Tom Holland Fanfiction - Blog Posts

The reader trash talking the characters in a cinema then Tom overhears and debates or agrees with their reasoning. Both striking up a conversation until being shushed. 💗

a/n : it took me so long to finish but here we go! i want to thank my friend jess for encouraging me 🥺

warnings : a few swear words and probably lots of typos

tom promised you to see onward with you the second you said you couldn't attend premier, unlike his family. he was sad, you were sad but there was nothing to do so you both had to wait until he came back.

finally, you were at the theatre with him and couldn't suppress your big smile. tom could see how happy you were, both because being able to see the movie and because seeing it with him. you were a smiley, excited mess until the second period of the movie.

he realized how furiously you were eating the snacks and your frown which made him smile slightly. it was funny sight for him and he was enjoying every second.

'dumbass,' you spoke under your breath unconsciously. but tom heard that.

'why is that, love? and try to chew them slower, i'm worried about your teeth at this point...' you giggled at his words and stopped chewing before speaking;

'well, where to start? ian is a sweetheart. the cutest character i've ever seen and deserves every good thing. did you realize that ian is literally your alter, tom? that arm thing? ears? of course you did ugh! and barley? he is pure but keep acting like a dumbass? he better gets a grip or he'll catch these hands,'

hearing your words made tom laugh quietly. he was sure you were going to get kicked out before the movie ends since he knew how movie ends.

things were going downhill in the movie and all you wanted to watch was ian and his dad's union. but OF COURSE things didn't go as you expected. you know you shouldn't have talked but you just couldn't stop? 'look, i KNOW barley was already old enough to remember him and some of the things they did together and ian was a baby, i got it. but don't you think it was a bit cruel to make him watch his father and his brother rebond one last time while he was stuck there? i just.... feel sad.'

well, tom was sad too. he cried at the premier because of this scene and when a fan approached him for a selfie later, he was still teary eyed. you thought it was cute.

'ian didn’t get to meet his father, and that’s because it wasn’t part of his character’s journey – it was barley’s, darling. barley didn’t get to say goodbye to him. ian never met him,so his journey was all about discovering that his brother was the one who had always been there for him and helped raise him, whereas barley’s was all about closure. this made ian sacrifice his one chance to meet his father so barley could say goodbye to him, and so ian doesn’t really have any unfinished business when it comes to his father. personally, i wanted them to meet t-'

'hey guys, can you keep quiet?'

tom snapped his head towards the intrupter and mouthed 'sorry man,'

'sorry! and the movie is about to finish bro... he voiced him so he has a few rights to talk if you ask me.'

tom threw a warning look before turning back and apologising once more.

'darling i'm glad you liked the movie and wanna chat but you can't use the fact that i voiced ian. it won't save us next time.' tom smirked. 'but i accept your compliment.'

'excuse me? tom i swear-' you smiled after taking a deep breath. 'when it's time to eat rich, i won't hesitate about you, b!tch.'

you stared at each other before started wheezing, 'ouch, y/n! you hurt me,'

'that's what you deserve for coming at me,tommy.' tom's heart fluttered with the nickname, he raised your hand to kiss the back of it.

you weren't in a relationship but you both knew you weren't just friends, not anymore. and did you want to be more than what you are so bad...

it was the moment tom decided to make a move, cross the line and hope you'd be okay with it. so he leaned forward to kiss the corner of your mouth. it took a few seconds to react, was this happening? while watching... onward?!

pulling back, smiling, eye to eye you both let a breathy 'wow,' and giggled. tom kissed your nose once more before diverting his attention, seeing credits are scrolling.

'i know it's silly but... onward is about magic... a-and i'm so glad it made us a thing.' he whispered hesitantly, raised your hand to kiss your knuckles and hide his rosy cheeks.

a sudden rush of affection made you hug his torso tightly. this was all you wanted, what you dreamt for so long.

'it's not silly,' you caressed his cheek before leaning for a kiss. 'not at all, tommy.'

Revenge Is Sweet (Series Masterlist)

~ a Tom Holland Social Media AU

》 STATUS: completed…for now ;) 》 PAIRING: college!football player!tom x college!female!reader 》 TROPE/GENRE: college au; fake dating au; idiots to lovers; angst; fluff; crack-ish 》 WARNINGS: the most cliché of clichés, tropes galore, cheating, pettiness, language, sexual jokes + innuendos, gossips + tea, football ⚽️, not-so-accurate photos, not-so-accurate depictions of college, harrison being a swiftie, tom being a huge flirt, football!player!tom!, flirtatious conversations (e.g. teasing talks & hints of/about sex, nothing explicit), cheesy one-liners, even cheesier captions/tweets, sprinkles of angst, very cute/soft/sweet moments, and long ass text messages especially as the series progresses.

✩ TOM HOLLAND MASTERLIST ✩ MAIN MASTERLIST ✩

⊱ ─────.⋅♚ *｡･ﾟ.★. *｡･ﾟ✫*.

➽ Synopsis:

What happens if your boyfriend cheats on you with your well-known tormenter? Even more exciting, what happens if the Tom Holland—football captain, campus heartthrob, your well-known tormenter’s boyfriend, etcetera—asks you to get revenge on them with him? To put things not so simply, if your boyfriend cheated on you with his girlfriend, who cheated on him with your boyfriend, would that make you friends? Or maybe…something more?

➽ Parts:

⚽️ Intro ⟶ the players ⚽️ Part 1 ⟶ honeymoon phase  ⚽️ Part 2 ⟶ too good to be true ⚽️ Part 3 ⟶ accidental rebound ⚽️ Part 4 ⟶ ️if your enemy is my enemy… ⚽️ Part 5         ↳ 5.1 ⟶ charm & persuade         ↳ 5.2 ⟶ pros & cons ⚽️ Part 6 ⟶ ️game plan ⚽️ Part 7 ⟶ ️let’s start rumours ⚽️ Part 8         ↳ 8.1 ⟶ fiery & reveal(?)         ↳ 8.2 ⟶ real & fake(?) ⚽️ Part 9         ↳ 9.1 ⟶ perfect & precious company         ↳ 9.2 ⟶ ️pregame care & packages ⚽️ Part 10 ⟶ oscar-worthy “acting” ⚽️ Part 11 ⟶ chase(ing) self-deception ⚽️ Part 12 ⟶ revenge is bitter ⚽️ Part 13         ↳ 13.1 ⟶ assist to goal (bc idiot needs help)         ↳ 13.2 ⟶ assist to goal (bc other idiot needs help) ⚽️ Part 14 ⟶ ️for real, this time ⚽️ Part 15 ⟶ revenge turned out sweeter [final]

➽ Extras:

tom asking begging for your number

⚽️ REVISTING IS SWEETER (Masterlist)

a collection of Revenge Is Sweet written extras

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ♛ *.

✎ feedback is always appreciated <3

©️ t-lostinworlds, 2021

We’re Only Kidding Ourselves

You work as a production assistant for the Spider-Man: Far From Home crew, or rather as Tom Holland’s handler. The two of you don’t get along very well to say the least, but you won’t quit and he can’t fire you so you’re stuck with each other.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine | Part Ten | Part Eleven | Part Twelve | Part Thirteen💦 | Part Fourteen | Part Fifteen | Part Sixteen | Part Seventeen 💦 | Part Eighteen | Part Nineteen | Part Twenty 💦 | Part Twenty-One | Part Twenty-Two | Part Twenty-Three 💦 | Part Twenty-Four | Part Twenty-Five | Part Twenty-Six | Part Twenty-Seven | Part Twenty-Eight | Part Twenty-Nine | Part Thirty 💦 | Epilogue | completed on 10.03.2019

playlist by @cinnamon-roll-peter

gifset by @honeymoonlover

Peter Parker [Favourites]

this is an overview of some of the best peter parker fics out there - this list covers all tropes

* = smut

* Don't Hold Back - @hollandcrush

two hormonal students wander into a room during a frat party, what could possibly happen? maybe you discover that under his heart made of pure gold lurks a hidden powerful, dominant side

Sunset Lovers - @duskholland

you’ve never met your soulmate, but you know his handwriting like the back of your hand...literally - every word your soulmate writes on his skin appears on yours, and vice versa - you’re desperate to meet him, but until the universe decides to introduce you, you’re stuck with scribbled smiley faces and chemistry formulae

Was It Worth It - @kelieah

reader and peter are married with a baby, after every mission she questions if it “was it worth it” but as she becomes muddled up in a dangerous mission, peter doesn't know if it is worth it anymore

Disappointed - @dlwritings

the events of endgame have taken their toll on peter - unfortunately, this means you’re left picking up his broken pieces, and you’re not sure how much more strength you have to help him

His Plan - @dlwritings

you’re far too shy to tell peter how you feel about him - you always have been, he’s shy about it too, but decides to bite the bullet and confess a couple things to you on the school trip to europe - his plan doesn’t, however, account for you feeling the same

The Storm - @starlordsandrockets

peter parker was the last person you wanted to be partnered with for your class presentation - now you were forced to spend the day with him but your loathing soon turns into something quite different when the day is over

Just For Tonight - @cloudybarnes

peter accidentally tells the avengers he has a girlfriend and now they all wanna meet her. in an attempt to not look like a liar, he recruits his best friend y/n to fake date him for the night so he can introduce them to her

* What Good Boys Do - @vampireinbusiness

can you do one about shy peter and his love for readers short skirts like he gets so flustered seeing her in them but he always touches her and him going down on his knees to eat her out with them on

Remember That Night - @tinyyoungblood

peter spends a night on omegle and comes across a sleeping girl. peter decides not to skip her - he reads to her and talks to her about his problems, and when she finally wakes, they lose themselves in endless conversation until she hits him with the “see you in a different life, bye peter

Better Half - @ptersmj

where you fall asleep on peters lap after a mission and he just takes care of you?

Trouble In Paradise - @ptersmj

peter loves giving y/n hickies - when they at a pool party with the rest of the avengers, everyone starts teasing her about them

Honor - @itsapeterthing

your best friend peter parker who has a secret crush on you catches your boyfriend cheating with another girl

Invisible String (Series) - @peterbenjiparker

you were content with the way your life was, until you woke up with a red string wound around your fingertips and the red string just had to link you to your best friend, peter - now you were subjected to a possible life of no love as you watched peter, your soulmate, fall for someone else all the while getting fucked over by the universe in the worst way possible

Drunk On You - @peterbenjiparker

peter calls you from a frat party after getting drunk to get over you while you were out on a date

* Your Mess - @peterbenjiparker

peter got drunk at flash's party and you have to take care of him

* Wet Dreams - @selfcarecap

what the title says - also, friends to lovers

Time After Time (Series)- @softspideys

peter parker is your worst enemy, but he’s also your soulmate. life is funny that way

Sweet Dreams, Parker - @marvelousmrsmarvel

being a full-time student is exhausting in itself, let alone being an avenger as well. you and peter both knew the feeling a little too well. so, when peter is losing sleep over finals week, you step in to help get his sleeping schedule back on track

Of Sleep & Safety - @florenceyelena

in which peter parker slumps into your room exhausted and you have to try and get him into bed despite the height difference between you

Can't Lose You - @ms-misery

you're trying to get over your best friend but no matter how hard you try you just can't seem to do it

* Secret - @celestialbarnes

you and peter have been dating for a few months now, and in order to keep your dad and the team in the dark, you two sneak around, not knowing that the entire team already knew, everyone but tony of course, chaos ensues

Cuddles - @parkersdoll

peter has a bad day, all he can think about is you

Can't Escape (Series)- @asonofpeter

life moves fast out in the suburbs, you live the perfect life with your mother and father but when you start to crave for more meaning in life than just westview, your mother does every thing in her power to make sure you don’t leave - can you ever imagine what’s on the other side of ellis avenue?

* Vacation (Series) - @scarletspideyy

it’s peter parker’s senior year class trip, all he wants is a break from the stress of high school and his spider-man duties - to his surprise, he gets the vacation he always wanted but it doesn’t come without its own personal trouble; love

* Break It In - @simplyparker

peter gets his first car, and you want to have some fun

Hopelessly Devoted To You - @spiritualchange

what can he say, peter is just devoted to you

* The Birthday Boy - @noobsquasher

it's peter's birthday and you celebrate it by giving him a memorable lap dance

Perfectly A Little Late - @t-lostinworlds

with all things college, two jobs, tutoring on weekends and another at the bakery downtown, you're one busy girl - peter completely understands that of course, admires it even but it doesn't make it sting any less when you just so happen to forget about his birthday

Kiss Me More - @celestialholland

you and peter make out for the first time

* Pretend I'm Not Here - @thighs-of-betrayal-blog

peter asking you to touch yourself in front of him like you do when you're alone

Caffeine - @waitimcomingtoo

peter’s shyness makes him an easy target at his new job, but one co-worker always stands up for him

* Rings, Rings, Rings - @vintagemulti

in which your boyfriends newfound love towards jewellery affects you more than you expected

Halftime - @eloquenceflores

your cute nerdy bf takes care of you during the half-time of the football game you’re cheering at

all the bright places → p.p

SUMMARY: in which you have a dilemma, and suddenly come face to face with the city’s superhero on the ledge of the bell tower at school.

WARNINGS: passing out, suicide attempt, female reader, unedited.

You’d think you had gotten used to it by now–the blanking out, the waking up. Even as it happened, whenever you reopened your eyes, you felt a little bit more numb every time. Yet, as it continued on, you soon realized that this was the worst one by far. You can’t really tell what was different this time around, only that when you woke, you didn’t actually feel awake. It felt as if you were almost stuck in a dream– or maybe a weird stage that had you caught in between being awake and asleep. It was as if you were empty, like someone had sucked all the blood out of your measly veins. You were alive, yes, but empty.

Closing your eyes, you feel the rusted ironwork curve beneath your fingertips. You don’t exactly remember how you got up here, though you don’t find it surprising, as your arrival here had followed your anemic episode. But here you are, standing six stories above ground, a thin barrier only between you and that narrow ledge. You’re practically a part of the sky, and as you listen to the bustle from the pavement below, you can practically feel the world tip. Everything spins, and you almost feel the wind float you away, drifting you off until there’s nothing.

Another gale rocks you, and it’s when you open your eyes that you realize you’re on the other side of the iron workings of the rail, standing shoeless on the concrete sill in your sheer mustard tights. The laces of your boots are clenched tightly between your quivering fingers, swaying slightly against the gusting breeze.

It’s probably over the whirlwind and oncoming drizzling of rain that you don’t hear the door open to the bell tower of the high school. He’s halfway, running silently, almost to the end and up in the sky when he notices you’re there. You stand a few feet away on the opposite side, hair waving in the breeze and skirt blown up like a parachute. Suddenly, the mask in his clutches is forgotten, and he takes a careful step towards you.

You’re one of the last people he’d suspect to see up here, six stories up on a bell tower and inches away from a ghastly death. You’re popular– a cheerleader even, someone expected to go out with Flash Thompson or sit at lunch with Lizzie Allen. And behind those clunky glasses that you insisted to wear all the time, though he knew they were utterly useless, you were pretty, like a china doll almost. And yet despite these attributes, you still somehow made time for the boy that was unknowingly behind you, staring you down as if he could freeze time itself.

“The worst thing you could do is look down.” The whisper that disposes from his lips is so silent that he’s almost certain you didn’t hear it, but it carries in the wind, and your fingers tighten immediately around the fencing. You didn’t have to turn around to confirm who it was speaking to you.

“It’s starting to rain,” he says, as if you don’t already know this. And yet, as his words are processed in your mind, you abruptly become aware of the water seeping into your cardigan, pooling around your bare meshed feet. You’re shivering, or shaking, the boy behind you can’t tell which one, and so he slowly inches himself towards you more, hoping his movements don’t frighten you and cause you to fall.

“Peter…” his name falls off your tongue, and he suddenly realizes his mistake. His mask remains in his hand, and he pulls it halfway over his forehead, mirroring that of a beanie. It’d be useless now in your presence.

When you don’t say anything else, he goes on inching forward, calling your name out in a hopeless reply.

From down below, someone yells, “Y/N? Is that Y/N up there?”

“Oh God,” you whisper, so low he barely hears it. You turn towards him, eyes widening and almost losing your balance when you realize who had been behind you the entirety of those few minutes. “OhGodohGodohGodohGodohGod.”

The wind blows your hair and skirt, and it feels like the slightest movement could have you fly away.

There is a general buzzing from the ground, and you don’t know if it’s from your current position or the fact that the superhero clad in red stood a mere few feet away from you. But it wasn’t that fact that had your heart in a race with the buzzing in your ears, but rather who had been behind the mask the whole time.

You attempt to straighten yourself, but your rain soiled feet betray your movements and suddenly you’re slipping, grasping back at the railing. Peter moves quickly, and his webbing encompasses your hand, trapping you to the safety of the rusting iron. You glare at the leather boots that fell from your grasp, landing on the other side of the fence with a couple of thumps.

“Here’s what I think you should do—”

“Peter.” It’s a whisper, and he can’t help but stare at you in desperation to get you out of your current situation. “Your mask.”

He stares at you in bafflement for a moment, one eyebrow arched before he scrambles, pulling the material to completely cover his face. All traces of Peter Parker suddenly disappeared.

“Y/N, listen to me; here’s what I want you to do.” The boy takes a slight step forward, as if he is the one on the ledge and not you before him. His hands are held out in front of him, a silent plead for you to stand still. Peter doesn’t know why, but at this very instant, he doesn’t trust his own instincts. If every New Yorker had traded spots with you now, he probably wouldn’t feel the utter fear that engulfed his entire being. But when it comes to you, his best friend, all meticulously calculated plans that could be formulated in just a few moments fly out the window. He simply has no confidence in what he’s supposed to do.

“I want you to turn around completely– yes I know, one of your hands is stuck.” His throat feels clammy, and he doesn’t know if he should continue on with his plan or spring over the railing in an attempt to save your anxiety ridden state. He watches, completely still, as you slowly turn around, your body shaking with even the slightest movement. “And then grab onto the rail– just grab onto it. Once you’ve got it, lean against it and then lift your right foot up and over. Got that?”

You nod, and Peter suddenly realizes how pale you’ve gone, stricken with panic.

“Okay,” he breathes, “Whatever you do, don’t step the wrong way. I’ll count you off. On three.”

You grip the curved iron and kind of prop yourself against it.

“One. Two. Three.”

You lift your leg up and over the railing so you’re sitting on it. You stare down at the ground, and you’re frozen once again.

Peter says, “Good. Great job. Now, just stop looking down.”

You slowly look at him and then reach for the floor of the bell tower with your right foot, and once you’ve found it, he speaks again, “Now get that left leg back however you can. Don’t let go of the wall.”

By now you’re shaking so hard you’re sure he can hear your teeth chatter. Cautiously, you lift your leg over the railing, stopping in a panic as your tights snag onto one of the sharp grooves. Peter takes a brisk step towards you, watching your moment of alarm. Jerking your leg forward, your tights tear free, giving yourself enough momentum to rip the webbings’ hold of your hand. You hurl across the puddled concrete and into open arms.

For a minute you can almost feel it, with his hands gripping your shoulders and your fingers latched tightly around his biceps. The sense of peace as your mind goes quiet, like you’re already dead. You are weightless and free. Nothing and no one to fear, not even yourself.

And despite the tight crinkle around your closed eyelids, the image is so clear and vivid. You can almost see the ground itself, six stories below, slick and damp, your body lying there.

“You alright?” Peters voice is quiet, soothing enough to have you open your eyes. He stares at you in silence, his mask once again pulled up and curling around his ears. There’s still a buzzing down below, and from the volume you’re almost certain it’s because of the boy before you.

You take a breath, it’s shaky, but it’s enough for him. He tightens his arms around you, bringing you into his chest as your fingers tug on the material of his suit. You want to cry, scream until you’ve gutted your throat raw and bang your fists on the ground until they’re cracked and bleeding. But you remain calm, unwavering of any emotion, and it frightens Peter down to the core.

“Thank you, Peter Parker.” It’s a whisper, but still there.  You reach up and kiss him on the cheek, and he catches the scent of your shampoo, and it smells of flowers.

He curls his fingers into your back. “Let’s get you home, okay?”

“Okay.”

i would’ve stayed for you → t.h

SUMMARY: au! where everyone is born with a small tattoo, and whenever you fall in love with someone, their tattoo appears on your body. tom, who drifted apart from you once his acting career took off, falters during an interview, and its announced that he’s attained someone else’s tattoo. it’s not until tom spontaneously shows up at your doorstep and apologizes profusely that you realized it’s your tattoo that had inked itself onto his skin.

WARNINGS: language. fluff. you strip your shirt off lol. angst (?)

The morning was going by slow, exhaustingly slow. You could say that much. The coffee machine was broken at your workplace and the lack of noise in the office was driving you insane, encouraging the bags under your sleep deprived eyes to induce them to close even just for a few moments. You couldn’t recall the last time you had a decent amount of sleep. Now, your nights were filled with paperwork and news articles that you worked your ass off to write, only to be rejected each time you attempted to present a new idea to your boss. At least there was the ac that froze up the entire office building, your khaki sweater doing nothing to appeal the freezing temperature.

A pair of hands suddenly slapped down onto your desk, making you jump from your chair and bite down on your tongue to hold a spew of words you’d rather not have your boss overhear. A giggle was what brought you to look up at the face of the person that nearly scared you half to death, and a bubble of annoyance manifested on your features as your assistant smiled giddily down at you.

“Yes?”

She leaned down over your desk, whispering excitedly in your ear, “There’s an interview right now.”

Your brows furrowed.

“I don’t get it,” you said flatly.

She sighs loudly, dramatically emphasizing her point of you having no clue what the hell she was talking about.

“Tom Holland,” she drew out, “is doing an interview next door. Like, at this very second.”

The name made you freeze, and you leaned down to pick up the pen that had rolled off your desk to try and dampen the nervousness that itched at your palms.

You nearly choked out the next words, exerting a cough that resembled your discomfort. “This is important, why?”

She gave you a wicked smile, one that was as if she was about to tell you a secret nobody around the globe could know. As if she had done something so unbelievably, she’d want the entire globe to know. “Rumor has it he earned a new tattoo.”

With her words, you subconsciously rubbed the bandaid on your left bicep, covering the markings that ultimately decided your fate. You felt it was stupid, the whole someone falls in love with you and attains your tattoo forever thing. At least, that was your point of view about it. It was just that you found it unfair that something so minuscule could determine what relationships changed for the better or for the worst. And for forever? Wouldn’t it just be better if they’d disappear after your feelings dissipated for that person? You, however, couldn’t fathom the thought of having someone else’s ink punctuated into your skin, and it’s obvious due to the small alignment of swirls that were detailed on the right side of your ribcage. 

“Imagine it though!” She gushed. “Having Tom Holland with your tattoo!”

“I don’t have time for this right now-“

“Whoever it is sure is lucky-“

“Amya-“

“I mean, I couldn’t tell you what I’d do to get Tom Holland to have my tattoo.”

“Shouldn’t you be at the fax machine?”

Your drone of words immediately silenced her, and with a nod she left you back in your cubicle, tapping your pen against the polished wood of your desk in contemplation.

For the next few hours, the interview was all the buzz, and you avoided anyone who even thought about mentioning the topic. However, you didn’t know how long you could forestall it, as in 24 hours the interview would be released world wide, and the thought of what was once your childhood best friend falling in love with someone else really took a stab to your gut.

And yet the weight didn’t fall onto you completely until the work day was completed, your computer was shut down, and the rough draft of environmental damage was shoved into the pocket of your backpack. Outside was a madhouse, you realized. Cameras surrounded the building, numerous flashes going off all at once it made your vision blur. You attempted to push through though, muttering excuses left and right to those that trampled into you. Your gaze remained to the ground, not wanting to get involved until you heard someone shout your name through the crowd. Looking up, you saw him, standing by an open door of a yellow taxi cab, eyes pleading in a way that made you not want to look away. In three years, it was the first time you had seen him standing there face to face, just a mere ten feet away. He looked at you as if he wanted to yell your name again, scream obscene apologies at you for the months that he had distanced himself. You didn’t want to look away, you couldn’t, but with hesitance, you did, and the anxious cries of the paparazzi followed you as you rounded the corner of the street.

The next couple of days mirrored the last. Amya, your assistant, had demanded you watch the interview with her the second it had released. You declined, of course, muttering an excuse that it was your lunch break and that was not your ideal way of spending it. The interview, as you imagined, was everywhere. On television, in the trending section of YouTube, and even in the newspaper. Does Tom Holland have a girlfriend? Tom Holland secret lover? Who does the tattoo belong to? You personally thought it was absolutely ridiculous, there were more important events occurring around the world, and sooner or later this whole thing would blow off and it’d just be another celebrity occurrence that everyone would keep on referring to. As of the moment, it was seriously getting in the way of your article, and the enlightenment of exposing your research and opinions were quickly depleting. So you went back to your apartment early, dejected and exhausted, drowning in the hollowness of your present annoyance. There you attempted to type, pulling at your hair and groaning in anguish at the empty word document that seemed to stare menacingly at you. All inspiration was gone, and you sighed defeatedly, your moment of torment cut short by a rhythm of knocks on your front door.

You called for them to wait, brushing back your hair and fanning your flushed face. When you opened it, you stared right into the eyes of the person you had least expected to see. He stood there, unsure, lips upturned slightly in a smile that radiated vulnerability. Your jaw went slack, and all thoughts of your article drained to the back of your mind.

“Shit, uh, come in.”

Tom stepped over the threshold timidly, hands crossed behind his back.

“Do you want anything to drink?”

“No,” his voice cracked softly and he cleared his throat, eyes trailing around your apartment. He was either extremely fascinated with the bowl of fruit that sat atop your table, or he just wouldn’t look at you.

You leaned on your kitchen counter top. “So why are you here?”

For a split second you saw confusion flash on his face, and he cleared his throat once more. “Wha-What do you mean?”

You laughed, softly, cocking your head in interest. “Exactly what I just said. What are you doing here? Out of all places, out of all times.”

“I-I need to talk to you.”

“About?”

“Have you seen the interview yet?”

You sighed, almost wanting to laugh at the thought. “No.”

Tom let out a breath, his poster slacking as he seems to turn away from you. Almost in a whisper, you spoke, trailing your finger through the tiles on your kitchen island. “I don’t have to catch up with someone’s life when they won’t even bother to ask me how my day went.”

Tom’s head snaps up, stepping towards the island counter and resting his hands along the edge. You watched as his fingers tightly gripped the ridge.

“I’m sorry.”

“Tom-”

“I never meant to lose contact with you.”

“Then why did you?”

His posture softens, and you can’t help but lean forward, crossing your arms over themselves.

“I-I don’t know.” 

“There has to be a reason,” you pushed.

“I couldn’t bare the thought of you being mad at me, I guess.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but he quickly cut you off with another plea.

“I think I just thought that if I ignored the issue, it would go away.”

“It clearly didn’t,” you spoke flatly.

“I know but-”

“It clearly made it worse.”

“Yes, I know but-!”

“But what?”

Tom captured his bottom lip between his teeth. “I never wanted to lose you.”

“Tom-”

“You never called me once, when I left. You realize that, right?”

You froze. He was right.

“You know, I thought you just needed some time to cool off,” he continued, “I told myself I would give you a few weeks, a month at most, and then I would call you. Because I get it, I understand that leaving suddenly and then blowing our friendship off with a letter was a bad move, and I knew I could do better than that. But when I did, when I finally mustered up the confidence to call you, you had my number blocked and anything else that I could’ve contacted you on.”

You’re quiet for a few moments, sinking in the words. “I guess I just didn’t know how to react.”

“Neither of us did.”

He smiled at you, a toothless, sincere smile, and for a moment, you almost wanted to smile back.

“You could’ve talked to me, you know. I would’ve understood. I knew how important it was to you.”

“I was scared,” he admitted, “I didn’t know how you would take it. If you’d ask me to stay, or if you just wouldn’t care and let me go.”

“You know I wouldn’t do either of those things. I wouldn’t hold you back. I would’ve supported you, Tom, and I still do.”

He doesn’t reply, just runs a hand through his hair, his eyes crinkling at the corners just a bit.

“I’m pretty sure you didn’t come here to bitch and moan about missing me though,” you said.

“Who says I didn’t?” He countered, leaning forward to match a teasing posture.

“The interview.”

“Right.” His shoulders sink a little. “So you haven’t seen it?”

You shook your head.

“I-I don’t really know how to put this then.”

You leaned forward, encouraging him. He took a breath, as if preparing himself, and he spits out the words in a frenzy.

“Thetattooisyours.”

Your eyebrows crinkled, processing his words. It was like he packed them into a small ball and hurled them across the counter at you.

“What?”

Tom sighed. “You heard about the rumor? About me having another persons tattoo?”

You nodded.

“The tattoo. It’s yours.”

Your chest suddenly felt tight, and there’s a lump that managed to form itself in your throat, making you practically choke out your next words. You know you’re at a crossroads. On one hand, Tom left you. You’re still bitter and hurt and reeling at those few years without him. And yet, you can’t help but feel a wave of relief wash over you. He’s here now, and he’s pouring his heart out to you.

“I-I don’t know what to say.”

“I just need you to understand that this doesn’t have to change anything.” He paused. “Actually, it can, as I would like more than anything to have you back as my best friend.”

You nodded once again, trailing along the side of the counter until you were about three feet away from him.

“I want to see it.”

Tom bobbed his head, pulling up the sleeve of his shirt just by an inch, the trails of black ink becoming visible. You reached up and traced the delicate swirls that formed the shape of a small leaf, feeling him shiver under your caress.

“When?” You asked.

“When I left.” He replied.

You moved back a step, suddenly aware of your proximity. Reaching down to the bottom of your blouse, you begin to unbutton it, working your way up.

“I want to show you something.”

You could nearly hear Tom swallow as you exposed the skin of your chest, moving the fabric of your blouse back to expose the twists and lines that vaguely reflected the outline of the sun.

“That’s-That’s mine.”

He reached forward, unsure, gently running his thumb across the crests of the middle and to the lines that drove outwards.

“It appeared when you left,” you breathed. “I think you leaving was some kind of revelation for the both of us.”

You observed him. His reaction, the uneven tremble of his breaths, the way his pupils dilated when he looked at you. And unexpectedly, on an impulse, you cupped his chin, carefully bringing him down to you, melding your lips together.

Kissing him was like anything you could’ve ever expected and more. It was slow at first, tentative, unaccustomed to each other. Suddenly, your confidence grew, and your back was pressed against the counter. It felt so right, and you grinned against his mouth as his hands slid to your shoulders, warily peeling the shirt down your arms. 

Abruptly, he stopped, fingers brushing against the band aid.

“You hide it?” He asked softly. “Why?”

“I don’t exactly like the idea of a tattoo determining one’s relationship with others.” You confided. “I just feel like everything would be so much easier with out it.”

Tom gazed at you with hooded eyes, intertwining his fingers with your own as he rested his forehead against yours. You smiled shyly at him, closing your eyes as you whispered.

“But with you, I don’t want to be strangers anymore.” You paused, taking a breath. “In fact, I think I’d rather ditch the best friends thing.”

He smiled slyly at you, and all fearful thoughts of rejection were whisked away as he glided his lips over yours.

Without warning, you rolled your hips, and Tom faltered, his head falling into the crevice of your neck.

“For the record,” he shuddered, “if you had asked, I would’ve stayed for you.

besoothing burdens → p.p

SUMMARY: peter announces that he has to fly half way across the world out of the request of Tony Stark, and he comforts you in reassurance that he’ll be alright.

WARNINGS: short & sweet. i accidentally deleted the first post, go me.

It was a whisper, like a gentle breeze of calm wind. An elixir of soft sentiments that lingered with the warmth of his presence. The words, melded with this breath, met with your bare back, a shiver crawling up your spine that left a trail of goosebumps to arise in his wake.

“Y/N.” You felt the callous pads of his fingers gently tracing the soft skin on the nape of your neck, brushing your hair aside. His hands threaded between the wispy tendrils, crowned around your head as if they were to form a halo. Lips found their way to your chin, a fragile stamp that had you clenching your teeth to abstain from gasping aloud.

Peter hummed against your skin, knowing that you were awake. Nonetheless, his kiss remained, peppering down your neck and coalescing with your skin. His touch left you breathless, tinting your cheeks with a glowing affection.

“Y/N.” Bliss rolled from between his lips, husk and raw. Sweet, loving, and whispered it came. Like honey resonating from his tongue and sifting through every fiber of your body. It came again, pouring from the delicate kisses that were being lovingly pressed up the small of your back to the corners of your shoulder blades.

You turned your head, your temple resting on the pillow and hooking onto the warmth of the eyes peering from over your shoulder. His hair was fluffy, curly strands of nutmeg underscoring the ivory of his face. A somnolent smile pulled up the corners of your lips at the sight of him, your lashes drifting close when he assailed another kiss at the corner by your ear. He trailed off with dulcet sigh, intruding the silence.

“Y/N.” You snapped your irises open, solidifying the honey and swiveling your body at the urgency laced between his vowels. You lay back, ogling the boy hovering over your flushed body. His mouth went to open, ready to vocalize, yet you brought your hand up, gingerly placing your palm on his cheek, promptly barring him silent.

“It’s five a.m., do you realize that?”

Peter shook his head bashfully, captivating his bottom lip between his teeth, instinctively leaning into the amenity of your tender touch. You pushed yourself up from the linen to reach him, intertwining your other hand through the flat coils of his ruffled hair.

“No, I…” The boy paused, unsure of how to put his epiphany into the form of words. “I just had to see you.”

You beamed with vehemence, shifting and bringing his body down to lay beside yours. You leant your head amidst his chest, sighing affectionately when you felt his fingers brush against the underside of your jaw. The serenity of your euphoria filtered the room with a haze of golden warmth.

“Y/N?”

You hummed a response, enduring in the ardor of his being.

“I-I need to tell you something.”

“Mhm?”

You could feel him hesitating, his tongue rolling slack as he held the words before they fell prostrate onto you. As encouragement, you traced your hand over the ivory skin of his arm, pleasuring in the ripple as he shivered.

“I-I’m leaving.”

You sat up briskly, your eyes wide and doe-like as you peered down at him, lips parted with unfounded words. The slight furrow of your brows spurred him on, and he too straightened up. “What?”

“W-Well for Mr. Stark, I-I need to go.” You watched intently as he took in his bottom lip, the intensity in his eyes sparring with your own. “I have a chance, finally! It’s in Germany and-“

“Germany?” Your heart dropped, emitting a gasp as Peter persisted his ramble. You didn’t know what to say when his words had found their demise in the silence of your bedroom. Tears that had contrived in your worried eyes soon slipped down, and you had to take the wobbling of your bottom lip between your teeth. Peter noticed almost instantly, taking your hands in his and ever so gently brushing the pad of his thumb back and forth to ease their trembles.

“What are you thinking, Peter? To put yourself that head on in danger? You don’t even have a proper suit a-and you’re just going to run blindly into s-something because Mr. Stark wants you to?”

“Y/N,” he murmured, wiping your tears with his free hand. His palm cradled around the curve of your jaw, delicately placing a strand of hair behind your ear that had become captive in the stickiness of your cheeks. “Let me do this, okay? I... I have to do this. Nothing bad will happen to me. Mr. Stark won’t allow that.”

“Y-You don’t know that!” You spoke. It came as a whisper, yet frightened and laced with worry. “While you’re out there, you can’t guarantee your safety. Neither can Mr. Stark!”

His response was immediate, pulling you back down into his chest, muffling your despairs as you latched onto his torso. All you could let him do was guide his hand up the small of your back, massaging the skin in a voiceless endeavor of comforting your worries.

“You’ll come back to me in one piece, right?” Your words were whispered and innocent as your forefinger traced invisible patterns in the divot of his collarbone.

Peter was quiet for a moment, before besoothing your burdens. He reveled down at you, wrapping his arms around you so tightly that there was no room for anything else. No pain, no anguish, just love. And you marveled at the fact.

sunshine smile → t.h

SUMMARY: in which you can’t fall asleep. bestfriends!au

WARNINGS: anxiety & fluff. written in third person rather than second.

She stared at the peeling paint of the ceiling in the darkness of her bedroom, the whirring of the fan quietly humming in her ears, creating a soft white noise. She’s burrowed down under a comforter and a blanket of silver light.

Besides from that, it was absolutely silent, causing a small bit of panic to arise from the young girl . Her doe-like irises widened, and flickered neurotically as she waited for the night to come to an end.

It was 1:42 am, the time in the morning where her mind began to run feral and out of control. One minute it's firm in her grasp, and the next it's sprinting away at a pace that made its meaning indecipherable and incoherent.

There it was, climbing her bookshelf. There it was, swinging from the drapes.

Sighing, she buried her face into her pillow, her felt sheets a tangle between her legs. A street lamp from outside slightly illuminated her room, casting long shadows behind her furniture and across her sanctuary. The bathroom light flickered.

Other than that, her room was pitch black, blanketed by the moons light, a soft tear in the black silk of the sky. The night grew older and the air grew colder. Still, she waited, yearning for that dark silence inside the bud of life, everything unknown.

"Tom?" she whispered, breaking the dead buzzing that hung about in the room.

There's a rustling noise, followed by a soft groan from the boy that slept on the floor. Y/N frowned, pulling her bottom lip in between her teeth. There were no more sounds, and it was several minutes before the girl decided to speak once again.

"Tom?" she inquired a bit more loudly. He shot up, pupils wide as the sleeping bag falls from his chest. She could hear his heavy breathing, suddenly feeling guilty for waking him up.

"Y/N?" he shifted towards her, head perked at the girl who sunk down into the mattress of her bedding. Her fingers were intertwined together as they laid upon her chest, moving slightly with each breath that seemed so hard to take. "What's wrong? Are you alright?"

The girl squinted her eyelids together, teeth still pressed down onto her lip. She laid still, waiting for the boy to lie back down again and fall asleep. But she knew that wouldn't happen. Hearing Tom stand up and the pitter-patter of his feet on the floorboards, sounding like the festering thunder in the annual spring showers.

Y/N felt the bed divot beside her, the boy sighing quietly as he rested his head on a soft cream pillow, the crescent of honey locks that graced his head spreading about, framing his face. The girl turned her head towards him, the moons light highlighting his cheekbones. He looked as if he were glowing.

"I know you're looking at me," the boy whispered after a while, eyes lids still fluttering slightly as they stared upwards.

She immediately felt a warmth spread across her face, grateful for the minimal light that hid her crimson flesh. Turning her head away, she let a small smirk crawl onto Tom’s face. He shifted his whole figure, lying upon his side, hipbones digging into the mattress of the bed. The moon dipped tresses sat amidst his forehead, sticking up every which way. From the corner of her eyes, Y/N still found herself absolutely entranced.

Being best friends with him had its perks, Sunday sleep overs, exclusive backstage action, and early morning cafe visits were the norm. But when she found herself growing feelings for him, she knew she had completely and utterly doomed herself.

"Why aren't you asleep?"

Y/N's heart palpitated as she noticed Tom reach towards her hand, interlacing their fingers.

"Can't." she mumbled, lips forming the vowels so quietly the boy beside her almost didn't hear it.

With a surge of sudden boldness, he grasped the girl's arm, pulling her close to him. Her head rested on his chest, both shocked by his action.

"Just close your eyes," Tom reassured, the calming words muffled by Y/N's hair. She nodded slightly, swallowing away the pit that started to form in her throat, constricting her from movement of any sort. It wasn't like Tom to be so intimate with her.

Yet she wasn’t complaining.

Unconsciously, she slipped her arm over his chest, the rise and fall of her own falling in sync with him. The only thing between them were a knot of cotton sheets and a barrier of friendship that had yet to be broken.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THIS DORK

don’t you lose → p.p

SUMMARY: you ultimately decide that peter’s life is worth saving over yours, and it takes a sacrifice that may destroy everything you ever knew and loved.

WARNINGS: death, angst. so. much. goddamn. angst. also this is my first post. lets see how this goes...

Everything had fallen into place so quickly, you hadn’t had the time to think about what you were even doing.

In fact, it was unusual. The sensation of it all. The careless throw as your body slammed down on the cemented sidewalk. The sounds of snapping bones followed by a blistering silence was all that you could make of upon the impact. In no way had you expected the feeling to encompass your entire body. Not the pain, but the burning numbness that paralyzed your limbs and made your sight turn foggy.

It all seem so stupid now. You knew the plan was in no other way but suicidal. You knew that pushing the boy to the side to take what was supposed to be his blow would end up with you injured in one way or another. And now, the twisted, jagged pieces of what used to be your combat staff protruded from your abdomen, peaking through the hindsight of your fading vision. You could feel the building pressure on your lungs, the bubbling air in your chest and dribbling blood from the corner of your lips with nowhere to go. The sharp taste of copper was prominent, layering your tongue and the back of your throat. It didn’t even have to take a genius to realize what the pouring liquid was from your lower torso.

You used to think, that in this moment, you’d feel a swell of pride overtake the agonizing pain. You used to think that you wouldn’t have minded when or how you died, as long as what you were doing benefited those in the future. But there was none of that. No triumph and no victorious battle cries. If you were completely honest, there was just one person that consumed your thoughts at this very moment, which you figured was rewarded by your ongoing selfishness. It was mostly just blind panic, coated with the stubbornness that you had carried your whole life through, sweetened by your act to keep the one you loved hanging on just a little bit longer. Despite the silence, the nauseating ringing that echoed in your head, you could still hear his gutting screams as you managed to push him to the side. You had stolen what was his, redirecting the blow from him onto yourself. It’s not like you minded, anyways, you were just focused on protecting him.

It wasn’t until you heard a shout of relief that you finally managed to realize you earned a sliver of your hearing back. You let yourself calm, watching as his face materialized above you, hoping you weren’t imagining the boys features as he kneeled next to your quivering body.

This lead you to smile. It had worked. He was alive.

A strange feeling of peace washed over you, grinning stained teeth as you breathed out his name.

“Peter...”

The blood that gurgled up from your throat made his name seem more of a choked sob than a relieved sigh. He leaned in closer, hands fluttering over your body as if he didn’t know where to place them. Lazily, you reached up your palm, letting him tightly grasp it and interlace your trembling fingers. You watched as his eyes took in your sight, pretending not to notice as they widened in pure horror.

“I used to hope I’d look decent for the last time you’d see me.”

It was a nonchalant joke, one that sparked a pain up your spine and threw you into a merciless coughing fit. Peter didn’t laugh. Instead, his lips twitched down as he watched a single tear of blood slip down your chin. The panic was highlighted in his eyes as he brought his face closer to your own.

“W-What are you talking about?” You could hear the sob that threatened to emit from his throat, noticing the extravagant amount of effort it took to keep his voice barely steady. “D-Don’t talk like that. You l-look great!”

He pretended to brush the situation aside, but you could see the real message behind his words, convincing himself that there was a chance you’d be able to survive this. Even you could tell that that was unlikely.

Peter was quick to accept the other palm that you had then extended in his direction, wrapping his fingers around your wrist and pulling you into his lap, sliding his other arm underneath to support your shoulders. Even that slight movement made you shudder, wrenching out a groan.

Peter began to apologize profusely, and yet you were able to silence him with the slightest upturn of your lips. You suddenly felt warmer, the churning in your stomach slowly dissipated, and your vision swam with the boys eyes that stared above you. This new angle somehow made it just a bit easier to catch your breath.

“I’m not sorry,” you heaved, finding it difficult to catch enough air to complete even the simplest of sentences. “Y-You’re safe, t-that’s all that-t matters.”

“Shh,” he coaxed, fingers tightening around your wrist even more so. “You’ll be fine. You’ll be okay. We’ll make it make to the Tower, and you’ll get better.”

You locked eyes onto his own, the fierceness behind those bloodshot irises almost made you want to believe in what he was saying.

Almost.

You sighed, shuddering breaths wracking your chest. “You k-know that is never going-g to h-happen...”

There just wasn’t enough time.

The panic that settled upon his face clutched at your heart. You did your best at a subtle smile, but the red bubbles that seeped through your teeth seemed to have the opposite effect of your attempt to coax him.

“Stop it,” he seethed, growing frustrated at the obvious fact that there was nothing he could do to help you. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

Peter closed his eyes, pressing his forehead to your temple and letting out a shuddering breath that grazed warmth against your neck. He hiccuped, a feeble act to suppress his sobs. “It was supposed to be me.”

He could feel the quake in your fingers as you released his hand, bringing yours to rest upon the line of his jaw. Peter tilted his face, nose lightly brushing up against your own.

You felt the first tear on your cheek, the rest that had precariously settled upon his eyelids letting loose. His bottom lip quivered against your skin, no longer being able to suppress the sobs that wracked his chest.

“I’m still here,” you managed to splutter out, your poorly oxygenated lungs struggling to keep up with the simple words. It was hard, wanting to stare into his eyes until your vision faded completely. And yet his were scrunched closed, nuzzled into the hair that splayed across his lap.

“This is my fault,” he choked. “I should have been more careful.”

Peter sucked in hard, the sharp breath slicing through his body. You let your hand rest from his cheek, watching as it left red smudges in its wake. You almost wanted to laugh, but it was hard to find the energy to do so.

“I was there,” you sighed. When did your head become to feel so lightheaded? “I chose...”

You found breathing to quickly become a problem once again, the angle only letting you hold on for so much longer. It was almost as if you could feel the cavity in you chest slowly collapsing.

“I chose you.” The last word was a struggle to finish off, sending your body into a fit of wet coughs.

Peters grip tightened around you, cradling you in his chest. His arms had you wrapped up on his battered body, face nuzzled to the hollow of your neck. You could feel him trembling, the wetness of his tears that buried themselves in your hair. But you hadn’t minded, all you felt was his heartbeat on your own, and the unusually slow pace of the beating underneath your rib cage.

“I love you.” It was a soft whisper that emitted from your lips. Nonetheless, it was steady.

“I love you, too.”

You felt the ghost of his lips flutter by your ear as his words caressed your skin. There was a pull of a smile on his face, and you would have masked his own if you could have found the energy.

“Don’t you lose.”

The words came to him like a deadweight, the final realization that you weren’t going to make it past the next minute. But you didn’t want to focus on that, you only wanted to focus on him. The slightest smell of his cologne that filled your nose, bringing you to know how dearly you would miss that scent. You focused on his hands that held you close, his breath brushing your cheek, and the lips that kissed your skin. You sank into the embrace, feeling your body mold to his, your breathing gradually become slower and slower.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

You felt him shift, locking onto his eyes once more before he dipped his head, melding his lips to your own.

You focused on his heartbeat, on the life that he gave you in your final moments. The steady beat guided you away from him, and you let out a sob as you buried your face into his chest.

Peter stiffened, you could feel it, the atmosphere becoming unusually silent. All you heard was him, and that was alright with you. You could hear his heart, his breaths, his wrenching sobs he fought so hard to hang on to. But even then you could feel yourself slipping away, sinking further into his arms, into his warmth.

“I won’t...” You reminisced his voice, closing your eyes. The weight of keeping them open had become unbearable. “I won’t lose.”

The ghost of a smile played on your lips, the ceasing of your breaths was enough to let Peter emit a bloodcurdling cry.

“I’ll win this,” you heard him croak, just before the blackness took you over completely. Just before you felt the warmth he gave you disappear. “Only because of you.”