reader

WC: 1,086

WARNINGS: fluff, two idiots in love, mutual pining, slight angst (?)

important note: this fic has NOT been stolen! i, the original writer, am reposting this on my new blog as my previous blog (spiderl0rd) was wrongfully deleted. as always, reblogs and comments are appreciated! this is a part of @mermaidxatxheart ‘s Hot Writer Summer Challenge! this fic is based off of the song “Toothbrush” by DNCE. divider by @firefly-graphics

You were in heaven. At least it felt like you were.

Lying there with your head on Peter’s chest, his hand rubbing gentle circles on your back, legs tangled up in the warm sheets, you were the most comfortable you’ve ever been. Perhaps too comfortable.

You and Peter met during your freshman year. He and his friend, Ned, lived in the dorm directly across the hall from you. After learning that you were both from Queens, you became instant friends. It wasn’t until the Spring semester that you noticed something between you. A spark.

A lingering glance here. A flirty comment there. You both finally decided to give in to temptation and try your hand at being friends with benefits.

That was six months ago and against your better judgment, you felt yourself falling for him. Hard. You swore to yourself that for the sake of your friendship, you wouldn’t let yourself get attached. However, your heart had other plans.

You glance out of the window to see the sun setting, realizing your time with Peter has come to an end. You let out a sigh before moving to climb out of bed. Before your feet are able to touch the ground, you feel a gentle hand wrap around your wrist.

“Wait, you’re leaving already? It’s barely even 8 o’clock.” He says with a nearly imperceptible pout on his lips.

You let out a light chuckle, “I just figured I’d start heading back. I’ve been here all day. You’re probably getting sick of me by now.”

“Don’t say that. I could never get sick of you. I love every minute I spend with you.” He says with a slight frown.

You pause and look at him – really look at him. He’s dead serious. You attempt to laugh it off, ignoring the feeling building in the pit of your stomach. You ruffle his already messy curls before finally climbing out of bed, “Aw, thanks, Parker. I love spending time with you too.”

There is a moment of silence as he takes you in. Eyes follow you around the room as you free yourself from his t-shirt, changing back into your own clothes. 

“Hey, Y/N?”

You hum, urging him to continue.

“Y’know you’re always welcome to stay over if you’d like…right?”

You stop in your tracks and look at him, searching his eyes for any indication that he’s joking. Your search turns up empty. 

You just sigh and shake your head. “C’mon Pete, we’ve talked about this. You know the rules.”

“It’s just…you’re always in such a rush to leave after we hook up. I don’t want you to feel like you have to do that, that’s all.”

“I appreciate that. Trust me, I do. I just don’t think it’s appropriate.”

“What do you mean? You’ve slept over dozens of times. What’s one more?” He says crawling over to the edge of the bed to be closer to you.

“Yeah but that was before we started doing this.” You say gesturing between the two of you. 

“It’s just one night. It’s not a big deal.”

You frown, “Maybe not to you, but it is to me.”

A look of confusion flashes across his features. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that cuddling and spending time together after sex crosses a boundary that we both agreed we wouldn’t cross. We both agreed that we need to give each other space in order for this to work. Otherwise, it’ll start to feel like we’re more than just benefitting if you know what I mean.”

A long, uncomfortable silence hangs in the air as you go back to gathering your belongings. You almost forgot that Peter was in the room before he quietly spoke up again.

“…But would that be so bad, though?”

“Peter-” “Please. Let me finish.”

You nod sitting back down next to him on the mattress.

“I’m sorry, okay? I know it’s against the rules or whatever but I can’t help the fact that every time I see you walk out that door, you take a little piece of my heart with you. Every night we spend together just plays on repeat in my head, over and over, until I get the chance to see you again. Being around you is all I want to do, Y/N.”

You feel your heart rate pick up and your breath quicken. This is the moment you’ve been dreaming of since you first came to terms with the fact that you had feelings for Peter. So, why are you not over the moon about his confession?

Avoiding his gaze, you turn away from him, shaking your head. “We’re friends Pete. I would never jeopardize that.”

“Well can’t we at least try? Look at me, sweetheart.” You reluctantly let your eyes meet his as he grabs your hands, sandwiching them between his own. “I say to hell with the rules. I’d break every rule in the book if it meant we got to be together. I’m not saying we have to end up in a relationship if that’s not what you want. All I’m asking is that we have a proper go at it and see if we can make things work. I’m tired of moving around in secrecy. I want to take you out on a real date. I want to fall asleep next to you. I want to be able to show you off because that’s what you deserve, Y/N. Let me be the one to give that to you.”

Your brain is screaming at you to say “no, absolutely not” but your heart is screaming louder and it’s telling you that this may be worth the risk.

“If I agree to this, keyword: if, would you agree to take things slow?”

“Of course, whatever you want! Maybe you can start leaving a change of clothes here? I can empty out one of my drawers for you if you’d like. I can even get you an extra toothbrush or something that you can keep in my bathroom. That way, you don’t have to leave super early to go back to your place. Oh! How about we-” You cut off his rambling by grabbing his face between your hands.

“Parker!”

A deep red washes over his features, throwing you a sheepish grin. “…Yeah?”

“I’d be honored to leave a toothbrush at your place, you goof.”

Those are the last words you’re able to say before he pounces on you, smothering your face with kisses. “You won’t regret this, Y/N. I promise.”

#peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #hotwritersummerchallenge #peter parker #college au #college!peter parker #peter parker fluff #song fic #tom holland #fwb!peter parker #tom holland fluff #spiderman #peter parker fic #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #marvel #marvel fanfiction #writing challenge #marvel imagine

[justapurrcat]

Things That Look Like Nothing | p.b.p.

Pairing: college!Peter Parker x fem!reader

Synopsys: As if getting caught up into the cliché trap of falling in love with your best friend and having to watch as he falls for someone else wasn’t enough, the universe has decided to take a step further in punishing you, turning your existence in a not-so-figurative life or death situation. Your closest confident is now the reason behind your pain, your anchor the very thing that’s dragging you down...

Word Count: 5.960k

Warnings: English not being my first language, angst, hanahaki disease, so unrequited love and blood, a bit of fluff, a hint of smut... the usual you should expect from me I guess~

Peter Parker Masterlist

General Masterlist

A/n: ... after the absolute filthiness of my last vampire!Tom blurb, I needed something to cleanse my soul, so here is an angsty Peter fic with my attempt at Hanahaki!au (aka watch me writing anything but Unscripted because I emotionally scarred myself with it well done Lia well done)~ hope you enjoy it 💜

“Peter?”

You blinked repeatedly, as if you couldn’t believe your own eyes.

The sight of your best friend perched on the windowsill of your college dorm, without his suit, taking the foolish risk of being seen and discovered, was something you were convinced you would never get to see again.

Peter waved awkwardly, his big puppy eyes betraying a certain insecurity, something he was certain he’d never get to experience when talking to you. You were his safe harbour, the person whose presence he felt comfortable enough with to let all his masks dissolve.

He could let go of Spider-Man, of the orphan, of the young man who carried so much onto his shoulders, of the brave, cheerful façade he sometimes forced himself to put on not to worry his aunt and friends… until all that was left was Peter Parker sound asleep in your arms.

Now though, that same Peter Parker was scared. Scared that you would turn your back to him just like you had stopped talking to him all at once, through a dry text on how you needed to spend some time alone, isolated from everything and everyone.

He had jokingly pointed out that it would’ve been kinda hard while bouncing between classes and your part-time job. No answer had come from you.

So, after an entire week of complete radio silence from your part, Peter had decided to take matters into his own hands.

“Mind if I come in?”, he finally found the courage to ask.

You knew you should’ve told him to go away, that now that he was trying to get a girlfriend, sneaking into your room at night wasn’t exactly the best way to proceed about it, but your stupid body unconsciously betrayed you, stepping aside and nodding like you had done so many times before, effectively inviting him inside.

Force of habit, you told yourself, and you were also doing it to protect his secret identity. Wallowing in that stupid lie was way more reassuring and less scary than admitting that Peter’s absence affected you as if a vital organ had been brutally ripped away from under your flesh.

Not that you really needed to admit that, to be honest, considering that you were not so metaphorically dying because of unrequited love… but still, it was one last stubborn fight to preserve what little was left of your dignity.

“W-what are you doing here?”, you babbled, unable to keep your hands from fidgeting and already starting to feel a strange movement in your chest, the threatening, delicate caress of a soft petal unfolding in your left lung. Right next to your heart, how pathetically cliché.

“Just checking on my best friend.” Peter deadpanned, allowing his gaze to wander around your room, looking for any sign that could tell him what was going on with you. But it all looked the same and his spider sense kept buzzing in the back of his mind without any alteration, a white noise he had reluctantly gotten used to it when it came to you.

“Who’s been avoiding me for some reason”, he added when his eyes landed on the picture frame lying face down on your desk.

“I haven’t”, you objected weakly, caught in your lie like a deer in headlights.

His lips pressed into a hard line, in a frown that tasted likr both anger and pain, and he took a step closer, picking the frame up to examine it. He didn’t really need any other clue, but your bright, smiley childish faces staring back at him felt like a stab through his heart.

It was the first pic the two of you had taken together, something you had always described as your most prized possession. And now you didn’t want to see it, just like you didn’t want to see him.

“You have”, Peter insisted, starting to feel tears burning in his throat. He clenched his jaw, trying to hold them back and – before he could break it – put the pic back in its place.

“Fine, I can’t stand you. Happy now?”, you scoffed, hoping this coldness could pacify the sensation in your chest. In a desperate attempt to save yourself that wouldn’t involve a surgery and a definitive memory loss. You wanted to trick the invisible monster, so that it would eventually lead your heart to believe that there was not an ounce of love left in you that could be given to your best friend.

Better to keep him in your life shielded behind a veil of denial and poorly fabricated indifference, than to lose him to darkness forever.

Of course, it didn’t work in the slightest: you simply couldn’t lie to yourself. And that love was no longer yours to give: it belonged to Peter and Peter alone, whether he wanted it or not.

Clearly not amused by your joke, Peter turned around, actually taking you in for the first time after so many days. And it felt like a punch in his gut.

You shrunk under his incandescent gaze, crossing your arms over your chest. “What?”, you spat defensively.

“You look…”, he trailed off, at complete loss for words.

“Like shit, you can say it.”

And felt like it, too. Isolating yourself and being away from him had turned out to be useless because, even while basically having entered your Rapunzel era, Peter was still all you could think about.

Even now that he was standing in the middle of your tiny bedroom, physically within reach yet miles away from you, you couldn’t bring yourself to believe his presence there was wrong, that that wasn’t where he was supposed to be.

Which didn’t exactly help with the whole Hanahaki situation going on.

“… annihilated.”

“That’s a big word, did MJ teach you that?”, you sneered, trying to move past him to go and sit on your bed. Your legs were starting to feel like jelly, you couldn’t collapse right in front of him or you wouldn’t have heard the end of it.

“Don’t change the subject”, Peter hissed, grabbing your elbow, not harshly enough to hurt you, but firmly enough to stop you and keep you in place. “You’re sick.”

You froze, the sudden proximity and contact spreading fire under your skin and at the same time constricting your lungs. “It’s nothing”, you forced out as naturally as you could.

“Doesn’t look like nothing to me”, he pointed out, an unusual and new scent of flowers coming from your body not going unnoticed by him. He couldn’t explain it to himself: it wasn’t bad, but it didn't smell like any of the perfumes you would use on a daily basis… and yet, it was so… you.

“You’d be surprised how many things can look like nothing”, you instinctively retorted, pulling your arm from his grip, and you had to bite your tongue not to add a couple more words that you were aware would’ve ruined everything beyond repair.

To you.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”, Peter inquired, narrowing his eyes at you.

“Dunno”, you shrugged, dismissing the whole thing. “It sounded like a cool thing to say.”

“y/n…”, he sighed tiredly, trying to resonate with you. “What is going on?”

No response came from you and he gulped when he heard your heartbeat slow down almost imperceptibly. Almost, because Peter had made that rhythm his own, and he had come to know it like the back of his hand. He had regulated his life onto it, his peace nestled in those brief little fragments of seconds inside your ribcage.

“I missed you…”, he confessed. “I miss my y/n.” And he missed the way your heart spoke to him, that sweet, comforting sound that never failed to let him know that everything was okay. But now it spoke a foreign language, so alien that he couldn’t even try to learn it, let alone comprehend it.

“I missed you, too”, you admitted in a thin voice.

“Then why are you avoiding me? What happened?”

“Nothing, Peter”, you repeated softly, with a light shake of your head, letting your lips indulge on the beloved syllables of his name. “I promise it’s nothing.”

“Stop lying to me!”, Peter yelled, the unexpected change in his tone making you jump in surprise. Not in fear. Never in fear.

He immediately regretted raising his voice – and especially raising it at you – but he was mad, worried, and hurt, and your lack of answer did nothing to ease his feelings. If anything, it drove him even madder.

What he had told you was the truth: he did miss you. He missed you like air, he understood he had done something wrong, and he wanted to make it better, he wanted you to feel better… but you weren’t giving him the chance to do that – whatever that was.

For fuck’s sake, he would’ve given you a litre of his own blood, had you told him it was the solution you needed, but you were denying yourself to be helped… and he couldn’t have it that way. He wouldn’t.

“I’m sorry”, he added quickly, reaching out for your hands and taking them in his. He winced at how cold they were.

You let him do that, not putting up any resistance when he took another step in your direction. You just wanted him to hold you tight and never let go of you, was it too much to ask?

Apparently it was, because your name wasn’t MJ Watson.

“It’s okay”, you breathed out, and your voice was so thin that, hadn’t it been for his enhanced hearing, your best friend wouldn’t have heard it.

God every part of you was beginning to hurt so much from his proximity… but it was so nice to have him that close and touching you so tenderly… you would’ve gladly prolonged that pain for eternity. You would’ve died for it.

You realised how stupid you had been to avoid him, all the time you could’ve spent next to him was now lost forever and it was a blasphemy of the worst kind.

Peter placed your palms onto his chest and kept them there in hope his super-human warmth would bring you any comfort, then let go of them and cupped your cheeks, gently tilting your face up so that you would look at him.

He saw your eyes glistening with tears, and it tore him apart to notice how similar they looked to when they were filled with joy. It dawned upon him now, how sad your happiness truly was, like something obscure wouldn’t allow you to experience anything good ever again.

He couldn’t exactly pinpoint when, but the light in your smile had gradually begun to fade, consumed by a slow, but inexorable melancholy that was weakening not only your soul, but your body as well.

“You’re… you’re…”, Peter stuttered, then went quiet, his voice failing him. He couldn’t bring himself to vocalise them, but the words loomed above your heads like a menacing dark fog. What he wanted to say was cruelly obvious and the fact that you didn’t deny it did nothing but prove his theory right.

It wasn’t a simple illness… you were dying.

“No…”

The ground crumbled under his feet, the air turning to dust in his lungs. How could you have hidden that from him? How could he have been so blind not to see it?

“No, it can’t be.”

Your figure became blurred in his eyes, getting reduced to a splash of colours that barely resembled you on the other side of a thick barrier of tears. But he was too scared to wipe them away, filled with the horrible suspicion that you would vanish from his sight if he only dared to try.

“L-let me help you”, he begged with a broken voice. “Please, y/n, let me help you.”

“Peter…”

“Please…”

You shook your head, taking a deep breath despite the piercing pain spreading in your torso. “There’s nothing you can do.”

Frustration bubbled up in his stomach at those words, a mess of emotions clashing in his mind and heart. No, he refused to believe it. “Don’t say it.”

“It’s true.”

“Shut up”, Peter hissed, clenching his jaw. How could you be so stubbornly calm and almost resigned about it?

He was your best friend, you were one of the most important people in his life, he cared about you more than he cared about anyone else, more that he cared about himself, he couldn’t imagine his existence without you… there was no way in the World he couldn’t do anything to help you.

“Peter, there’s no point–”

“I said shut up.”

Like there was some kind of specific correlation between what he was doing and showing you that he could do something to help you, Peter yanked you forward, crashing his lips onto yours as your chests collided with an audible thud.

He kissed you with the ferocious passion of a desperate man, his arms wrapping themselves around you like ivy, caging you in a suffocating, yet freeing embrace, his hands exploring the mysteries of a body he had criminally taken for granted for too long.

Your incredulity didn’t have a long life, the pain long forgotten as your fingers got lost in his hair, wearing the soft locks like the most precious jewellery. You kissed him back as if you were engaging in the fight of your life, effortlessly following his lead like you had been created to do just that in your existence.

Never breaking the contact, Peter hastily backed you up towards your small bed and unceremoniously pushed you down onto the mattress, wasting no time in covering your body with his and getting between your thighs, immediately starting to grind his core against yours.

Just as eagerly, you wrapped your legs around his hips and gripped his shoulders pulling him in and breathlessly whimpering his name as soon as your hungry mouths parted, like that could’ve drawn him even closer.

You had dreamed of this moment for so long, you weren’t going to complain, no matter how unexpected all of it was.

“Peter…”

“That’s…” Peter threw his head back, licking his lips, still savouring your taste, an obscenely blissed out expression on his face as his grunts mixed with your soft moans. “That’s the only thing I wanna hear from you.”

The sight was nothing short of divine. Almost as divine as the feeling of knowing that, hadn’t it been for the layers of clothing separating your bodies, he would’ve been making you his, ruining you for anyone else… after all, he had already done that to your heart.

You gasped when, without warning, he grabbed the collar of your shirt and pulled, tearing it down the middle, his eyes going round and shining bright when your bare breasts came into view.

“Beautiful…”, he purred in contemplation, letting his thumb circle one of your nipples. The whine that simple touch elicited from you emboldened him and, with a devilish grin, he attached his mouth to your skin.

“Peter!”, you yelped, a hand tangling itself through his soft messy curls and the other one fisting his shirt and yanking the fabric. You needed the damn thing off, you wanted to touch him. Feel him.

“Shh”, he cooed, kissing your sternum as a particularly sharp thrust dragged another moan out of your lips. “I got you, petal”

Petal.

It was just a word, yet it was all it took you to remember how things really were, to understand what was truly going on in that precise moment.

And what was going on was that your best friend – whom you loved more than words could convey – was trying to fuck you and that you were letting him. And what was worse, was that he probably – no, he definitely – just wanted to practice, so that he could be ready for when he would do those things with his true love. MJ.

That was all you had become to him, you painfully realised. What remained of his best friend, was now nothing more than a chance to test himself and his abilities.

“P-Peter…”

Your fingers wrapped themselves around his wrist, barely encircling it, and the original intention was to remove his hand from you, but you only ended up keeping it there, even arching your back to give him better access to your body.

“No.”

Yes.

It was so fucking wrong it almost became right. Almost.

“Stop…”

He didn’t hear you, too absorbed by how amazingly right you felt in his arms, on his lips, against him…

Peter discovered that the more he took from you, the more he wanted to give you. He discovered that he needed to be inside of you, that he longed to have you under him, praising how good he was making you feel, telling him how much you cared about him, repeating his name until it would no longer make sense to his ears.

That night, Peter discovered that he wanted to make love to you. Not MJ, you. His y/nn.

“Stop…”

No, he didn’t just want to make love to you.

He wanted to hold your hand, tickle you so much you would cry-laugh, then kiss those tears away as his lips traced every inch of your face. He wanted to fall asleep with his head in your lap and your fingers in his hair as you read for him, he wanted to wake up next to you, whisper cute silly compliments in your ear, he wanted to make you smile and pinch your cheeks.

He wanted to yell to the whole World how lucky he was to have you by his side. And that would’ve meant murmuring in your ear while you were cuddled up against each other, because he wanted you to be his World.

Peter Benjamin Parker discovered that he was in love with you.

“I SAID STOP!”, you screamed with what little remained of your breath, the strangled shattered sound that left your throat dragging him out of that inexplicable delight and turning his blood to ice.

He had heard you this time.

Panic washed over him, the suspect that he might have made you uncomfortable, or worse, hurt you, slithering up his spine and sinking its fangs into the back of his neck, poisoning the ecstasy that had descended upon him. “y/n, what–”

He didn’t get to finish the sentence because you shoved him off of you – more like, he let you – and turned to your side, hunching over yourself as you coughed uncontrollably, blood and petals spilling between the fingers covering your mouth.

Peter smelled it before he saw it, but there was something unusual about it, a note to that scent that shouldn’t have been there.

Hyacinths.

It made no sense, but you were coughing hyacinths.

The dreadful discovery, and all that followed in its wake, hit him like a fucking high-speed train.

No…

What had he done?

When he touched your shoulder, you tried to get away from that bed, from him, and you didn’t know if that was helping you or just hurting you more. It was all pointless, tough, because as soon as your feet touched the floor, you fell like a marionette that’d just got its strings cut off.

“Y/N!!!”

Peter rushed crawled off the bed in a hurry, not giving a damn about his hands touching the bloody sheets, and took you in his arms as he sat on the floor, scorching tears once again clouding his eyes, terror and guilt doing the same to his brain, the spider sense going off like crazy.

You were dying. And now it was because he was killing you.

“Nonononono…”

Red and purple were filling his vision. They were painting your mouth, your throat, your chest, and now his own clothes. But he couldn’t let go of you. He couldn’t let go of his love.

“y/n!”

“Y-your shirt…”, you shivered, coughing more blood and petals “I’m sorr–”

“No, love, no”, Peter shushed you, caressing your face in hope that could bring you some relief. He began to stand up, but you winced at the slightest movement, so he was forced to stop and resume his previous position, cradling you like he was afraid to break you. “There’s nothing to be sorry about, you’re gonna be okay, you hear me? Y-you’re gonna be okay because we have to go on a date.”

He was rambling now, imprisoned in a merciless fight against time, death and all sorts of regrets he never thought he would get up until that moment.

He regretted every single time he looked at you without seeing you and every single time he did see you, but decided not to.

“We have to, get it? A-and we have to because I have to kiss you, because I have to spend the entire time telling you how much I love you, okay? Did you hear that? I love you, I love you, I love you…”

You pressed the side of your face against his chest, trying to focus on the beating of his heart so that it would block everything out. Everything that wasn’t the two of you in that moment.

If that was going to be your end, you wanted it to be with Peter.

“I love you, too”, you exhaled, as all your strength slowly started to abandon you. So that was it, then. Only a few instants of love for a life spent wishing it from afar. But that love came from Peter, your Peter, and that made it worth it.

You looked up and a pained smile appeared on your lips as Peter cupped your cheek. You reached out to push his hair out of his face, only sparing the rebel lock you adored so much.

Peter sniffed, crying uncontrollably, the tiny little drops falling onto your skin, mixing with your own.

“I’d love to go on that date.”

“W-we will…”

You were about to nod when your body stiffened all at once, then went inert in his arms, your hand falling limp by your side as you fell into the dark.

“y/n!!!”

Waking up felt like a fist colliding with your chest, forcing air back into your lungs as a striking white light blinded you. Out of pure instinct, you threw an arm over your eyes to protect them.

“Oh, you’re awake”, someone stated, causing you to look to your left and raise your arm, focusing on the silhouette of a female figure. A doctor was standing next to your bed, hands tucked in the pockets of her immaculate coat and an indecipherable expression on her face. “How are you feeling?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but then you realised what you were about to say. Good. You were feeling good.

More puzzled than ever, you pushed yourself up on your elbows until you were in a sitting position, the fatigue and ache you were expecting to feel while doing so, were nowhere to be found in that hospital room.

You pressed a hand against your sternum and felt nothing but a regular, perfectly healthy pulse. “W-what happened?”, you wondered, looking back at the doctor, who was still observing you in silence.

“Hanahaki disease”, the woman explained, not that you really needed to know. “And in a pretty advanced stage, too, judging by the quantity of blood and fully grown flowers”, she added. “But don’t worry: you’re good now, everything’s okay.”

Judging from her face, maybe she was expecting some sort of reaction, but you just stared at her in complete silence, pure confusion written all over your features.

“Spider-Man found you and brought you here.”

Your jaw dropped, your eyebrows shooting up to your hairline and your confusion transitioning to disbelief. “He has… are you serious?”

So that meant everything that happened wasn’t just a dream…

The doctor nodded, looking a bit perplexed by your question. That didn’t last long, though. “You must’ve scared the life out of him”, she went on, smiling to herself as she got lost in the memory of meeting a superhero. Not the most professional behaviour to adopt with a patient who had just dodged death lying right there… but you couldn’t really blame her, after all.

“I’ve spent like half an hour reassuring him that you were fine”, she recalled, tucking her hair behind her ear, and you had to fight the urge to roll your eyes.

But as it usually happened, your little brain needed to be triggered by words and that was exactly how things went, making you come to the realisation that all that talk about Peter bringing you to the hospital had taken your attention away from a quite important topic.

In all fairness, you weren’t always this slow – your constant anxiety and overthinking wouldn’t allow it –, but you had nearly died: you figured you could cut yourself some slack for needing a bit more time to put two and two together.

At first the doctor had told you that you were good, now that you were fine. Subtle variations to communicate the same message.

“But to be honest, I understand where he came from: you were covered in blood… one of the interns actually fainted as soon as he saw you. We all thought there was nothing that could be done to–”

“Wait, what did you just say?”, you interrupted her, and that startled her a little. Maybe you were coming off as rude, too, but you didn’t really have time to worry about that.

“That you made an intern faint?”, she repeated, arching an eyebrow. “It was his first round, poor guy–”

“No, the ‘me being fine’ part”, you specified, cutting her off again. It was urgent, manners could wait. “What do you mean?”

“You healed”, the doctor said as if it was the most obvious thing ever. “You’re safe now.”

You were not quite sure why she would feel the need to repeat it, and the suspect that she probably thought your confusion was nothing but mere dumbness did cross your mind, but you chose not to question it.

“In fact, you were already safe when you got here. All we had to do was remove the last flowers you couldn’t spit out when you fainted.”

Your jaw dropped dramatically, your eyes nearly popping out of their sockets, the loudest “What?” blocked in your throat, between your vocal cords, without a chance of getting out.

When it became clear that you wouldn’t be able to emit another sound, your gaze fell into your lap, focusing entirely on your folded hands, on the skin you had relentlessly tormented during those last three months and a half. It was a habit you had made yours really quickly, the cuts and scratches on your fingers requiring the excuse of a new cooking course to cover their origin.

Peter had been the hardest to convince, and part of you wanted to believe that it was because of some sort of special connection the two of you shared, a bond that made it impossible for one to lie to the other, or some hopelessly romantic shit like that.

And as you stared at what you had done to yourself in the name of your unrequited love for him you couldn’t force things to make sense for the life of you.

The previous doctor you had talked to had been clear about it, stating that you had only two options to save yourself: an extremely dangerous surgery with very little chance of success, or doing your best to fall out of love with Peter.

But you still remembered Peter. You still loved him… and yet somehow you were no longer ill. So how…

“I feel like I gave you too much information altogether…”, the doctor commented, giving you a weird look you didn’t even notice. “I’m gonna leave you now, so you can rest a bit more, okay? You’re still weak.”

With that, she left the room, without bothering to wait for an answer that wasn’t going to come anyway.

You didn’t move a muscle, staring into the void with your head hung low, the terrifying, sublime sensation of something both worse and better than despair weighting on your shoulders. It was the faintest spark of hope, and you would’ve gladly let it flare up and burn you to the ground.

A little noise dragged you out of your thoughts, and it took you nothing to recognize it: it was the sound of scratching on glass, and that could only mean one thing.

You turned towards the window, finding Spider-Man cautiously peaking his head in. “Peter?”, you exhaled, releasing a breath you had no idea you were holding.

“Uhm… hey…” You could perceive the insecurity in his voice, and even with his face being completely covered, you just knew that a soft baby pink was dusting his cheeks and ears. “I know it’s past visit-time, but… mind if I come in?”

For a few seconds, seeing him there, hearing him asking you that brought you back to your room, with flowers growing in your lungs, a shirt he hadn’t torn, lips he hadn’t claimed and a body he hadn’t touched nor tried to make his. A love he hadn’t poured on you.

“Y-yes…”

Peter carefully stepped inside the room, shutting the window behind him and taking off his mask – him being so comfortable doing it had to have something to do with Karen hacking the security cameras, you were more than positive about that.

“H-hey”, he waved nervously, taking a look around, the thought of you having to stay there on your own making him uncomfortable. Yes, he knew you were no longer in danger, but how could they leave you alone like that after what just happened?

“Hey.”

“Uhm…” He scratched the nape of his neck, chewing on his lips. “I wanted to bring you flowers”, he finally managed to say something coherent, immediately cursing himself for it. “B-but then I thought… you know…”

“It’s okay.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yes”, you confirmed, patting the mattress and scooting over a bit in a silent invitation. “They say I’m good now.”

“And what do you say?”, Peter insisted, sitting right next to you, maybe closer than needed. “Are you feeling good?”

You nodded, letting him take your hands in his, your past lies blatantly clear in every small wound his eyes were able to find. Guilt washed over him as he gently brushed his fingertips over them, wishing he could kiss the pain away, wishing that you would let him.

“I should’ve known”, he muttered.

“I’m a better liar than you think”, you joked, lightly bumping your forehead against his, causing him to let out a bitter chuckle. “I’m sorry if I scared you.”

“You’re sorry?”, Peter echoed you in shock, barely dropping your hands. “You are apologising to me?”

“… for scaring you”, you repeated quietly, hanging your head low. “And lying to you.”

“You’re…” Frustrated and at loss for words, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Come here, you idiot” , he said then, opening his arms in resignation.

The simple gesture felt like a miraculous ointment on your soul and you let yourself fall into his tight embrace, nostalgia washing over you like a tsunami. Hiding your face into the crook of his neck, you inhaled the fresh scent of his soap, discovering that even the coarse material of his suit rubbing onto your cheek and irritating your skin was something that you had deeply missed.

“You’re incredible, I swear”, Peter broke the silence, caressing your back in an improvised massage. “You’re lucky that I’m in love with you, or I would swing out of this room right after a sentence like that.”

You tensed up and he perceived that, but he didn’t let go of you.

“I don’t love MJ.”

“What?”, you hummed, keeping your face buried in his chest. It seemed so real, but you weren’t sure you could actually believe it. It would mean having to be vulnerable, coming out of your emotional trenches end exposing yourself to the wonderfully frightening possibility of being worthy of love.

Of Peter Parker’s love.

“I do not love her. I thought I did. I don’t.” He was speaking about it so calmly, like she truly represented nothing but a simple friend in his eyes.

It sounded to good to be true.

“Peter, you’re just saying this because–”

“Oh no, don’t you dare”, Peter stopped you with the most adorable pout. This time, it was him who squeezed your shoulders and pushed you back just enough to look into your eyes, forcing you to listen to him.

“I love you”, he declared firmly, leaving no space for misinterpretation.

Part of you wanted to look away in shame, but you didn’t. Appealing to all your courage, you held his golden-brown gaze, the mesmerizing warmth hitting you like it was the first time. Could you accept that light in your life?

“I've been an idiot not to realise it sooner”, Peter reprimanded his stupid past self. “And I know I showed it in a terrible way – probably the worst way possible –, a-and I hate that I almost had to lose you to understand it, but, I love you. I’m in love with you. You and only you, y/n.”

His eyebrows knit together, determination dripping from his tone. “And I don’t care what you say, I’m gonna repeat it to exhaustion if that’s what it takes to get it in that head of yours.”

He chocked on his own breath, his heart skipping a beat at the thought of you considering him an asshole. “Wait, no, I do care about what you have to say”, he tried to clarify. “Please do tell me what you have to say, that was just me being dramatic, please don’t think I don’t care, because I do, I care so much–”

“Peter.” You calling his name, combined with your fingertips touching his lips, effectively silenced him, and the poor guy stared back at you like a lost puppy, waiting for your verdict.

His hands descended onto your waist, toying with the hem of your shirt. You melted into his touch, dragging the pads your fingers along his chapped bottom lip. He mindlessly kissed them, making warmth spread along your cheeks and ears.

“… if it’s not you saying that you love me, I don’t wanna hear it.”

It took Peter a while to fully process what you just told him, the rejection he was expecting only worsening his discomfort, but when he did… oh Lord, his smile would’ve put the sun to shame.

There was nothing more beautiful in the whole universe than Peter’s joy, a mesmerizing spectacle you were incredibly grateful to be witnessing. It was like welcoming an entire sunrise in your being, a thousand little sparks blooming inside of your chest. What was once filled with deadly petals carrying your sorrow, was now blessed with the light of his love.

And there was no need to accept that light: it was already filling your heart and you had no intention of letting it go.

“Not even if it’s me saying how much I love you?”, he teased you, his breath tickling your fingertips, the hypnotizing movement of his mouth when those three last words left it a sight that would forever be engraved in your memory.

You pretended to ponder it. “I guess we can make an exception.”

Usually, words tended to lose their meaning when pronounced one too many times. But that didn’t happen to Peter Parker.

Because there could never be one too many times when the topic was his love for you.

A/n: Thank you so much for reading this! Let me know what you think, if you feel like it, I’d love to hear your thoughts 💜

Taglist: @thollandsdarling @hunnybunimdun @namoreno @nocturnalms @vendettaparker @wildxwidow @mn-jun @thisisparadisemylove @belovedholland @blankspaceblankday @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah @mrparkerwillseeyounow @indouloureux @hemlockhearts @obsessed-with-a-fictional-man @melodicheauxxo @seolaseoul @peteprker @peetahpahkah @marajillana @yeetzel @brooklynscherry-z @liltimmys @jahayla-parker @moniffazictress11 @spideysbae @vibesdontlie @raajali3 @lnmp89 @sherlockstrangewolf

Peter Parker taglist: @omegadumb42069 @spideyspeaches

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#peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #tom!peter parker #tom!peter #tshwritersnet #spiderman #tom!spiderman #tom holland #peter parker x fem!reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker angst #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #aged up!peter parker #college!peter parker #hanahaki!au #things that look like nothing

[oncasette]

𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐂. send in a character + a scenario for a blurb

and i might spend all summer with her on my mind

with peter parker. summer romance with him omg shut up.

college!peter x out of state!reader

peter knew he thought about you. all the time, actually. more than he knows he should, and definitely when he knows he's supposed to be thinking of other things.

like his chemistry lab, or his econ final, or not face planting into the wall in front of his face while he's swinging. you know, other things. yet, every time he attempts to refocus, his train of thought seems to veer further off its tracks. they stumble into dangerous territory, into thoughts of how pretty you'd looked in class that morning or how soft your skin looked or, or how desperately kissable you looked when he caught you looking up at him from across the library later that afternoon.

he doesn't even think he realized how much you occupied his thoughts, truly, until after the term had ended. until it all clicked, and he realized he wasn't going to be seeing you again until september. that, this wasn't like high school anymore and, instead of living a couple of blocks away like his old friends had, you were flying back to your hometown in two days and he'd be thousands of miles away.

"hey, peter," you stop him in the quad.

"yeah?" he asks, begging and pleading and hoping you don't see the way his cheeks have flushed in the ten seconds since you'd gathered his attention.

"keep in touch?" you say, fingers twiddling with a piece of paper you'd torn from your planner. it's just the corner, barely smaller than the palm of your hand when unfolded with your phone number scrawled across it in a glitter gel pen.

you're already starting to step past him when his mouth starts to form syllables again. "you wanna- yeah, oh- yeah, definitely, keep in touch."

"see you in the fall, peter," you call over your shoulder, only a foot and a half away from him at this point.

"yep, fall," he squeaks out.

#r's 2.5k #peter parker #spiderman #tom holland x reader #tom holland #mcu!peter #college!peter parker #peter parker x reader #college!peter parker x reader

[sacharinee]

cute moments i imagine with peter pt. 2!

pairing: peter parker x reader

wc: 2006

a/n: hi guys!! thank u for the support on my last post - it means a lot to me :,) i dont rlly like this one but oh well. i swear these posts r supposed to be little blurbs but they keep writing out to be kinda long. anywaysss, i’d always imagine peter being the cutest when shopping with him. also peter is 100% a passenger princess and u cant convince me otherwise. this isnt my best work but im kinda tired of editing it so i hope u like it :(

part: I lll

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“may, have you seen my good cologne?!” 

you straighten your outfit as you stand outside peter’s apartment, coming to pick him up for your little shopping date. you’re dressed in a pretty black skirt with sheer dark stockings and a fuzzy cardigan to keep you warm. you know peter loves your skirts.

“what good cologne?” “the one i bought two months ago? the one that smells nice?” “oh… i threw it out. happy used the rest of it before he took me out to dinner.”

you can already picture his pinched face in disgust and you chuckle at the thought of peter and happy using the same cologne.

you’ve barely knocked three times before peter opens the door, hair messy, pink cheeks, and a soft smile adorning his cute face. 

“hi baby, you look pretty,” he breathes out. you giggle at his appearance, “hi petey,” planting a sweet kiss on his cheek.

“oh my goodness, y/n? hi! i haven’t seen you around in a while, i missed you!” you see may peek her head behind your boyfriend, looking extremely excited to see you.

you open your mouth to greet her but get cut off when peter rushes out the door grabbing his coat, “kay see you later, may! love you!” he departs. you sneak a quick “bye!” to let her know you heard her.

peter grabs your hand and swings your laced hands together as you both walk down the dark hallway, “that was mean,” you tease. peter sighs back at you, “she would’ve made you stay and try her new meatloaf recipe, and trust me, you don’t want to try it.”

his comment makes you laugh. you guess he’s right, but may’s been a second mom to you ever since you can remember, and you’ve had your fair share of eating one of her meal disasters before.

“hold on,” peter pushes you into a small and secluded corner of the corridor, shielding you from looking at the rest of the view and only him. he looks a little nervous when he looks into your eyes, then down at your plump and inviting lips. your left-hand grabs onto his bicep, “what’re you-” he takes you by surprise, shutting you up quickly with a deprived kiss. his fingers are warm against your chilled face. his rough, calloused fingers graze your soft puffy cheeks and you lean deeper into him, tilting your head for more access. 

you feel his other hand snake around the small of your back, gently tugging you closer to him and your hand grips tighter against his flexed arm. your free hand trickles up the side of his neck feather-like, sending chills down his spine. only you can make his knees weak and leave him completely melted into a puddle with a single touch. it’s why he’s addicted to you. he craves how serene you cause him to be one minute, and then utterly captivated and haunted by you the next. 

his kiss was urgent and needy, one that was suppressed for days due to his absence from a previous mission. his hand moves from your cheek to your velvety hair, and his fingers travel behind your ear, delicately carding himself through your smooth strands. his mouth is hot on yours and his tongue sweeps slightly across your bottom lip, to which you eagerly responded by opening your mouth wider, inviting him. you hum into the kiss; you feel soft against him, silken and satiny. you’re too much for him. your blazing touch, your round lips, that sweet honey-like scent of yours, and that short skirt you wear- you make him dizzy. 

peter breaks off first, licking his lips and faintly panting; your foreheads rest against each other. a simple “missed you” with a shrug is all of an excuse he can muster up for you. you peck his lips gingerly, “i missed you too.” a shy smile graces his face and you think it’s wild how diffident he quickly gets after knocking the wind out of you. you snap out of whatever trance peter held you in and realize you really want to get going on your planned shopping date with him, “c’mon, it gets dark quickly.”

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

you and peter both make it to your car in the busy parking lot to which he walks a few steps before you, coming to your side of the car and opening the door for you. you laugh at his gesture and express an appreciative “thank you” before getting in. he’s been doing this for years and it never fails to make you all giddy inside. you think it’s the cutest thing ever, and it makes you laugh even more when you consider the fact that he’s riding in the passenger seat and he still makes romantic efforts for you. 

you drop your purse off in the backseat when peter enters and buckles in, then you start the car and pull out of the parking lot, off to your first destination. “so where we goin’?” he hooks up his phone to your bluetooth and plays music from your shared playlist.

“well, we could go to barnes and noble? i finished reading all the books on my list so i was thinking i could buy some more, and then we could get some food if you’re hungry.” “sure, y/n/n” he smiles at you. 

you originally wanted to make it a girl’s day with mj and betty; you figured it’d be nice to spend some time with your two other best friends. but once mj heard the word ‘shopping’ come out of your mouth, she immediately declined, claiming that she needed to study for an upcoming geology exam. you understood at first but then realized classes didn’t even start for another four weeks because of winter break. betty also had to decline when she got asked to babysit last minute. but you don’t mind peter tagging along instead, in fact, you prefer it. you’ve been separated for quite some time since he went away on that big mission. 

back when you and peter were both 16, he got his license a full month before you did. however, you were the one that got a car first, a hand-me-down, which was gifted to you by your parents when you turned 17. so for the next two years, you’d arrive at peter’s apartment before school, pick him up, and carpool together. 

you don’t mind it though, you like driving. peter once confessed to you that being in the driver’s seat makes him a little anxious and causes his senses to go a little haywire, especially driving in new york. ever since then, peter prefers to be your little passenger princess, bringing you coffee or bagels from delmar’s deli as a thank you.

so you enjoy doing the little things for peter. you like making his life easier any way you can. 

usually, when you’re out running errands or going to the mall, peter rarely has time to go with you. because of his part-time job as spider-man, it takes a big chunk of his freedom away from hanging around with you. but the second he does, he’ll drop whatever he’s doing to be with you. and today is one of those days.

“okay, we’re here!” the beloved bookstore could almost be considered your second home, seeing as the amount of time you spend here is excessive. you reach out for your purse in the backseat, turn off the engine, and open your car door. it barely even opens a few inches when it forcefully shuts back on you. peter’s staring right at you through the window with a blank expression and pursed lips. all you can offer is a look of shock and confusion. he waits a few seconds before opening the car door for you with a bashful smile forming on his face. 

you gape at him in bewilderment as you shriek with laughter, “what the- what is wrong with you!?” peter’s no better, laughing back at you and grabbing your hand to pull you out of the car.

“y- your face! oh my god,” he pretends to wipe a tear from his eye. you roll your eyes and shake your head at his antics, “i can’t stand you.”

when you enter the store, your loud banter outside is a stark contrast to the environment inside. it’s quiet and reserved, people are consumed in a different reality as they flip through the pages of the book they curiously selected. 

“let’s go over here.” you drag him into the romance section, requesting him to have his arms outward parallel to each other. for the next ten minutes, peter follows you around like a lost puppy, carrying your large stack of books while you give a brief description of every novel you pick up. he thinks it’s adorable how excited you get about the littlest things.

“ooh! this one is my favorite type of trope,” you pick out another book and whisper the next words that come out of your mouth, “it’s a mafia romance.” you watch his face contort into disgust and confusion, “ew, why would anyone want to date a mobster, that’s so dangerous. they’re so risky.” he shakes his head in distaste. you snort back at him, “why do you think i’m with you?” peter immediately frowns back at you, “hey!”

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

you take some time with your boyfriend to sort through the books that you’re thinking of purchasing. peter wasn’t much help, every time you’d ask for his opinion on a book, he’d mumble the same “yea, i like that one” or “that’s a nice book.” nevertheless, you narrow your choices down to three novels, and head down to the registers to check out. 

once hearing your total, you shuffle your wallet out of your purse to pay, only to immediately hear the transaction go through successfully. confusion paints your face until you look at peter shoving his phone into his back pocket and grabbing your stack of books, “we don’t need the receipt, thank you,” and he’s off. 

you rush to catch up with him. “peter,” you groan, “why would you do that? you didn’t have to pay for my books.” “i know” is all he says. you instantly feel bad. although you appreciate peter doing sweet things like this for you, you’re always against him spending his money on you like that. 

he’s by the exit when peter realizes you’re still standing near the end of the registers. he walks back up to you, “baby, it’s no big deal, really. i haven’t seen you in a while. i wanted to do something nice for you.” his eyes are genuine when he offers a small shrug. you mirror peter’s blushing smile.

“thank you.” his eyes crinkle when you plant a kiss on the corner of his mouth. “at least let me buy you a latte.” you tug at peter’s hand and he lets you drag him to the connected starbucks. “you sit,” urging him to take a seat in the seating area. you don’t trust him to come up with you to registers anymore. when you place your order, you remember you still own a gift card with leftover credit from the cafe and you hand it to the cashier, deciding to use it after glancing at the expiration date. you turn back to your boyfriend, watching him flip through your chosen books. 

when the baristas call out your name, you happily take the drink, giving it to peter, and taking his hand to lead yourselves back to the car. he takes a sip of his latte and raises his brows in contentment, “you still remember my order?” “course i do, it’s the same as always.”

you’re buckling yourself in and starting the car when he takes another sip of his hot milk coffee, “did you really buy my drink with a leftover gift card?” your shocked face tinges in embarrassment and you look back at his raised eyebrow and smug smile.

“what, it expires today!”

#m’s clubhouse! 🎧 #m writes ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ #peter parker x y/n #mcu!peter x reader #fluff peter #peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker smut #peter parker fluff #tom holland #tom holland smut #peter parker imagine #peter parker blurb #college peter parker #tom!peter parker x reader #spiderman #spider-man #spiderman x reader #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fic #tom holland x reader #tom holland peter parker #peter parker angst #peter parker writing #marvel #peter x reader #baby peter

[userholland]

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

[multifariousqueer]

I’ll do anything, Professor

a/n: Hiiiii! I’ve been meaning to post and make this for a while now so here it is! This is possibly my filthiest work lol. I hope you enjoy! <3

warnings: SMUTTTT, age gap (19 and 24), teacher!Peter x student!reader, oral(f and m receiving), yandere behavior(both parties), spanking, no protection(wrap it before you tap it), Dom!Peter x Sub!Reader, angst, toxic relationships, cursing, daddy kink, overstimulation

summary: You’re failing physics and your professor doesn’t want that to happen ;)

No matter how hard you tried, you just didn’t get it. It didn’t matter who explained it, you just couldn’t grasp physics. It was hard for no reason and completely pointless for what you wanted to become in life. All you wanted was to be a computer scientist and you couldn’t fathom how Physics fit into that. But if you wanted your degree, you had to do the class. Luckily for you and every girl and some guys, the professor was hot. He also explained everything in super great detail. You had had a crush on him since the beginning of the year and every now and again, you caught him staring at you. You always wore tight and revealing clothes the days you had physics and it never payed off(or so you thought).

It was like clockwork. You woke up at 9:00am, got a shower, put on a short skirt that was a bit short for comfort, and a crop top that accentuated your tits. You said bye to your roommate and headed out to Dunkin before heading to class. You always made sure to get there early so you can talk with Professor Parker. He enjoyed your little discussions about your other classes, the little bit you did understand about physics and your collective love for the Star Wars franchise. You started watching it for him but it quickly became your favorite series. He enjoyed talking to you and hearing what you had to say about some of the most basic stuff. 

You walked in and struck up a conversation with the man:

“Hiiii Mr Parker.” you said, a bit flirtier than you'll admit.

“Hi Ms. L/n.” Peter said plainly.

You struck up a conversation over the new baristas at Dunkin messing up your refresher and before you knew it, it was 10:15am and class was about to start. You happily took your seat but not before Peter caught a glimpse of your outfit and your panties underneath. He felt himself grow hard but he ignored it. 

Class had begun and you were still confused. You had managed to grip the key concepts but everything else was going over your head. You just sat and stared at your professor until you heard him call your name:

“Ms. L/n, do you know one of the four fundamental forces?”

“Uhmm, gravity?” you replied.

“Correct. The gravitational force is the fourth and final fundamental force. Good Job, Ms. L/n.” He said. If you weren’t mistaken, you heard a hint of pride in his voice.

You had smiled and went back to looking at your laptop with your notes on it. 

Before long, class was almost over and Mr. Parker was giving his closing statements:

“Okay class don't forget your homework on Newton’s first law and please do your project, it’s due at 11:59 at night. And as always-” He started

“Stay Curious.” The class and you finished.

He smiled and said:

“Very good.”

Everyone got up to leave before he went up to you and asked to speak with you. You happily obliged and he showed you your grades.

“Ms. L/n, you’ve barely gotten above a C. Is everything alright?” He asked, voice dripping with concern. He pulled up a chair and you sat in it with your legs crossed.

“Yeah it’s just I’m having a hard time understanding and focusing.” You said shamefully.

“What’s drawing away your focus? And what do you need help understanding?” He asked.

“Just some stuff happening at home. I’ll find a tutor don't worry.” You said

“I don’t mean to pry but if you need to talk I’m here and I’m also a part time tutor.” He said.

“Since when?” You asked in a flirtatious way. You had never heard him talk about tutoring anybody before.

“Since my favorite student told me she needs help.” He replied. You felt both honored and a bit turned on at his response.

You chuckled but before you could say anything he said: “Meet me here at 10:30 tomorrow.” You knew he only had classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays so it would just be you two.

“Yes, sir.” You said with a smirk. 

Peter felt his pants tighten a bit and his cheeks heat up. He felt guilty because he wanted to help you but at the same time, he wanted to fuck the shit out of you. The age gap felt weird to him but lets face it, his best friend is dating a 18 year old so it is what it is. He knew he couldn’t take much more of your teasing so he hatched a plan.

The next day

The day started as any other did except, you were ecstatic to be alone with your favorite teacher-turned-tutor. You put on perfume, curled your hair and even put on a bit of makeup. Your outfit was the perfect mix of slutty yet subtle. Your skirt was short and your top showed so much of your cleavage it was basically a bra. You sported knee high socks with forces to match. You grabbed your stuff and headed to his class.

The second you got there his eyes traveled to your face then your tits. He felt his dick grow harder and harder with each step you took. You smiled and said:

“Ready to learn professor.” 

“Sit” He smirked.

Things were going well until he put his hand on your thigh. You smiled knowing that your outfit was working. You would be in his bed in no time. You exposed your neck by flipping your hair and sending the subtle scent of your perfume his way. It was driving him crazy. You felt your arousal grow in your panties and your nipples grow hard. He could smell your pheromones and he could only imagine how good you would feel around him. 

It was a game of truce. He would raise his hand higher as you would tease him. You knew you two wouldn’t last long so while he was talking you decided to be bold.

You were giving your two cents and leaning closer and closer to him. He was leaning as you were leaning; his brain going berserk over you sharing the same desires as him and before you knew it, your lips had met. He grabbed your chin and migrated to grabbing your jaw in his hand. Your delicate hands holding his face. He pulled you up with him and placed you on his desk.

“Are you sure about this Professor?” you breathed

“Yes. Are you?” he breathed

“Yea.” you moaned

The conversation was quick. He began rubbing your clothed cunt while simultaneously, grabbing your tits and kissing you. You let out a whimper which prompted him to kiss down your body and pull down your panties. You gripped the table for dear life as he began to lick a stripe up your cunt. You let out a moan and gripped his hair. He slid a finger into your dripping wet hole and said:

“I’ve been dreaming of this pussy for months.” Before kissing and sucking your clit.

“I’ve been dreaming of you daddy. Fucking me so good and cumming in me.” You moaned.

“mmmmm so kinky.” he smirked before slipping a second finger into you. 

You felt close to your edge. The pleasure causing your cunt to tighten around him:

“Don’t cum yet princess.” He said

“Please sir! I’ll do anything to cum.” you said desperately,

That the straw that broke the camel’s back. He knew he had you wrapped around his not-so-little finger then. He had you exactly where he wanted you.

“Anything?” He asked with a twisted smirk on his face.

“Anything.” you whined.

“Get on your knees.” He instructed.

You did as you were told and watched as he pulled down his pants and revealed his cock:

“Mmmmm you're so fucking big.” you said dreamily.

“Watch your mouth princess.” He said in a dangerous tone.

“Yes sir.” You said.

You flicked your tongue over the tip of his cock and ran a finger up his length. He let out the hottest whimper you had ever heard. You took what you could fit in your mouth and throat, and wrapped your hand around the rest. Your mouth and hand both bobbed up and down taking him as far as you could go. He moaned and pushed your head down as you bobbed. You felt the precum leak out of his tip and removed your hand to take more in. His balls hit your face as he slammed himself in and out of your mouth. To him, you looked absolutely gorgeous taking him like that. Your mouth covered in spit and precum as he thrusted into your face. Pretty soon his movement stilled and he gripped your head at his base; letting you know he came. He removed himself from your throat to reveal your tongue smothered in him. You gave him doe eyes before swallowing his cum. He smiled at you and said:

“Good girl. you earned your reward.”

You had assumed your rewarded would be an A or B on your next test but it was something even better.

He pulled you up and turned you around. He bent you over like you were nothing and smacked your ass. 

“I should've fucked you a long time ago if I knew you’d be so good.” he said.

You moaned at the stinging sensation as he did it again. He kissed where he had marked you and inserted himself inside of you. You moaned at the wonderful new sensation and at how amazing he felt inside of you. He was right: you two should've fucked a long time ago. 

He began slow at first, bending over with you to kiss your shoulder blade and thrusting into you while snaking a hand around to your clit,.

“You're such a good girl for daddy, princess.” he said deeply

“Thank you sir.” you replied

He stood up straight and began to fuck you. His dick felt so amazing and his hand felt just as good. Your eyes rilled back in your head as he pounded into you. The sound of your collective moans and skin slapping together filled the auditorium sized room. You felt his other hand grab your wrists and hold them together as his pace increased. Your moans and whimpered were getting louder as your wave of pleasure came crashing in like a tide. You felt yourself tighten around him which caused his pace to become sloppier and sloppier. You convulsed at the stimulation and came around him. It didn’t take long for him to finish in you as well. Your collective moans slowed as you came down. He pulled you around to him and kissed you sloppily:

“Let’s do this again, yea?” He breathed.

“Of course.” You winked.

You limped out of the room with your stuff in shaking arms. Making sure to sway your ass just a bit. 

When you got back to your dorm, you went to change when you realized your panties were gone. 

When Peter saw you had left your panties, he debated trying to find you and give them back but he decided to leave them in his desk drawer and give them a sniff whenever he missed you.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker #dark!peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker smut #daddy peter parker x little reader #peter parker angst #peter parker imagine #teacher x student #college!peter parker #yanderesmut #dark smut #Dark!Peter Parker x you #smut #professor!Peter Parker x reader #dom!peterparkerxsub!reader #dom!peter #tom holland x fem #tom holland x reader #mcu fanfiction #tom holland spiderman #tom holland smut #tom!peter parker smut #tom holland #yandere peter parker