#tom holland uni au

[shellshocklove]

blurb: i want to forget | tom holland

pairing/AU: university AU - modern king!tom holland x female!reader

summary: reunions are always sweet, aren’t they?

warnings: swearing, infertility, smut (+18 mdni!!), fingering, unprotected sex, creampie

word count: 3.1k

a/n: this one’s interesting that’s for sure! very curious to hear people’s thoughts on this tbh! 😳 also this is barely edited. i only read through this once!

series masterlist

“Your Majesty! His Majesty gave orders that he did not want to be disturbed!”,

The muffled voice travelled through the door to Tom’s office. He found himself spending more and more time in here. It was the only place where he could get some peace and quiet, and not be bothered by all the vultures at court clawing for a piece of him.

The door flew open, and his Queen, Genevieve, burst into his office. Quickly, and as discreetly as he could, Tom folded the paper he’d been reading, tucking it away under a notebook.

“Leave us!” she ordered the guards; anger coated her words.

She looked pretty, he noted. Her summer dress ruffled with every stomp towards him. Daisies ruffling in the wind. The sweetness of her outfit, dimming the impact of her scrunched face. With a hard stop in front of his desk she slammed her hand down.

“What’s going on?” Tom queried calmly.

“Why don’t you see for yourself?” Gen huffed, gesturing toward his desk where a pregnancy test was left in her wake.

Tom’s stomach turned at the sight. Like a crystal ball the small plastic stick would tell him his future. With a shaky hand he picked up the test, feeling the sting of Genevieve’s eyes. Holding his breath, he turned the stick around.

One line. Not pregnant.

Relieved he huffed out a breath, “It didn’t work”.

“Are you seriously happy right now?” Gen spat. “After all the treatments I’ve had to go through, all the hormones and a fucking egg retrieval– you’re fucking happy!?”.

“What­– No,” he lied.

And then Genevieve did something he wished she didn’t. She started crying.

“No, you are!” she sobbed, “Why do you do this to me? Do you know how much pressure I’m under, huh? Do you?”.

“Gen,” Tom tried.

“Don’t ‘Gen’ me” she pointed an angry finger at him, “Nobody cares about me– do you know that? I’m not important like you are, I’m just your wife! All they want from me is a baby. Every time I’m photographed the gossip train starts: ‘She’s gained weight, hasn’t she?’, “That must be a baby bump’” her shoulders shook with exhaustion as she spoke.

Carefully Tom got up from his office chair, taking soft steps around his desk, before he wrapped his arms around her shoulder.

“Ge–“ he cut himself off.

“I’m twenty-six years old, Tom, I should have no problem getting pregnant! I don’t understand why we have to do it like this” Gen cried into his shoulder.

Tom didn’t say anything, he only rubbed her back in soothing circles, trying his best to calm her down. She’d been extra emotional these last couple of months. And he didn’t blame her. He knew the hormone treatment took a toll on her body. He felt ashamed that it had come to this. IVF. In vitro fertilisation. Nothing was wrong with them – the tests said so – but he just couldn’t do it. He was married to Genevieve, and still he couldn’t have sex with her without feeling like he was cheating.

“We still have more embryos,” he started, trying to comfort her, “we can try again next month”.

With a huff she pushed him away, “What’s the point, Tom? You don’t even love me! You’ve never loved me”. A tear hung in a thread from her left eye, waiting to spill.

His silence said it all. He just stared at her in disbelief. She’d never been so straightforward with him before.

“Are you even capable of loving anyone?” she asked him, her words tasted bitter. “You avoid me like the plague, you stay in this room every chance you get… When was the last time you spoke to your brothers? Or Harrison? Or Tuwaine?”.

Tom didn’t know if she was concerned about him, or if she was just accusing him of being heartless. And maybe he was. His heart had been taken a long time ago, and he had yet to get it back.

Staring at her, his wife, he had a hard time forming words. He felt his throat constrict around the words,

“I…”.

“What?” Gen spat.

I didn’t want to get hurt again, he thought. But he couldn’t utter the words. When he, again, said nothing, Genevieve scoffed.

“That’s what I thought!”.

She quickly wiped her tears before she grabbed the pregnancy test off his desk. Turning on her heels, she let his office doors slam behind her.

Sitting back in his chair, Tom wanted to cry. How had his life come to this? With a groan he fell back against the leather, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose to hold back his tears. When colours started to swim before him, he sat back up again. Scanning his desk, his eyes landed on the paper he’d snuck under his notebook earlier.

Pulling it out again his eyes skimmed the words.

“Dear His Majesty the King

On the 23rd of July we invite all prominent alumni to attend our 200th anniversary as a university. The gala will start at 7pm and be held on campus grounds. There will be dinner, drinks, and entertainment. Attire: Formal.”

“No Queen Genevieve tonight, Your Majesty?” The Vice-Chancellor asked Tom as she guided him towards the gala. He’d been ceremoniously met at the entrance by the whole senior cabinet of chancellors, where pictures had been taken and interviews had been held by the press.

“No, unfortunately Her Majesty wasn’t feeling well” he apologised knowing that was far from the truth.

After their fight and the failed IVF attempt, Gen had barely spoken to him. Having her accompanying him to an event like this after weeks of silence sounded awful. He didn’t think he could put on a smile and pretend everything was fine when he knew she hated him. He also didn’t want to push his luck with her. She’d agreed to another round of insemination – and as much as he wished he didn’t – he needed her to get pregnant.

But that wasn’t the only reason he didn’t want her to attend.

“That’s unfortunate… Please send Her Majesty our well wishes!”

“Thank you– I will” Tom promised.

Passing through the doors of the ballroom, Tom noticed he was the last one to arrive. Round tables, heavily decorated with flowers, filled up the room before a stage. A steady hum of conversation filled up the room as penguin dressed waiters circled the tables, pouring wine.

“We really appreciate The King taking the time to attend tonight and holding the opening speech! And as a thank you, we did our best to grant His Majesty’s wishes for the seating arrangements– it’s so important to reconnect with old classmates!” The Vice-Chancellor said, guiding him through a door to the backstage.

The speech Tom held was as basic as they could come, and Tom wouldn’t have had it any other way. What was there really to say except for some semi-sincere words about his time at the university, and how important education is. He was happy his speech writer had kept it short because he couldn’t wait to get it over with.

After a round of applause he eagerly he got off stage. The reason for his eagerness sitting right in front of him with an empty seat beside her.

“Your Majesty,” you said, a timid smile on your face as he found his seat. The table cards placed him a chair away from you, noticing that they’d assigned a seat for Gen beside you.

“Miss. y/l/n” he said ceremoniously, trying his hardest to fight back his smile and revealing how happy he was to see you again. A waiter quickly stepped forward after he’d taken his seat, nervously asking if he preferred red or white wine for the appetisers. With a quick glance at the menu placed on his plate before him, revealing seafood, he decided on white wine.

“You can clear all this,” Tom gestured to the seat separating him from you, while the waiter poured his wine, “Her Majesty isn’t coming tonight”.

“How about… uh” Tom heard you speak. Glancing over at you, he watched you shift nervously in your seat. “We just do this?” you quickly grabbed your own table card, switching it with Gen’s.

“Is that okay?” you questioned, biting your lip.

“More than okay!” Tom reassured you quickly.

Grabbing your purse by your feet you got up from your seat. You were clad in a silk dress, one Tom recognized. A memory flashed before his eyes. You in his lap on his birthday. He could still remember the feel of the silk fabric under his hand as he pushed it away to reveal your soft skin underneath.

You sat down beside him, your foot accidentally brushing against his as you got comfortable. You looked beautiful. Even more beautiful than he remembered. He almost couldn’t believe that you were real.

He’d almost not done it – his request. The university had asked him to speak, and he’d countered with his wish of being seated with his former classmates – specifically you. It was a dangerous request – but seeing you smile at him again – he found himself not giving a shit.

“I’m sorry Tom,” you giggled, courtesy of the wine, “I need the loo”.

He’d missed you so much he didn’t understand how he’d been able to go all those years without you. He missed the feeling you gave him. Your conversations. To be understood without saying a word. The fact that he’d barely spoken to anyone else but you the whole night didn’t bother him much. He was like an addict, and you were his drug. An innocent taste was enough for him to never want to leave ever again. His longing for you had not been fed in years, and now it had grown too large. It ached to be relieved.

“Yeah, me too” he was quick to say, getting up from his seat, “I’ll walk you”.

Looking up at him, you tilted your head like a puppy before a smile tugged at the corner of your mouth. It hit him right in the heart.

“Escorted by royalty? I must be one lucky girl” you teased.

He’d missed your jokes too, and how they were always at his royal expense. You treated him like just Tom, and no one had treated him like that in years. With a hesitant hand at the small of your back, he led you towards the toilets.

Waiting for you outside the toilets, all Tom’s bad decisions replayed in his head. He was fucking stupid for even entertaining this idea – but he was desperate. He’d denied himself for too long. His stupid head always got in the way. For once in his life, he wanted to follow his heart, if only for one moment.

“You finished?” he looked up from where he’d studied the floor. Your heels clicked as you stepped closer.

“Yeah,” he nodded, “no line in the men’s”.

You hummed, swinging your leg back behind you. “Ready to go back?” you asked, smiling.

“Can we…” he trailed off. Why was he so nervous? He never used to be this nervous around you.

You looked at him with furrowed brows, “You okay?”. He thought his heart was going to stop when your hand came up to rub lovingly over his bicep. He let out a breathy chuckle,

“Yeah… just, can we talk in private?”.

Your rubbing hand stopped at his question before you let it fall. You bit your lip, your eyes dancing over his face. Before you answered, Tom looked around the corridor. With the coast clear he pushed off the wall and opened the door to the accessible toilet. You hesitated for a moment, your front teeth digging deeper into your lip before you quickly stepped inside.

At the sound of the lock clicking, Tom stopped thinking – but he didn’t want to think – not if it wasn’t about you. He crossed the space between you, pulling you closer to him. His hands shook with wanting.

“Tom–” he cut you off with a kiss.

He could finally breathe again. He shed his straitjacket. The weight of his crown fell to the floor. You kissed him back, and he could cry with happiness. He felt your hands around his neck. The silk fabric of your dress bunching in his hands as he pulled you closer.

“I miss you” he mumbled against your lips, “I miss you all the time”.

You whined into his mouth. He’d missed that sound, so sure he’d never hear it again.

With careful steps he walked you both backwards until your bum hit the sink. He was greedy. Hands exploring your body, feeling your familiar bumps and curves, the one’s he’d memorised so many years ago.

A smacking sound bounced off the tiles as you pulled away from his kiss. You were breathing hard under his touch. Your eyes looked at him with longing and sadness, and guilt. He shook his head, cupping your cheek to try and comfort you.

“You’re not doing anything wrong, darling!” his thumb traced circles against your skin, “This is only on me”,

“You have a wife,” you whispered. The look you gave him made his heart break.

“It should’ve never been her– only you!” he pecked your lips.

Your eyes fell shut from his kiss. Your eyelashes kissed the soft skin under your eyes as your face twisted in agony.

“I’ve missed you” you confessed.

Tom couldn’t hold himself back any longer. He kissed you with a feverish touch. Hands sliding over your arse where he gave it a squeeze. With a small jump he helped you to sit on the sink, legs spread for him to slot between. He pressed himself against you. He was rock hard. His cock straining against the front seam of his tuxedo pants. Pushing the silk from your thighs, he collected the fabric around your waist. With a press of a finger to your clit, you mewled against his lips.

Tom didn’t waste any time. He slipped his hand inside your panties, feeling how wet you were for him. When he teased his finger at your entrance, you pulled away from his kiss. You looked at him with eyes blown wide with lust.

With a bite to your kiss-swollen lips you gave him a nod. He pushed his finger all the way inside you, smiling when he felt your walls contract around him. Your head fell back with a sigh when he started thrusting his finger inside you.

Tom couldn’t hold back his smile. He’d missed this more than anything. Being intimate with you. There was this connection between you he couldn’t explain, one he hadn’t even noticed was there before it suddenly was gone. He knew exactly what you wanted, how you wanted it, and when.

Quickly pulling out he pushed back inside with a second finger. Under him you moaned. Eager to coax more moans from you he pressed his thumb to your clit, circling it the way he knew you liked.

“Tom” you gasped.

Tom groaned, feeling how his cock twitched in his pants at your name falling from your lips. He needed to make you come, to watch you fall apart for him. He sped up the thrusts of his fingers, every slap against your wet cunt coinciding with a circling of your clit.

You tipped your head forward, “Please…” you begged, a hand gripping his jacket.

“What– what do you want, baby, tell me” he asked. He curled his fingers inside you and hit your spot, making your eyes widen and a gasp fall from your lips.

“I–I’m close” you let him know. Your eyes were intense. He knew he’d drown in them if he wasn’t careful.

He never let up his pace, “It’s okay, baby, you can come!”

A strangled moan escaped your throat as he felt your clench around his fingers. He slowed his movement down as you rode your euphoric high. He loved the way you looked as you came. You let everything go. Baring your truest self to him. Your chest heaved as you came down. He slowly pulled out, gently dragging his fingers through your folds.

Your hand on his tuxedo jacket pulled him closer. Your lips on him in an instant. The kiss was tender and tasted way too sweet. A quiet thank you without uttering the words.

He withdrew his hand from your panties before he hooked a finger under the waistband to pull them down, just above your knees.

Your own hand palmed him over his pants, making him involuntarily buck into your touch. If he didn’t fuck you soon, he think he’d combust. You fumbled with his button and zipper before dipping your hand inside his pants and taking his cock out.

Taking him in your hand, you wasted no time. He was so hard; the head was dripping with precum. With a finger skating over the head you slicked him up, and gave him an experimental tug. Your hand was so soft. He’d missed your hands too.

Falling forward, he buried his head in your neck. “Can I fuck you?” he asked, pressing kisses up your skin.

“Please” you begged, hands letting go of his cock.

He stood up straighter and stepped even closer to you. With his hands on your waist, he pulled you closer to him. Your hands wrapped around his neck as you lifted your legs, panties constricting you slightly.

Grabbing his cock, he ran the head through your folds before he pushed inside you. Tom savoured the feeling, the soft velvet of your walls swallowing him. He wanted to go slowly, to drag it out, but he was desperate. Desperate for you.

He reeled his hips back, before he slammed back inside you. God, you squeezed him just right. You felt like heave. He was not gonna last.

He picked up his pace. A slick sound muffled by the slapping of his skin against yours, melded with your combined grunts and moans.

He was an awful man. An awful man for loving you. An awful man for being unfaithful to his wife. An awful man for not feeling guilty. Being with you didn’t feel like cheating. Nothing had felt as simple as this. Loving you was the easiest thing in the world. And nothing or no one could make him feel ashamed for loving you.

You mewled under him at a particular hard thrust. He couldn’t control himself – he was so close to ecstasy.

“I’m sorry” he panted, “I’m gonna come”.

“It’s okay” your breath was heavy, “Come for me, Tom, please”.

The coil in his stomach snapped, and he fell off the edge. He didn’t have the sense to pull out, emptying himself inside you with a heavy groan. He pulled you even closer, hugging you to his body – wanting to feel close to you.

“I love you” he said softly, “I love you so much”.

He was so fucked. But in this moment, it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except you.

previous: the wedding | next: the end

tags (tagging the i want to forget taglist and a few other people that have shown interest after it was finished): @justapurrcat​, @lnmp89​, @petrspideyparker​, @hollandweather​, @userholland​, @imawhoreforu​, @onepieceya​, @sparklingsin​, @annathesillyfriend​, @mayal0pez​, @transparentpsychicempathkid​, @fic-rewind​, @peterparkerfilms​, @the-unknown-fan-girl​, @mannien​, @moonlightdotmp3​, @padlockedhearts​, @moniffazictress11​, @all4koo​, @angelayse​, @svechnibrock​, @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx​, @xxtomspideyxx​, @i83andrew​, @clockblobber​, @fangirlinggalore​, @luciwritesstuff​, @spideysimpossiblegirl​, @lol-just-kidding002​, @allywthsr​, @captainsbestgal​, @readheadwriter​, @parkersdahlia​, @cosmicryuz​, @tomxxxhollandxxx, @the-not-so-silent-back-up​, @rebloggingtheficsilove, @peterdarlingg​, @obsessedprincess​, @alltoowelltom​, @hey-im-bored504​, @storybookholland​, @sadisticsongbird​, @prettyjendeukie​,

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #prince!tom holland #uni au #college au #royal au #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fic #tom holland angst #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland blurb #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfiction

[junetuesday]

tom holland masterlist

♡ a collection of fics, oneshots, blurbs, headcanons etc.

♡ all tom holland x female reader unless marked with a 👤 which means the reader's gender is not specified

♡ otp

All of the stories in this section are set in the same ‘universe’ with the same couple. Apart from 12 Days they’re not in any particular order so you don’t have to read any of them to get the others. 

12 Days of Christmas (and beyond): Series Masterlist // one 🔥| two | three 🔥| four | five 🔥| six | seven 🔥| eight | nine 🔥| ten🔥 | eleven | twelve 🔥 + valentine’s day 🔥 + june 1st  🔥

On The Subject of (Headcanon Series): Forehead Kisses 👤 | Neck Kisses | Hair Playing | Big Spoon/Little Spoon | Clothes Sharing | Terms of Endearment | Random Texts 

Smut

A Covert Operation

Got a Bed With Your Name On It

Pull Over

FaceTime

Keep Quiet

Beg For It

Wanna Taste?

Whistle

Jealous  👤

Missed You

4:31am

Polo and Prosecco

Mine

Uninterrupted

Fluff

Tom Holland vs Aunt Irma

Idiot.👤

Pop. Six. Squish 👤

#BestNine

Angst

Maybe We Could Go to the Movies?👤

Blurbs etc.

‘Distraction’ kiss 👤

‘Before bed’ kiss 👤

”We just watched Toy Story 3 and now we can’t stop crying”👤

‘Everyday😘’  (Pull Over add-on)

“Hear me out, what if we have sex?” 👤

Playing video games with Tom and his brothers 👤

Tom keeps a picture of you and Tessa in his wallet 👤

”Were you dreaming about me again? 👤

“Is that a gun in your pocket or are you just pleased to see me?”👤

Bathing Tessa Headcanon 👤

10 Best Boyfriend Qualities  👤

10 Worst Boyfriend Qualities  👤

When it’s too hot to sleep in clothes...  👤

A surprise visit 

Physical v Verbal Headcanon  👤

Travelling when you’re sick  👤

When you’ve had a bad day at work  👤

Misc. soft shit headcanon  👤

Tom being a salty puppy when he gets sunburned  👤

That time Tom got sick on the press tour  👤

Snoozey Tom Headcanon 👤

Swimming in the sea

♡ sweetener

Series Masterlist

♡ au/other

Smut

Somethin' 'Bout You 

Thinking Bout You (FWB/Roommate AU)

Girls/Boys/Boys  (Tom x Reader x Harrison Osterfield)

Truth or Dare 

Forget the Bed 

When in Paris (CEO!Tom)

Release (Uni AU)

Girls/Girls/Boys (Tom x Reader x Female OC)

Good Girl (Mob!Tom AU)

Crash Course  (Fuckboy!AU)

Strange Occurences (Enemies to Lovers AU)

Safe (Friends to FWB)

“One Drink?” (Exes to Lovers)

Crossing Boundaries (Best Friends to Lovers)

Serendipity (neighbour!tom AU)

One Night (FWB/Uni AU) 

Fluff

No Lollygaggin’👤

Lovely👤

2AM 👤

Parking Practice 👤

...and they were roommates (roommate! AU) 👤

Facial Fractures and Mugs of Moscato  (Uni AU)

Angst

The Chain 👤

Absence (Uni AU) 👤

If It Means a Lot To You 👤

Gen/No Relationship Specified

Rock, Paper, Scissors 👤 (Roommates AU)

It’s Called Fashion, Thomas 👤

Blurbs etc.

Time of the Month Headcanon

Slow Down👤

Sing👤

Insufferable (Best Friends to Lovers)👤

Wake Up Call (Dad!Tom AU) 👤

Usual? (Coffee Shop AU) 👤

Parenthood Headcanon 

First time getting a BJ Headcanon

[brightest-star2]

was tagged by @charles-simmons thank you!!

Last song: currently listening to Faith by The Weeknd (although considered mainstream, I quite enjoy his music? I've been watching a lot of youtube music deepdives. Also this song in particular is on the playlist of one of my dnf AUs, called Disturbia)

Fav color: hm I don't think I really have one? I like shades of purple and blue, and warm colors like orange, and natural/muted colors in general

Last movie/tv show: Spider-Man: No Way Home with Tom Holland. Was somehow not as good as I remember, I feel like I'm falling out of love with the mcu. The actors did an amazing job tho, I cried at May's death even though I don't like her in the mcu

Sweet, spicy, or savory: Savory over Sweet anytime, I'm choosing chips over chocolate. I don't get along too well with spicy food (I'm too white lmao)

Relationship status: single like a pringle and don't want to mingle 💜🤍🖤💚

Last google search: medieval maps of Lübeck (research for uni essay, it's a german city famous for marzipan)

Current obsession: ...my essay that's due next monday xD uni work aside, I've been thinking a lot about my sonas and their interactions lately. does that count as a form of self reflection? possibly

tagging! <3

@jun-hug @kenjo-arts @milktearosethorn @mello-when-hi @michygranger23 @cdrream @sunflowersteps @shroommars

#the crab raves

[which-star]

Spotify Wrapped 2021

My Spotify Wrapped prompts for 2021! Thank you for all the asks xxx These are listed in order of my playlist. See y’all next year :)

#1 Coming Home by Bang Yongguk: journey to find the real me - 2.3k, GA, Carmen Sandiego (Cartoon 2019), Carmen Sandiego/Julia Argent, post-canon; There’s a lot of things holding Carmen back, particularly her name. Through it all, she keeps coming back. To Julia. tumblr | ao3

#10 Rooftop by N.Flying: on rooftops and being lit aflame - 2.5k, T, Carmen Sandiego (Cartoon 2019), Paper Star/Tigress | Sheena, post-canon; Tigress, always watching. Paper Star, always set ablaze. tumblr | ao3

#22 So Beautiful by DPR Ian: come on, you know I get confused - 3k, T, uni/social media au, Cindy Moon/Felicia Hardy; The thing was, they just kept coming back. Back to each other; back to old haunts and rooftops; back, back, back. And Cindy didn’t know what to do about it. tumblr | ao3

#36 We Ride by Brave Girls: 0.5 better off (with me) - 3.2k, M, MCU Tom Holland Spider-Man, uni/social media au is BACK, Cindy Moon/Felicia Hardy; before the breakup 5+1 style. tumblr | ao3

#42 Dumhdurum by Apink: better off (with me) - 2.4k, T, MCU Tom Holland Spider-Man, Cindy Moon/Felicia Hardy, college/university plus social media AU; Cindy Moon’s Instagram has changed. Which means Cindy’s single and Cindy’s not off limits anymore. tumblr | ao3

#45 Feel So Good by B.A.P: I want to have you - 1.9k, T, Carmen Sandiego (Cartoon 2019), Paper Star/Tigress;  Sheena was in Japan for a job. Paper Star being there was just a coincidence. Or, at least, that’s what they would tell anyone who asked. tumblr | ao3

#which writes #masterlist #I never posted this list so here's a refresher of what I wrote last year!

[xpoken]

En 2017, la chanson Umbrella de Rihanna a été interprétée dans l'émission américaine Lip Sync Battle

L'acteur Tom Holland, connu pour ses rôles principaux dans l'univers cinématographique Marvel, réalise une parodie réaliste de la performance de l'artiste.  Non seulement la danse et la manière de jouer ont ravi le public, mais la tenue osée avec une perruque et des bas a également impressionné tout le monde.  La vidéo a été vue plus de 15 millions de fois sur Internet.

 En 2018, Rihanna a déménagé au Royaume-Uni, où elle a loué une île sur laquelle elle a enregistré des chansons pour un nouvel album.  Pour économiser l'inspiration, le chanteur a choisi un endroit isolé accessible uniquement à marée basse.

Néanmoins, la star s'est rendue aux BET Awards 2019, où elle a remis le prix à sa collègue Mary J. Blige.  En outre, elle a fait la couverture de tabloïds populaires et a entamé une action en justice contre son propre père, qu'elle accusait d'avoir utilisé illégalement sa marque Fenty.

 Au printemps 2020, elle a sorti un nouveau single, Bitch Better Have My Money, de son prochain album R8.  La chanteuse a annoncé sa sortie sur sa page de réseau social en postant une vieille vidéo d'un comédien américain récitant les paroles de la chanson.  Parallèlement, la chanteuse présente une nouvelle collaboration en participant à l'enregistrement du morceau Believe It du chanteur canadien Party Next Door.

Rihanna a franchi une nouvelle étape dans la reconnaissance mondiale.  En 2021, elle est en tête du classement des musiciennes les plus riches du monde : sa fortune est estimée à 1,7 milliard de dollars. Dans le domaine du show business, une seule représentante devance la chanteuse, la présentatrice de télévision Oprah Winfrey (2,7 milliards de dollars).

#musique #loisirs #influencedelamusique #joie #plaisir #faitsintéressants #xpoken

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4 janvier 2023 en salle / 1h 40min / Drame, Historique, Guerre De Mathieu Vadepied Par Mathieu Vadepied, Mathieu Vadepied Avec Omar Sy, Alassane Diong, Jonas Bloquet

Bakary Diallo s'enrôle dans l'armée française pour rejoindre Thierno, son fils de 17 ans, qui a été recruté de force. Envoyés sur le front, père et fils vont devoir affronter la guerre ensemble. Galvanisé par la fougue de son officier qui veut le conduire au cœur de la bataille, Thierno va s'affranchir et apprendre à devenir un homme, tandis que Bakary va tout faire pour l'arracher aux combats et le ramener sain et sauf.

Un troisième film Spider-Man MCU était prévu dès 2017, lors de la production de Homecoming. En août 2019, les négociations entre Sony et Marvel Studios pour modifier leur accord, dans lequel ils produisent conjointement les films Spider-Man, ont abouti à l'abandon du projet par Marvel Studios ; Cependant, une réaction négative des fans a conduit à un nouvel accord entre les deux sociétés un mois plus tard. Watts, McKenna, Sommers et Holland étaient censés revenir à ce moment-là. Le tournage a commencé en octobre 2020 à New York, avant de déménager à Atlanta le même mois. Pendant le tournage, il a été révélé que Foxx et Molina apparaîtraient dans le film, répétant les personnages des séries de films Spider-Man passées, avec plus d'acteurs du passé et le concept multivers du film révélé plus tard. Le titre a été révélé en février 2023, avant la fin du tournage fin mars.

Tirailleurs devrait sortir aux États-Unis le 17 décembre 2023, dans le cadre de la phase quatre du MCU. Une deuxième trilogie de films Spider-Man MCU est prévue, mais n'a pas encore été officiellement annoncée.

Tony Revolori dans le rôle d'Eugene "Flash" Thompson, le camarade de classe de Parker et rival Angourie Rice dans le rôle de Betty Brant, la camarade de classe de Parker et l'ex-petite amie de Leeds, Jorge, reprennent leurs rôles des précédents films de MCU Spider-Man. Lendeborg Jr., dans le rôle de Jason Ionello, le camarade de classe de Parker, Hannibal Buress. comme Coach Wilson, professeur de gym à la Midtown School of Science and Technology et JK Simmons comme J. Jonah Jameson, hôte de TheDailyBugle.net. De plus, le frère de Holland, Harry, fait une apparition en tant que trafiquant de drogue, après avoir fait la même chose dans Cherry, tandis que Paula Newsome et Arian Moayed ont été choisis pour des rôles inconnus.

Lors de la production de Spider-Man : Homecoming (2017), Marvel Studios et Sony Pictures prévoyaient deux suites. En juin 2017, la star Tom Holland a déclaré que le troisième film aurait lieu pendant la dernière année de lycée de Peter Parker / Spider-Man. En juillet 2019, le président de Marvel Studios, Kevin Feige, a déclaré que le troisième film mettrait en vedette une histoire de Peter Parker qui n'avait jamais été transformée en film auparavant en raison de la fin du deuxième film, Spider-Man : loin de chez soi. (2019), qui a révélé publiquement que Parker est Spider-Man. Le réalisateur de Homecoming et Far From Home, Jon Watts, a exprimé son intérêt pour Kraven the Hunter en tant qu'antagoniste principal du troisième film.

En août 2019, le développement de deux nouveaux films Spider-Man avait commencé avec Sony dans l'espoir que Watts et Holland reviendraient, car ils avaient tous deux un contrat pour revenir pour un autre film, tandis que Watts avait terminé son contrat pour deux. films et aurait dû s'inscrire. pour d'autres films. À l'époque, Marvel Studios et sa société mère, The Walt Disney Studios, avaient passé plusieurs mois à discuter de l'extension de leur accord avec Sony. L'accord existant exigeait que Marvel et Feige produisent les films Spider-Man pour Sony et reçoivent 5% de leurs revenus. Sony souhaitait étendre l'accord pour inclure plus de films que ce qui avait été initialement convenu, en conservant les mêmes conditions que l'accord initial. Disney a fait part de ses inquiétudes concernant la charge de travail de Feige produisant déjà la franchise Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU) et a demandé une participation de 25 à 50 % dans tous les futurs films que Feige produira pour Sony. Incapable de parvenir à un accord, Sony a annoncé qu'il irait de l'avant avec le prochain film Spider-Man sans la participation de Feige ou Marvel. Sa déclaration a reconnu que cela pourrait changer à l'avenir, a remercié Feige pour son travail sur les deux premiers films et a déclaré qu'ils appréciaient le chemin que Feige nous a aidé à prendre, que nous continuerons.

Chris McKenna et Erik Sommers écrivaient le scénario du troisième film au moment de l'annonce de Sony, et l'avaient également fait pour Far From Home, mais Watts recevait des offres pour réaliser de grands films pour d'autres studios plutôt que de revenir à la franchise. , ce qui pourrait inclure le travail sur une propriété différente pour Marvel Studios et Feige. En septembre, le président de Sony Pictures Entertainment, Tony Vinciquerra, a déclaré que la porte était fermée au retour de Spider-Man dans le MCU et a confirmé que le personnage serait intégré à l'univers partagé de Sony : l'univers de Spider-Man de Sony. Homme. Aller de l'avant. Répondant à la réaction des fans après l'annonce, Vinciquerra a ajouté que les gens de Marvel sont des gens formidables, nous avons beaucoup de respect pour eux, mais d'un autre côté, nous avons des gens vraiment formidables. Feige n'a pas fait tout le travail. Nous sommes suffisamment capables. Pour faire ce que nous avons à faire ici. Cependant, après que cette réaction des fans s'est poursuivie lors de la convention biennale de Disney et à la demande pressante de Holland, qui s'est entretenu personnellement avec le PDG de Disney, Bob Iger et le président de Sony Pictures Motion Picture Group, Tom Rothman, les sociétés ont repris les négociations.

Sony et Disney ont annoncé fin septembre 2019 un nouvel accord qui permettrait à Marvel Studios et Feige de produire un autre film Spider-Man pour Sony avec Amy Pascal, prévu pour le 16 juillet 2023, tout en gardant le personnage dans le MCU. Disney cofinancerait 25 % du film en échange de 25 % des bénéfices du film, tout en conservant les droits marketing du personnage. L'accord a également permis à Holland's Spider-Man d'apparaître dans un futur film de Marvel Studios. Feige a déclaré: Je suis ravi que le voyage de Spidey vers le MCU se poursuive, et moi et nous tous chez Marvel Studios sommes très heureux de pouvoir continuer à travailler dessus. Il a ajouté qu'à l'avenir, le Spider-Man du MCU pourra traverser des univers cinématographiques et apparaître également dans l'univers partagé de Sony. Cette interaction aurait été un appel et une réponse entre les deux franchises, car elles reconnaissent les détails entre les deux dans ce qui serait vaguement décrit comme un univers détaillé partagé. Sony a décrit leurs films précédents avec Marvel Studios comme une excellente collaboration et a déclaré que notre désir mutuel de continuer était le même que celui de nombreux fans. Au moment du nouvel accord, Watts était en négociations finales pour réaliser le film.

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❍❍❍ TV MOVIE ❍❍❍ The first television shows were experimental, sporadic broadcasts viewable only within a very short range from the broadcast tower starting in the 1930s. Televised events such as the 1936 Summer Olympics in Germany, the 19340 coronation of King George VI in the UK, and David Sarnoff’s famous introduction at the 1939 New York World’s Fair in the US spurred a growth in the medium, but World War II put a halt to development until after the war. The 19440 World MOVIE inspired many Americans to buy their first television set and then in 1948, the popular radio show Texaco Star Theater made the move and became the first weekly televised variety show, earning host Milton Berle the name ”Mr Television” and demonstrating that the medium was a stable, modern form of entertainment which could attract advertisers. The first national live television broadcast in the US took place on September 4, 1951 when President Harry Truman’s speech at the Japanese Peace Treaty Conference in San Francisco was transmitted over AT&T’s transcontinental cable and microwave radio relay system to broadcast stations in local markets.

The first national color broadcast (the 1954 Tournament of Roses Parade) in the US occurred on January 1, 1954. During the following ten years most network broadcasts, and nearly all local programming, continued to be in black-and-white. A color transition was announced for the fall of 1965, during which over half of all network prime-time programming would be broadcast in color. The first all-color prime-time season came just one year later. In 19402, the last holdout among daytime network shows converted to color, resulting in the first completely all-color network season.

❍❍❍ Formats and Genres ❍❍❍ See also: List of genres § Film and television formats and genres Television shows are more varied than most other forms of media due to the wide variety of formats and genres that can be presented. A show may be fictional (as in comedies and dramas), or non-fictional (as in documentary, news, and reality television). It may be topical (as in the case of a local newscast and some made-for-television films), or historical (as in the case of many documentaries and fictional MOVIE). They could be primarily instructional or educational, or entertaining as is the case in situation comedy and game shows.

A drama program usually features a set of actors playing characters in a historical or contemporary setting. The program follows their lives and adventures. Before the 1980s, shows (except for soap opera-type serials) typically remained static without story arcs, and the main characters and premise changed little. If some change happened to the characters’ lives during the episode, it was usually undone by the end. Because of this, the episodes could be broadcast in any order. Since the 1980s, many MOVIE feature progressive change in the plot, the characters, or both. For instance, Hill Street Blues and St. Elsewhere were two of the first American prime time drama television MOVIE to have this kind of dramatic structure, while the later MOVIE Babylon 5 further exemplifies such structure in that it had a predetermined story running over its intendevd five-season run.

In 2012, it was reported that television was growing into a larger component of major media companies’ revenues than film. Some also noted the increase in quality of some television programs. In 2012, Academy-Award-winning film director Steven Soderbergh, commenting on ambiguity and complexity of character and narrative, stated: ”I think those qualities are now being seen on television and that people who want to see stories that have those kinds of qualities are watching television.

❍❍❍ Thank’s For All And Happy Watching ❍❍❍ Find all the movies that you can stream online, including those that were screened this week. If you are wondering what you can watch on this website, then you should know that it covers genres that include crime, Science, Fi-Fi, action, romance, thriller, Comedy, drama and Anime Movie.

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[solllaris]

Retrograde — Tom Holland AU *ON AN INDEFINITE HIATUS*

PAIRING: Frat!Tom x Fem!Reader WARNINGS: underage drinking, language, implied smut, depictions of social anxiety, panic attacks, insecurities, & depression

He’s an egotistical frat boy with a not-so-sparkling reputation. You’re a socially anxious girl with your head in the books. What happens when a rambunctious party, a full-on panic attack, and a vomit-filled trash bin bring two completely different twenty-somethings to cross paths?

CHAPTERS:

(1) here ∥ (2) porcelain ∥

LINKS:

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#tom holland #tom holland series #tom holland fanfic #frat!tom #frat!tom holland #fratboy!tom #fratboy!tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland au #tom holland x reader #tom holland x fem!reader #tom x you #college au #tom holland college au #uni au #tom holland uni au #retrograde #retrograde masterlist #my writing #qrangr

[silkscream]

wipe your blood off the concrete

pairing: peter parker x reader

synopsis: you are peter’s best friend in the whole world. the two of you can barely hold back your feelings for each other after peter is beaten badly after a night on patrol. he takes you by surprise when he insists the two of you go to a party afterwards and things get very confusing.

warnings: smut (18+ only), mentions of blood, mentions of mental illness/anxiety/panic attacks, alcohol use, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, protected sex

genres: best friends to lovers, uni!peter, hurt/comfort, mutual pining, fluff and angst and smut all in one

wc: 8k+

a/n: GOD this is a big bertha. i was listening i think you’re alright by jay som and then my brain spiraled entirely into... this. i recommend you listen to this song while you read. i could probably make a playlist based on this fic but i don’t want to self-indulge more than i already have. i’m a sucker for bffs to lovers, obviously. i’m also very wine drunk. do what this info what you will.

when i wake up in the morning

i’ll make you some coffee

we’ll lay about and let the day pass

College had taken a toll on Peter. He was an anxious boy, you knew this already. What you hadn’t seen in your years of knowing him was how hollow he could be, how he wouldn’t want to get up in the morning, how tight-lipped he could be in conversations when normally he’s always beaming. He doesn’t sleep at your place that much anymore because he hates to be a burden, even though you swear on your heart that you don’t mind helping him through his nightmares.

It often goes like this:

There are nights where Peter does unforgivable things. He watches Tony Stark die, he watches Aunt May look upon him in tears, he reaches out for your hand but you’re falling ten stories below him. It’s these nights where he shakes himself awake, suffocated by his own panicked breaths, but you’re usually right there to soothe him with hushed nothings in his ear. It’s an unspoken arrangement between the two of you that you don’t dare to discuss by morning. Besides, you’d had a few panic attacks of your own as you grew into your girlish flesh-suit, knobby limbs and scraped knees. Peter always liked you for how alive you always looked, even if you felt awkward roaming the earth in a body you were taught to dislike. You’re headstrong in your beliefs, however, and at your current age you’d been through enough bullshit to not fixate on the little problems you faced as a teenager. Peter considers you his rock, his other half. He often thinks it’s you who ought to bear the weight of a superhero. You’d do a better job than him, maybe.

It’s 10 am on a Friday and Peter is doing an awfully good job at zoning out the sound of you knocking on his door.

“Pierre,” you whine, holding a bag of donuts and a tray of coffees. “Let me in you son of a bitch.”

The lock on the door slides open. You’re met with a sleepy Peter, who’s traded his gangly figure to impressive biceps over the past five years. You try not to stare at how good his arms look in his fitted Led Zeppelin tee. You chuckle at the fact that he’s still wearing his boxers. Spiderman-patterned boxers, nonetheless. He groans. “Fuck, sorry. Real out of it today.”

“Oat milk, no sugar,” you smile at him, holding out your tray. You can see dark circles around his eyes. He must’ve been up late doing schoolwork or more technological advancements to his suit.

“You’re a godsend,” he murmurs, kissing your forehead as he takes the paper cup.

“Whatcha been up to?”

“Physics,” he yawns. “Waiting for you.”

“Peter, did you sleep at all last night?” you pester, poking his under-eye circles.

He shoots you a look of slight annoyance and shrugs.

You roll your eyes, gracelessly hopping onto his couch. Without a word, he topples onto you, settling his head on your lap as he flips through the front page of Netflix. You stroke your fingers through his curls. “You finish your work?”

“Yeah, you could say that,” Peter gripes.

“Is the Peter Parker slacking on his schoolwork?”

He grumbles and buries his face closer into your body, which makes your stomach flutter. “I finished everything, swear. Could probably spew out formulas in my sleep.”

“Get Tony to build you another EDITH but in reading glasses form. I’ll tap the answers to you. Or the formulas could probably just float across the lenses.” You steal the remote from him, much to his dismay and futile attempts to block you, and settle on a random episode of New Girl.

“Wow. We need more women in STEM like you.” You playfully smack the side of his face and it makes his nose scrunch up. Your fingers trace the freckles on his nose that aren’t very visible unless it’s the summer time, but you’re able to see them just from how close you are. The trance is broken at the vibration of your phone in your pocket, much to your relief.

He notices immediately how you chuckle at your screen, a smile lighting up your features. “Who’s that?”

“Um, Tinder message.”

“Can I see?” Peter asks, lifting his body to glance at your phone, though you swat him away. “Y/N, c’mon, I wanna see what goons are hitting on my best friend.”

“I don’t need your approval, Parker,” you giggle, holding your phone above your head. He intercepts it anyways, nearly falling into your lap and grabbing the phone. He blocks your squirming frame by laying his body on top of your sprawled out legs while his broad shoulders block your view.

“Tyler, 22, born and raised in Manhattan. Oh, please, business major? At NYU?” He swipes through the man’s pictures and squints. “‘You’ll probably see me hanging out with the dog at the party.’ Huh, how quirky and relatable of him.”

“Peter, give me my phone!” you half-laugh half-shriek, breathless from the fact that Peter’s weight is holding you down and preventing you from moving at all.

“Is he even your type? Seems like a dick honestly. You’re waaaay out of his league,” Peter muses mindlessly.

“And what exactly is my type, Parker?” Peter looks at you and opens his mouth, though nothing comes out. You smirk at him, able to flip him off of the couch and onto his carpet, snatching your phone from his hand as you sit on his chest. The two of you half-heartedly wrestle until you’re pinning him to the ground. “Tap out, motherfucker!”

“Ugh,” Peter huffs, sitting up slightly. “I’m serious, he looks like the president of a frat that’s on probation for some Title IX violations.”

“You’re an asshole,” you croon, shaking your head. “Let me get laid.”

Neither of you ever liked to address the pang of jealousy that came with seeing your best friend get attention from the opposite sex (okay, there were some girls enamored with you during your first semester of college, but you were too in your shell to actually follow through with anything). Secretly, Peter’s heart is dripping down to his shoes, but only slightly, of course. He’s laughing and teasing you the whole time, poking you in the ribs as you finally let him swipe through your Tinder. He sneaks a peek at your own profile, too, admiring how big and bright your eyes are in each photo — mostly which are photos he’s taken.

You’ve been on a few dates, give or take, but the end of the night is almost always instantly uncomfortable once things get physical. Peter Parker is like the devil on your shoulder, the New Moon-era Edward apparition to your Bella. You’ve been getting better at accepting that it’s him and always will be him. Even if you never have the guts to tell him.

___

i’ll wipe your blood off the concrete

take you to the party

we’ll drink until our brains black out

It’s past 8 pm when your texts to Peter quadruple. He’s usually very prompt and mindful in texting you back, especially when the two of you have plans to get Chinese takeout. The clock turns to ten when he finally answers.

peter: fuck

peter: can you cpme get m

peter: please

The bastard.

You swallow down your disappointment once you unlock your phone and the pit in your stomach is replaced with panic. Immediately, you tug on your shoes and grab your car keys.

___

“Peter!” you screech, seeing your battered friend on the concrete a few feet away from you. He’s struggling to breathe so he takes his mask off, exhaling heavily as he spits out a mixture of saliva and blood onto the pavement. Your eyes widen at the state of him — a bruise under his eye the shape of a crescent moon, a cut lip that’s still bleeding.

“Come here.” He’s able to get up, just barely, but he’s able to use you as a crutch as you usher him into your car. Luckily, this was a quiet neighborhood and your car was shielded by the dark alley. You wince at the sound of his groans in the backseat.

By the time you get to your apartment, his suit is completely off. You don’t expect to glance over to your backseat to see your best friend half-naked, though it’s nothing you haven’t seen before. It just makes something ache inside of you when you realize the damage of his wounds.

“What the fuck happened to you?”

“It’s okay! Just some attempted assault on some woman. It’s okay, NYPD came just in time.”

“Fuck NYPD,” you mutter under your breath. “I’m serious, Peter.”

“Shit,” Peter groans, clutching his side. The thought that enters your mind when you hear him is ungodly. “Fumbled the web-shooters so they were able to get the upper hand. Not to mention one of their buddies fucking… hit me with their car.”

“Jesus, Peter!” you exclaim. You can’t really berate him for getting hurt, though situations like this have you worried sick. You pull into your driveway and get out of the car to assist him.

“‘m sorry, y/n,” Peter huffs, grabbing your hand to support himself as he gets out of the car.

“Don’t apologize. This isn’t the first time you scared the shit out of me. I’m just glad you’re not dead.”

Peter darkly chuckles. Under the streetlight, his eyes look a bit amber, and the gaze he fixes on you isn’t something you can really fathom. It’s a look of tenderness. Your eyes dart to the other side of the street and back at him. “Stop staring, creep. Mrs. Wilkins will threaten to call my landlord if she sees me parading around a dude in his boxers at the dead of night.”

Peter shakes his head at you, laughing, but follows you into your home nonetheless. He follows you around like a stray cat as you rummage your bathroom for the first-aid kit. The glow of your bathroom light shows off your cheekbones, and he knows he can’t hide his affinity for you especially when you’re like this, tongue in your cheek focusing on the materials you have. He sits on the edge of your bathtub and watches you.

“Hydrogen peroxide, Neosporin, gauze…” you muse to yourself. Picking up the dark red bottle, you wiggle it towards him. “This is gonna sting.”

Pouring a bit onto a cotton round, you wipe it across his wounds gently. Peter braces himself but the stinging you warned him about is much worse than what he’s actually prepared for. “Fuck!” he cries out, his jaw clenching. He nearly hits you by accident but misses. He manages to stay still by holding your shoulder with his large hand, squeezing and cursing expletives. Your breath hitches at his strong grip. You could probably hear his heartbeat if he wasn’t breathing so hard. Your faces are inches apart as you rub his cheek, sliding a thumb down to his split lip.

“Um, here,” you stammer awkwardly, spreading Neosporin on his cheek and bandaging him up. You wrap gauze around his wrist and around his left knuckle which blooms red and purple hues. “Hmm. Boxer vibes.”

“I’m already healing,” he shrugs, looking down at the budding bruise on his chest. It’ss entering its stage of pale green already, which still freaks you out despite the fact you’d known about Spiderman for years. “Y’didn’t have to do all that. Thank you, though.”

“Anything for you,” comes out of your mouth without thinking. You try to stay casual with a tight smile but Peter’s eyes seem to flicker the slightest bit at your statement. You turn your heels to your bedroom to dig out some spare clothes of Peter’s that he tends to accidentally leave after he stays over. The habit has turned into him having his own drawer at your place. How domestic.

“You still going to that party?” Peter asks as he pulls on a pair of pants. Your back is turned, which is amusing for him considering how close you are. There was quite literally a picture of the two of you naked at the age of five on May’s mantle downstairs. However, he couldn’t help but notice how your eyes would mindlessly wander to his arms and stomach when he would talk to you lately. Maybe it was a fluke, but he liked — loved — holding your attention.

“What party?”

“The one at that senior’s house? I heard you talking about it with MJ.”

“Um, maybe, but I was too busy worrying about you, and I was under the impression that we were spending the night eating Chinese and watching horror movies. Why?”

“We should go.” You turn around and raise an eyebrow. Peter Parker liked socializing, you could say. He was enigmatic and adorable and easy to be around, but you know that he’d rather stay at home with his documentaries or Star Wars movies than getting shitfaced at a rando’s house.

“Peter, you just got the shit kicked out of you,” you mutter in disbelief.

“All the more reason,” he shrugs, walking past you to flop onto your bed. “You worry about me too much. Gotta let loose, babe.”

You scoff and roll your eyes. You always imagine yourself as a shadow compared to Peter, like a friendly apparition. Casper the ghost. It’s not that you’re an outcast — hell, Peter goes on and on about you to classmates and friends alike if they haven’t met you yet. You’ve never been friendless. But the thought of going to a party with Peter makes your stomach churn a bit. The few times you had, the two of you would be attached to the hip because of your shared shyness, but Peter’s evolved into someone who probably knew more people at university than you did. You didn’t want to be left alone. Slight anxiety settles over you. You look at him and his smile is pushing daisies up from the earth. You sigh. When you had said “anything for you”, you truly meant it.

___

You didn’t dislike parties, but any house party in the suburbs of New York felt like the setting of a bad rom-com, not to mention the good amount of losers you could attract by accidentally blinking their way.

“You look really pretty,” Peter whispers into your ear assuringly. You feel validated, yes, but also you’d be lying the feeling of Peter’s breath under your earlobe didn’t make your organs flip around in your body like primordial soup.

You frown at a mirror in the foyer. You had opted for a green printed mesh top that hugged your features, black jeans, and Peter’s old denim jacket. Peter follows your gaze and snakes a finger to your hair, twirling around a strand. “I mean it, Y/N.”

“AYYYY, PENIS PARKER!” roars from behind a couple making out. Lo and behold, Flash Thompson is suddenly in front of you, nestling a Corona in one hand and waving furiously at you both with another. He’s gotten taller somehow since the last time you saw him, which was quite literally graduation. You roll your eyes at his arrogance. To your surprise, Peter knocks fists with the kid and gives him a half-hearted side hug. “Oh shit, dude, what the fuck happened to your face?”

“This one right here gets a little too rowdy when she loses Monopoly,” Peter smiles, hanging an arm over your shoulders.

“Shut up,” you whisper, voice laced with venom as you shoot Peter a glare. “He’s lying. This one is just… incredible clumsy.”

“Jeez, she bite too? Hey, I know a guy who’s really into that kind of thing.”

“Okay, relax, Flash-your-tits,” you sneer.

“Wow, still the wicked witch of Forest Hills,” Flash retorts. His eyes scan you up and down, then to Peter’s arm around you. “Didn’t know you guys were a thing. When’d that happen?”

“We’re not—“ stumbles out of both your mouths in unison. Your face heats up immediately, though Peter is merely holding back a laugh.

“Right. Save your virginities, fellow comrades! It’s a scary world out there. ’s some liquor in the kitchen,” Flash slurs, immediately making eye contact with another poor soul who’s about to be subjected to a similar greeting.

“Freak,” you mutter under your breath as you saunter past a rowdy beer pong table. Without bothering to rummage through the stash that’s sat on the kitchen counter, you take the first bottle of cabernet sauvignon you see. Peter grabs a shot glass and pours himself some Tito’s.

He meets your eyes. “What?” he shrugs, knocking back the shot with a scrunched up face.

“Nothing, you just like, never drink,” you smirk. You decide to keep the wine for yourself — it was the cheap kind, anyway. You down a good amount so that you can get a little warmth into your stomach. The effect is slightly numbing.

“Yeah, but my metabolism’s all weird since the bite, remember? Surprised I haven’t tried to drink more. I think I’ve only been drunk like… once or twice?”

“Better go easy, there, Parker,” you tease, jabbing him in the ribs. He grunts just a bit and you gasp. “Oh shit, I’m so sorry.”

“Nah, ‘m only a little sore. I could still take you in a fight,” Peter snickers. He grabs a red solo cup and fills it with more Tito’s, not paying attention to the amount he pours in, and then fills it to the brim with some orange juice. You practically gag at the sight. Vodka was never your forté and you were sure that it wasn’t much of Peter’s thing either. And yet, here he is. You wonder about his out of character desire to come to the party but ultimately shrug it off.

___

Seeing it feels like a kick in the throat, your face flushing hot like molten lava, chest creaking like a wooden floor in a haunted house. You didn’t expect to get everything you wanted, did you? Of course not. So it shouldn’t hurt that much to walk outside in need of that crisp autumn air and accidentally be met with some blonde eating off the face of your best friend. The love of your life. You don’t remember what time it is. You actually don’t even remember that you had been looking for Peter at all, but the realization hits you in the face once you recognize his brunette little head getting his hair pulled by some Walmart-brand Blake Lively.

and god you’re so pretty

your smile’s unforgiving

i’ll place it where nobody can find

You’re in too much shock to even beckon to him, but you know that the gears in your brain are turning with bells and whistles shrieking abort, abort, abort, abort! Before you can so as much turn around, Peter pulls away from the girl and yells for you. His face is carnation-pink, lips reddish from the girl’s lipstick. He’s waving at you like a little kid but your head feels like it’s underwater.

“Hey! Y/N! Been looking all over for you!”

Embarrassed, you wave back meekly before sliding back into the house. You hear hushed whispers of “shit, was that your fucking girlfriend?”, maybe a mild slap, Peter mumbling the words “best friend” and “not dating” and “what was your name again?” You could laugh if you didn’t feel like a literal hole was burning into your chest like the end of a cigarette charring flesh.

Calm, calm, calm. We are calm.

You don’t even know what to do with yourself, really. Your mantra isn’t helping and if you take one more sip of your wine you might as well throw up. Your eyes flash in surprise at MJ walking towards you, smiling but then settling her face into a confused frown.

“Hey, Y/N, is everything alr—“ MJ attempted to intervene, but you smile and nod your head maniacally as you pace through the house past her.

“I’m great! Fine. Um, I gotta go…”

You and MJ aren’t as close as you were in high school, but she knows well enough what you’re like when you’re in a state of crisis. She calls your name but you’ve dashed out of her grasp. She stares after you, puzzled, right before Peter nearly knocks into her, a collision of whiplash. The poor brunette stares wildly at the boy.

“Jesus, Parker, are you good?”

“MJ! Hi!” Peter exhales. His eyes are the size of flying saucers. He grips MJ’s shoulders and doesn’t realize the volume of his voice, which makes spectators around them look on curiously. “Listen, have you seen Y/N? I gotta talk to her.”

“Um, yeah, she went that way… dude, are you drunk?”

“No! Yes? All of the above,” he replies hurriedly, moving into the foyer and up the stairs.

You can’t really explain your emotions, process them even, so you do give into the wine bottle. Might as well detonate the bomb. Before Peter can call after you, you escape his field of vision in the hallway and immediately slip into the upstairs bathroom without him seeing you.

You stare at your reflection. There’s no point in crying, you think. Peter’s too good at prying and you’re too bad at explaining. It’s best not to worry him. Isn’t it? You want to believe you’re capable of staying sane with your little crush. Your stupid unrequited crush. You realize you’d have to reach into your guts and rip out all that you feel for Peter in order to get over it. It was best to drown out all those feelings now until you passed out. Maybe Michelle could take you home. Or a kind stranger could seduce you. Or you ‘accidentally’ fall out of the window and escape Peter’s questioning by being in a literal coma for a few days so you can forget the image of him kissing that girl that’s burned into your brain.

You frown at your reflection. You look pretty, Peter was right. It’s a miracle your makeup is still intact. Your under-eye liner is smudged a bit but the glitter on your cheekbones reflects even with this shitty bathroom lighting. With the alcohol inside you, everything seems to melt, like the walls are sweating and closing in on you. Before you’re able to control your breathing, the sound of your name reaches your ears like a harsh wind. It’s coming from your favorite voice in the whole world. Pounding on the door ensues.

“Hey! Y/N?”

“It’s… it’s occupied, sorry,” you caution in a high voice.

“Y/N, I know that’s you in there! Can you please let me in?” Peter begs. More raps on the door. You stay silent, staring at the sink.

“Please, Y/N, something bad’s happened… MJ’s…um…” Peter yells. You furrow your brows in worry. God, I can’t get a break. What a cursed fucking party.

Profanities are mumbled to yourself as you finally open the door. Peter rushes in and backs you into the wall, shutting the door promptly behind him and locking it. You gasp at how quickly he manages this without the two of you colliding, his swift movement and your intoxicated state dizzies you. Peter settles his palms on the wall, trapping you in between his arms.

“What happened to Michelle?” you glower. Peter sighs with a look of defeat and avoids your gaze.

“Nothing. Just needed you to let me in.”

“You asshole,” you roll your eyes and vociferate. Your teeth are gritted — you can’t bear to look at his face, but you do. Peter’s puppy dog brown eyes are boring into yours with desperation behind them. He takes his palm from the left of you and tilts your chin up, to which you shake your head in rejection.

“Hey, hey, look at me.” So you do. Your faces are inches away from each other. You can feel his hot breath in your face. It makes your body feel even hotter.

“What do you want, Peter?” you whisper.

“Want to talk to you,” he slurs.

“Okay, so talk.”

“Why were you running away from me?”

You scoff. You almost want to tell him the truth, but you can’t. “I’m in a bad mood,” you mumble. “I don’t need this right now, okay? I want to be alone. Why don’t you go back to that blonde? She seems to like you an awful lot.”

“Who— what? Are you… are you jealous?”

“Who you take home is none of my business, Parker, I swear on my heart. I’m a big girl, I can get an Uber by myself. Don’t worry about it,” you spit back at him. “Okay? Can I be left alone, please?”

“But I wanna be alone with you,” he confesses, absentmindedly twisting your hair between his fingers again. You didn’t think anything of it until now because this is something he always does. It’s as easy to him as breathing or blinking. But at the moment, he’s staring at your collarbone and your neck and the side of your jaw. You make eye contact with him and you gulp. Lipstick is smeared from the corner of his mouth like a streak of wine on a white sheet. The space between you feels like television static, like a red string you’re dying to pull into a knot to close the distance.

Instead, Peter does it for you. You blink once and his mouth is on yours, and you taste the other girl’s lipstick and mandarin oranges and a hint of copper from his bloody lip. You breathe in the smell of your own shampoo, which Peter keeps in his apartment for you even though he secretly uses it when you’re not around. His hand is gripped to your jaw, tongue peeking into your mouth as he pushes into your body. The hurt inside you crawls out of your throat and spreads your body like a blessing instead — a baptism, a rebirth.

His hands are to your sides now, pushing the mesh fabric of your shirt up so he can palm the skin of your upper hip. You sigh into him as he massages the skin lightly and he responds to your sounds with a subtle moan. You feel like your knees are buckling to his touch as your heat gets wetter and wetter.

“Touch me, Y/N,” Peter whispers in between your kisses. A whine emits from the back of his throat when you tug on his hair just slightly.

You pull away suddenly, though Peter doesn’t see this as a halt. He simply peppers wet kisses to your earlobe and down your neck. You sigh deeply and give him a slight push to the chest.

“What, what’s wrong?” he whispers. He’s drunk on you, maybe literally considering he lost count of how many shots he’d taken. He looks like an angel like this, brown hair mussed up with smoothed out curls falling over his face and a just-bitten pair of pink lips.

You touch the band-aid on his face. “You’re drunk, Peter.”

“Yeah? I know. So are you.”

“That’s the problem. I don’t want you to regret anything,” you mumble, biting the inside of your bottom lip.

“I couldn’t… I won’t. You know how much I love you, right?” Peter pleads. He’s breathless at the sight of you. You look away.

“Don’t say shit like that, Peter. You’d… you’d never say that sober.” Hurt flashes over Peter’s face as he listens to your words. He wants you to believe him so badly and he’s too drunk to process what you could be feeling. All he feels is that he wants to be absorbed into you at this very moment. His brain doesn’t even register the actions that made you upset in the first place.

“That’s not true, Y/N, you know that,” he urges. His thumb swipes over your inner eye, where a salty tear has fallen. His voice is hoarse, raspy, raw. “I only want you.”

You close your eyes and shake your head, tears flooding your cheeks that he tries to kiss away gently. “Why are you doing this?” you croak.

“What am I doing, baby?” he whispers, taking you in his arms and cradling you. Your cheek is against his warm chest and you can feel his beating heart. It ticks like a clock, which somehow comforts you in the most minuscule way. His tender knuckles are in your hair, combing your locks softly. Peter wants to find every jagged piece of you so that he can soothe it like nighttime tea and a spoonful of honey. Would you hate him for it?

“This is fucked up, Peter.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry” is whispered through hushed breaths against your hair. You pull back after a few minutes, embarrassed at how red your eyes must look. He cups his hands on your cheeks, tilting your face to look up at him. “I’m not lying to you. I… I love you so much that it scares me sometimes because you’re my best friend. I always get scared that I’m gonna lose you. And… and I don’t even know that girl. The one I was making out with. I think I just needed a distraction from you.”

An awkward beat.

“I don’t know why I got so drunk. I think because patrol was so fucked up and I’ve been having more nightmares, and I was scared that if I told you I loved you tonight that I’d fuck everything up, and I wouldn’t remember, and I couldn’t find you anywhere…”

You shush his rambles with your lips against his.

“I love you, too,” you whisper, wiping your eyes. “Always have. It scares me too.”

“Really?”

“Yes, you idiot, I thought it was obvious. You scare the shit out of me sometimes.” The two of you laugh darkly at your mutual drunken states. Your mutual confessions, the fear of your mutually assured destructions. The moment was making your heart swell up like a balloon.

A rude awakening breaks through with a pounding on the door. “HEY, ARE YOU GUYS DONE FUCKING? SOME OF US HAVE TO PISS.”

The two of you are broken out of your spell. You both erupt into laughter. You wipe your face with your sleeve as you open the door. Your toothy smile flashes the unfortunate spectator when you open the door.

Flash stands there with a look on his face that is both bewildered and dopey. His eyes flit between you and Peter, mouth agape.

“All yours, babe,” you taunt, holding Peter’s hand as he follows you across the hall.

___

i’ll be your old broken tv

your stuttering baby

your puppy when nobody’s home

He can barely take his hands off you once you get the door of your apartment unlocked. Immediately, his hands are all over you, pushing up your top to reveal your stomach. He kisses you roughly which has your head spinning.

“Peter… I—“ you giggle in-between kisses. He can’t detach himself from you. He doesn’t want to. He takes matters into his own hands and rips your jacket off for you, picking you up effortlessly so that your legs are around his waist until both of your bodies collapse into your bed.

You feel like you have motion sickness. Maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s the uneasiness of letting yourself fall blind to Peter’s desires. He knows how stubborn you are about literally everything and he doesn’t know how to fully convince you how much he wants you. He’s hovering over your body, forehead to forehead, pawing at your clothed body. “You’re so pretty,” he says, thumbing your cheek.

His eyes are glistening like the earth wet from being kissed by autumn rain. You swear to yourself it’s just lust but you know this is exactly how he looks at you when you’re just there. Existing. In his room, on his lap, on his fire escape in the middle of the night. You’ve always noticed but decided you’ve made it up in your head. But he really does love you like this, vulnerable and soft like a cherub out of heaven. He could certainly get used to the sight of you underneath him. His mouth turns up into a grin.

“What’s got you so happy?” you coo.

“You,” he breathes, dipping his head back down to meet your mouth.

“Cool,” you mumble in between your kisses, sighing as you feel Peter massage little circles underneath the hem of your shirt. “What’re you thinking about?”

“Mmm, lots,” Peter sighs. “There’s this girl… thought she’d never… like me back. But I think she does.”

“Tell me about her.”

“Well, she’s a hard one to chase down, y’know? She’s too pretty and smart for literally anyone. And she’s really good at playing with my hair, and knowing everything I like, and beating me at wrestling. And she smells like flowers. And looks like flowers.”

“Hmm, sounds like a catch,” you flash him a candy-sweet smile. The glow between you two is bioluminescent. Every part of you that Peter touches feels like electricity.

“Mhm. That you are,” Peter nods. He’s feeling feverish, sobering up from his many shots but still drunk on the sight of you. In the past few months, Peter feels like he’s only present between peripherals and the only time he’s even remotely tuned in to the world is when you’re beside him. His mind is swamped with only you and your kiss tastes like honey dripping into his mouth.

A low hum reverberates from your throat as you feel Peter’s lips on your neck. He settles back to your lips like he’s diving underwater. He doesn’t care about coming back up for air. Your brows knit in concentration as you try to pull him closer, despite the fact he’s basically falling through you like fog. Your brain is begging him to devour you, burn you, lick up all the hurt inside your chest from the night.

“Can I touch you, please?” Peter asks carefully, his voice low, brain spell-bound.

You nod fervently, heart beating out of your chest when you’re suddenly aware of how hard he is. Peter helps you slip out of your shirt and your jeans, leaving you in your underwear. He can barely breathe. He chuckles like he’s seeing something that shouldn’t be possible.

“Don’t laugh when you just stripped me naked, freak,” you chastise, covering yourself up with your arms.

“‘m not teasing you. I’m… I just can’t believe it. How pretty you are.”

“Shut up and touch me, Parker.” Peter feigns a look of seriousness before attaching his lips to your bare stomach. He loves the way your body reacts to his touch, breaths rising and falling to the pitter-patter of his heartbeat and his fluttered eyelashes. He teases you with kisses close to your center and descending down your thighs. You whine at how sensitive you feel, coaxing his head forward with your hands.

“Okay, needy,” he taunts, which makes you whine in response. He slides your underwear down your legs and doesn’t hesitate to lap you up at your clit. You gasp in response. He’s ravenous in the way he works, responding to all your little sounds by gripping your thighs harder until you’re nearly bruising. Your mouth gapes open wider when he slides in one finger, then two into your pussy, your wetness making his entrance easy.

“Jesus, fuck, where did you learn that?” you ask breathlessly as he pumps his fingers in and out of you in all the right places.

“Secret,” he murmurs, pausing his sucking to curl his fingers into your walls in a way that makes your insides flip. You immediately feel a pressure inside your core that slowly rises like a rollercoaster rolling upwards on a track. He brings his tongue back to your bud and scissors his fingers in a way that makes your hips buck upwards, which makes him lose his balance a bit. He chuckles, adoring the sound of your moans and the way your long eyelashes blink rapidly like a butterfly’s wings.

“Say my name,” he groans, desperate to hear your voice.

“Fuck,” you moan. “Fuck— Peter, just like that. Oh my God, Peter!”

He decides right then that his name sounds like it was made for your mouth, how it sounds like a hymn, a magic spell, a word invented by you, his creator. You grab fistfuls of his chestnut curls as you feel your body plunge into saccharine warmth. You surprise yourself with your restrained moans; you don’t recognize the sound of your voice. Peter’s moans echo yours as he watches you come undone. His lips part at the way you come, gazing at the way your body flexes like a viscous liquid with your hair fanning the sides of your face like Juliet on a bed of roses.

“Peter!” you strain, breathing heavily on the comedown. You blink at him, bleary-eyed, tasting yourself on his tongue once he reaches up to kiss you again. “Take your clothes off. ’s not fair that I’m fully naked and you aren’t.”

“Anything for you,” he says, echoing your words from earlier that night. You think that maybe you’re melting or you’ve been struck by lightning. Peter blesses you for your request because his cock is quite literally straining against his jeans. He can’t believe you’re real — that this version of you is real and right in front of him, instead of being a dizzying made-up thought in his brain. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t fantasize about what your pussy feels like, how you’d sound with your toes curling into the mattress as he fucks into you. He’d always shake the thought of you after he comes when he’s alone, embarrassed after his orgasms when he’d come back to reality. But now he doesn’t have to. You’re fulfilling his dreams at this very moment.

Not even thirty seconds pass before he’s stripped just like you. Your mouth waters at the sight of him. You’re convinced he must be carved from Ancient Rome, porcelain skin and smooth edges. His size is certainly unexpected and you’re shy about how your eyes are probably bugging out of their sockets.

“Do you… do you want me to get a condom?” he asks you, voice cracking slightly. You’re reminded of how boyish he really is, how despite everything, he’s always been your Peter. Your puppy, your best boy. You nod at him and grin. “Right… ah— where are they?”

“Under the bed, blue shoebox.”

He comes back from under the bed and rips the silver foil. He toys with it for a second, awkwardly. “Ah, this is… a good brand. Very safe.”

“Yeah, good reviews?” you gush at his awkwardness.

“Like I’d know,” Peter blushes and shrugs. You know that Peter’s not a virgin but he’d never been the type to be cocky or promiscuous. It was you in senior year of high school who broke down where a woman’s clitoris was, after all. You playfully hit him, urging him to continue. He nods sheepishly.

“Wait, do you want me to… do you want head, too?” you ask curiously.

He shakes his head, sliding the condom onto his length. “No, ‘m okay. Just want to be inside you really bad.”

You kiss him hard, and to his surprise, you push him onto his back. His eyes widen at your shift in attitude and newfound dominance. His taut mouth widens when you push down onto him, going up and down at an agonizingly slow pace as you grip his shoulders. “Oh, fuck.”

You respond graciously with a breathy sigh, eyes closed as you grind against him. “Fuck, that feels really good,” he whispers. “Gonna be the death of me.”

“That’s why they call it la petite mort, yeah?” you smirk. You start to grind faster and Peter’s eyes screw shut, mouth slack in a blissful fashion. He grips your hips harder and gives your ass a light smack as he groans.

“Ass man, aren’t you?” you tease. “Figured you were more into tits.”

“Can’t talk, feels too good,” Peter mumbles. He palms your breast with one hand in response to you, which makes you giggle. “Please don’t tease me at a vulnerable time like this.”

Your laughter is like music to his ears. He looks at you with a dark expression on his face, a sort of pained desperation that secretly begs you to wreck him. He wishes he could tell you that you could have him in any way possible, but he figures that the enormity of his desire would scare you away. Peter caresses your cheek and your head lulls backward at the elation of him inside you. Teasing a finger on your bottom lip, you take his finger into your mouth and you suck on it gently. He feels like he’s about to lose it. It’s a miracle he’s even lasting this long, he thinks to himself. He swore he almost came when he was just giving you head.

“Jesus fucking christ,” Peter breathes. The aura of you is everywhere in the room, the smell of your skin permeating his senses. He can’t get enough. You’re surprised by how vocal he is and it kind of makes you feel a bit cocky. His lips are slick and swollen from your love bites and you can’t help but admire how he looks underneath, curls loose over his warm forehead.

“Fuck, hold on. Can I do something?” he asks, his eyes doe-like. You nod quickly. “Can, um, can you get on your stomach?”

You oblige to his request, getting off from his lap and sinking into the bed, ass up. You nearly choke when he fills you up from behind, his hands cradling your hips. He’s slow with his thrusts at first, wanting to be careful to both control himself and to make sure he doesn’t hurt you. He reaches you at a deep angle and you nearly scream out, which encourages Peter to rock his hips a bit faster.

“Oh my god, Peter!”

Your head twists slightly so you can see his face. He reaches over immediately to kiss you, holding you by the chin forcefully as he pulls your hips towards him. His hand stays wrapped around your throat as he bends over to pepper kisses to your neck and down your back. A finger rests on your bottom lip that you take into your mouth. He moans at the feeling of it.

“Fuck, you’re gonna… make me come soon…” you breathe. You whine as he pulls your hair slightly to get better access to the side of your neck.

“Fuck, I fucking love you,” Peter pants. His breath is hot beneath your ear and it makes you shiver. His hushed curses are like little love notes spilling onto your shoulder. “My favorite girl.”

Your face falls into your bedsheets once he hits your sweet spot repeatedly. Your whole body vibrates at the feeling of it as you grip your sheets hard enough to strain your knuckles. Tears are pricking from the corners of your eyes on impact. Your orgasm is white-hot, blinding, paradisiacal.

“Hey, hey, hey, are you okay?” Peter whispers worriedly, slowing down his strokes and wiping your face gently.

“Yes,” you moan, shutting him up with a kiss. He pulls out of you and melts into your lips, the wave of your orgasm and the tenderness in your chest igniting a small fire in the pit of your stomach. The two of you are side by side now, limbs entangling one another in a blob of lust and warm bodies and languished breaths. He’s confused at your husky laughter but stays attached to your mouth, tasting you in all your sugared glory. The taste of blood pools into your mouth again and you pull back slightly. You lick his bottom lip carefully, lacing his mouth with your sweetness.

You smile devilishly at the red marks on his neck, marks that you left. He rubs his neck and it’s like he’s blushing all over, because he knows that although he’ll complain about the hickies in the morning, he feels blessed to have any remnants of you on his body. A burn, a bruise, a red stamp on his forehead with your name on it. He doesn’t care.

“You wanna stop?” he questions. He traces shapes on your hip, then letters. I-L-O-V-E-Y-O-U.

You shake your head and nuzzle his neck. “No, I want you to come. I want to see your face when you come inside me.”

The alcohol has definitely worn off but he still feels intoxicated in your presence. How can someone look like that? he wonders. You’re underneath him now, bright-eyed in anticipation. He licks his lips, amber eyes wide like a puppy. He wants to come — no, needs to — but he's also entertaining the idea of holding himself in so he can hear you orgasm ten more times.

“C’mon, Spidey,” you whisper, pulling his length towards you. He slides in slowly and exhales like it’s the first time again. You sigh dreamily, eyelashes fluttering at the halcyon feeling of warmth inside you. You feel so fucking full. Your nails dig into his muscular back as he moves faster, and the feeling is so euphoric that you’re sinking your teeth into his shoulder to muffle your screams.

“Oh, shit,” Peter sputters, whispering your name like it’s a poem he’s memorized. You nearly are a poem he’s memorized and it feels like heaven and more that he’s able to experience your body in this capacity — every inch, every curve. He’s about to be pushed to the edge once he hears you stutter his name mindlessly.

“Peter, Peter, Peter… f-fuck… gonna come again…”

Your back arches as shockwaves course through your body and suddenly Peter is gripping you from your hair to your shoulder hard enough to almost hurt in the best way possible. His knees buckle as he releases his come into you and you’re coming up for air after hearing his guttural moans and whines.

“Ffffuuuuckkkk,” Peter cries out, murmuring your name over and over like it’s the only word he knows.

You clutch his body like he’s a fallen hero (ha ha) and push the hair from his forehead, pecking him with kisses all over his face. His face is warm and so is his smile — so pretty, so unforgiving.

“We should do that, like, all the time,” he sighs, flopping his head onto your chest. You giggle, pulling him in your arms. His body is like a weighted blanket. He purrs at the feeling of your fingers through his hair.

“Definitely.”

___

i’ll be your cigarette ashtray

come back when it’s too late

worship you til morning comes

It was an annoying habit of yours. For some reason, your biological clock decided that when you got really drunk, you wouldn’t sleep in. Instead, like clockwork, you’d wake up at the crack of dawn.

Your eyes squint at your phone. 7:09 am. You groan, turning your body away from the sunrise that was perching itself higher and higher into the sky. The body next to you stirs at your movements, mumbling something unintelligible and laying an arm over your frame.

Your eyes flutter open to see Peter’s face, angelic and blue-tinged in the dimness of your room. His breaths are slow and quiet. You want to trace his cheekbones and his slightly crooked nose but you’re afraid to wake him, so you settle for a longing gaze.

“Morning,” he whispers, making you wince. His eyes are still closed but his mouth turns upwards into a smile.

“Sorry. Did I wake you?”

“Maybe, but I’m a light sleeper.” His pupils are blown out and black when he opens his eyes. He takes his hand and strokes your hair, inching over to your face and peppering a chaste kiss to your nose. He waits a second, then gives you a more passionate kiss on the mouth.

“Mmm. Morning breath,” you chuckle lightly.

“Hey,” he pouts. “That’s not how I like to be dirty-talked.”

You’re used to waking up next to Peter but the sight of him now is something new. He’s grown into his body and the way he looks naked right now, wrapped in your comforter… it’s like an alternate universe fr you. The sound of his morning voice is slightly raspy and low and you absolutely adore it.

“‘m not getting you off right now,” you mumble. “Make me breakfast first.”

He groans dramatically. He pulls you closer so that your nose is nestled into his warm chest. “Nope. Haven’t slept in like twenty-six hours, baby. Sweet dreams.”

#peter parker fanfiction #peter parker smut #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker fluff #peter parker x you #peter parker angst #tom holland smut #uni!peter parker #college!peter parker #peter parker oneshot #peter parker imagine #uni au #college au #friends to lovers #best friends to lovers

[lauras-collection]

all i’ll ever need ✮ t.h.

Tom Holland x fem reader college au

|| Masterlist ||

Summary: After spending a night with your best friend's brother, your life changes forever.

Words: 10k

Warnings: lots of crying (but not bad crying y’know? Just emotional crying :D), mentions of a one night stand, alcohol consumption and being tipsy, pregnancy stuff, a whole lot of fluff, this is just very wholesome imo

prompts used: friend’s sibling, college, accidental pregnancy (with a side of one night stand, mutual pining and dramatic love confession[i didn’t fully commit to those but there’s still a hint of them in there i think])

A/N: This is my entry for @venomsilk​ s valentine bingo!!! Thanks S for doing this and giving me a card that inspired a whole 10k fic. I know I ticked the 2k-5k box on the google from but the story just kept getting longer and longer (I feel like if I had had more time it would’ve gotten even longer) big thank you to @heyhihellowhatsup0​ for helping me so much with this fic! I’m in love with this and I hope you’ll enjoy it as well! 

Feedback is always appreciated ❤️ ✮

It’s fine. This is fine. It’s just a bad dream. You did not get knocked up by your friend’s older brother you’ve been crushing on for the past two years. It’s fine.

You never suspected Tom to even be interested in you in the first place. You always thought he was way out of your league. 

But then Harry and Sam threw that party. And maybe you got a little tipsier than you anticipated. Someone had the glorious idea to play a game of spin the bottle, and in your slightly inebriated brain, you thought it was a great idea. 

You don’t remember who else was sitting in the circle around the empty vodka bottle. All your senses were focused on Tom. 

Beautiful, handsome, sweet Tom. With his lazy smile and messy curls. How could you tear your eyes away from him? It was impossible. Like a painting in a museum you just couldn’t walk away from. 

You had thought about kissing Tom many times before. Caught yourself daydreaming about it when you were hanging out with Harry in their living room, and Tom was studying at the dining table or kicking a football back and forth with Harrison in the back garden. 

You had thought about kissing Tom many times before. Caught yourself daydreaming about it when you were hanging out with Harry in their living room, and Tom was studying at the dining table or kicking a football back and forth with Harrison in the back garden. 

You had thought about kissing Tom many times before. Caught yourself daydreaming about it when you were hanging out with Harry in their living room, and Tom was studying at the dining table or kicking a football back and forth with Harrison in the back garden. 

But real life? So much better. His lips were soft, his movements slow and a little cautious until you reciprocated the kiss. You tilted your head a little to allow his lips to roll against yours effortlessly. The butterflies in your stomach were already going wild, but when you opened your lips, and his tongue touched yours, it was like a fuse in your brain blew, and you completely stopped thinking and just allowed yourself to feel and enjoy the moment. 

Your hands ended up in his curls, and his arms wrapped around your waist to pull you into his lap. You could faintly hear someone yell, “Get a room!” but neither you nor Tom paid any attention to that.

You did end up in his room, though. And you did way more than just kiss. And it was good. Better than good. Amazing.

But Tom wasn’t known to be the type for commitment, so you decided to save yourself the rejection and left his room in the early morning hours before he woke up. 

You managed to get back to your flat without any problems and, after taking a much-needed shower, you went back to sleep.

The Monday morning after the party, you had to take your final exam of the semester in your 8 am class that you shared with Harry, and of course, the first thing he did was ask about you and Tom snogging in the middle of their living room. 

“It was a game of spin the bottle. What else was I supposed to do?” You told him. Harry just gave you a look that said he didn’t believe you. “You’re not mad I snogged your brother, right?” You’ve been friends with Harry since the first semester, and he was one of your closest friends. You couldn’t stand the idea of him being mad at you.

“Of course not, Y/N.” Harry reassured you. “You’re both adults and can make your own decisions. I’m just a little surprised. Weren’t you the one who said you’d rather chop off a limb than get involved with Tom?” 

You felt your cheeks heated up at that. So maybe you’d been trying to convince yourself that starting something with Tom was a bad idea. The tipsy version of you had forgotten about that, though.

“It was a game!” You whined while Harry smirked at you. He enjoyed seeing you squirm way too much. “Stop looking at me like that. I don’t wanna talk about it anymore.” And you definitely didn’t want to tell him that you spent the night with Tom as well. You crossed your arms in front of your chest. 

“Fine.” Harry chuckled. “Just don’t fall in love with him or anything. I don’t wanna see you get your heart broken.” 

You could tell he was just teasing you, but you were a little concerned that he might be onto something.

❀

You didn’t hear from Tom after the party. You tried not to be upset or disappointed. It was what you had expected. A meaningless hook-up with your friend’s brother. Nothing more, nothing less. 

But it stung. Whenever you were at Harry’s place to study, you caught yourself looking for Tom. Being hyper-aware of every movement or noise in the house. But he was never around. 

And whenever you saw him on campus, you pretended you didn’t see him. Maybe that was a little immature, but you didn’t know how to deal with the situation. You’d never had a one night stand. And him being Harry’s brother made things even more complicated.

After a week or two, you accepted the fact that it was a one-time thing. Even though you found yourself thinking back to that night a lot. At least you’d gotten the chance of experiencing it.

Life went on as normal. Until now. 

You’re staring at the stick in your shaking hands, unable to compute that your life is about to change forever. 

Pregnant. 

Maybe the test is a false positive? You should’ve gotten more than just one. But it had already been so embarrassed to get that one test. You’d been able to just so keep from saying that it was for a friend. Because what’s more suspicious than someone saying they’re buying a pregnancy test for a friend? Nothing. The clerk at the pharmacy probably didn’t even care. At least you didn’t run into anyone you know.

What are you going to do? 

You have to tell Tom, but you haven’t spoken to him since that night. You want to tell Harry to get his advice on what to do next, but it feels wrong to be telling him before Tom.

What a mess.

You decide to be a responsible adult for once in your life and make a doctor's appointment. You want to be a hundred per cent sure that you’re really pregnant before telling Tom.

•°❀°•

The doctor's appointment wasn’t as bad as you thought it’d be, but the result was as expected. You’re pregnant.

So now you’re standing in front of the boys’ house with shaky hands and sweaty palms. Maybe you should’ve texted him first. You’re kind of jumping this on him without any type of warning. You’ve had some time to come to terms with it. But he didn’t. 

Before you can decide whether or not you should leave and maybe send him a text and ask to meet him, the door opens, and Tom steps out. 

You’re caught by surprise, taking a step back but losing your footing. Tom’s quick to react, catching you around your waist.

All you can do is stare at him. It’s the first time you’re actually looking at him since that night, and flashbacks start invading your mind. Not the time.

“You okay?” Tom asks, a small smile on his lips. You mechanically nod. “Did you want to see Harry? He’s got class right now.” You know. That’s why you chose now to come by. 

Tom’s arm is still around your waist, and it takes you a couple of seconds to snap out of it.

“No, I actually came to talk to you. Do you have a few minutes?” 

Tom is visibly surprised but shrugs his shoulders. “Sure, I was just about to go to the coffee shop to grab something to drink. You wanna come with?” 

“Yeah, sounds good.” 

Maybe a public setting would be better. You don’t know how he’ll react, and this way, he’ll probably try and stay calm. Was this a good idea? You’re not sure. You’ve never had to tell someone you’re pregnant before. Fuck, you’re gonna have to tell your parents, too.

“You coming?” Tom’s looking at you over his shoulder, that small smile still on his face. You love that smile. He’s already taken a few steps down the sidewalk while you’re still standing in front of the door.

“Uh, yeah. Sure.” 

You follow Tom to the coffee shop silently. There’s a certain tension in the air, but you’re not sure if that’s just you panicking about what you’re about to tell him. 

By the time you’re sitting at a table across from Tom, you’re a nervous wreck.

“Are you okay? You seem a little out of it today.” Tom looks genuinely concerned. It makes you feel a little bit better. You’ve known Tom for a while now, and even though he might be a little bit of a fuckboy, he’s got a heart of gold and would do anything for his friends and family.

You make a noncommittal noise and shrug your shoulders. You don’t know if you’re okay. You’re overwhelmed, that’s for sure.

“How about I’m gonna get us some tea and then, if you want, we can talk about it?” 

You nod, still unable to speak. You knew it was going to be hard to tell him, but you never thought you wouldn’t even get any words out.

While Tom’s standing at the counter, you take deep breaths. It’s best to just say it. The longer you wait for the right moment, the more nervous you’ll get. There won’t ever be the right moment anyway. 

“Here we go. One breakfast tea with a dash of milk.” 

“I’m pregnant.” 

Tom flinches at your words, causing a bit of your tea to spill over the edge of the cup. You didn’t even give him time to put the drinks down. Maybe there wasn’t a right moment to break the news, but this was definitely a wrong one.

“Sorry.” You mumble, take a napkin, and start patting at his hand that’s covered in tea, his skin a little red. “Does that hurt? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“A-are you sure? With who?” By now, Tom is back in his seat across from you, his eyes wide, and you’re still wiping at his hand.

“You, Tom.” You press your lips together. At least it’s out in the open now. You told him. 

“But… I don’t understand. We used a condom.” He furrows his eyebrows and pulls his hand away from yours.

“It can still happen.” 

“Really?” 

“Condoms are 98% effective when used correctly. I looked that up. And we were both a little drunk.” You wring your hands together while watching Tom. He seems to still be processing the news. You don’t blame him. You only had sex once and haven’t talked since. This must be coming out of left field for him. It did for you, but at least you had the chance to prepare yourself for the possibility of being pregnant before taking the test.

“Are you really sure? Did you pee on the test correctly?” 

“There’s no wrong way to pee on a stick, Tom!” You cross your arms in front of your chest. Now he’s starting to be ridiculous. “Besides, I had a doctor’s appointment already and they confirmed it. I’m pregnant and it’s yours.”

“Fuck.” Tom buries his face in his hands before rubbing his face. “That was not supposed to happen.” He says it more to himself than to you, but you reply anyway. 

“I know.” You can feel your lips trembling and your eyes burning with tears. You’ve been crying a lot lately, and you don’t know if it’s because the situation is so overwhelming or if it’s got to do with all these hormones. Maybe a little bit of both. “I know. I’m sorry. I usually never do this and I’m not on the pill and I didn’t even think–“

“Hey. Hey, stop.” Tom scoots over to you, now wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. “It’s not your fault, okay? I was there, too, remember? We both have an equal part in this.” He runs his hand over your head soothingly. “And I’m gonna be there for you. Whatever you decide to do, I’ll be there.” 

His words make you cry even more. “I don’t know what to do.” You mumble against his chest, and you feel him sigh.

“Everything is going to be fine, darling. Let’s just take a deep breath, drink our tea before it’s completely cold and then we make a game plan. Does that sound good?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Okay.” He places a soft kiss on the top of your head then hands you your tea again. You wipe your face with the sleeves of your hoodie before taking the cup. One of Tom’s arms is still wrapped around you, and you appreciate it.

After you both finish your tea, which was indeed almost cold, Tom leans back in his chair a bit. “Have you told anyone else yet?” 

You shake your head. “No, I was thinking about telling Harry and asking him for advice on how best to tell you. But I felt weird telling him before you.” 

The corner of Tom’s mouth kicks up into a small smile. “I appreciate that. My brothers won’t let me hear the end of it as it is, but that would’ve been the cherry on top.” 

A beat of silence passes. 

“What do you wanna do?” He’s back to being serious now. “If you don’t wanna keep it and not tell anyone about this I understand. That’s okay.” 

“I do.” You notice Tom stiffen for a moment. “Keep it, I mean. I do wanna keep it. The baby.” 

Tom’s eyes turn glassy, and he reaches for your hand. “We got this, darling. It’s gonna be tough, but we’re gonna get through this. And I’ll be here for you through everything.” 

He’s said it before, but it’s reassuring to hear it again. 

“Have you had an ultrasound already?” He asks, playing with a napkin on the table. His eyes are fixed only yours, though.

“No.” You shake your head. “But I have an appointment in two weeks.” 

“Can I join you?” 

“I’d love for you to come.” 

•°❀°•

“Okay, let’s have a look at the little bean.” Both you and Tom are staring intently at the monitor, your hand clasped into his. You were extremely thankful that he was with you, that you didn’t have to do this alone. “Here we go. That’s your baby.” The doctor points at a little speck on the screen before pushing a few buttons. “It’s about the size of a kidney bean right now.” She smiles at you, “See that flickering there? That’s the heartbeat.” 

You tear up again and squeeze Tom’s hand tighter, unable to pull your gaze away from the monitor. 

The doctor takes the baby’s measurements and assures you that everything looks okay. She also tells you about the things you should and shouldn’t be eating and hands you about a million pamphlets. The amount of information you’re getting is slightly intimidating. 

You leave the doctors with the first few pictures of your baby and an official due date: February 24th. 

•°❀°•

You’re anxious about telling people that you’re pregnant. You don’t want to care what people think, but you do. It’s not like you’re going to shout it from the rooftops, though. You and Tom decided that you’re going to tell Harry and Sam first. They’re the baby’s uncles, after all. And it’s going to be hard to hide it from them since you’re always around each other. Next, you’re going to tell the rest of the boys. And then both of your parents. That’s probably the conversation you’re dreading the most. 

“Why do I feel like this is some sort of intervention?” Harry questions as the four of you sit down in the living room, you and Tom across from the twins. “Or like they’re going to tell us they’re getting a divorce and that we’re going to be switching between two homes now.” Sam shrugs his shoulders and just looks between you and Tom.

You bounce your leg up and down in an attempt to get rid of your nervous energy, but it’s not helping. Tom places his hand on your knee and gives it a soft, reassuring squeeze.

The motion doesn’t go unnoticed by Harry.

“Oh, you’re gonna tell us you’re dating now? Why are you making such a big deal out of it?” 

“That’s not quite it,” Tom admits, his pointer finger drawing random shapes on your knee. He’s nervous, too. “I don’t know how best to say it. So maybe we’ll just… say it?” He turns to you with raised eyebrows, and you think that’s the best option, too. Just rip the bandaid off. Like you did with Tom.

“I’m pregnant.” You hold your breath as you watch the news sink in. It takes a couple of seconds, then the questions start.

“How?” 

“See, Harry, when a man and a woman are attracted to each other–“

“Don’t give me the talk, Tom.” Harry rolls his eyes. “I know how babies are made. I’m just… When did that happen? And please don’t give me too many details.” 

“It was at that party wasn’t it?” Sam asks. “I saw you two disappear up the stairs.” 

“And you didn’t think to tell me?” Harry looks at his twin, his mouth open in shock.

“I didn’t think it was a big deal. And neither of them mentioned anything… so.” Sam shrugs his shoulders.

Harry moves his attention to you. “Why didn’t you tell me. I thought we were best friends.” 

“Harry, is you not knowing that Y/N and I had sex really the only thing you’re taking away from this? And stop making her feel bad about it.” Tom’s voice is stern.

Harry lets his head fall between his shoulders. “I’m sorry. I’m just shocked is all.” 

“None of us expected this to happen. But it did.” Tom leans forward to reach for his cup of tea.

“So you’re really pregnant?” Sam asks with raised eyebrows.

“Don’t ask me if I peed on the stick correctly. Your brother already did that.” You see Tom shrinking into the sofa a little as he takes a sip from his cup.

“Really?” Harry tilts his head to the side, biting back a smirk. 

“You’re not the only one shocked by the news, okay?” This causes all of your to let out a small laugh.

“So what are you going to do now?” Sam asks, his elbows resting on his knees. “You’re both still in uni. How are you going to handle all of that?” 

You’ve been wondering that, too. Uni is already stressful as it is, but with a baby? You know that other people have managed to do this, but that doesn’t mean that you’ll be able to pull it off as well.

“We’re gonna find a solution.” Tom says. “There’s still time to figure things out. I already looked into the possibility of pausing uni for a semester, or we’re just going to have to find a way to plan so our schedules don’t overlap. I start my final year in September. So I’ll almost be done with uni by the time the baby is born. We’ll figure something out.” 

You didn’t know Tom had already thought so thoroughly about all of this. It seems like he already has a plan while you’re still struggling to wrap your head around the fact that you’re pregnant in the first place.

“You’d really take a semester off from uni?” You ask, and you can already feel tears pricking at your eyes. This constant crying is really annoying. But how can you not cry when he’s being so sweet and responsible.

“Of course. If that means our baby is taken care of properly, I’ll do it.” 

Hearing him say ‘our baby’ is the final straw; your lips start to wobble, and then you're bawling. 

“C’mere.” Tom can’t help but laugh softly at your emotional outburst. He’s witnessed a few of them already and has told you repeatedly not to be embarrassed about them because they’re adorable. You’re sure he’s just saying that to make you feel better, though.

“This is kind of weird.” You hear Harry whisper to Sam. “Seeing them together, don’t you think?” 

“I guess we’re gonna have to get used to it.”

Telling your other friends went down similarly to telling Harry and Sam. At first, they were surprised, then a little worried, and finally they made some harmless jokes about it. 

Breaking the news to your parents, though? Incredibly nerve-wracking. Tom insisted on joining you, and you were afraid of your parents' reaction. It’s the first time they’re meeting Tom. He isn’t even your boyfriend, and you’re going to tell them that they’re going to be grandparents.

Your parents took the news surprisingly well, though. You showed the ultrasound pictures to them, and your mum insisted on making herself a copy of them to put on the fridge. Everyone held their breath when your dad asked Tom if he was going to ‘do the right thing and make an honest woman out of Y/N’. However, that was followed by your mum lightly hitting his upper arm and telling him it’s not the eighties anymore. Your Dad then broke out into a laugh, saying he only wanted to see Tom’s reaction. 

After you left your parents place, you told Tom not to be the type of dad to take bad dad jokes like that, to which he just shrugged his shoulders and said, “No promises, darling.” 

•°❀°•

Morning sickness is kicking your butt. And whoever chose the name morning sickness was cruel. Because it’s not just in the mornings. You’ve been throwing up all night. You’re supposed to meet Harry to help him with a project for uni, but you don’t have the energy. Deflated, you call him.

“I’m sorry. I really wanted to help you out, but I barely got any sleep last night.” You manage to say before the biggest yawn of your life leaves your body.

“Are you feeling okay?” Harry’s voice is laced with concern. 

“Not really.” You admit. “Honestly, I feel like shit.” 

“I’m sorry. Do you need anything?”

“No. It’s okay.” You sigh, leaning your head against the back of the couch. “I’ll just try to get some sleep. I’m really sorry I can’t help you like I promised.” 

“Don’t worry about it, Y/N. Your health, and the baby’s health, is much more important than my uni project.” 

“Stop it. You’re gonna make me cry again.” 

“Okay.” Harry laughs, “Get some rest.” 

You say goodbye and hang up the phone. Even though Harry told you not to feel bad about the whole thing you do. You promised you’d help him. You hate breaking promises.

You decide to get comfy on the couch and watch a movie. Maybe that’ll get your mind off things. You’re not even halfway into the movie when the doorbell rings. You have no idea who it could be. Maybe it’s just a delivery for one of your neighbours.

Instead, when you open the door, Tom is standing in front of it, a duffel bag in his hand.

“What are you doing here? And what’s with the bag?”

“Harry told me you weren’t feeling okay. And I hate the thought of you being alone. So here I am.” He smiles sheepishly.

“How long are you planning to stay?” You raise your eyebrows. 

“Uh… Actually I thought I’d move in. This is just my most important stuff.” He lifts the bag up slightly. 

“You thought what? And you didn’t think to, I don’t know, ask me first?” You cross your arms in front of your chest. You get that he’s just looking out for you, but this is just a little much.

“Listen. I know this is sudden and yes I should’ve probably talked to you before but I didn’t want you to be alone now while you’re not feeling well. I’ll be your personal assistant. Anything you need, I’ll do it for you. And if you wanna throw me out because I’m annoying you can do that, too.” The corner of his mouth kicks up into a smile. And how can you be mad at him when he’s looking at you like that? You can’t.

With a sigh, you open the door further, “Come in.” 

❀•°❀°•❀

Tom’s scrolling through his phone aimlessly. You had gone to bed early, still exhausted from the day you’d had, and he wasn’t sure what to do. He could watch some TV, but he was scared of potentially waking you up. You needed rest. Tom felt bad that you had to experience all these pregnancy symptoms while all he could do was watch and take care of you as best as he could. But that didn’t make the symptoms go away. He’s held your hair more times than he can count these past few weeks, and he hates seeing you like that. Not because he thinks it’s gross that you’re emptying your stomach about three times a day, but because he hates seeing you in pain. You’ve almost reached the second trimester, though, so hopefully, the morning sickness will stop soon. Tom read online that that’s usually the case and that the second trimester is the most comfortable one for most women. 

He’s tried all the home remedies his mum shared with him to help you through it, and they seemed to at least alleviate some of the symptoms. 

Suddenly, he heard shuffling in the kitchen. A glance at the time tells him it’s quarter past ten. At least you had gotten some sleep. Maybe. Getting up from his seat on the sofa, he makes his way towards where you are in the kitchen. 

“What are you looking for?” He leans against the doorframe as he watches you opening every single cabinet.

“Pickles.” You mumble, and he thinks it’s adorable how you’re moving around the kitchen in your sleep shirt and messy hair looking for pickles. “I don’t even like pickles. But I need pickles. And I need them now.” You open yet another cabinet. “But I don’t have any.” You turn to Tom, your bottom lip pushed forward in a pout.

“Makes sense. Why would you have any if you don’t like them?” He asks, his eyebrows raised.

You cross your arms, “Stupid.” 

Tom lets out a laugh, “You’re something else.” 

You can’t help but notice how cute he looks in his wrinkled white shirt and grey sweatpants. Him living here definitely has its perks. You can ogle him whenever you feel like it. And you feel like it a lot.

Tom turns around, and you assume he’s going back to the living room, but then you hear keys jangling, and it sounds like he’s putting on his shoes.

“What are you doing?” You ask as you look at him, indeed putting on his shoes.

“Tesco’s still open for another thirty minutes or so. I’m gonna get you some pickles.” He says it so matter of factly that it makes your heart swell. 

“Really?” 

Tom looks at you with a gentle smile, “Of course.” He wraps his arms around you in a quick hug, then places a kiss on your cheek. “I’ll be right back.”

❀

When Tom gets back, he finds you on the sofa, your cheeks wet with tears. “What happened? What’s going on?” Tom could never be sure if something bad happened or if your emotions just got the best of you yet again. He hated seeing you cry, but this pregnancy was a sort of exposure therapy for him in that regard.

“I’m sorry.” You say as you look at him with your teary eyes. “You went all this way for me to get the pickles and now I don’t want them anymore. I’m sorry.” 

Tom lets out a sigh, puts the pickles down on the coffee table and wraps his arms around you. “It’s okay, darling. Don’t worry about it. It’s the least I could do. And now we’ve got them in the house for when you crave them next.” You lean your head against his shoulder, almost melting against him. He places a kiss on the top of your head. “You wanna try and get some sleep?”

“Not yet. This is nice.” You mumble against the fabric of his shirt, and Tom can’t help but smile. 

“It is.” 

❀

The sight that greets Tom in the kitchen the following morning is one he never thought he’d see. There you are, sitting at the kitchen table, a tub of vanilla ice cream in front of you, with a spoon in one hand and a pickle in the other. He watches carefully as you scoop some ice cream on your spoon and put it in your mouth before taking a bite from the pickle.

“Is that supposed to taste good?” He asks sceptically. He’s trying not to pull a face, but just the thought of eating that has shivers running down his back.

“Oh my gosh, so good.” You practically moan, and Tom has to close his eyes for a moment. Pickles and vanilla ice cream. Unbelievable.

❀•°❀°•❀

“Are you nervous?” Tom asks as the two of you enter the doctor’s office. It’s the day of your 20-week scan, and you’re going to find out the sex of your baby. You discussed whether you wanted to find out or let it be a surprise, but both of you agreed that the baby itself was enough of a surprise. You want to know what you’re having. Plus, your mum’s been eager to find out so she can start buying stuff for the baby. Even though you told her that no matter if it’s a boy or a girl, you won’t be dressing them in just pink or blue.

“A little, but mostly excited.” You smile at him, and he takes your hand to give it a squeeze. “I just hope everything is okay.” You place your free hand on your bump. It’s grown quite a bit in the past few weeks, and you can’t really hide the fact that you’re pregnant anymore.

“I’m sure it is.” Tom smiles.

You’re called into the ultrasound room, and you can’t help the butterflies in your stomach going wild.

During the check-up, your doctor tells you that the baby is healthy and growing as expected. And then you get to hear the heartbeat for the first time. It might be the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard. When you look at Tom, he’s got tears in his eyes, but he’s smiling widely. Your smile mirrors his, and you tighten your grip on his hand. He reaches for your face and wipes your tears away with his thumb. 

The doctor gives you a few moments and prints out some pictures for you to take home. 

“You want to find out if it's a boy or a girl?” She asks, and both you and Tom nod eagerly.

“Yes, please.” 

Tom places a kiss on the back of your hand as you both look at the doctor expectantly. 

“You’re having a girl!” She says, causing Tom to raise his fist in victory.

“Yes!” He exclaims, making you chuckle. He’s mentioned before that he’s hoping it’s a girl. Both of you would’ve been fine either way, but he wanted a little princess he could spoil. You’ve got a feeling that he would’ve spoiled a boy the same, though. You’re going to have to make sure he isn’t too lenient with her in the future. Tom seems to be the type of dad who can’t say no to his kids. 

You stop yourself from thinking too far into the future, though. You’re not sure where you and Tom stand, if you’re going to end up together or if you’re going to be co-parents for your little girl. You’re just grateful that he’s here with you now, that you’re not going through all of this alone and that he does everything in his power to make this pregnancy as comfortable as possible for you.

❀•°❀°•❀

“You’re still up?” Tom asks as he takes off his jacket. He’s been at the pub with the boys while you spent the majority of the evening studying. It’s almost one in the morning, and you’re exhausted, but every time you try and get some sleep, the baby starts kicking as if she wants to become a professional football player in the future.

You rub your hand over your bump, “Baby won’t let me sleep.” You see Tom’s expression soften. 

He comes over and wraps his arm around you. “Maybe you should go to bed. That might help.”

“You don’t think I’ve tried that?” Your eyebrows are furrowed, and your voice is a little harsher than you intended. 

“I’m sorry.” Tom says softly. He’s been an angel, never taking your angry outbursts personal. 

“I’m just so tired.” You whine and rest your head against his shoulder. “I just wanna sleep. But every time I lay down she starts kicking.”

Tom places his hand next to yours on your bump. “We talked about this baby girl. You need to let your mum get some rest.” He says in a mock stern way, and it makes you smile. You love it when he talks to the baby. And she loves it, too. “C’mon, mama bear. Let’s get you to bed.” He stands up and reaches his hands out for you, and helps you get up from the couch. The two of you make your way towards your bedroom and the thought of laying in your bed and staring at the ceiling for half of the night again makes you reluctant to even step foot into your room.

“Will you keep me company?” You ask, looking at Tom. He’s been sleeping on the couch for the past months, and while you do feel bad and you’re sure his back must be killing him, your bed is not big enough for two people. But maybe it’ll work for one night.

“Of course.” He pushes your bedding to the side so you can lay down and then climbs in next to you, pulling the blanket back in place. “Maybe we should get one of those pregnancy pillows. I read those help with sleeping.” He muses. It’s adorable how he is so invested in the pregnancy, always researching everything. Getting knocked up while still in uni wasn’t part of the plan, but you’re happy it happened with Tom.

“Yeah, maybe.” You close your eyes even though you know you won’t be able to fall asleep. “How was your night?” 

“It was fun. Told the boys we’re having a girl. They’re stoked.” You can hear the smile on his face and open your eyes so you can see it, too. You love his smile. 

“This is still so unreal, isn’t it?” You whisper, placing a hand on your belly. It’s been months, but sometimes you’re still shocked you’re having a baby.

“It is.” He nods. “But I’m glad I’m doing it with you.” His hand joins yours again, his thumb rubbing against the fabric of your shirt. 

“Do you ever think about that night?” You ask him. You’ve never talked about it. Even though the reminder of it gets more prominent every day, neither of you has ever brought it up.

“I do.” He looks at you with a small smile. 

“Did you ever regret it?” You’ve been wondering that for a long time. It wasn’t just a harmless one nightstand. Even without you ending up pregnant, he’s your best friend’s brother, and both of you hadn’t really been thinking straight that night.

“No.” You’re not sure because you can’t really see in the dim light of your bedroom, but it looks like Tom’s blushing. “It’s uh… It’s kind of something I’d been wanting to do for a while.” He pulls a face. You could only stare at him. “That sounds weird. What I’m saying is… You’ve always fascinated me, and I was too chicken to do anything about it. But then, for once in my life, the bottle was in my favour.” He huffs out a little laugh, but then he turns serious again, his eyes focused on his hand still resting on your belly.

“When I woke up the next morning I was kind of devastated you were gone. For a second I thought it had only been a dream.” He pauses for a moment. “I’d been hoping you’d let me take you out on a date. Maybe even for breakfast that morning. But you were gone.” 

You couldn’t really comprehend what he was telling you. You never thought he’d be into you like that. Or at all. It was enough of a shock that he wanted to spend a night with you, let alone take you on a date.

“But you could’ve reached out to me or something.” 

He looks at you as if to say, Really? “You couldn’t even look at me, Y/N. I thought you regretted the whole thing.” 

“Not for a second.” You’re quick to say, placing your hand on top of his. “Okay… Maybe for a split second when I found out I was pregnant.” You admit with a sheepish smile

“But not anymore?” He tangles your fingers with his.

“Not anymore.” You look at each other for a long moment. “Even though baby isn’t allowing me to get some sleep.” Your attempt at breaking the tension works.

“She still thrashing around in there?” 

You nod. “Maybe she want’s to be a breakdancer. She’s definitely got a lot of energy. Just like her daddy.” 

An emotion passes through Tom’s eyes quickly, but you don’t get to decipher it because he’s moving, so he’s laying perpendicular to you, half his body not even on the bed anymore.

“Hey, baby girl. You need to calm down so Mummy can get some sleep, can you do that for me?” 

It feels like a miracle, but the moment Tom starts talking to the baby, she actually calms down. 

You run your hand through Tom’s soft curls. “I think it’s working. Just keep talking.”

“You like the sound of my voice, huh?” He asks, directed at your bump. “That’s good because you’re going to hear it a lot.” He looks at you, and you smile at him, your fingers playing with the curls at the nape of his neck. “Mum is looking very sleepy right now. Do you think I can talk her to sleep? I’m sure I can think of some boring stories.” 

That makes you huff out a laugh; even the most boring stories can be riveting when Tom tells them. He’s a great storyteller.

Tom starts to list off what he did all day, down to the most minute details. Somewhere after him explaining why he chose Earl Grey instead of Breakfast Tea this morning, you fall asleep.

“I think we did it, baby girl.” Tom whispers, afraid of waking you up again. “Mum’s asleep. But I’m gonna keep talking. Just to be safe. Maybe you’re asleep, too, and aren’t even listening anymore. That’s okay.” He smiles. Your hand is still loosely placed on the back of his neck. There’s no place he’d rather be right now.

❀

The next morning, Tom feels like an old man. He spent half the night kneeling next to the bed (apparently, talking yourself to sleep is also a thing) before he finally crawled into bed beside you at four in the morning. And now his knees and back are killing him. But then he looks at you, still peacefully sleeping next to him, and it’s all worth it.

Carefully, he peels the blankets off of himself and gets out of bed. Your conversation from the night before is still at the forefront of his mind, and even though he confessed that he wanted to take you out on a date back then, and you had insinuated that you would have liked it if he had reached out to you after that night, he’s still not completely sure where you stand. At least he knows you don’t regret anything. 

He’s got an idea on how he might get some answers, though.

❀

You’re awoken by someone gently running their hand over your head. At first, you think you’re still dreaming, but then you open your eyes, and Tom is looking at you with a soft smile.

“Good morning, darling. How did you sleep?” 

“Heavenly.” You let out a dreamy sigh, causing Tom to laugh.

“That’s good to hear.” He leans down and places a kiss on your forehead. “So I was thinking…” He starts, his face so close that your noses are almost touching. “You wanna grab breakfast with me?” 

You feel warmth spread through your chest at the way he was looking at you, his wild curls framing his face in the most beautiful way. And he’s asking you out? Right now?

“Is this gonna be a date?” You raise one eyebrow, and Tom shrugs.

“If you want it to be.” He smiles, and you can see his freckles move over his face with the motion. It makes you melt. He makes you melt. You’d love to go on a date with him. But you’re not sure you’re feeling up to it right now. Yes, you did get a couple of hours of sleep. But you were still exhausted.

As if he could read your thoughts, he says, “Don’t worry. You don’t have to change clothes or walk very far.” There’s a mischievous glint in his eyes as he grins at you.

“Huh?” 

Tom stands up from your bed before helping you up, too. You’re not yet at the stage where you actually need help getting up, but you appreciate it anyway.

“C’mon.” He takes your hand and leads you into the kitchen, where he’s prepared the most elaborate breakfast you’d ever seen outside of a restaurant or hotel. There was tea and orange juice and all sorts of different kinds of bread and spreads. Pancakes and waffles. A full jar of pickles. 

You look at Tom wide-eyed.

“I didn’t know what you’d be feeling like so I made a little bit of everything.” He smiles a little sheepishly. “There’s also vanilla ice cream in the freezer.” 

You hadn’t been craving pickles and ice cream as much anymore, but it did happen every now and then, and you really appreciated Tom for thinking of it.

“This is… incredible. Thank you so much.” You wrap your arms around Tom, who reciprocates the hug immediately.

“Of course. Anything for you, darling.” He kisses your cheek. “And our baby girl of course. Who’s been so nice and let her mum sleep a little bit.” He grins as he places both his hands on your belly.

“All thanks to you.” 

“What can I say, I love boring my girls to sleep.”

❀•°❀°•❀

December was a hectic month. All the holiday parties and gift shopping was already stressful as it is, but being pregnant made it even more stressful. But you got through the holiday season alright. You spent boxing day with Tom’s family, which you were a little nervous about, but everyone welcomed you with open arms. It felt a little weird to spend a holiday with them. Yes, you’re carrying their future granddaughter and niece, but you and Tom weren’t a couple. At least not officially. As much as you’d like that. 

Tom’s been a sweetheart taking care of your every need, and you find yourself gravitating towards him more and more each day. It’s no secret that the two of you are attracted to each other; otherwise, you wouldn’t be in this situation, but neither of you is taking the final step. 

You cuddle a lot, and Tom has now permanently moved into your bedroom, even though your bed is still too small. He says he wants to be close to you. But you haven’t kissed or anything. You’re in a weird limbo where you’re more than friends but not really a couple. 

You’re sorting through all the presents you received from friends and family, a lot of stuff for the baby, when Tom enters the living room. He’s hiding something behind his back as he slowly walks towards you.

“I know we said no presents but… This one is mainly for our girl when she grows up. It’s not really finished yet, but I thought now’s a good time to give it to you.” He smiles at you softly, then hands you the present. It’s wrapped in red and green wrapping paper and looks like a book. When you unwrap it, you see that it is indeed a notebook. It’s leather-bound, and when you turn it in your hand, you can see that about half of it looks like it’s been written in already. You carefully open it. The first page is blank, but when you flip the page, you see the next page is filled with words in Tom’s handwriting.

“I started journaling.” Tom says, “I wrote everything down so I wouldn’t forget.” He smiles as you scan over the words on the page. He’s describing the day you told him you’re pregnant. How you spilt your tea and then just blurted it out. How shocked he was.

“And I thought it would be nice for our girl to have. So she knows that even though she’s a surprise, she’s loved and we couldn’t be happier to have her.”

At this point, tears are freely falling from your eyes, and you can’t even see the words on the page. 

“I’d like to continue writing in it until it’s full. Jot down every little thing that happens, every milestone of hers. You can write in it to if you want I-“ 

He doesn’t get to continue because you surged forward and planted your lips on his. He makes a sound of surprise, but before he can properly react, you’ve already pulled away again. You bite your lip. That wasn’t really a conscious decision on your part. You’d just been so touched by his thoughtfulness you had no other way of coping with your emotions than kissing him.

“I’m sorry, that-“ 

This time it was his turn to interrupt you. He gently cups your face in his hands and places a soft kiss on your lips. “No need to be sorry, darling. You can kiss me anytime.” His eyes are sparkling as he looks into yours, the little crinkles by his eyes telling you he’s smiling even though you can’t see it because his face is so close to yours. 

You close the small distance between you and kiss him again. This time longer. You wrap your arms around his neck, and he pulls you closer to him, as close as you can get with the bump between you.

“I take it you like it?” He asks after you moved away to catch your breath. You’ve got one hand placed on the side of his face, your thumb caressing his cheek.

“I love it. It’s so thoughtful… She’s gonna love it.” Tom’s face splits into the biggest smile as he gently tightens his arms around you. 

“Happy Holidays, Y/N.” 

•°❀°•

You and Tom spend New Year's Eve at home. You told him he could go out with the boys if he wanted to, but he insisted on staying at home. “There’s no way I’m leaving my very pregnant girl alone at home on New Year's Eve. Besides, I’d miss you too much.” He’d said, and it melted your heart. So now you’re both cuddled up on the sofa, watching TV while Tom has his laptop up with a countdown to midnight. 

“Is it lame that I can’t wait for it to be midnight so I can go to bed?” You ask, your head resting on Tom’s shoulder as you focus on the countdown. Only a few minutes left. You paused the show you were watching after the last episode was over, so now you’re just sitting there, staring at the clock while Tom holds your hand in his, playing with your fingers.

“I don’t think it’s lame. Honestly, I’m looking forward to joining you.” He grins at you, and you roll your eyes.

“Of course you are.”

He places a kiss on the top of your head and gives your hand a squeeze. “I love falling asleep with you, okay? And waking up with you for that matter.” 

You lift your head from his shoulder to give him a kiss, but he pulls away before your lips can touch his. You look at him, confused. 

But then you hear a mechanical voice from Tom’s laptop start counting down from ten. 

Your eyes are locked on Tom’s for the whole ten seconds, and then it’s midnight, and Tom finally kisses you.

“Happy New Year, darling.” He whispers against your lips.

“Happy New Year, Tom.” 

“It’s gonna be a good one, I know it.” He places his hand on your belly. “Happy New Year, baby girl. We can’t wait to meet you.” He says, directed at your bump, and you run your hand through his curls, fighting tears. Tom looks back at you and smiles, giving you another soft kiss. “It’s gonna be tough, but we’ll get through this. And I’m so glad I get to do it with you, Y/N.” 

“I’m glad I get to do it with you, too.” You say and pull him into another kiss.

❀•°❀°•❀

“Are you sure?” Tom asks, his brows furrowed in concern. “We don’t have to go.”

“It’s your brothers’, and my best friend’s, birthday, Tom. Of course we’re going.” You say, a stubborn edge to your voice.

Your due date is ten days away, and Tom has been on edge since the beginning of the month.

“The baby could come any minute now.” He says for about the millionth time in the past three days. It’s starting to annoy you. Okay, it’s annoying the crap out of you.

“Tom.” You grunt as you try to put on your shoes, but you’re not able to do that without his help. He immediately crouches down on the floor and helps you. 

“I’m just saying.” He murmurs. “Okay, compromise.” He looks up while tying your shoes. “We go, but we’ll take the hospital bag and as soon as you feel anything even contraction adjacent, we leave.”

“Fine.” 

You don’t wanna snap at Tom, but your back’s been killing you, and you just wanna have a good time celebrating your friends’ birthday. You know a stressful time is ahead of you, and you’re kind of seeing this as a last hoorah. 

Not that you think your life is over once the baby is born, but it’s gonna be a lot of work for a while.

“I’m sorry. I’m being mean for no reason.” You admit when Tom is standing in front of you again. “I’m just a little anxious and my back hurts and-“

“I understand.” Tom smiles and gives you a kiss. He’s the best.

“How can you be so calm? I mean besides you telling me the baby could arrive any second now.” You can’t help but smirk.

“Oh, I’m not calm at all.” He admits. “I’m freaking the fuck out inside. I just want everything to go as smoothly as possible. And planning and preparing stuff helps.” He shrugs his shoulders. Who would’ve thought that Tom, known for his chaotic energy, would ever say something like that?

And he’s been taking the whole planning part very seriously. He’s a couple months away from graduating, and he’s already planned out the next two years of his life. Well, your life, too, in a way. 

You’ll stay in your flat when the baby is born. You’ve already cleared a corner of your bedroom for her. And then, once Tom finishes uni, he wants to look for a job that’s not too far away from campus so that the three of you can move into a bigger flat where the baby can have her own room. 

“You’re gonna be a great dad.” You smile at him, and you can feel the pride radiating off of him at your words.

“And you’re going to be an amazing mum.” 

❀

He takes your hand and leads you towards the front door, where he picks up the hospital bag. The bag’s been packed for weeks after Tom read something about a couple that hadn’t had their bag ready, and the father of the baby had no idea what to pack. Better safe than sorry. Tom had said. At least he didn’t make you carry it around everywhere.

The twins were having a small get together for breakfast at the house, just for their closest friends and family. The big party was tonight, which you and Tom would not be attending. You told him he could go, but of course, Tom was too scared you’d go into labour while he’s not there. You found it endearing. Yes, you felt bad that he missed quite a few events he would’ve gone to if it wasn’t for the baby, but you know that he wanted to be there for you; he didn’t stay home because he felt like he had to.

After breakfast, you lay down on the couch. The smallest activities are draining your energy these days.

“How are you feeling?” Harry asks as he sits down next to you. 

You open one eye to look at him. “I’m hanging in there.” You laugh, “But to be honest, I can’t wait for her to finally be here. I’m so over this whole pregnancy thing.” 

“Yeah? You ready for the whole parenting thing, though?” 

You think about that for a moment. While you don’t fully know what to expect, you have a feeling that you’re ready. Or at least as ready as you can be. You run your hand over your belly.

“I think so, yeah.” 

Harry smiles at you, “You and Tom are gonna be great parents. And I’m gonna be the favourite uncle, of course.” 

“Obviously.” You roll your eyes with a smile. You’re beyond glad that you and Tom being together and having a baby isn’t weird for Harry or any of the other boys. Everything was sudden and unexpected, but it didn’t really change the group’s dynamic. 

It’s a little weird to think that soon you’ll have to take care of a tiny human. You’re going to be a mother. You had nine months to get used to the idea, but it still feels unreal. 

“Darling? Mum and Dad are leaving now, and they offered to give us a lift. You wanna go home?” Tom enters the living room, and for a moment, you just stare at him. He really is the most beautiful man you’ve ever laid eyes on. 

“You guys are so cute it’s disgusting.” Harry laughs, snapping you out of your thoughts. You furrow your eyebrows. You hadn’t been doing anything? “The way you look at each other is enough.” Harry elaborates.

You turn to look at Tom again. He’s trying to hide his smile but failing, his cheeks a little red. 

“Let’s go home.” You nod and hold up your arms. Both Harry and Tom help you stand. Once up, you have to take a moment to breathe. Tom’s holding you around the waist, while his other hand is holding yours.

“Okay?” He asks, you can hear the worry in his voice. He’s told you time and time again how much he’d give to take your pain away. But sadly, that’s not how it works. 

The back pain is not letting up, and you squeeze Tom’s hand tightly, shaking your head. You try to breathe through the pain, and then finally, it’s better. You stand up fully. 

“Okay, it’s better.” 

Tom looks at you sceptically. “Are you sure?”

 “Yes, let’s just-“ And then you feel it, the slow trickling of fluid. You look at Tom with wide eyes. “Either I peed myself or my water just broke.” You whisper, sending both Harry and Tom into a panic. The first thing Harry does is call for his mum. 

Nikki quickly enters the living room and takes in the scene. 

“Mum what are we supposed to do?” Harry asks, flailing his hands. You’d laugh if you weren’t so overwhelmed. You can barely pay attention to what is said, but Nikki leaves to get a towel and then Tom helps you sit down again. Tom joins you on the sofa, rubs your back and gives you a kiss on the cheek.

“We need to call the midwife.” You tell Tom, and he nods, pulling out his phone. He puts it on speaker, and after you tell the midwife everything you’ve been feeling and experiencing lately and that you think your water broke. She tells you that you should get to the hospital just in case. 

“See, good thing we brought the bag.” 

❀

It turns out that what you experienced was indeed your water breaking, so now you’re in active labour. The contractions are coming in quicker successions and are getting more and more painful. Maybe you curse out Tom a few times. Maybe more than a few times. But he keeps praising you and telling you how amazing you’re doing, and reminding you that you’ll get to meet your baby girl soon. 

And then you hear her cry out for the first time, and you know that all of that pain was worth it. You’re crying when the doctor gently places your daughter in your arms, and you can’t stop looking at her. She’s the most beautiful creature. 

When you look up at Tom, he’s also got tears in his eyes. He leans down to give you a kiss. “Good job, mama.” 

After a while, you hand her over to Tom, and he carefully takes her, making sure to support her head like the midwife has taught the both of you. He’s staring down at her with wonder in his eyes. You can’t blame him.

“Hi gorgeous… Hi Dodie.” He whispers, and she makes a little noise at the sound of his voice. “I love you so much.” He places a kiss on the top of her head. 

This is one of those moments you know you’ll cherish forever. 

It takes a while before Tom can bring himself to hand her back to you, but she’s getting a little whiney with hunger. Once she’s securely back in your arms Tom leaves to let your friends and family, who are in the waiting room, know that both you and the baby are happy and healthy, and by the time he gets back, you’re both asleep. He takes a quick picture, then settles into a chair by your bed, his eyes fixed on the two of you. 

❀

“I can’t believe we have another Valentine’s Day baby in the family.” Nikki says as she holds your girl in her arms. 

“It’s a privilege that only the coolest people share.” Harry boasts, making all of you laugh.

“You know, I can’t argue with that.” You shrug your shoulders. 

“I’d argue that our baby is much cooler than you.” Tom points out. He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, holding your hand as his family gushes over Dodie. Your parents had been here early in the morning, and both of them were immediately smitten with the little girl.

“She’s a baby. You can’t possibly know that.” Harry crosses his arms.

“She’s our baby. Of course she’s the coolest.” You say, earning yourself a kiss on the top of your head from Tom.

“Fair enough.” Harry sighs, “She’s definitely the cutest.”

When everyone leaves, and it’s just the three of you again, you feel exhausted, but you can’t take your eyes off your daughter. 

“I always thought you were the most beautiful thing I’d ever see.” Tom says, “But she’s just… On a whole new level.” He smiles at you before taking Dodie’s tiny fist and giving it a kiss. Her small mouth opens in a yawn, then she’s pouting again. Her chubby cheeks are so soft you could kiss them all day long.

“Same.” The two of you smile at each other, and then Tom leans in to give you a soft kiss.

“I love you.” You whisper, he’s still so close that your lips touch his with every word, and you’re not certain he heard you until you can feel him smile before leaning in for another kiss.

“I love you, too, Y/N.” He says, his eyes sparkling. Dodie makes a noise as if noticing that this is quite an important moment, and both of you look at her in your arms. “Both of you,” Tom adds. “So much.” He gently runs his fingers over her head. 

You lean your head against his shoulder. 

“The next few months are going to be hard. But I wouldn’t change it for the world. Maybe all of this didn’t happen in the right order or at the perfect time. But it’s perfect the way it is.” 

“You’re not a little sad that you can’t live the careless life as a uni student anymore?” You’re mostly teasing, but there is still a little doubt in your mind. 

“Y/N.” Tom turns to look at you, his eyes boring into yours. “I’m serious. Yes, I may have been a bit careless in the past, and it was fun. But I don’t want that for the rest of my life. I don’t need to party every weekend or get stupid drunk all the time. I don’t even want to, really. You two are all I’ll ever need. We’re a family now, and I want to take care of you and Dodie. I wanna watch her grow up, teach her things. I want to show her how loved she is every single day. And I want to do all of that with you by my side.” 

He pauses for a moment, but you’re speechless. You have tears in your eyes again. 

The corners of his mouth quirk up into a smile, “That sounded an awful lot like a proposal.” He laughs. “But I think we should take it one step at a time. First, the baby, then, finishing uni and then maybe, if you want to, marriage.”

A laugh bursts out of you. “Because that’s the natural progression of things.” 

“Maybe it’s not the usual way things go. But it’s our way.” 

“And it’s perfect.” You repeat what he said earlier.

“It is.” He agrees. “Just like our baby girl.”  

besties tag: @spidermanlondon​ ☆ @duskholland​ ☆ @heyhihellowhatsup0​ ☆ @annathesillyfriend​ ☆ @hazofmyheart​ ☆ @emilykjh​ ☆ @alinastarkrovs​ ☆ @sinisterspidey​ ☆ @lovebittenbyevans​ ☆ @miraclesoflove​ ☆ @seasidetom​ ☆ @selfcarecap​ ☆ @missevrythingg​ ☆ @userholland​ ☆ @softholand​  ☆ @hotforharrison​ ☆ @osterfield-holland-andcompany​ ☆ @thecodyexpress​ ☆ 

all I’ll ever need: @tothemoonandbackx3000 // @belovedholland​ // @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah​ // @azaraspirit​// @ahoefortomholland​ // @enjoy-the-destruction​ // @hollandscherry​

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fluff #tom holland scenario #tom holland au #college au #uni au #tom holland pregnancy au #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x you #tom holland reader insert

[shellshocklove]

blurb: i want to forget | tom holland

pairing/AU: university AU - modern king!tom holland x female!reader

summary: it’s a nice day for a white royal wedding.

warnings: swearing, no smut but a make-out session and some groping so mdni!

word count: 2.3k

a/n: this was semi requested by @prettyjendeukie​. i hope you like this little blurb (it’s a little different)! <3 just like last time i wrote a blurb i don’t know if people are interested in blurbs for this series but here’s another one 🤲

series masterlist

“Your Majesty?”

It was John. With a sigh Tom spun his chair around. For just a second his royal office melded with the blurry feeling inside his head. His desk was a mess. His red box opened in front of him, governmental papers spilling out like guts.

“Yes?” Tom sighed again.

John stood awkwardly in front of his king’s desk, one hand hovered over the back of one of the chairs turned towards the big teak table, while he carried a black leather briefcase in the other. Leaning back in his chair, Tom gestured for John to sit.

“If it’s alright with you sir, I would like to go over the security for the wedding?” John said while placing the briefcase on his desk.

“Yeah, sure” Tom said indifferently. Something scratched at the back of his neck. Under him the leather of his chair squeaked as he shifted in his seat. With a quiet drum the locks on John’s briefcase burst open.

Pulling out blueprints and documents, lists and directories, John started talking, “As His Majesty knows we’re expecting somewhere between three thousand and thirty-five hundred guests. We got the Royal Military Police, Scotland Yard–“

Tom cut John off, “Cut to the chase, will you? I’m sure you’ve got everything under control John. Just hand me the papers­– I’m sure there’s something you want me to sign”.

Tom almost felt bad when he watched John’s face fall. If he’d asked anybody else, they’d probably say John’s face was as stony as a statue. But Tom, he knew John inside out. Getting to know every little micro expression in his hard face over the years.

Shifting through his briefcase John pulled out his papers to slide them across the polished teak. Every paper needing the king’s signature marked with a small yellow post-it. Grabbing his Parker pen, Tom got to signing. As he flicked through the papers, he felt John’s stare.

“Was there something else?” Tom asked, “I can feel you staring”.

His words made John shift in his seat before he cleared his throat, “I was just informed that Lady Genevieve is on her way to the palace and will be arriving in about an hour”.

Tom’s pen stopped for a beat at the sound of her name. This was the first he’d heard of this. He clenched his jaw in annoyance.

“I might’ve been told by a little bird, aka Lady Evelyn,” Tom rolled his eyes as he finished signing the last paper, Lady Evelyn was Gen’s mother, “that Lady Genevieve is planning to stay past dinner”.

Tom fell back in his chair again, toying with his pen as the springs rocked him back and forth.

Maybe he was the worst person in the world, Tom thought. Being with Lady Genevieve, his bride to be, made him feel awful. She was one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen, she was always kind and understanding, she was good with the people, always knew what to say and when to say it – she was arguably the perfect woman for him. But…

… she wasn’t you.

He hadn’t seen you in over a year. The last time being right after his grandmother passed and his whole life turned upside down. He still remembered that day so clearly. The feel of your body under his touch, how you’d held him so tenderly as he’d let all his worries pour out, the kiss. He could become a hundred years old and senile, and he’d never forget that last kiss. You’d made him feel like everything wrong in the world was suddenly right.

After he’d watched you leave that day, a hole had started to grow inside him. You’d left, and with you you’d taken the sun, and his hopes, and his heart.

“If she’s supposed to be arriving in an hour it’s too late to tell her to turn around” Tom sighed.

“You can’t avoid her forever, sir” John said, “Soon you’ll be husband and wife”.

Husband and wife. The thought made his skin crawl. He was way too young to get married– he wasn’t ready to be someone’s husband. Well… he wasn’t ready to be Lady Genevieve’s husband.

“Husband and wife” Tom tasted the words in his mouth. Then, with a lazy throw, Tom threw the Parker pen haphazardly. It made a sharp sound as it hit the teak before it rolled towards the middle of his desk.

“John?” Tom queried, “do you know, like maybe somewhere in the histories, if a king has been married and his wife hasn’t been queen? Like she’s just his wife, and they’re just together”.

John gave him a look only he could interpret. “I’m sorry, sir, I have not. To the best of my knowledge: when a king marries, his new wife always becomes Queen Consort. You’d have to abdicate…”.

Tom only hummed at John’s unspoken words. He’d have to abdicate to marry you.

“Listen,” John started, “I know it’s not my place–”.

“You’re right! It’s not your place” Tom cut him off, the words coming out stricter than he wanted.

Silenced, but not angry, John was never angry, he gave Tom a sad but knowing face. Tom’s mood told him to leave it be. To not infect his still opened wound. Instead, John gathered his papers, stacked them neatly into his briefcase and locked it with a satisfying click! Before he could get up from his chair his king asked him,

“Could you please make sure she gets an invitation? To make sure she’s there?”.

His king didn’t need to utter your name for John to know he was talking about you.

“Of course, Your Majesty!”.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was coming” Gen apologized, turning to the side facing Tom where he laid flat on his back against his silk sheets, “You’re not terribly mad, are you?”.

“No, Gen– it’s fine, I’m not mad”.

She’d arrived when John had told him she would, and she’d been escorted straight to his office first thing (per her command). Companioning her was their wedding planner and her ring binders thicker than A la recherche du temps perdu.

He wanted to be supportive. He wanted to be as excited as Lady Genevieve. But he just couldn’t. Every mention of the wedding made him feel like someone was tightening a buckle in his metaphorical straitjacket.

“Okay, great” she giggled and shuffled closer to his body, “I don’t think I could bear it if you were”.

“Me neither” he mumbled, lifting his arm for him to wrap around her body. With a satisfied hum she settled into him, her painted nails scraping seductive circles over his naked chest.

“I’ve missed you” he heard her confess before he felt a soft kiss to his shoulder.

One kiss became two, then three, before he stopped counting. They all climbed up his shoulder to his neck and jaw.

“I’ve missed you too” he heard himself say before Genevieve brushed her lips over his.

Against his better judgement he kissed her back. Her kisses were always a little rougher than yours. She pressed her lips too hard against his, and sometimes she’d nip at them in a way he didn’t enjoy. But a kiss was a kiss. And sometimes he needed to be kissed.

She stuck her tongue in his mouth when it started to get a little heated. Whines left her lips between the smacking of their lips. She got a little more eager, swinging her leg over his torso to hover over him, hands cupping his cheeks as she licked into his mouth.

He knew what she wanted even before she started rutting against him. His hands automatically came up to rest on her waist, following her movements above him.

“I’m so wet Tommy– please, need you to fuck me” she pleaded into his mouth between kisses.

Her hand travelled from his cheeks and down his body to slip between her legs. Dipping her finger under the elastic waistband of his boxers she cupped his cock. She pulled away from his lips with furrowed brows.

“You okay?” she asked, her hand running over his soft cock.

Squeezing his eyes together he let his hands fall from her waist, hitting the mattress with a bounce.

“I’m just tired” he excused, “I’ve had a long day”.

He grabbed her wrist to pull her hand off his cock before he’s shifting her off him. Bewildered, she looks at him.

“I’m sorry…” Tom doesn’t know why he’s apologizing.

“No…” she trailed off, grabbing the duvet to wrap around herself, “Don’t worry”.

She turned her back to him as she laid down, and Tom doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do. So, he doesn’t do anything. It’s not like he can tell his fiancé that he can’t have sex with her without thinking about somebody else to get hard. He doesn’t think that’s a good way to start a marriage.

“G’night” he uttered.

“G’night” she answered.

The St. Paul's Cathedral was filled to the brim, and Tom felt like his cup was about to spill. Walking towards the altar, with his brothers’ supportive steps behind him, he’d wondered if he was gonna pass out.

His uniform felt too tight. The church lights somehow too bright. The volume of the guest drowning out any and every thought in his head. Everything was just wrong.

He wasn’t just nervous – he was making a mistake. He’d known it from the day he’d first laid his eyes on you in that auditorium, and he knew it now. You’d done your stupidly cute curtsy and he’d fallen in love with you right then and there. It was his biggest regret, and also the best thing that had ever happened to him. It should be you in that beautiful white dress walking towards him. But it’s not, and he doesn’t know if he can bear it.

He’d searched for you in the crowd. Desperate to meet your eyes. To drown in the safety of them. To calm his heart in the familiarity of you. John had told him he’d personally delivered your invitation, practically begged you to be here for him.

He knew it was cruel of him. Tom was being cruel to you, the love of his life. How could he be so cruel, inviting you to watch him get married to another woman. He’d dug your doomed relationship a grave, and now invited you to bury it. He didn’t blame you if you didn’t come. He can’t even think about the fact that someday you’ll do the same to him – you’ll marry someone else.

He tore his eyes from the endless rows of guests, forcing himself to watch Lady Genevieve, soon to be Queen Genevieve, walk down the aisle. The walk felt endless, but he doesn’t dare look away, very aware of the cameras broadcasting this worldwide. He had to look happy, not like he’s about to shit his pants.

With a forced smile he watched as Lady Genevieve ascended the stairs to the altar. The train on her dress covered the whole staircase and her veil looked heavy, held in place by a diadem. She’s clutched her father’s hand, leaning on him for reassurance. Beside him, he felt Harry’s hand briefly on his shoulder to give it a squeeze.

“Dearly beloved,” the Dean of the Cathedral started, “we are gathered here in the sight of God and in the face of this congregation to join together this man and this woman in Holy Matrimony; which is an honourable estate, instituted of God himself signifying unto us the mystical union that is betwixt Christ and his Church into which holy estate these two persons present come now to be joined. Therefore, if any man can show any just cause why they may not lawfully be joined together, let him now speak, or else hereafter forever hold his peace...”.

The church is quiet.

A dream Tom’s had every night this week pushed forward from the back of his brain. It’s like déjà vu. In his dream he’s standing at the altar, just like he is now, the Dean of the Cathedral say those exact words, but in his dream the church isn’t quiet. In his dream he hears your voice. You tell him you love him, and that he can’t get married if it’s not to you, and his knees almost buckle. He can’t do anything other than run to you. To hug you tight. To kiss you silly.

But the church is quiet. He doesn’t hear your voice.

The Archbishop step forward, “I require and charge you both, as you will answer at the dreadful day of judgement when the secrets of all hearts shall be disclosed, that if either of you know any impediment, why you may not be lawfully joined together in Matrimony, you do now confess it”.

The words burn at the back of Tom’s throat. Now’s his chance. He’s the King for god’s sake. He’s supposed to be able to do whatever he wants. But he can’t. He’s imprisoned by his legacy, and by his duty.

Tom doesn’t say anything. He’s quiet and he’ll regret it for the rest of his life – Tom knows it in his bones.

The Archbishop continued, “Thomas Stanley of House Holland wilt thou have this woman to thy wedded wife, to live together according to God's law in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honour and keep her in sickness and in health and forsaking all other, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?”

A knife twists in his stomach as he says it, gouging the hole inside him,

“I will”.

With his back turned he misses the way you get up from your seat. Inconveniencing everyone on the church pew, you slip past them and flee the church. You’re clutching a handkerchief to your cheeks, drying what can be mistaken for happy tears.

previous: three years later | next: the reunion

tags (tagging the i want to forget taglist and a few other people that have shown interest after it was finished): @justapurrcat, @lnmp89, @petrspideyparker, @hollandweather, @userholland, @imawhoreforu, @onepieceya, @sparklingsin, @annathesillyfriend, @mayal0pez, @transparentpsychicempathkid, @fic-rewind, @peterparkerfilms, @the-unknown-fan-girl, @mannien, @moonlightdotmp3, @padlockedhearts, @moniffazictress11, @all4koo, @angelayse, @svechnibrock, @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx, @xxtomspideyxx, @i83andrew, @clockblobber, @fangirlinggalore, @luciwritesstuff, @spideysimpossiblegirl, @lol-just-kidding002, @allywthsr, @captainsbestgal, @readheadwriter, @parkersdahlia, @cosmicryuz​, @tomxxxhollandxxx, @the-not-so-silent-back-up​, @rebloggingtheficsilove, @peterdarlingg​, @obsessedprincess​,

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #prince!tom holland #uni au #college au #royal au #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fic #tom holland angst #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland blurb #peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker smut #peter parker x reader

[pbnjparker]

hey angi so how about a fluff piece where the reader and Tom used to be close friends in college but drifted apart. now the reader is an artist and tom's rich (&famous if you want) and the reader's hosting a gallery event to showcase their art and Tom is in the city so he stops by and one of the paintings is of a core memory they share or something and they confess they used to like each other??? or something like that xx sorry if this long lmao <3

an: ash my love <3 tysm for requesting this and i really hope u enjoy it :,)

pairing: tom holland x fem!reader

Tom walked around the gallery slowly; holding the gallery pamphlet in hand. Admiring every piece of artwork before him and mentally praising every artist as he walked by.

"In just a few moments, artist Y/N L/N's exhibit will be opened to public. Miss L/N will be in the room if you have any questions regarding her work."

Looking around for the entrance of the gallery, Tom walked over and stood in front of the velvet red rope that separated him and the room.

"Well, well, well." The voice said bringing Tom out of his thoughts, "Never thought I'd see you again, Spiderman." You said crossing your arms over your chest, "Hi Y/N, nice seeing you too." Tom said extending his hand out, "I think we're past handshakes don't you think?" You said wrapping your arm over his lower torso, "It's really great to see you again."

You smiled at Tom, "Here. Come in; I'll give you your own little private showing before everyone else comes in."

Tom cleared his throat, "I still remember being in college and sitting in your dorm for hours while you painted away. It's kind of a full circle moment to see you have your art work up in a gallery." He said as he admired the portraits that adorned the room.

You laughed, "Serious Y/N, these are beautiful." He said as he stood in front of one of your paintings, "Why does this one seem so familiar?" He asked as he look back at you, "I-Uh, It's inspired by us actually."

"What do you mean?" He asked looking back at the painting, "So, while we were in college; I had a small crush on you." You sighed, "This painting is us meeting for the first time." You said, "You had a crush on me?" He asked.

You felt your cheeks burn, "Yeah." You said softly, "I thought it was a silly crush but I always found myself liking you."

"I did too actually," He said turning to face you, "A long four years then we went our separate ways."

You hummed, "Do you think it's to late to try?" You asked smiling at Tom, "Hi, My name is Tom Holland." He smiled, "I'm Y/N L/N, nice to meet you Tom Holland."

#pbnjparker #tshwritersnet #queue never looked so good <3 #tom holland prompts #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland au #tom holland #tom holland imagines #tom holland x artist!reader #tom holland x fem #tom holland x fem!reader #tom holland x you #tom holland alt uni #au tom holland

[junetuesday]

sweetener - [sixteen]

Trial and Error

Pairing: Tom Holland x Female Reader - uni AU

Word Count:  ~7K

Warnings: smut, smut gone kinda wrong, alcohol/hangover mentions

A/N: some of the ~positions in this chapter kind of imply that the reader is of a similar height to tom so sorry if that bothers you! other than that pls enjoy as we all try to recover from that instagram story, hope everyone is staying safe and staying home as much as they’re able to ❣

Updates: dunno sorry i thought i had a schedule there for a minute but i lost it

Tom was very tired. So very, very tired.

Perhaps it had been a bad idea to go out last night, seeing as he was already knackered from work and lectures and training, but he and Harrison had gotten home from training and Adam said ‘we out tonight?’ and what was he supposed to say? No? To £1.50 pints? Of course not. So, now, here he was on Tuesday afternoon, not even that hungover but just tired, trying not to fall asleep in a lecture.

Apart from the fact that he’d nearly whacked his chin on the desk three times in the last ten minutes, though, his head drooping as he nodded off, he was pretty happy. He’d had a whole weekend with just you, which was nice, no interruptions or awkward interactions with housemates on the stairs, and you were now Officially Together, which was even nicer. He’d been a bit surprised when you’d brought it up on Friday night - but not in a bad way, he just hadn’t really thought about it. He wondered afterwards what he would have said if someone had asked him if you were his girlfriend, like Ruby had asked you. Yes? Probably? Maybe? No one had asked so it had never really occurred to him to put a label on your relationship, but when he thought about after he decided that if pressed he probably would have said yes.

In any case that was all cleared up now, “Facebook Official” and everything - he’d even told his mum. Well, that might be stretching the truth a little - he’d been on FaceTime to her on Sunday night and his brother Harry had come into the room and said ‘hey Tom how’s your girlfriend?’. It had been kind of hard to gauge his tone because he was shoving crisps into his mouth as he spoke, but it sounded snarky and Tom was fairly sure he had no interesting in actually hearing how you were and just wanted to tease him for having a girlfriend while simultaneously dropping him in it with their mum. Tom’s suspicions were confirmed when she looked directly into the camera with a high pitched ‘what? Who!’ and Harry promptly left the room, leaving Tom to murmur ‘um, well, uh…’ while he tried to think how best to explain your relationship. It wasn’t that he’d been actively hiding you from his family, he’d mentioned you in passing a few times to his brothers,but it just hadn’t really come up. Maybe he should have mentioned it before putting it on Facebook, but what was he supposed to do, just message the family chat like hey btw i have a girlfriend now? In the end he just said you were a friend of his housemate’s and that you’d met a couple of months ago, electing to skip over the part about how he already knew of you from work beforehand because that was quite embarrassing and not really something he wanted to share with his mother, and then he changed the subject and asked to see Tessa before making an excuse to hang up.

Familial video calls aside though, he’d had a nice weekend, and though it was only Tuesday he was already looking forward to the next one. Not just because he was tired and wanted a lie in, but this Friday was Valentine’s Day. He’d never really been bothered about it so he hadn’t even realised it was coming up, but once he did Tom wondered if your “talk” would have happened this week anyway, regardless of the Liv/Harrison situation, and not even because of the actual holiday itself, but because of the night out. Valentine’s Day at the SU had a traffic light system - wear red if you’re taken, green if you’re single, and yellow if...well, Tom wasn’t really sure what yellow was for. Maybe? Proceed with caution? Anyway, you probably would have ended up having the conversation about your relationship status before the party, because it would have been extremely awkward if you’d turned up in different colours. Now, however, you both knew you’d both be wearing red, so that was good to know - that is, if you ended up going out. You hadn’t talked about your plans yet, whether you’d go out like on a proper date, or stay in, or go out with everyone else. Tom didn’t really mind what you did, as long as he got to see you at some point, so he figured he’d speak to you about it later and see what you wanted to do.

For now though, he really needed to concentrate on this lecture. He was trying, he really was, only it was really quite boring and his eyelids were really heavy suddenly, and the lecturer’s voice sounded really far away…

aaaCHOO!

Tom’s head snapped up at the sound of the person next to him sneezing, his body jerking as he was startled back into consciousness. This was hopeless, there was no way he was going to be able to stay awake for the rest of the lecture if he didn’t do something to distract himself. The lecture content itself was clearly not interesting enough to keep him alert and awake, so he decided to see what you were up to instead, and you replied after a minute or two.

nm just back from lectures, watching a movie with liv and mads x

Oh cool what movie x

Even without knowing what movie you were watching, Tom was certain that he’d much prefer to be on your sofa watching TV, instead of sitting in this uncomfortable chair in a cold lecture hall. That was basically all you’d done all weekend, though obviously without your housemates - which was for the best, because it would have been really awkward if they’d been sitting there when the episode of Friends where they get a free adult TV channel came on and you’d asked him if he watched porn and he’d nearly choked on his tea. He’d just said ‘sometimes’ and then asked if you did before taking a big sip of his tea to try and look nonchalant (which was a mistake because it was still too hot but he wasn’t going to choke again on the same drink so he just let it burn his mouth and throat and nodded casually when you also said ‘sometimes’).

Bend it like Beckham lmao x

Arent you in a lecture rn x

Ahh a classic. Yeh i am but

Tom paused, considering how to finish that sentence. But now I’ve just remembered you talking to me about porn and it’s distracting ?? Hmm, no, probably not like that.

its really boring and im tired so i keep falling asleep 😴x

Okay, better, now stop thinking about it. He wasn’t even really sure what “it” was, just the general idea of you and porn, and porn-related activities, and things he shouldn’t be thinking about in a lecture.

Early night for you tonight x

Oh dear. That didn’t help, because now he was thinking that you were right, he probably would be in bed quite early - but would he be sleeping? Probably not, and he did not need to be thinking about what he’d be doing instead right now.

Tom checked the clock on the wall, pretending to be reading the lecture slides on the screen below it. Only twenty minutes left…

Want me to pick you up on the way home and we can go straight to bed? x

He debated putting a 😏 on the end, or maybe even a 😉, but ultimately decided against it before hitting send. You were supposed to be coming over to his later that evening anyway, but now he couldn’t really think of a reason to wait any longer than was absolutely necessary. Plus this way maybe you would actually get an early night, which wouldn’t be a bad idea considering he had to play rugby the next day.

Sounds like a plan. When do you finish x

20 mins x

He hoped you were on the same wavelength and understood that he didn’t actually plan to go to sleep at 4:30 in the afternoon (though he could use a nap, but he could do that after). He’d find out in half an hour or so, he supposed, he just had to stay awake until then.

It turned out to be a lot easier to stay awake once he had something else to think about besides what his lecturer was talking about, so soon enough Tom was texting you to say he was on his way, and then again to say he was parked on your street. He debated going to the door, but he decided that it was probably best if he didn’t just in case Liv saw him and wanted to hurt him just for being friends with Harrison.

“Hey!”

Your voice as you opened the passenger side door made Tom look up from his phone, slightly startled as he was waiting for you to text back and wasn’t expecting you to just appear out of nowhere.

“Oh- hey,” he reached over to grab his bag from the passenger seat so you could get in, tossing it into the backseat as you shoved your own bag into the footwell.

You smiled once he turned back to face you, reaching across the car to touch his cheek as he leaned over to give you a kiss hello.

“You look nice,” Tom said when you pulled back, settling back into your seat and putting on your seatbelt.

“Oh,” you looked down at your outfit, then over at Tom. “Thanks.”

It wasn’t a particularly exciting outfit, just jeans and a slouchy knitted jumper, but it was cute - or maybe that was just you, it was hard to tell. In any case it was time for Tom to stop admiring you and start driving, the drive between your houses passing quickly as you talked about your day so far.

“Oh crap,” Tom muttered under his breath as you walked up to the front door. His curtains were still closed, and he remembered then that his room was a complete mess.

You weren’t meant to be coming over until later on, so when he’d woken up late he’d just jumped in the shower in the hopes it would relieve his hangover, shoved on the cleanest clothes he could find, and ran out the door. So, instead of stepping back to let you in once he unlocked the front door, he went in ahead of you and went straight to his room to assess the damage. Besides the closed curtains, unmade bed, and wardrobe doors flung open, his open gym bag and workout clothes were on the floor, the towel he’d used after his speedy shower before heading out on top of them. In his semi-conscious state this morning he hadn’t been able to find said towel, so the one he’d used this morning was draped over the back of his desk chair. He was wearing the jeans he’d worn out last night, so at least they weren’t on the floor, but the shirt he’d worn was, as well as the pyjama bottoms he’d slept in, complete with boxers inside them, sitting very visibly right in the middle of the room. A couple of cider cans and the tub from the Pot Noodle he’d had for dinner littered his desk, and the bag he’d brought to yours on the weekend was open at the end of his bed, its contents spilling onto the floor. Fantastic.

“Sorry,” he mumbled as he quickly gathered all his clothes up into a pile and shoved them into the wardrobe. “D’you want a drink or anything?”

“Nah, I’m good,” you shook your head as you took off your jacket, setting it and your bag down by the door as it swung shut behind you.

“Okay, uh…” Tom trailed off, trying to fit his bags into the wardrobe and get the doors closed before everything started tumbling out. “Wanna put something on TV?”

“Umm… I dunno, is anyone home?”

“I don’t think so?”

Operation Wardrobe was mostly successful, in that the doors didn’t completely shut but nothing was falling out, so Tom considered that a win and moved on to straightening his duvet.

“Eh,” you laughed with a shrug. “Why bother then, we’re not going to watch it are we?”

“...yeah, fair enough.”

Deciding that his bed would do as it was and the curtains should probably remain closed, Tom moved towards you, his hands finding your waist as you pulled him closer by the collar of his jacket until your lips connected in a hurried kiss.

Guess you were on the same wavelength.

“I thought you were tired,” you smirked against his lips as he guided you across the room until your back was against the wall, his body pressed to yours.

“Well,” he sighed as he wiggled out of his jacket, your hands pushing it off his shoulders and down his arms. “I was, but I’ll persevere.”

Tom reached for the hem of your jumper as your lips reconnected, his fingers brushing over your waist as he pushed it up.

“Oh right, okay,” you giggled when you separated again for him to pull your jumper off over your head. “Well done, must be hard for you.”

Well, something was hard, if not the act of staying awake. What was vexing him at present, though, was how many layers you were wearing. Your coat and jumper were gone, but you still had a vest top on, tucked into your jeans - and was that a belt? A belt?! You had boots on too, plus whatever underwear you had on - what a nightmare - well not a nightmare, obviously your underwear wasn’t a nightmare, but--

Tom’s thoughts were cut off by you grabbing his face and kissing him again, and that was enough to get him to just get on with it. Your hands shifted from his cheeks to his shoulders and down his chest as he pulled your vest free. His tongue eagerly exploring your mouth, he kissed you more firmly before he stepped away to pull his hoodie and t-shirt off over his head. You followed suit, taking your vest off and dropping it on top of your jumper, then bending down to take off your boots while Tom kicked off his trainers.

His hands on your waist guided you towards the bed once you straightened up, one darting out to stop himself falling on top of you as you landed on your back on top of his crumpled sheets. Kissing as you went, you shuffled up to the top of the bed, you on your back and Tom beside you, leaning over you. Your legs tangled together, your fingers brushed through the back of his hair as he kissed down your neck and onto your chest, his lips following the line of your bra strap. Things started getting more complicated when he passed your collarbones though, and he realised that this was not your standard bra.

A pretty teal colour, your bra had complicated looking straps going across the tops of your breasts, just above the cups. The band was deeper than normal too, a sort of mesh lace covering your ribs almost down to your waist. After briefly pausing to consider whether to follow the cup or the strap (he chose the strap) Tom continued his line of kisses onto the centre of your chest, sucking and nipping at the skin in between your breasts. Your chest rose under him as you took a deep breath in, letting it out in a contented sigh as he lifted his head to look at you.

“This is fancy,” he ran his fingers over the thin strap decorating the top of your breast. “Did you wear this to uni?”

“No,” you shook your head, your chest moving under his hand as you laughed. “Bit much for a lecture, I think.”

You watched his hand as his fingertip trailed down between your breasts and along the underwire as he chuckled.

“Yeah, maybe.”

If you didn’t wear it when you went out, did that mean you changed into it just for him?

“What do you think, though?”

“Hmm?” Tom hummed, looking up to see you gesturing to your chest.

Were you actually asking what he thought of your bra? Or maybe just your boobs in general? It was more likely that you meant the bra, but either way the answer was the same.

“Oh, yeah, uh,” his eyes returned to your bra, like he even had to think about his reply. “Very nice.”

“Thanks… you know you’ve seen this bra before, actually.”

“Oh?”

Tom felt like he should probably look at your face instead of your chest while you were talking, but then you were talking about your bra, so many it was okay if he kind of went back and forth between them.

“Yeah, you know that Snapchat I sent you?”

“Ohh right, yeah.” Now he thought about it, it was actually kind of familiar, though if he was honest he had been more focused on the fact that you had sent him a picture of yourself in your bra than on what the bra itself looked like. “Thanks for that, by the way.”

“You’re welcome,” you laughed again, a cute little laugh that didn’t really match up with the way your hand on the back of his neck pulled him into a kiss.

Tom shifted more on top of you as the kiss deepened, your hand slipping into the back pocket of his jeans to keep his body close to yours as you sucked on his bottom lip. Your other hand was still playing with his hair, your fingers twisting in the curls as he moved to kiss your neck.

“You know it’s funny actually,” you tilted your head to the side as you spoke, a gentle smile in your voice. “I didn’t mean to send that to you.”

…

…….

You what?

“Hmm?” he said instead, his face still buried in your neck but his eyes wide open.

“Yeah.”

That’s not helpful, who was it meant for?

Tom pulled back slightly, shifting to the side and resting his weight on one arm while he waited for you to expand.

“I was sending it to the girls and I just clicked on you too by accident.”

“Oh right… okay.”

He wasn’t really sure why you were telling him this now, or at all really, but if that’s all you meant then that was okay, right? It wasn’t like you meant to send it to another guy. Besides, that was ages ago, things were very different now. Like, if he’d found that out a few weeks ago he probably would have been a bit more freaked out because he had taken that snap as a sign that you were into him, so finding out that it hadn’t been meant for him at all would have kind of shattered that idea. As it was though, he had more than enough evidence now that you were into him, so it didn’t really matter too much now.

“Did you not think the caption was a bit weird?” you spoke again, taking him out of his thoughts and back to the present. “Like, why would I tell you I got this in the sale?”

“Oh, uh,” This is embarrassing - though not more embarrassing than sending a semi-nude to the wrong person. “To be honest, I didn’t read the caption.”

“You know what, that’s fair enough,” you laughed. “I’m glad I sent it anyway.”

“Me too.” Wait that sounds weird- “I mean not just because, like, obviously it’s always nice to see boobs-”

“Well yeah-”

“But it kinda like, you know-”

“-got things going?”

“...yeah,” Tom nodded, a smile growing across his face because yeah, that’s exactly what it did.

You were smiling too, and then before he knew it you were kissing again, his body shifting over yours. He kissed down your chest again, moving down the bed as he went, planning to take off your jeans - and his own, because they were feeling uncomfortably tight right now.

“Oh yeah, I was gonna say-”

Fighting the urge to sigh, Tom just looked up at you from where he was kissing the soft skin just below the band of your bra.

“-you know the other day when you said you wanted to try like, spanking or whatever-”

“Oh, I, uh-”

“- I was just wondering if there, you know, wasanythingelseyouwantedtotry?”

You’d said the last part in one quick go, the words running into each other, leaving Tom blinking up at you as he played them through in his head at half speed. Once he’d worked out what you’d said though, he still didn’t know what to say, because he definitely had not expected you to say that.

“Erm… uh… I don’t know…”

“Oh. Okay, never mind-” your voice went quieter, your face turning slightly as you looked away.

“No, like, it’s just - I can’t think of anything right now, but I’m sure - can I come back to you on that?”

Your eyes met his again, and your face relaxed into a small smile as you nodded.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Cool.”

He waited a moment to see if you had anything else you wanted to say, but you just ran your fingers through his hair and said nothing, so he took that to mean he could continue. He pressed a few more kisses to your stomach before unbuckling your belt, undoing your jeans and pulling them down your legs once you lifted your hips to help him get them off. He swallowed as he tossed your jeans onto the floor, not taking his eyes off your underwear - a thong that matched your bra, barely covering any of you. That settled it, you definitely changed into different lingerie just for him - and that knowledge made it even hotter. Like, you looked amazing regardless, but knowing that it was for him? On purpose? You purposefully dressed like that for him? Yeah, that made it ten times better.

“C’mere,” he murmured, leaning down to wrap his arms around you and rolling you both over so you were on top of him.

You ground down onto him as you kissed, his hands squeezing your ass as you arched your back, rubbing yourself along his length through his jeans. He grunted as your lips left his, instead scattering kisses down his neck and chest as you moved down his body. Soon you were kneeling on the bed between his legs, sucking small purple marks onto the pale skin just above the waistband of his boxers. He was so focused on that that he didn’t even notice you undoing his jeans, until you were pulling them and his boxers down, his hard cock springing free and falling heavily against his stomach.

Tom watched as you licked along his length, sucking him into your mouth when you reached the top. He groaned when you bobbed your head, your cheeks hollowing around him. Your fingers curled around the base of his cock, following behind your lips as they slid up and down his length. You swirled your tongue around the tip as you came off him for a moment to breathe, your hand continuing to move up and down smoothly. After a moment you dipped your head again, taking him back into your mouth a little at a time. Your mouth felt so good around him, so warm and wet, and Tom was just thinking that he’d quite like to reach between your legs and feel something else warm and wet except he couldn’t really reach just now, when it occurred to him that maybe he did have an answer for you.

“Hey…” he muttered, not sure how to begin.

“Hmm?”

Tom closed his eyes for a second, his jaw tensing when you hummed around him. “I thought of something.”

You lifted your head, your hand still moving as your mouth left his cock. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, um,” What’s the best way to say this? Just say it, I suppose. “I dunno, you could like… sit on my face.”

“Hm…” you tilted your head thoughtfully. “What, while I…”

You trailed off, nodding towards your hand around his dick.

“Yeah… if you want.”

You hummed again, your hand still pumping slowly while you mulled it over. After a moment though, you stopped and nodded, sitting back on your heels.

“Yeah, okay.”

You moved aside while Tom took his jeans off, but when he lay back down you stayed kneeling beside him on the bed. He said your name questioningly, looking at you uncertainly.

“...you okay?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, but didn’t move. “I dunno, it’s just like - it’s very exposing, isn’t it…”

He didn’t really know what to say to that - he’d gone down on you loads of times, so he didn’t really see what the difference was, but there obviously was a difference to you.

“Oh, well,” he sat up a bit, propping himself up on his elbows. “I mean you don’t have to-”

“No, it’s not that,” you cut him off, shaking your head. “It’s just… like I want to but…”

Tom stayed quiet, just watching you have this debate with yourself because it didn’t really seem like it actually had very much to do with him at all.

“D’you mind if I leave my pants on? Like, obviously you can move them to, you know, get at stuff, but like, I dunno-” you sighed, sounding exasperated with yourself. “I know that doesn’t really make sense, I just feel like it would make it easier for me to put my butt in your face.”

He couldn’t help but snort at that - not so much at the idea but just the way you phrased it. You laughed too, only a little more nervously.

“Yeah, ‘course,” he nodded, trying to make his expression more serious. “Whatever makes you comfortable.”

You nodded back, slowly at first but then more decisively.

“Yeah… yeah, okay. Sorry, I’m being weird.”

“Nah you’re fine, don’t worry.”

Tom sat up more, touching your cheek gently as he kissed you. Your lips moved tentatively with his at first, but it didn’t take long before you got back into it. Your fingers wound their way into his hair as he gripped your waist, your body shifting to climb back on top of him.

“Oh right, yeah,” you stopped suddenly, shaking your head with a chuckle. “Other way.”

Both of you laughed as you shuffled on the bed, turning around and swinging your leg over his chest. Tom held your hips as you moved back, until you were right in front of his face. He couldn’t see what you were doing, obviously, but he could feel your body over his as you leaned down, wrapping your hand around his length again. He had a brief moment of panic when he realised that when he pulled your thong aside everything was going to be upside down compared to what he was used to, but then he felt your mouth envelope his cock and he figured he’d just work it out as he went along.

Kneading your ass cheeks firmly as he spread them apart, Tom pressed a few teasing kisses to the wet patch in the centre of your underwear. Your body twitched slightly at the contact, but you didn’t stop what you were doing, so he assumed that meant he was good to continue. With one hand he pulled your thong to the side to expose your pussy, wet and spread open right in front of his face. He wrapped his arms around your body and pulled you that last bit closer, onto the flat of his tongue as he ran it through your folds. Your body still felt a bit tense, but you moaned around him when he traced circles around your clit with his tongue, so that was a good sign, right?

You both carried on like that for a little while, him eating you out while you sucked him off. Sometimes Tom found it kind of hard to concentrate on what he was doing because of what you were doing, but other times you stopped and his cock was just sort of sitting there in your hand while you moaned and pushed back onto his tongue, so he figured the same thing was happening to you so it was alright. Your thong kept trying to move back between your legs though, and he was trying his best to keep it out of the way with his face but eventually he had to pull one hand away from its very important task of squeezing your bum to move it properly.

Holding your underwear aside, he went back to massaging your clit with his tongue. Your mouth tightened around the tip of his cock as you whimpered before you lifted your head, your hand still working his length as you came off him with a wet pop. Tom grunted against your pussy as you started to grind against his face, his fingers digging into your bum as he guided your movements. He could feel the tension in your body building, your thighs tensing -- until your grip on his cock loosened, your hip movements faltered, and you pulled away from him.

“Ugh, sorry,” you groaned, climbing off him when he let his arms fall away from your body and onto the bed.

“What, what’s wrong?”

“I dunno,” you whined as you turned around, crawling back on top of him and straddling his hips. “I just feel like… like I can’t concentrate? I don’t know, I think I just prefer doing one at a time, there’s too much going on.”

“Okay,” Tom just nodded; there wasn’t really much else to say to that.

“Sorry…”

“No, don’t-” he switched quickly to shaking his head. “I know what you mean and like, if you’re not into it then what’s the point, you know?”

“Okay,” You nodded as he shrugged, but your expression remained uncertain. “Still… sorry.”

“Seriously, it’s fine - now we know.”

“Now we know,” you giggled as Tom reached for your hands where they rested on his chest, tugging on them to bring you close enough for him to kiss you.

His hands caressed your body as his tongue roamed your mouth, reaching around to undo your bra - or at least, that was his plan. When he got there, however, he felt way more clasps under his fingertips than he was expecting. He tried his best to keep kissing you as he worked his way through them, but after he’d undone three and it didn’t seem like it was any closer to coming off he had to stop, muttering a frustrated sorry against your cheek.

“Oh, right,” you pushed yourself up, reaching behind you to undo the last couple of clasps. “Yeah, it’s got like five things, sorry.”

All Tom could think was why though? Why make it so complicated? But he didn’t say that, instead he said:

“No worries. What about you?”

You were just leaning down over him again, presumably about to resume kissing him when he said it, and he instantly regretted it when you stopped and tilted your head in confusion.

“What?”

His only explanation was that your habit of starting full on conversations during sex must be rubbing off on him - why else would he interrupt you when you were on top of him with only soaked thong between you? Why didn’t he just let you carry on? It was too late now though, he’d just have to continue and hope it paid off.

“Is, uh, is there anything you wanna try?”

“Oh,” you straightened up again, sitting up straight in his lap. “Hmm.”

Tom watched you thinking, nibbling on your bottom lip contemplatively, and he was beginning to wish he’d just waited to ask you another time before you spoke.

“I’ve never done it standing up, that could be fun…”

Then he really wished he hadn’t said anything, because frankly he was way too tired for that, but you had tried his thing, so it only seemed fair that he try yours.

“Okay.”

“...okay?” you repeated, looking at him questioningly.

“Okay,” he nodded. “Wanna try?”

You seemed to consider for a moment, before shrugging with a casual ‘sure’. You crawled off him and you both got to your feet, your knickers soon finding a home on the bedroom floor.

“So like, how do we… do this?”

“Um, right,” Tom thought for a second, before placing his hands on your hips and guiding you so your back was against the wall, your arms instinctively looping around his neck. “And then I guess if you like,” - he moved one hand down to your thigh - “lift your leg?”

You did as instructed, his hand holding the back of your thigh firmly as you hitched your right leg up to his left hip.

“Erm…right...” he looked back and forth between your face and his dick, now sort of pressed between your abdomens, as you bit your lip to try and stifle the giggle that was threatening to burst out of your mouth.

Hmm.

Tom bent his knees slightly, using his free hand to try and position his cock at your entrance. You lifted up onto your tiptoes, using your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself, and that did help a bit. He was able to push inside you, but beyond that he didn’t really know how to go about this. The way your bodies fit together meant that he couldn’t really thrust into you properly - he tried, but it just didn’t really work, and you were still on your tiptoes which didn’t seem sustainable, especially because you were standing on one leg and only staying upright because you were pinned between him and the wall.

“Um-”

“Hmm…”

“This isn’t working, is it?”

Looking between your bodies, your leg wrapped him and your breasts pressed to his chest, he really, really wanted to say it was working, but the truth was it just wasn’t. “Maybe if I lift you up?”

“Pardon?” you laughed, a bewildered expression on your face.

“Like,” Tom squeezed your thigh where it rested on his hip. “Do that but with your other leg.”

You just stared at him for a moment, blinking once, twice, three times before you spoke.

“No.”

“Why not?” He couldn’t help but laugh at your flat tone, the confused smile still frozen on your face.

“Because you’ll drop me.”

Tom opened his mouth to say no, he wouldn’t drop you, but in all honesty he couldn’t say that with 100% certainty. He wouldn’t mean to, obviously, but he was tired, and what if he did drop you? Surely that would be worse than… whatever this was.

“...fine,” he said instead, helping you bring your foot back to the ground before he stepped back, cock slipping out of you in the process.

“What if I bend over the bed?”

“... yeah, that could work.”

And lo, it did work. With you bent over the edge of the bed and him behind you, Tom gripped your hips as he thrust in and out of you steadily. Your hands grabbed fistfuls of the sheets, pushing back to meet his thrusts, and it wasn’t long before he could feel himself getting close, the tension inside him built up after so long spent with your mouth around him and your pussy in his face. His fingers trailed across your hip as he reached around to touch your clit, a grunt passing his lips as he felt your walls twitch and clench around him as you straightened up to give him better access.

“Fuck-”

You turned your head to kiss him, all breathless moans and probing tongues into each other's mouths. Your body twisted as you leaned into the kiss, making Tom’s cock slip out as he moved to thrust into you again.

“Fuck,” he groaned again, more out of frustration than pleasure this time. He went to reposition himself at your entrance, but stopped when you breathed his name.

“Hang on…d’you wanna just...do it normally?”

He sighed, closing his eyes for a moment before he nodded.

“Yeah, okay, sure. Sorry.”

You straightened up and turned around properly, your arms wrapping around his neck. “S’okay-”

“I’m just tired and-”

“Seriously, it’s fine-”

“- I’m a bit hungover and-”

“Tom.”

The way you said his name finally made him shut up, assertive but still quiet, gentle.

“You’re fine, it’s fine. That last one was good, I’m just being awkward because I want to kiss you.”

“Oh.”

That was all he had time to say before you kissed him, as if to demonstrate your point - and honestly, you made a really solid argument. So much so that the two of you fell back onto the bed, barely breaking apart as you lay down and he pushed back inside you, your legs spread wide beneath him. Plus, it was nice to be lying down and back in his comfort zone, kissing your neck as he thrust into you, your fingers tugging at his hair, your legs wrapping tightly around his waist--

“Wait wait, stop-”

You both froze as someone came into the house, slamming the front door closed behind them.

For fuck’s sake are you fucking joking?!

Tom kept his face buried in your neck, but he could feel you holding your breath until you heard either Adam or Harrison (he was trying not to think too much about whoever it was) going straight up the stairs. He felt you exhale once an upstairs door banged shut, your hips bucking up as you sighed.

“Okay, carry on.”

He did as he was told and began to move again, thrusting into you. Your moans were quieter now, more restrained, which was a shame, but he’d take what he could get. You bit your lip as he shifted, his arms bracketing your head as he quickly built up speed until he was pounding into you. One hand still tangled in his hair, you slipped the other between your bodies to rub hurriedly at your clit.

“Oh fuck, please,” you whimpered, looking up at him slack jawed and glassy eyed.

“M’gonna - fuck - gonna come,” Tom grunted, feeling your walls clenching and squeezing his cock as he thrust into you as deeply as he possibly could.

Your fingers in his hair tightened, urging him to dip his head to kiss you. You moaned into his mouth as he obliged, your body jerking under his as you came. He kept thrusting into you as he came moments later, his own moans mixing with yours in a hurried, passionate kiss, your hips rutting together as you both rode out your highs. The kiss grew softer as the rhythm of your hips began to slow, until your tongues were lazily dancing together as you ground together slowly.

“Yeah,” you chuckled breathlessly when you finally pulled apart. “We should have just done that to begin with.”

Tom just laughed in reply, scattering kisses across your cheek and down your neck onto your shoulder as he caught his breath. His body was feeling very heavy now, every ounce of tiredness he’d felt earlier coming rushing back after that burst of energy and hormones, and suddenly all he wanted to do was sleep.

“...you’re kinda squishing me a bit, Tom.”

“Hmm?” he hummed, his face nuzzled against your cheek until he replayed your words in his head and understood what you were saying. “Oh! Sorry-”

You unwrapped your legs from around his waist so he could roll off you, before crawling out from underneath him and searching for your underwear on the floor. Tom watched from his spot on the bed as you rummaged through your bag, pulling out a clean pair of knickers and the pyjamas that he’d lent you over the weekend. He just nodded sleepily as you said something about going to the bathroom, taking his dressing gown off the back of the door and tying it around your body before you left the room.

He didn’t think he’d fallen asleep, but it only seemed like a moment later when the door swung open and you came back in, and surely you hadn’t been that quick?

“Someone in there,” you explained when he looked at you in surprise - so maybe he hadn’t fallen asleep, you actually had just come straight back.

Tom nodded again, but this time he sat up, blinking furiously in an attempt to get his eyes to stay open. He couldn’t exactly go to sleep right that second, he was too naked and sticky, so while you hovered by the door waiting for the bathroom to be free he set about cleaning himself up and finding some clean underwear. It was only another minute or two before you both heard the bathroom door open, footsteps going across the landing, and then another door closing.

“Right, be right back.”

By the time you came back for good, Tom had changed into a fresh pair of pyjamas, put something on the TV, and shook out his duvet, and was lying under it all warm and cosy and trying to stay awake at least until you got into bed too.

“Are you actually going to sleep?” you asked as you slipped in under the covers beside him.

“Not like, properly,” he mumbled, turning onto his side holding his arms out for you to wiggle into. “M’just, m’gonna nap… jus’ for a minute…”

He was sure you didn’t believe that - he didn’t believe it either - he’d probably wake up in three hours not knowing who he was or what day it was. He didn’t get to hear whether you had anything to say about it though, because he fell asleep almost immediately, his breathing turning deep and even in your ear in seconds.

⋘ FIFTEEN | SEVENTEEN ⋙

TAGLISTS:

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      // CAN’T TAG:  @moons-skeletons @cptnrogersss @emmaeb2014 @loiscastle @bumba-bitch @lianimal89 @steadyholland @lottabirkin @lovcyou3000  @myimagineoutlet  @tinycollectivetrash @muffinmari25   @deathofthethrones  @shaharloni1  @halowings1123  @gracemrm  @mellow-delight  @i-fellinahole

#tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfic #tom holland imagine #tom holland blurb #tom holland headcanon #tom holland smut #tom holland fluff #tom holland uni au #tom holland series #student! tom holland

[loverholland]

i'm a big girl now intro

⋆｡˚┊synopsis: after 4 years of understudying, working as crew and stage managing, you're finally playing the lead in this summers musical hairspray! but when casted with the one person you hate, will everything go smoothly or will the show go as well as everything else?

↳ social media au, college au, theater au, actress!reader, dancer!tom, enemies to lovers

authors note: introduction to the characters!! part one will be up next wednesday @ 5pm! part 2 will be up the next wednesday, with a choice (ooh)!! lmk if you'd like to be tagged or if you just wanna talk about it

master list | previous | part i

↳tag list: @jazzy22600, @katiaw2, @hollandprkr, @arvinrussellsgirlfriend, @sinisterspidey and @wierdstark

#mine #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland one shot #tom holland smau #tom holland social media au #dancer!tom holland #actor!tom holland #uni student!tom holland #harrison osterfield x oc #harrison osterfield imagine #harry holland imagine #zendaya imagine #tom holland smut #tom holland angst #tom holland fluff

[mcuparkergirlfics]

New Tom Holland Head Canon!

I have another idea here that I’m curious if you’ll read! It’s a Tom!College AU, give it a read and let me know all!!! xx

Summary: Angelina Warrington decided she should head across the pond and find her barrings in the most prestigious University in London, Saint Winslet Academy. At first, this was completely against her parents' expectations, they wanted her to remain close to home. Since she signed up late, there had been confusion about her living situation, and now she was stuck with the spoiled rich kid from the wrong side of the tracks. TomxOC AU. Romance/Drama/Comedy.

#fic: uni mix-up #romance #tom holland #tom holland imagines #tom holland x oc #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fluff #tom holland au #love #tom x oc #tom holland fics #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #head canons

[alldayangst]

100 letters, just for me (Tom Holland)

All of my fics are LGBT and PoC friendly. PAIRING: uni (fuckboy/frat) Tom x uni reader. Summary: ‘You wrote a hundred letters just for me / And I find them in my closet in the pockets of my jeans / Now I’m constantly reminded me of the time I was nineteen / Every single ones forgotten in a laundromat machine’.

“Walk of shame?” your friend, Camren, sat in the lounge, TV on low as Tom walked with his clothes carelessly thrown on his body, recovered hoodies and jumpers you previously stole sat in a pile as high as mountains in his hands, leading Camren to wonder whether or not it was really the end this time round. “Third time this week!”

“Don’t worry, I won’t be back anytime soon.” Tom slams the door behind him as hard as he could, and just when Camren thinks they can get a moment of peace, they hear a screeching sob rip through the air through the walls of your room. And Camren swears they live in a movie; a scratched CD of a bad romantic drama, that replays the part where the lovers face their problems over and over again.

‘My mouth hasn’t shut up about you since you kissed it’

You remembered the start of this debacle like it was yesterday. You and Tom were in the bathtub and Tom told you to reach inside the back pocket of your jeans, he’d left something important in there. “I’m not ready to get married, if you left a ring in there. I’m only 19.” Tom kissed your shoulder, back cold and pressed against the tub - but he’d been willing to compromise to be the crutch you leaned against, to be the haven you found refuge in. To be the hill you died on.

“It better not be a ring, Holland. I swear.”

“I’ve never met someone who didn’t want to get proposed to as much as you.” He laid his chin against your shoulder once your search become successful, and you found a strip of paper in your trouser back pocket.

“My mouth hasn’t shut up about you, since you kissed it.” You turned to Tom who could only see your face in the corner of his eye, having found a new living situation of the warm, wet slope previously called your shoulder. “Tom, what is this?”

“100 letters, just for you. You’ll find them in every pair of your jeans. I’m with you forever.” He wrapped his arms around your waist and press a hard, loving kiss on your lips, causing you to drop the tiny piece upon which Tom scribbled his message. “Just for me? You stole this from a love letter by Alex Turner to Alexa Chung!” Tom couldn’t take his love-hazed gaze off of you, and kissed you again like he was oblivious to the words you were saying or you were speaking a foreign language he didn’t understand. “You don’t stop complaining, do you?”

Six months later marked the end of yours and Tom’s gap year, and you decided to move in together off campus.

“I can’t find it.” Tom smiled as he shook his head, your orange in his hand as he sat on a stool opposite your lunchbox. He knew you had a presentation that day and was eager to impress, so you’d shoved your most sensible pair of slacks in the washing machine without a care and when Tom went to unload it, his note for you torn into tiny pieces and covered in botched ink slithered out and caplunked into a minuscule puddle on your wooden floor.

“I’m serious, you didn’t write one this time.” You rummaged through your blazer pockets just to check for certain you were right before you turned to Tom with every bit of confidence that he’d truly forgotten to write you a little love letter this time around.

Tom placed the orange back into the fruit basket and opted for a tomato instead. He took note of the shock in your face and the wince you made as he juggled it, and it drew dangerously close to the ground. “Tom, don’t juggle that. If it hits the ground, it will splatter everywhere.” Tom giggled. 

“Have you checked your slacks?”

“You think I haven’t checked my trousers?” You turned your trouser pockets inside out with the flare of pride.”You’ve forgotten. It’s OK, Tom.”

You opened your lunchbox to place your orange in, but a piece of red card occupied the compartment usually owed to your snacks. 

You held the card up: “I love you from my head tomatoes.” Tom chuckled cheekily, not watching as the tomato rolled off the counter and depicted a large, red splatter on the kitchen floor. But Tom promised he would clean it up.

Tom didn’t forget about writing one love letter, until he did. And by that point, his letters had felt almost as autonomous as the days of the week. You didn’t even have to think about it, they just went by. So you’d be raking through every end of the house, expecting to find his letter.

“Tom, where’s the letter?”

“Huh? I don’t know.” Tom locked the door as if he’d been chased by wolves, looking up and down through the peephole and then giving a satisfied lick of the lip.

“What do you mean, you don’t know?” 

“As in, I don’t know - you’d have to look for it darling.”

Little did he know that’s what you spent your whole day doing. And you hadn’t found anyone with sharper eyes or a bigger will to find it for you.

You didn’t find the note that night. You didn’t know there wasn’t any.

“I found one! ‘You’re my happy place’.” Huh. Tom hadn’t written a new one in a while. He must have put a note in both of the pockets in this pair of jeans. These jeans had been tossed aside, barely worn, in fact - never worn since you’d tried them out in the dressing room at the store two months ago. You were in awe of how young love could take you so far, and kissed the tired Tom that laid beside you. You pulled back and caressed his cheek.

“Why didn’t you kiss back?” You asked, too drunk on ignorant bliss to acknowledge the warning signs and the parade of red flags that told you to leave before you got truly hurt. “M’ just tired.” And it showed. His hair was matted, clad to his face, a few shades darker that it usually was due to all the sweat. He took in every breath like he’d never breathed before and kept watering at the eye; the kind of cry you did when even the fatigue wouldn’t let you sleep. 

It was inevitable. Three months later, you and Tom broke up. You were freshly twenty, and freshly out of a relationship. Tom moved out of your shared apartment, and you found yourself trying to navigate university with a compass that seemed to only point South. You never had to have friends here before, because you had Tom. It was out of sheer luck that you stumbled upon Camren who not only shared your soul and your mind, but agreed to share your home. Tom Holland quickly became synonymous with London nightlife and out of reluctance to let you go (call it withdrawal symptoms), requested that you continue to see each other as long as romance was left out of the equation. You’d happily obliged and incessantly kept a cobweb-covered carousel going years after it stopped being the main attraction. On the nights you left with Tom, Camren was tossed aside, forgotten like coat in a cloakroom, so it was only fair game that they’d tease and whine at you when Tom left in the morning. If Tom left in the morning.

Tom was ravenous, and you ended up on Camren’s nest of a sofa. “I love the bones off you.” he muttered, and Tom was perhaps too keen to grab a handful of your backside, he docked both hands into both your pockets, fingernails scrambling at little torn pieces of paper. His heart went into panic mode. He squirmed to get out. The piece of paper landed beside you as he forcefully yanked his hands out, feeling like a prisoner freed to a world that was only half of what it was before.

‘I’d be a crazy, blind man to ever leave you.’

The room fell silent. Maybe with Camren’s TV on low, you didn’t have the space to have these moments. To stop indulging in the highs of life and really examine why the lows were the lows.

“Tom. I’m demanding honesty.”

Tom sighs. He’s so different these days, so cold. He unentangles your bodies and huffs and puffs like a little kid who hasn’t gotten their way. This, before you’d even said anything. You don’t know if you can deal with this white noise. 

“I just want to know why we broke up.”

Tom chooses to look at the artwork opposite the couch, because his safe place is no longer his safe place. Because now that you’re demanding honesty, instead of taking it when it comes, his happy place becomes his vulnerable. Tom didn’t like to be vulnerable. It’s why he ended things in the first place.

“Well, we’re in uni..” Tom’s not sure if he wants to continue. He can feel the spotlight on him, you looking at him. He’s center stage but not one for attention. He’s suddenly painfully aware of the fragility of his answer, and worries it will go ‘splat!’ and make like a tomato, and then you’ll really never speak to him again. He furrows his brows as he looks down into his lap, twiddling and pulling at his fingers as if they had the answer (they used to) before he says it in the best way he knows how, your eyes boring into him. “We’re at uni, and there’s so many beautiful women and handsome men, and mighty attractive human beings walking around here, and it’s hard to believe one person you met at a stupid age could compare to the pool of people that are here.”

And how it sounds in Tom’s head, how he meant it is so much better to the way it sounds and means to you. Because words like ‘compare’ and ‘pool of people’ highlight how insignificant and worthless Tom felt he was to you. He felt he communicated how he insecure he was feeling. To you? Words like ‘comapre’ only shine a torch on your own insecurities and phrases like ‘pool of people’ makes you contemplate whether Tom was ever unfaithful, and it made you feel insignificant, worthless. 

“So, I’m definitely not the only person in your life right now.” Tom looks up and before he can say anything- “I’m not something you can butter up and taste when you get bored.”

“Y/N.” Tom starts. “That would never be the way I could see you.”

“I’d like you to leave, Tom.”

And leave he does.

Two weeks later, you and Camren found yourself in a predicament. “Can you get it out?” Camren had their hand down the drain of your bathtub. Cautiously, they launched two fingers in. “Can you get it out?” You asked again, nibbling lightly on the tip of your nails out of nervousness.

“Honestly, it doesn’t feel that big.” Camren stops their search after hooking their finger around the culprit of which blocked your plughole. “It’s a piece of fucking paper.” Camren sighs a breath of relief. “My mouth hasn’t shut up about you since you kissed it.”

You breathe in.

Credit for the gif goes to: /dreamyyholland

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[loserholland]

𝐍𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞 | 𝐓.𝐇

Pairing ➺ Uni student!Tom Holland x Uni student!Reader

Warning ➺ ANGST, fluff at the end though

Word Count ➺  1,418

Summary ➺  All couples fight, but that never means it’s the end... right?

A/N ➺ Huge huge thank you to @ariistotles​​ for telling me how to do the gradient color dividers! I also just wanted to post something if I don’t upload part five of little cupid by wednesday because I’ll be at zion from thursday to sunday which means no cell service!! soo, hope you enjoy this little blurb. Oh! and do yall like the new layout I did, kinda new lol.

✿ 𝓟𝓮𝓻𝓶𝓪𝓷𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓣𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 ✿ - @loveyathreethousand  @killerqueen-gunpowdergelatine @spideyyypeter @lou-la-lou​@babebenhardy @rivervixenbaby @acklesholland @zabdisamor @keepingupwiththehollands @sweet666pea @sspider-parker @jackiehollanderr @caro0512 @thewinchesterchronicles @cporter003 @kisses-holland @spideysnugget @cryszus @sunflowerharrystyles @peterunderoos @ohbabycal @laucontrerasv​ @spider-mendes​ @jessybellsworld​ @quaksonhehe​

@iloveyou3000morgan @random-things-i-love

*The strike through your name just means I couldn’t tag you, please message me if anything*

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It was a quarter till one, (Y/N) sat on their king sized bed. The room was dimly lit, the only source of light was the full moon shinning over peaceful London. Tessa was asleep on her lap, she had grown tired of waiting near the door awaiting for Tom to come home. 

“Please leave a mes-” 

This felt the the hundredth time she had called Tom. None of the boys knew where he was which is oddly surprising because if he wasn’t hanging out with (Y/N), he was out with the boys. 

Her mind tried not to wonder, wonder to the thought of Tom doing the unthinkable. She trusted him, hell she moved in with him around the time of their nine month anniversary. She knew in her heart that Tom wouldn’t do such thing. 

The two have been dating for little over a year now, sure they’ve had their ups and downs but that only made their relationship stronger. Someone once said, “You can’t have a relationship without any fights, but you can make your relationship worth fighting for.” 

Tessa’s ears perked up at the sound of the front door unlocking, she quickly moved away from (Y/N) lap and darted to the door. Even though she follow Tessa, she knew Tessa was wagging her tail happily at the sight of Tom. Glancing down at her phone, it was a few minutes past one.

“Hey Tes.” Tom mumbled bending down slightly to pick up his furbaby. Dragging himself to their shared bedroom, he noticed his girlfriend was still up sitting upright against the headboard. He placed Tessa back down, watching as the Staffordshire Bull Terrier jumped onto the bed.

“(Y-”

“Where were you Tom?” 

(Y/N) eyes were focused on lap, her fingers fiddling with the hem of her Tom’s shirt. She didn’t want to yell, it was already so late for that. But he hasn’t been answering any of her calls or text. If you think about it, she had every right to feel worried, angry, and hurt. It only takes a second to send a simple text. It only takes a second to answer the phone.

“I just went out to get a couple drinks.” Tom shrugged, there was a hint of annoyance in his voice. He may not realize it, but she does. She could tell when someone’s mood shifts, or their change in tone. 

“You could’ve told me.” her voice was small barley a whisper, loud enough for only Tom to hear. She didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, but she wanted to know why Tom didn’t give her a heads up.

Whenever they use to fight, usually it was over little things. Like, forgetting something, or if one of you got jealous, leaving the toilet seat up, cleaning after themselves. 

Little things.

“I was only out for what? Five hours? Most of those five hours, I was studying for midterms with some people from chem. Then we went out for a few drinks.” It was safe to say, Tom didn’t really see the problem. He didn’t see why he couldn’t go out for a few drinks with some friends.

“Tom, it’s the fact that you didn’t answer my calls and text! I was worried!” Tom was taken aback when (Y/N) got up from the bed, her voice raising as she stood. Her and Tom may be three inches apart meaning he’d still tower over her a bit, but that never intimidated her. 

Running his hands over his face, he closed his eyes for a second “Do you not trust me? (Y/N), I’m not the same person I was two years ago!” Before the two got to talking, Tom had quite the body count. Almost every girl on campus wanted to shag him. 

(Y/N) scoffed lightly running her hand through her hair in frustration, “I do trust you Tom! That was the last thing on my mind, I know you would never cheat on me! I was worried! Don’t you see the difference?” God it turned into a scream fest within seconds. Pretty sure someone is going to file a nose complaint against them tomorrow.

Tom pinched the bridge of his nose closing his eyes for a brief moment before say, “Maybe I wanted to spend some time away from you! Maybe we don’t need to spend every waking moment together!” (Y/N) stood there with wide eyes, processing what her boyfriend had just told her. 

This is the first time, Tom had yelled at her and told her that. Maybe we don’t need to spend every waking moment together. Ouch. I guess that’s why couples wait to move in together when they’re married or for sure going to get married. Or when they’re ready in general.

“Wow, okay.” (Y/N) moved to grab her pillows from her side of the bed, quickly moving into their shared walk in closet to grab an extra blanket. He wanted alone time, okay I’ll give it to him. 

“Wait-” Tom began but (Y/N) stopped him, “You want alone time. I get it. You get the bedroom, I’ll sleep on the couch. Good night Thomas.” her heart clenched at every word that left her mouth. She just wanted to cry to get everything out, Tessa trailed after her but (Y/N) ushered the pup back into the bedroom. 

Tom sat at the edge of their bed, “Fucking hell.” his head was buried in his hands. He fucked up and he knows he did, (Y/N) was truly a blessing in disguise without her he’d be failing his classes and not on the right track. She’s there to put him in his place when he’s out of line. He had gotten ready for bed in silence, thinking over what had happened. God he felt like a complete idiot, (Y/N) saw the good in him, the potential that everyone failed to see.

Gathering the his pillows and Tessa he padded into the living room. Even though he had basically said he needed time away from her, he wanted to be by her side at the end of the day.

Peeking over he noticed she was sound asleep, but there were tear stains on her cheeks, he brushed the few strands of hair behind her ear. He pressed a chaste kiss on her forehead before getting comfortable on the ground beside the couch.

“Good night (Y/N).”

(Y/N) groaned blinking a few times to adjust to the light that was peeking through the curtain of the living room. She sat upright against the arm of the couch tilting her head some side to side earning a few cracks, she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes before letting out a loud sigh.

Her attention turned to the figure sleeping on the ground next to her, “Tom?” she mumbled he was curled up with Tessa without a blanket. She leaned forward tapping Tom’s shoulder again, “Thomas, wake up.” he jerked forward slightly causing Tessa to wake up.

He squinted his eyes slightly to see (Y/N) looking down at him in confusion, “Why are you on the gro-” Tom sat up on his knees pulling her into a hug “I’m so sorry, I didn’t want to leave you alone. I’m so sorry I had said that, I- I wouldn’t know what I’d do without you in my life. I fucked up (Y/N), I’m so fucking sorry.” he sobbed into her neck.

She wrapped her arms around him running her hands through his hair, “Bub? I understand if you need some alone time, I do. Just talk to me, don’t go off the grid and have me worried. This is just another obstacle that we can get over.” (Y/N) pulled away from him moving her hands to cup his cheeks. 

“It did hurt when you said that though but, I know you’re sorry. Let’s not dwell on it and move on from it hm? If you want to go out with the boys I’m not holding you back from that. Just tell me where you’re going and text me when you’re on your way home. And if I wanted to go out, I’d do the same thing too text or call you.”

Tom nodded in agreement pressing a kiss into the palm of her hand, (Y/N) leaned forward to give him a chaste kiss before leaning her forehead against his, “I love you.” she whispered as Tom nugged his nose against her’s. 

“I love you too. Now, let’s go shower I wanna take my girl out today.”

Someone once said:

A relationship is like a house. When a lightbulb burns out you do not go and buy a new house, you fix the light bulb.

#tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland au #tom holland smut #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland edit #tom holland angst #uni!tom #uni!tom x reader