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hollandsfavbabe · 2 months

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Peter's Precarious Polyjuice Potion - part 1

pairing: peter parker x stark!reader

synopsis: in which you and peter are forced to take extreme lengths to protect your secret relationship with the help of your shape shifting powers

warnings: a little suggestive language, lot's of fluff, lack of impulse control, extreme secrecy

word count: 5.7k

masterlist

a/n: Just a quick psa: this is going to be the first of two parts and the second is nearly finished! I tried to make it a one shot, but it was wayyy too long. There are some mentions of Harry Potter, obviously by the title, but no major spoilers and I want to make it very clear that I DO NOT support JK Rowling nor her transphobia. Trans women are women and trans men are men🏳‍⚧! That being said, I have another little surprise in the works that may have something to do with the wizarding world...

If you want to know what it is (and maybe get a sneak peak) comment your favorite character from the series and make a guess as to who you think mine might be. I'll reveal it with the next part of this series.

Thanks and enjoy!

Was there anything better than a chilly winter morning with the one you love most? Absolutely, a chilly winter morning with the one you love most and Harry Potter in the background. That’s all you could think of as your fuzzy sock clad feet padded across the campus floor.

The festive season’s aroma invaded your senses as you managed to steal the first four films from your father’s extensive DVD collection without being caught, the cover of the first one glinting in the light that flooded in from the wall of windows encasing Avenger’s campus as you admired how young the cast used to look and made your way to your boyfriend’s bedroom.

Suddenly, the usual quiet of the campus in the early morning was disturbed by the sound of footsteps of another Avenger in the distant halls and using your powers you immediately concealed the DVDs into a stack of school notebooks and a folder of overflowing miscellaneous papers as a facade. It wasn’t unusual for you to use your gifts this way.

It was only five years prior during a mission in the Czech Republic that you were introduced to Peter Parker and while everyone had expected the two of you to get along as teens of the same age, no one knew just how close you and Peter really were. The rule had initially started at Stark Tower as a branch off of one of your father’s household rules: no dating superheroes. You thought he would be less strict as your life became centered around them, as did his, but you had no such luck. There was little chance Tony Stark would ever change the rules set for his little girl. So you were left to bend them instead.

While you and Peter seemed like close friends, you only started out as a platonic couple before your relationship escalated faster than either of you could’ve anticipated into something more fulfilling than you could’ve ever hoped for. Peter became your everything. Before you knew it, he was your rock. He was the first person you wanted to share a new dirty joke with or an unlocked childhood memory or even complain to when your father became too restricting. It was so much easier for the both of you to be together during high school. Being a college sophomore made your relationship much more complicated. Especially seeing as Peter stayed close to home at NYU and you left town to attend MIT (your father would never let you go anywhere else).

With campuses that were over a 4 hour drive away from each other, you and Peter only got the occasional three day weekend to spend with each other and that was only when you were able to evade spending time with your dad by making up an excuse as to why you couldn’t come home and held your ground until you had to eventually cave to his demands. The only time you and Peter really got together was during holiday breaks when you two could both be at the campus and sneak around like smitten teenagers all over again. With only three weeks, you were determined not to waste a single second with so little time, even if it meant using your shapeshifting ability to disguise wizard school movies as chemistry homework. What could be suspicious about two close friends sharing notes about stoichiometry?

You felt your heart start back up as Natasha passed you in the hallway instead of your father, shooting you a smile.

“Morning, y/n.” she greeted pausing to look at your stack of folders with a look of confusion.

“Uhh, good morning.” you croaked, praying that there wasn’t some defect in your ability that allowed her to see a portion of the one of the movies you were disguising. Thankfully, your facade held.

“Homework? Really? This early on a saturday?”

You gulped as you nodded.

“You know me,” you forced a smile. “I’m actually on my way to wake Peter up so we can review together.”

“Good for you,” she nodded, impressed. “Breakfast should be in a couple hours if you two want a break. Try not to get bored!”

“Thanks?” You shrugged before continuing off to where you knew Peter’s room was, conveniently all the way on the other side of the building from your own. Soon enough you were at Peter’s door, turning the knob and entering without knocking, quick to shut it behind you to prevent anyone else from seeing how eager you were to ‘study.’ Surrounded by the comfortable closed walls of privacy, you let your platonic friend disguise fall and set the stack of papers on the edge of Peter’s bed.

Your boyfriend was still tucked beneath the covers, as was expected. You two had made your marathon plans ages ago and after losing several rounds of rock paper scissors, Peter’s room was made the place of the marathon meaning it was your job to wake him up. Overall you thought it best as you were more natural at lying (literally as you were aided by shape shifting powers) and a little more strategic when it came to social interaction and plotting.

You neared the stirring boy, his sleep disrupted by the clatter of the discs and the movement of his bed as you sat down to kiss him.

“Peterrr…” you whispered, hovering above him with an unshakable grin etched upon your face. “Wake up.”

You awoke him by placing a soft kiss on his nose and smiling down on him as he furrowed his eyebrows in aversion. It wasn’t until his eyes fluttered open that he grinned as he saw you and craned his head up to kiss you properly, his lips soft against yours, slipping a hand up from under the covers to cup your cheek.

“Morning.” he greeted, smiling affectionately as he sat up against the wall behind his pillow, pulling you into his lap so that he could kiss you once more. That was until he took a look at what you had brought, books and paper for studying. He cringed, pulling you closer and kicking up his covers in disgust.

“Oo no. I refuse to study on a Saturday. Can’t we save that for the last minute like every other time we’re together?” his lips turned into a sly grin as they neared yours once more.

You laughed as his complaint sparked many memories, most of you both tangled up together out of what started as procrastination, but ended up in unbridled desire that poured out after being built up each time you were away from one another for too long.

“Nice try, Parker. And here I thought we’d have a nice time today. Don’t you remember our plans?”

As you gesture to the folders and notebook on the edge of his bed they instantly shrunk back to their original form. All of a sudden, instead of the obnoxious red notes and blue folders filled with paperwork were the four DVDs with their easily recognizable covers that screamed nostalgia. Peter’s face lit up instantly, a mix of excitement and relief as his morning amnesia faded away. But even still, his seductive grin returned as he slid you further up his lap.

“We can’t start just a teeny bit later?” he teased, his fingers sending chills down your spine as they glided up the sides of your thighs. One of the downsides of how long you two had been together was that Peter knew exactly how to bend you to his will. “I think I’d rather spend our first morning together a little differently.”

He leaned in for another kiss, but instead of meeting your lips in the middle, his mouth was met with your finger as you pulled away and sat next to him, placing a chaste kiss on his cheek before shuffling into his comforter. It was by luck that your Stark genes made you extraordinarily stubborn and resistant to his persistence.

“Maybe later. Right now I am seriously craving a Hogwarts escape,” you lightly pushed Peter towards the DVDs, hinting that he would have to be the one to pop it into the reader. You teased him as he left his bed, grinning wickedly. “Besides, Harry’s wand is way bigger than yours.”

Peter’s head whipped around as the previews started to roll on the flat screen TV behind him that could be found in every resident room on the campus.

“Hey,” he pouted, though there was still enough of a smile left that you were sure he knew you were only kidding. He settled beside you, tucking an arm behind your head so you could rest on him as you normally did when you shared a room. “It’s hard to compete with 11 inches.”

After skipping through each advertisement for movies that had come out over a decade ago and finally selecting the play option on the movie menu, Peter planted a soft kiss on your forehead as the movie finally began and the familiar notes of the main theme played from the speakers.

“I think you should wake me up like this every morning.” he mumbled into your skin.

“I think that would be nice.” you agreed and nuzzled closer into him.

You two spent the entire first movie just like that, two nerds wrapped up in each other so close that you could hear each other's heartbeats, but so involved in the film that you didn’t get distracted by the distant pulsing of them.

“I think I'd make a great chaser.” you confessed during Harry’s first quidditch game.

“No, I think you’ve got it all wrong,” Peter argued. “I’d make a great chaser. You’d definitely be a beater. I mean legally hitting people off of flying brooms in a competitive wizard sport? If that isn’t right up your alley, I don’t know what is.”

“You’re right.” you agreed right before Harry crash landed into the sand, the golden snitch popping out of his mouth.

It was after the first movie that you started feeling peckish and by the way Peter squirmed to change positions every few seconds, you could tell he was feeling the same. Two hours awake without any food was an abnormal event for you and as a result your stomach was growling loudly. As you had other needs to attend to, you excused yourself and offered to grab the two of you something from the kitchen to snack on during the rest of your marathon.

“I’ll get it babe, you can stay in bed.” Peter offered, sitting up with you as you stood from his bed.

“That’s alright,” you assured him, handing him the disc to the second movie and the sleek black remote that controlled the monitor. “I’ve got to go to the bathroom so I’ll grab it on my way back.”

Peter laid back, his hands coming behind his head on the pillow as he eyed you on your way to the door. You smiled at him in confusion, wondering why he was admiring you so when all you were doing was fetching food.

“What?” you questioned, sliding on a sweatshirt over your pajamas.

“Sometimes I can’t believe we’re together,” he admitted. “You’re way too good for me.”

You giggled at his honesty as you moved towards the door.

“Are you still trying to sleep with me?” you teased.

“No,” he admitted, shaking his head adamantly. “...but I’m not opposed to the idea.”

You rolled your eyes playfully as you turned to leave, chuckling to yourself.

“I’ll be back soon. You can save the sweet talk for then.”

Though you couldn’t see his face, you could picture Peter’s smile as you shut the door behind you and meandered to the bathroom closest to the Avenger’s kitchen before starting towards the food.

As promised, the breakfast feast awaiting you smelled gloriously of hot buttered pancakes, sweet maple syrup, and so many other wonderful items. You prepared a lie to explain Peter’s absence as you entered the kitchen and grabbed a plate, when suddenly, the voice of your dad sounded from behind you.

“Ahh, y/n!” he startled you, causing you to drop your plate back on the stack of white porcelain where you had just barely plucked it from.

“Hi dad,” you forced a smile, turning to face him. “What’s going on?”

“I’ve been looking for you. C’mon, it’s family meeting time.” he stated casually. You realized then that the dining hall was eerily empty for a Saturday morning. The weekly buffet was normally packed with superheroes or at least a starving Thor. You furrowed your brows in confusion, never before having heard of any such meeting as you followed after your father.

“Family meeting? What about breakfast?”

“It can wait. I’ve got something we need to discuss.” you dad explained as he opened the tempered glass door to one of the many meeting rooms at the campus which was normally reserved for more professional causes.

“Okay. I’ll get Peter.”

“No time, come with me. Peter’s not invited to this one.” your father informed you as he grabbed your arm, pulling you with him inside of the meeting room where every chair was already filled by various heroes who also resided at the campus. You gave a small wave to those who cared to acknowledge your arrival and wandered to stand in a corner at the back of the room while your father took up the front. From what you could tell, everyone else was as confused as you were. You pulled out your phone just before it commenced, giving you enough time to shoot Peter a quick text explaining your prolonged absence.

I might be awhile

That’s fine. Take your time.

You fought the urge to smile at your boyfriend’s message as you slipped your phone into your pocket and looked up to your father who was commanding everyone’s attention.

“Thank you for coming, everyone. Really, I appreciate it.”

You recognize a feminine scoff from the right of the table, Natasha shaking her head, a fearful gesture from your main combat trainer. It was a general rule around the Campus, along with don’t introduce Steve Rodgers to ASMR: don’t get Natasha Romanoff angry unless you want to be dead.

“Cut the bullshit Tony. We’re all too tired and hungry to be here for longer than necessary. Get to the point. Why are we here?”

Others voiced their agreement and Tony put his hands up.

“Fine. I prepared a nice little welcome speech for you all, but I guess I’ll skip to my main point. You’re welcome by the way.”

Natasha rolled her eyes.

“The reason I’ve gathered you here today is to discuss a serious matter concerning one of our youngest recruits who I’ve purposefully made sure is not in attendance - ” he stated as he pressed one of the buttons on the controller to the meeting room monitor, the picture popping up on the screen of a face that was all too familiar to you with tousled brown hair and chocolate eyes. “- Mr. Peter Parker.”

Your heart stopped as you heard your boyfriend's name roll off your fathers lips. From a lifetime of knowing him you were sure whatever he wanted to discuss couldn’t be good. You tried your best to not look so shocked and managed to keep a neutral expression as you mirrored Bucky who did not care for the conversation whatsoever. In fact, his expression resembles that of someone who was desperate to deck someone.

“Ah yes! The Man of Spiders!” Thor called out, quite possibly the only Avenger who seemed to be not in the least bit irritated.

“Yep, that’s the one. Here’s the thing,” Tony began as you braced yourself. “It has been two years since he graduated high school. That means he’s had two whole years of college life to get out there and make some new connections, to be a kid! But instead he comes home late every night and is always so exhausted. He’s working way too hard. So I propose that we help our little spiderling find someone he can lean on and turn to. Someone who can really help him slow down and start to be himself. It’s time we help Peter get a girlfriend.”

Your eyes shot open as his words hit you, you had to force your hands to stay down and try not to react too much. You looked around at the reactions of the others, searching for someone who may agree with you, but much to your disappointment, no one seemed as against it as you were. It seemed the topic of helping Peter made the annoyance of the meeting more tolerable and many Avengers were nodding their heads in agreement. Thor especially as he hollered in his seat in clear support.

“Yes! Wonderful idea! A lady spider! Tis like those Midgardean movies that are so popular around this time of year! What do you call them? Wrong-Cons?”

Everyone looked around in confusion.

“Thor is referring to the movie genre of romantic comedies or rom-coms.” Vision explained. With the confusion cleared others started agreeing more.

“Yes, the boy needs a break,” Wanda concurred. “And I love a good rom-com.”

“He works too hard.” nodded Nat.

Others started muttering to their neighbors how they also agreed as you shook your head in utter disbelief.

You pushed off from your place on the wall, quickly gathering the attention of the others as you joined your dad at the front.

“Are you guys crazy?” you laughed nervously. “Peter doesn’t need a girlfriend! Yes, he can be hard on himself sometimes and I agree he needs a break, but that doesn’t mean you should try and shove something in his life that he has never shown any liking towards.” you explain, trying your best to sound as unsuspecting as possible.

Here in the crowd of adults, you were only Peter’s best friend and you wished to keep them in the dark for as long as possible, especially considering your father forbid you from growing a closer connection to Peter.

To your surprise, another Avenger stood to back your point as the Winter Soldier himself took on the crowd.

“She’s got a point, Tony.” Bucky agreed.

“Yes! Thank you!” you smiled, gesturing at Bucky a little too excitedly.

“We shouldn’t force the boy into something if there’s no confirmation of his own interest,” the Winter Soldier restated, earning a nod of encouragement from you. “There’s probably a reason he hasn’t gotten a girlfriend and I think we should leave him to discover himself if you know what I mean.”

“No, no that’s not what I meant,” at once you started refuting his claim. “Peter’s not gay, he’s just not interested in dating.”

“So he’s asexual? Is that what it’s called nowadays?” Steve asked, his tiny notebook of modern definitions at the ready as he pulled a pen from the pocket of his flannel pajama bottoms. He too had only just woken up.

“No. I mean yes that is a real and valid sexual identity and some people don’t have a desire to be with someone romantically, but that’s not Peter. He’s interested, just not right now.”

“How can we trust that the Tiny Stark knows what she says of the Man of Spiders?” Thor quirked a brow at your claims. You nearly blew up at him as he asked, glaring at the rest of the room on the edge of insanity from the thought of them shipping off your boyfriend to be with another.

“I’m his best friend, okay?! And I know him better than any of you so I know for a fact that he doesn’t need a girlfriend right now!”

Your father grasped your shoulder gently, a weak attempt at calming you down.

“That was exactly my next point. You’re his best friend and you’re right. You know him way better than any of us.” your father agreed. You gave him a thankful smile, glad to finally have him on your side.

“Thanks, dad-”

“That’s exactly why you’ll be out intel and our connection to Peter in ‘Operation Pair Parker.’ That way he won’t suspect anything.” he interrupted with a proud expression.

You stared at him with wide eyes.

“You already named it!? You’re kidding right? You have to be kidding. You all know this is just unbelievably crazy right?” you asked the crowd.

“I don’t see a reason why not. It’ll be good for the kid to have someone.” Natasha disagreed and by the disapproving looks from the others, you could tell her opinion was shared by the majority.

“Exactly. See everyone gets it and we need you to carry it all out,” your father continued. “I already have a few people in mind that I can pair him with. The only reason to not to would be if you know something we don’t. Peter isn’t seeing anyone, right y/n?” your father eyed you, suspicious of your relentless attitude towards his thought out plan. You knew you couldn’t own up to it, the risk of discovery was much too great, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t anything you could do to shut down Operation Pair Parker.

“Well, I didn’t want to expose Peter since he’s only just barely told me-” you began, hardly believing the words were leaving your lips. “-but he has been seeing someone and I think it’s getting pretty serious.”

“Oh really? And who is this girl?” your father interrogated.

“Or boy.” Bucky added.

“It’s a girl,” you clarified, hurrying to think of exactly you could pin Peter’s secret relationship on without creating too much damage. “Her name is um, MJ!” you exclaimed as the name came to you. It was perfect too as she was one of your best friends and someone Peter could’ve easily hypothetically gotten with ages ago.

“You mean the overwhelmingly unenthusiastic girl that Peter has only ever talked about once?” You could tell by his raised eyebrow and narrowed eyes that Tony didn’t believe you, but there was still time to convince him. And you would do anything to end this scheme.

“Yep,” you gritted your teeth, letting out a fake laugh that you hoped sounded convincing enough. “That’s the one, good old MJ. You know what they say, opposites attract.”

Tony wasn’t fazed as the intensity of his suspecting expression lingered on.

“You sure he isn’t seeing someone he’s closer to? You’re not dating him right?” he questioned, reminding you of the age old rule. Under no circumstance were you and Peter allowed to see each other. No matter how many battles you had fought together nor how many times he had protected you from harm. Not even if the world was on the brink of collapse. Never.

“Yeah, you’re acting pretty suspicious.” Sam chimed in.

“Is something up, y/n?” wondered Nat.

You burst into nervous laughter as you thought of a plausible excuse and your web of lies deepened.

“Oh, you guys are too good. You’ve got me! I have been seeing someone.”

“I knew it! Lady Stark is with the Man of Spiders!” Thor pointed accusingly towards you.

“You did not know that.” argued Wanda as Thor had been the least suspecting of all the Avengers up until your false confession. It didn’t help that he was also the most gullible.

“No! No, no, not Peter,” you scoffed, choking out a laugh. “His name is um… Flash!”

Your face burned red as you realized who’s name had just slipped out of your mouth. Oh why hadn’t you said Ned? At least you actually enjoyed spending time with Ned. But as your father’s face shifted and your lie began to work, you knew it was too late to go back now.

“Flash? You mean that boy who’s been mean to you and Peter since you were kids?” your father knew exactly who he was through years of his name popping up in counseling sessions Tonty provided to help you figure out how to defend yourself in public without using your powers.

“Yeah. He’s actually really nice once you get to know him and we’ve been together for a little while now.” you tried, changing your voice to match the same doting pitch it took on whenever you talked about Peter.

“Huh,” Tony pondered, but eventually shrugged the confession off as your lies snapped into place. He turned off Peter’s image on the monitor, leaving a blank black square in its place. “Well, in that case, the operation is off.”

“Alright, I guess that means I can go…” you smiled, ready to sneak off to finally grab some breakfast and more hidden moments with your real boyfriend.

“And date night is on!” Tony cheered unexpectedly.

Your eyes widened as your stomach dropped in realization of what you had just done. You and Peter were really in trouble now and it was all because you couldn’t admit the truth.

“Date night?” you repeated uneasily.

“To celebrate my children finding love, I want you both to invite your sweethearts over and we’ll have a big dinner so we can get to know them. Let Peter know he has to invite MJ.” specified your father which could only mean he expected you to invite Flash.

Oh shit. There was no getting out of it now.

“What a splendid idea.” deadpanned Vision who you could’ve sworn knew the truth about you and Peter as his room was next door. You almost glared at the android, but caught yourself.

“Yep, sure thing,” you grimaced, knowing that your lies would soon catch up to you. “And when is this whole thing supposed to be?” you asked, hoping it would be after the break so you and Peter could retreat to your separate schools instead of owning up. By then, you’d probably be able to come up with two break up stories so heart wrenching that the Avengers would understand why you would never want to date again.

“Let’s do tomorrow if we can. The sooner the better.” Tony proclaimed, pulling out his device from his pocket so that he could put the dinner into the following day’s agenda, scheduling it as a mandatory event.

You felt like you were gonna pass out.

“Great! I’ll just go tell Peter then. We’ll be ready!” you fake laughed as you walked off, truly dying inside as the crushing weight of what you had just done hit you.

Once you were out of sight of the Avengers (all of which started voting on what theme your dinner would be), you completely spaced picking up something to eat and sprinted down the hallway to Peter’s room. You stumbled in when you arrived, closing the door behind you and leaning on it, gasping for air from the rush.

“Hey baby,” Peter welcomed you back from his bed, lifting the remote to turn down the TV volume by a couple notches. “I hope you don’t mind, I started the second one, but we can totally rewind if you want…”

Confused by your lack of a reply, Peter looked at you and immediately sat up in bed, ignoring the film with a worry riddled face. The remote fell from his grasp and into the twisted sheets of his bed, never to be found again.

“Are you okay?”

You shook your head as you caught your breath, sliding down the door until you collapsed on the floor.

“No, Peter. Something terrible just happened and it’s all my fault.” you cried and curled to tuck your head into your lap. You weren’t quite to the point of tears, but it was enough distress to alert your boyfriend.

Peter sprung off his bed with a start, swinging his legs to the edge so that he could fully face you, but he was apprehensive about approaching your sullen form.

“Is it your period? Is that why you took so long? I knew I should have come to check on you…”

“No, I’m not on my period and I didn’t spend all that time in the bathroom. This is so much worse than that.” you lifted your head to speak so the words didn’t come out jumbled, but as soon as you had finished, your face returned to your lap.

Peter stood and neared you slowly, placing his hands on your forearms and squeezing you comfortingly as you lifted your head.

“I’m sure it can’t be that bad,” he assured you. “What is it?”

You inhaled deeply before rushing out a summary of the events that had taken place only moments before.

“Long story short, my dad was trying to hook you up with someone because he thinks you're so sad and lonely lately so I tried to get him off your back and now he thinks that you’re dating MJ and I’m dating Flash and we have to invite them to a big dinner with all the Avengers tomorrow.” you sputtered in one breath, gasping by the end.

“WHAT?!”

“I KNOW!”

“How are we supposed to do that? I mean maybe MJ would agree if she were even in town… maybe, but we can’t invite Flash here!”

“I know!”

“Why didn’t you say Ned?!”

“I don’t know! That’s not the point, Peter. What I’m saying is that we need to come up with something fast.”

“I think we should just tell him.” Peter confessed, not one to share your disregard for the truth. Instead, he imagined a future where he could be more open with his teammates about the love you shared, maybe even rub it into Sam and Bucky’s faces as the three held a long standing rivalry since an opposing battle at a German airport. “Better fess up now.”

“NO! Peter, my dad will KILL US if he finds out we’re together!” you shut down his suggestion, too afraid of the consequences to even contemplate telling the truth. “We’ve got to come up with something better, I can’t let him win this.”

“Ugh, you Starks and your stubbornness.” Peter groaned. While he was well informed of your father’s rule, he didn’t understand why the two of you were so competitive, especially when it came to ethicality.

“I just wished there was a way we could pull it off without inviting either of them.” you pouted, staring off into the distance when the scene playing on the screen caught your eye.

The meeting had lasted so long that while you were gone, Peter had managed to watch up to Harry, Ron, and Hermione’s secret potion escapades in the abandoned girls’ bathroom.

“Add the hairs.” directed Hermione as the golden trio sprinkled the strands into their separate goblets of green sludge, so young in only the second film in the saga.

“You're right,” Peter sighed, his attention turning to the movie at the same time as you. “Things would be so much easier if we were wizards and could make Polyjuice Potion.”

Suddenly an idea popped into your head.

“Peter! That’s it! You’re a genius.” you exclaimed, pulling away from his hold and running across the room to his closet, flipping excitedly through his collection of colored flannels.

“Thanks,” Peter blushed, moving to sit on his bed once more. “Why exactly am I a genius this time?”

Your smile widened as you came upon it, Peter’s darkest flannel that distantly resembled something your dear friend MJ would wear. You pulled it on and discarded the hanger, throwing it haphazardly to another corner of the room as you looked at your boyfriend. You beamed at him as if you had just won the lottery. For a skilled liar, stringing together a new fake story was almost as accomplishing.

“Can I borrow this?” you asked.

“Of course,” Peter obliged. “You know how I feel about you wearing my clothes. Can I just ask why this in particular?”

“We can’t ask MJ or Flash to attend themselves so we’ll just have to become them instead!”

“What do you mean?” Peter asked.

You closed your eyes and concentrated, picturing MJ in your mind and spreading your arms out from your body as the familiar tingling sensation started and your body began to change from the will of your shape shifting powers. Before long, you began to resemble the quiet girl from your school. Your hair grew longer and curled into her familiar pattern as your jawline sharpened and your limbs lengthened until the girl standing in front of Peter was no longer his girlfriend, but the one and only Michelle Jones.

You opened your eyes that now resembled her dark brown ones and smiled at him, something MJ would never do. Peter’s own face lit up as he realized what you meant.

“That’s even better than Polyjuice Potion!” he grinned, watching you nod as you looked yourself top to bottom, satisfied with the extent of your abilities.

“I think we can make this work.” you stated, moving towards Peter who was gazing at you with admiration.

“You just need to master her facial expressions. MJ would never smile that much.”

You closed your eyes again and took a deep breath as you let your smile fade away to capture MJ’s unwavering neutrality.

“That’s perfect.” Peter complimented once you had mastered it. You chuckled out of pride as your usual smile carved back onto your face along with an affectionate look as you glanced at Peter. You leaned into him, lips at the ready to peck his perfect pretty face until you were stopped by his outstretched hands.

“What?” you questioned, unused to being denied by your boyfriend.

“As much as I would love to kiss you right now, you still look like one of our best friends.” Peter explained with reddened cheeks.

“Oh right.”

Quickly, you shook off your disguised form and shifted back into yourself. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you kissed Peter and allowed him to pull you in closer by your waist, his hand sneaking up to meet the skin under his flannel. It seemed at last he would get to have his own rendition of a perfect first morning with you.

After a few moments, he lifted away from your lips with a heavy breath to ask, “Does this mean I have to be Flash?”

You sent him a guilty smile.

“Sorry babe, but we’ve gotta do what we’ve gotta do.”

part two coming soon!

109 notes · View notes

hollandsfavbabe · 4 months

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NEXT STORY!!

What should I write next? I have so many wips in my notes and I need help figuring out what I should finish:

17 notes · View notes

hollandsfavbabe · 4 months

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Where Do We Go Now

pairing: peter parker x stark!reader

synopsis: in which the death of y/n's father leaves her determined to bring him back and her boyfriend peter determined to save her

warnings: endgame aftermath, death, parental loss, isolation, suicide attempt (but magical?), it gets better - I promise

word count: 7.1k

masterlist

a/n: Hey guys. This is going to be a bit longer than my usual notes, but I feel like I should explain why I've been gone for so long and why this story is a lot sadder than my usual ones. My community has been riddled with tragedy recently as we've lost a lot of people to suicide this past year, some of which have been as young as middle school age. One of my friends died by suicide a couple months ago. I can't express to you guys how hard it's been trying to deal with the pain and the guilt his death has caused me and my loved ones. So many days have passed where I wish I could've been a better friend for him while he was here. It hurts more knowing that other people are hurting too. Writing this was the best way for me to cope for many reasons. I wanted to write about how I'm feeling and honor my friend in some way even if it's through a silly little fanfiction. I know I'm late, but I also wanted to honor one of my favorite characters, Tony Stark as he canonically died this past October. That being said, if you are struggling please, I implore you, talk to someone. There are so many people on this planet who would be so torn without you. My dms are always a safe space if you need anything at all <3

Also I'd like to thank Gracie Abrams for her music that I had on repeat the entire time I was writing this. I hope you like it!

“I am Iron Man.”

The words replayed in your head, over and over like a broken record with no one to turn it to a new tune. That’s exactly how you felt. So alone in your grief that even if miraculously every wish you'd ever made in the whole of your existence had been granted, it still wouldn’t be enough to make you happy again. To make you feel anything besides the constant regret and incessant grief that anchored you down as you wasted away in your bed.

It had been exactly a week since the passing of the great Tony Stark. Everyone else in the compound had mourned their coworker, riddled by a somewhat lesser version of your sadness for only a few days after his death. It’s not as if their grief had been washed away as if it never stained their cheeks with tears or weighed down their hearts with sorrow, but it eased much quicker than yours and before long they could continue their duties. Everything was so much harder for you because Tony hadn’t just been a coworker. He was your father.

You relieved every memory you had of him like bittersweet torture. You remembered when he held you as a little girl, wiping up a bloodied knee. When he discovered you had powers and helped you control them. Later on when he banned you from joining in on the Avenger’s Civil War and afterwards when he thanked you for sneaking in to help anyway. You could almost feel his comforting embrace as if it was only yesterday that he was assuring you before a failed battle against the mad Titan Thanos, the same one that left you dusted and missing your father’s last five years on Earth. And finally, of course, you remember his last moments all too well. It played out before you like the tragic ending of a stage play.

“Let me do it,” you shouted over the sound of war cries and carnage that surrounded you on the packed battlefield. “I can take it!”

You were almost certain that your power, your immeasurable magic, could handle the debilitating strength of the Infinity Stones making you the most reasonable choice for snapping Thanos and his army out of existence, but your father refused to risk losing his eldest.

“No,” he breathed, the metal plate shielding his chest rising and falling from the heat of the action. There was only one way to succeed, only one way to put a stop to the destruction of the universe. It had to be him. “I won’t risk losing you, not while you’re still so young. You have so much life ahead of you.”

“Not without you!” you cried, a tear streaming from your eye.

There wasn’t much time for your conversation as the world was moments away from being wiped of its human history, but despite the odds your father pulled you into a tight hug, as if he knew it would be the last. You both did.

“You are the strongest person I’ve ever known and I’m so proud of what you’ve become already.” he smiled when you finally pulled apart.

“I need you dad,” you sobbed, still reluctant to let him leave you. With the threat of his death, suddenly Thanos’ defeat didn’t matter anymore. Not nearly as much as having your father by your side. “I’m not ready.”

Your dad looked down on you with the saddest of smiles, but if any part of him was upset about his decision, he made no other hint toward it. He just held you close for as long as possible and comforted you in the way that you could always count on him for. In the way, it hit you, that you could never count on him for again. But yet, in the face of death, he cradled you close and spoke in his signature fatherly tone: assertive yet on the edge of softness.

“No one’s ever ready -,” he answered truthfully. “- but I know you can handle it. You always do.”

You looked up at him as he finally pulled away and headed towards the purple giant, but not before turning to you for one final declaration.

“I love you, junior, to the edge and back again.”

And then he was gone. You never got the chance to say it back.

Yours was the last name he uttered before his heart stopped beating and the light on his suit went out. By then Pepper had already said her goodbyes and you both were huddled close to his body, weeping as the other Avengers knelt around you in honor of your father. Peter was hunched behind you, one hand on your shoulder while the other worked to wipe away his own tears. Oh Peter, you had your father to thank for him.

It was Tony who was credited with setting you up with your long term boyfriend, Peter Parker, even if it was a complete accident. You two had gotten acquainted on a fateful plane ride to Germany and eventually ended up together after many failed attempts at confessing your feelings. There was something about him that had you smitten with him from your first encounter, your liking only strengthened when you learned that your father approved. He’d been with you through thick and thin and even now, Peter was the only person who could even remotely share your pain besides Pepper. Tony was like his father too.

He’d taken care of you ever since the incident. Brought you food and water, helped you dress in your black attire for the funeral, laid with you in your bed each night to calm you whenever you awoke in a nightmarish terror. He showed his love for you prevailing over his grief in the most selfless of ways and yet all you had managed to do since you father’s funeral was stand to use the restroom every once in a while. It piled on more weight that your poor soul could already take. You were nothing, but a miserable burden now.

The door to your room opened with squealing hinges as Peter stepped in, returning from school where he had spent the morning reuniting with your shared friends and finding out when the official return date was. You were supposed to join him, but instead you hadn’t moved an inch since he left. It wasn’t as if you wanted to waste the entire day in your lonely sheets again. You yearned for everything to go back to how it was; when Peter was happy and you could share it with him. When your father used to smile upon the two teens he didn’t mean to bring together. When your father was alive.

“Hey,” he said, softly as if not to startle you from your endless torturous pondering. He set something down on your dresser, a small stack of papers he must have gathered from the school, and removed his fall coat before sauntering over to you. The bed creaked and shifted under his weight as he took a seat next to you. “Good news, we don’t have to go back until the next semester so we get a break until January. Ned was asking about you. He wants to know how you’re doing.”

You turned your head to look at him, your eyes red-rimmed from all of your crying and your lips cracked and dry.

“What did you tell him?” you croaked, your voice hoarse from under use. There was little to talk about and no one else to talk to whenever Peter wasn’t around. Pepper had visited you once, but with Morgan to look after, she couldn’t spare much time for her late husband’s grieving daughter. You’d seen Happy a couple times as well, but he needed his own time to recover and reflect on his past time with his best friend.

Peter was gentle as he tucked some of the hair strands snot cemented to your jaw behind your ear and cupped your cheek in his palm. He was cold from the autumn chill outside, but his hand ignited the same soothing heat that his touch always brought forth.

“I said you were recovering,” he answered truthfully. “And that it’s different for everyone. And no matter how long it takes, I’m here for you every step of the way.”

The ghost of a smile graced your lips and had it not felt like it stopped beating after losing your father, your heart may have fluttered in its cavity in your chest.

“Thanks Peter,” you curled closer to him in the most sincere of ways. “But I’m afraid it’s going to be a while before I can get up to see Ned again. Give him my best.”

“Take your time. I’m sure he understands.” Peter assured before pulling off his flannel and laying down beside you to wrap you in his arms, allowing you to tuck your face in his chest. As unhappy as you were, all the swirling emotions of suffering were always suppressed by the sound of Peter’s heart and the feel of his body around yours. You stayed like that for a while, holding each other before Peter broke the silence as it neared time for your midday meal.

“I think you should come with me today,” Peter suggested, rising to run his daily lunch retrieval before running a loving hand through your hair. You couldn’t understand how he hadn’t gotten sick of you yet. You hadn’t been able to wash in over a week. “It’s not good for you to stay here all day long. You need to start moving.”

His voice was full of worry, though he wasn’t overbearing. He wanted the best for you, it’s all he ever wanted really.

“I don’t know Peter, I don’t think I can.” you sighed as tears started to fill your eyes again. How could anyone stand to be around you when you were being so pathetic. You wished there was a way to erase your pain, anything to bring you to your normal self again.

“It's okay baby,” Peter hugged you into a tight embrace, kissing your tears as they fell in slow salty streams. “I know it hurts, I feel it too. But I read somewhere that the best thing to do is keep a consistent routine. Maybe you should start today. Come get lunch with me.”

You wanted to agree, but there was no part of you that could move from the weight of your grief. It pressed you down, gravity multiplied by the mass of your sadness as it consumed you. It felt as if only a miracle could save you now.

“I’m so sorry.” you stated with remorse, but Peter made no move to share his disappointment if he had any at all. Instead he leaned down from his seated position and placed his lips on your forehead, a gesture as if to say that all was alright.

“Please don’t cry, y/n. It’s okay.” he assured you before standing to leave and get you something that you figured you probably wouldn’t even eat very much of.

“I’ll be right back,” he promised, turning the handle of your door to leave before looking back at you sprawled on your bed. Suddenly, as if he had recalled the cure to the rainiest of days, he expression shifted to one of great excitement as he stopped back into your room.

“I almost forgot,” he began. “Doctor Strange was here earlier. He wanted me to tell you he’s offering some meditation sessions for you if you’re interested. He said they’d be good for your powers and that they might help you feel better if you want to think about it. He’s free at 8 tomorrow.”

You nearly perked up at the sound of the man’s name, picking up your head to cast a last longing glance at Peter as he waited for a parting word.

“Thanks,” you managed. “I’ll let you know.”

And off Peter went to get you both something to eat.

You weren’t sure if he knew how dangerous it was for you to be left with your thoughts, how the mention of the magic doctor sprouted a myriad of mystical ideas all aimed at the same goal that would erase your eternal lonesome aching. How to bring your father back. By the time Peter returned with his hands full of two homemade sandwiches and more sweets than the two of you could ever finish in one sitting, your mind had been made up and you were ready to set the plan in motion.

The following evening was your first time out of the confines of your rooms for days. Peter had helped you greatly with all the tasks you did not have the mental power to do all on your own. He had brushed your hair and made your bed and before you left in one of the less expensive cars held on Avenger’s campus, he sent you off adorned with one of his favorite sweatshirts, a peck on the forehead and enough I love you’s to last more than a lifetime.

You pulled the sleeve of Peter’s sweatshirt over your palm as you drove off, using the cloth to wipe away fresh tears that had fallen after you left your boyfriend’s loving gaze. You’d always been an overthinker, but your bad habits crept up on you worse in your unbreakable stage of sadness. Especially in your father’s favorite car.

You didn’t understand why he hadn’t left you already. Maybe he would. Peter had offered to join you at Strange’s, but after you insisted you had to go alone, he made plans to go help his Aunt May figure out their apartment situation as the pair had been inadvertently kicked out after being gone for so many years. You’d almost forgotten he used to split his nights between the compound and his own bedroom. Recently he’d only stay with you.

He promised to be back before dinner so that the two of you could keep up your progress, but an unsolicited voice within you convinced you that he wouldn’t want to return. You weren’t good enough for him anymore, not like you used to be. Your plan was better for the both of you and as you pulled up to the familiar building on Bleecker Street, all the pieces started to fall into place.

You stepped up to the door, raising your fist to knock only for the door to crack open by itself as if to invite you in. You waited for the familiar sternness of Doctor Strange’s voice to greet you once you were past the stone floored foyer, but only wisps of the autumn breeze caught your ear.

“Strange?” you called, your voice still not stable enough to be louder than a whispery dialogue. You were met with no response. It was just like you had planned. The wizard wasn’t home.

You felt a strong tug towards the room of your desires, the forbidden library. It was as if fate was leading you or some other force from above, another sign that you were meant to do it.

Your steps were more sure than they had been in days as you made your way to the self, passing any magical fire walls with the sheer unfiltered strength of your powers. Strange once told you that they were guided by your emotion, the quintessential essence of every magic holder even to people like you and Wanda Maximoff who were outside of his world protecting wizard cult. It was easier than it should have been, like slicing paper with a katana, you broke each enchantment until all that was left was the cool leather cover of the book you were looking for. The book with every answer you needed inside its ancient yellowing pages, but you only needed the spell that would revive your father. Locating it near the middle of the book, your tore out the page and turned back to your car, leaving the Sanctum with the same unhurried pace you had entered it with. There was no stopping you now.

Peter was only an half an hour late for your agreed meet up time when he arrived at the campus. He expected you’d be in your room as per usual and as he made his way to your door, the excitement of getting to hold you and talk about your first day out of the campus since the funeral built up in his chest. He wasn’t sure if any accomplishment in the world could make him as proud as he was of you. With two brown paper bags of groceries in his hand, he couldn’t wait to shower you in the affection that you deserved with all of your favorite snacks, enough to share of course.

“Y/n,” he smiled, using his webbing to open your door handle only to find, much to his disappointment, that you were nowhere to be found.

He checked all over campus, leaving the bags by your bed. No one had seen you since you’d left and the spot where the car you’d taken was still empty, the normally pristine concrete covered in fallen crisp maroon leaves. It didn’t make any sense. Where could you possibly have gone?

“Y/n!” he called, circling the perimeter of the campus looking for you. There was still no sign of your reappearance. “Y/n- oh. Hi Ms. Maximoff.” Peter forced a strained smile as he nearly bumped into the woman.

“Peter, we’ve been over this,” Wanda answered, her voice calm. “You can call me Wanda.”

Like you, the witch hadn’t been doing the best in recent days as she had lost something just as valuable as a father: her partner. While she occasionally had days where the ground would’ve been lucky to feel the grace of her step, her superhero duties had kept her from spending each day hidden from society. She had a different way of coping, but like others, she seemed to start getting back into routine again.

“Right, sorry Wanda.” Peter apologized.

“What are you doing out here?” inquired the witch in her native Sokovian accent, always intuitive. “Is something wrong?”

“It’s y/n. I can’t find her anywhere and we agreed to meet back here nearly - an hour ago!” Peter pulled up his coat sleeve to check the time on his watch, the face of which bore a picture of him and your father from only a few months before the snap. It had been a birthday gift, one of his favorites in fact, though it couldn't top what you had given him the same year: a lego set and your first kiss.

“I didn’t know that she got out of bed. That’s a big step!”

“Yes it is and we were going to celebrate tonight, but she hasn’t come back yet which is really not like her.” worried Peter.

“Where did she go?”

“Strange’s. He was going to give her a meditation lesson for her powers.”

Confused, Wanda's eyebrow furrowed and she crossed her arms over her chest. “Doesn’t she know how to use them already?”

“Yes, but he thought it would help her manage her grief. Working out is a pretty common method, but she hates going to the gym so he figured some meditation would be better for her and -“

“Wait, hold on. Did she go to him this morning?”

“Yes and she was supposed to be back around noon, but it’s nearly six and she’s still gone.” Peter explained.

“Peter!” Wanda chided. She couldn't believe he could make such a grave mistake.

“What?”

“Strange hasn’t been at the Sanctum all day!”

“What?! Where is he?”

“Do I look like a wizard to you?" the witch gestured to her casual leggings and cardigan pairing that drastically differed from Strange's usual eccentric costumes. "How should I know?”

As if summoned by the topic of conversation, a figure appeared in the distant grass, hovering over the blades until he was close enough to be able to walk. His cape that flowed in the breeze like a blood red stream with a mind of its own was a dead give away. Doctor Strange had indeed arrived in the flesh.

“Parker,” he greeted, though he did not smile. “Is Ms. Stark ready for our lesson?”

Peter’s eyes went wide as he realized his mistake.

“Oh no.” he muttered, shaking his head in defeat. He was met with confusion from the wizard.

“No?” Strange repeated. “We agreed upon 8 didn't we? I know I'm a little early, but I assumed she wouldn't be busy. Didn’t you let her know I was coming?”

“Yes,” Peter confirmed. “I told her to be ready and then I sent her off to your place at 8… am.”

“What?!” Strange exclaimed as he summoned a portal to appear leading directly to his found home on Bleecker Street. He stepped through the fiery ring, a silent invitation for the others to follow as he hurried passed your car, up the steps, and into the door which did not part of him the same way it had earlier. Inside he was met with the most frightful of discovers accompanied by the looming feeling of doom as the situation became clear.

The Sanctum, unguarded with his absence, lay littered with books that had fallen from their homes on his shelf’s yet one stood out from all the others. It laid on the floor open with its pages to the ground while every other book was shut. Levitating it with the simple flick of his wrist, a horrifying sight awaited Strange as he turned it over. One of the pages in the sacred book was missing.

“Do you know how serious this is?!” Strange exclaimed and although Peter at first took it as a barbed criticism aimed directly at him, he was able to distinguish Strange’s tone from when he was reprimanding. This was a separate kind of worry, the sort of tone that he had used heavily on the fated spaceship you three had been stuck in until you landed on Titan, Thanos’ home world, nearly five years ago. Treachery was afoot and if your powers were involved, the whole fabric of your current reality could change.

“Which one did she take?” Wanda pointed to the book, clearly noticing the giant tear in its center.

Strange’s voice answered, heavy with concern. “The revival spell.”

“You don’t think she knows, do you? She can’t possibly know how to conjure it.” asked Wanda, the same concern for their future written all over her face.

“That’s exactly what I think.” Strange confirmed.

“What?” Peter asked. “What are you guys talking about?”

“There are many types of magic, Parker, and the Sanctum, the building where you sent your girlfriend, is full of all of them, good and bad alike. Every spell comes with a price, the bigger the spell, the bigger the price and the spell she took comes with one of the biggest prices there is to pay.”

“Think about it, Peter,” Wanda paled. “What does y/n want most in the world right now?”

It hit Peter harder than fresh fallen hail. You were going to try to bring your father back.

“We have to find her. Now.”

Strange tried to use his sling ring to appear wherever you were, but in your grief, the extent of your powers had grown massively. Intentionally or not, you managed to prevent even the most powerful of wizards from using his Sling Ring to access your location.

“She's blocked me out.” Strange frowned. “We’re going to have to track her on foot.”

“She can’t be far,” Peter agreed. “She always takes the shortest path whenever she wants something.” It was one of the many things he loved about you: your ability to turn any taxing task into something much simpler. You were one of the cleverest people he knew. He just hoped it didn’t work in your favor this time.

It was Wanda who had the idea of tracking your magic. She led them to the nearest withering woodland area, where trees with bare branches and dying leaves sprawled endlessly. It was the perfect place to perform dark magic, away from the unyielding eyes of society. The trio didn’t hesitate to run in.

The further they got, the closer you felt especially to Peter despite the fact that he was the only one without his own source of magic. If he lost you tonight, he feared he’d never feel any sort of magic ever again.

They were only half an acre in when Wanda and Strange called out in anguish, the witch falling to her knees while Strange stayed standing, pounding the air with his fist as his trying to break through an invisible barrier though it was to no avail. Whatever was holding him back, it wasn’t fading anytime soon.

“Keep going, Parker!” he shouted, urging Peter forward. “You’re the only one who can stop her. The spell will only allow that which she loves.”

“How do I do it?” Peter shouted. “How do I stop the spell?”

“The page,” Wanda replied, quicker than Strange could as his reply was easy for her to access. “You have to tear it apart.”

Without wasting a second more, Peter sprung back towards where he could feel you, running without fatigue as his superhuman endurance supplied him with plenty of energy.

It was only a minute later that he caught his first sign of you. There was a break in the tree line out of which a bright amber glow poured like an incandescent warning. It was a dramatic contrast from the normal comforting emerald greens of your magic, but it was you nonetheless and Peter didn’t stop until he was so close he had to shade his eyes from the light.

If it weren’t for the dark nature of what you were doing, Peter would’ve considered it one of the most beautiful events he’d ever seen take place. He wasn’t sure if the circle of trees that surrounded you had been a natural formation or one you made for the sake of the spell, but he was sure the way they seemed to bend to your will, despite the hard wood of their birch trunks, had to be because of your power. In the center of it all was you and the page you had stolen atop a pile of purple and golden leaves. You stood before it, eyes closed as you whispered some sort of incantation. Your powers spread above you in orange flickering flames as you outstretched your arms and summoned what looked like the beginnings of a portal, though it was hard to peer through like a bride covered in a veil of night black.

Peter shouted your name, screaming for you to stop, but you didn’t so much as flinch as the portal grew. You couldn’t hear him over the force of your will. He could start to feel what Wanda and Strange were trapped behind. There was some sort of invisible wall that threatened to push him back from you, but he couldn’t be defeated. He had to stop you. Step by step, he got closer and closer to you, watching in horror as your body was lifted from the ground and floated in midair. A new energy started weeping through the fabric that covered your chest, soft and white like a sheer glittering fabric. It drifted towards the portal and as Peter neared you he could make out the outline of a face forming from it in the black center of it. It started to take shape, growing a neck and a body and becoming more concrete than a fragmented part of your energy. He became more unmistakable as the color grew back into his face. Tony Stark, in the flesh. Peter hurried towards the page.

You opened your eyes to gaze into the face of your father, tears flowing down your face partially from the exhaustion of bringing him back and from being able to see him again.

You tried to say something, tell him how much you had missed him, but you were left rendered without a voice. Your words came out as mouthed nonsense, though it seemed he had regained his voice.

“Y/n,” he uttered, though it seemed more like a warning than a greeting after being torn from you for so long.

You mouthed something you knew he’d understand. I love you too, dad.

Some other force called your name, but you ignored it. You couldn’t focus on anything else, but the father you had lost regaining life right in front of you. With every part that he gained, you felt a part of your fade. It wasn’t painful, more numbing than anything like the final dose to end all your sadness. You couldn’t help but relish in it. You were bringing back one of the greatest men to ever live.

You were so distracted, you missed the web that landed on the page below you and pulled it away.

“Y/n,” your dad said again, nearly having enough of one of his legs to step out of the portal when suddenly, the inky blackness swallowed him whole again and dissolved in the forest light, taking back the only thing you ever wanted.

“NO!” you cried as your voice returned to you and you fell back down to the dry grass and dead leaves, crumpled on the forest floor as all of the magic you had summoned faded away save for the glittering cloud that returned to your chest with such force it made you cough. You had failed.

“Y/n!” someone called and you shuddered away from their hand on your shoulder as loud sobs erupted from you.

“Leave me!” you begged. “Just leave!” Peter refused to leave your side, tossing behind him the page he had shredded into tiny scraps of paper as he knelt beside you, careful not to touch you again. “Why did you have to do that? Why did you take him from me?”

“You were going to die! I couldn’t let you di-“

“I WANTED TO DIE!”

Peter froze as you whimpered, the truth spreading above the both of you in the cold air like storm clouds as you cried to him.

“I want him back. Everyone wants him back. No one cares about his depressed daughter and I don’t want to hurt anymore, Peter.” you paused to take a deep breath. “It- it hurts so much.” you could barely get the words out as you were choked by your sobs. “It hurts knowing I could’ve saved him. It hurts knowing it should’ve been me that snapped those stupid stones. And I don’t want to live with that anymore. I had to try to bring him back for the world. It needs him more than it needs me.”

You brought a hand to your face, wiping away some of your tears, though it was no use as more came pouring out.

“I need you.” uttered Peter, looking into your glossy eyes. The sight of your tears and the echo of your screams couldn’t deter him from you. You can’t be repelled from the ones that you love.

“But you miss him, don’t you,” you argued as hot tears coated your face. “You want him back too.”

Peter nodded in agreement.

“I think about him everyday. Our moments together. Like this one time he saved me from drowning in a lake. Or-“ Peter grinned. “- remember when he caught us making out that one time before we told him we were together. He was so mad.” Peter smiled to himself, looking fondly on the memory until he began again.

“I miss him so much and it makes me so sad that I'll never see him again. But I wouldn’t trade you for him. I wouldn't trade you for anyone. You’re worth more to me than anyone else in the universe.”

Your sobs slowed yet the tears did not cease as they still cascaded down your face.

“It hurts me so much.” you restated.

Peter opened his arms. “May I?” he asked. You nodded and before you knew it, you were engulfed by a warmth unlike any other as Peter hugged you tight enough to make sure you wouldn’t try to leave him again.

“I know you do,” he related. "And I wish I could take it away. I wish I could just bag all your pain and throw it all away. But it doesn't work like that. It's going to hurt. It's going to be painful, so much so that you won't move from bed for days and days. You haven't."

"But I feel like everyone else has already moved on. Why can't I?" you shivered.

"No one else was as close to him as you. Everyone else lost a friend. You lost a father. There's a big difference. You can't expect yourself to move on from it. That's not healthy. It's just like I said, I'm here for you no matter how long it takes. You have to take your time with it, don’t rush the process." Peter pressed the lightest of kisses to one of your dampened cheeks.

"I just don't know what to do."

"Breathe."

As silly as it sounded in its simplicity you did as he instructed and inhaled deeply, allowing the air to coat your lungs that hadn’t been exposed to so much fresh air in a week. As you exhaled, you let out another sob in his arms, but somehow it felt better than all the others. You were not rid of your pain by any means and sadness still corroded your core, but for the first time in so long, you didn’t feel so hopeless. Peter placed another gentle kiss on your cheek, encouraging you as you took several more slow breaths and quiet cries until you found the strength to speak again.

“Was it like this for you when your parents died?” you wondered aloud as you pulled away from Peter to look into his chocolate brown eyes that you almost forgot you loved so much, yet not so far that he couldn't keep his arms around your frame that was still bearing his sweatshirt. You hadn’t spoken much about them before and while you weren’t sure where the question had arisen from, it felt like the right thing to ask.

“I was so young when they passed, sometimes I feel like they were never mine to begin with,” he admitted. “I took a couple days off school when it happened, but I don’t remember crying all that much. It’s tragic and sometimes it makes me sad that they’re gone, but I’m glad that it does. It’s a reminder that they were there for me in the first place, that I knew them enough to miss them. The grief is proof that I loved them while they were here.”

You were both silent for a moment as you thought about his words in relation to your situation. All your pain was put into perspective. Everything you had been through since he died, all the days you wasted away in bed, it was all the proof that you had loved him so much when he was alive and that you were still carrying the love you had left for him. You missed your father so much you were willing to die to get him back and for a moment, you almost did.

You parted from Peter’s arms to stand though you still grasped onto his hands as you weren’t strong enough to be upright on your own. You closed your eyes again and listened to the sound of the forest, the swaying of the leaves that still clung to their branches, the faint twittering of birds, and the calm of the sky that was oddly cloudless for autumn. The sound of your name falling from your father’s reformed lips was still faint in the air and for a moment you felt as though you were with him again.

You remembered when he taught you how to ride a bike one evening when you were only four. You remembered the day he pulled you from public school and started teaching you at home. You remembered the look of shock on his face when you showed him your powers for the first time and even more, you remember his pride when you completed your first mission with the Avengers (that he'd approved ahead of time to avoid any more Germany -like surprises). He wasn’t there, but at the same time he was everywhere. And you missed him, but at the same time the absence he left in your life felt less empty.

The tears came out in slow smooth streams, flowing down in slow trickles as you finally sat back down. You didn’t say anything and neither did Peter, but you knew he could feel what you felt. He could feel your father too and minutes slipped by as you sat and cried together.

There was a sudden rustling in the distance and soon enough, Doctor Strange and Wanda had arrived at the scene, no longer held back by invisible barriers. They rushed to you bringing flooding guilt through your system as you began to apologize.

“I’m sorry,” you cried. “I’m so sorry.”

Strange opened his mouth to speak, but he had nothing to say. You could tell by his expression that he was disappointed, but there was more to it. He had empathy.

It was Wanda that leaned down to place a friendly hand on your shoulder.

“Let’s get you home.”

The months following were some of the hardest of your life. Every battle you faced was uphill, but you no longer felt like you were fighting alone. You started going out again, first to visit Pepper and your half sister Morgan who lived in their cabin home. Peter joined you of course, but he played with Morgan for the most part while you and Pepper talked. You cried with her, but you laughed a lot too. She shared with you so many of her own memories, times when your father didn't know what to get you for your birthday, when he had managed to mess up cooking dinner in the strangest of ways, and when he’d accidentally burned your favorite stuffed animal in the drying machine all of which Pepper had to remedy. Though she hadn’t raised you, she was the mother you never had and through her stories you learned that your father had been just as good raising Morgan with her as he had been with you.

You hung out with Ned and MJ again shortly after that. While Peter had suggested a brief check-in at a cafe so you could go home quickly to rest, you surprised him with a much more time consuming idea: laser tag. The four of you had the best time targeting each other, you winning more rounds than any of the others. You ended the day with smoothies, talking as you drank and making plans for the next time you would all see each other. MJ made you promise you would text her if you ever needed anything and Ned gave you a whole plate of his Lola’s ensaymadas, your favorite dish of hers.

Finally, though he was locked up in his house and avoiding humanity, you visited Happy. Peter offered to join you like all the other times, but you assured him it would be best if he stayed home, promising you would return later. Happy was in a similar state of dismay to you when you saw him and while he was able to care for himself and continue with his personal routine, you could tell he was hurting.

You didn't say much when you first entered his apartment, but there was comfort within the silence. You sat with him on his sofa and watched whatever mind numbing program he had turned on to distract his thoughts until you had both worked up an appetite for lunch. It was there, in the middle of a random Burger King in Queens over a plate of cheeseburgers that you both broke down. You told him what you had nearly done, trusting him with the sensitive information as he was almost a second father to you. You took your time telling him the story of how you had nearly died to bring back your father.

Happy cried as you did and when you were finished, he told you how much you meant to him. He traded your story for one from your father after he returned from Afghanistan where he had famously been kidnapped.

"You could tell he was shaken," Happy began. "He told me he wasn't scared to die, but he was scared of losing time with you and leaving you alone. Pepper and I had been so busy trying to get him back, he was worried you had been neglected while he was gone. But when he came home and he saw your room clean, your toys put away, and a fridge full of leftovers from meals you prepared yourself, he was so proud. You inspired him to turn his life around. It was after that he told me that he knew you'd be okay if he was taken from us one day."

You both cried after that.

Long after you had finished your food, Happy drove you to the Parker's new apartment with the promise that he would be okay too, eventually. He also admitted that he was starting to develop quite the liking for your faithful boyfriend after hearing all that he had done for you, though he’d skin you alive if you ever told Peter.

It was that night in Peter's new bedroom that you knew you’d be okay. It still hurt to think of your father and you knew you’d never entirely recover and that the pain would never fully leave you, but there was a certain comfort in it now. You knew Peter felt it too as he snuggled half asleep into your side, his arm slung around your body in a protective manner, but also to keep from falling of the twin bed you shared as he let you sleep on the side with the wall. There were still days when you didn’t want to leave your bed, but there were also days when you felt more elated than ever. You could feel your father in those moments the most, like the shine of his smile took form in the light from the sun. You couldn’t see him nor could you speak with him, but you knew he wasn’t really gone. It was love that kept him around. And it was the love you carried for him that would suspend you for lifetimes, through light and dark until the end of time.

“I hope this grief stays with me because its all the unexpressed love” - Andrew Garfield 💙

#tom holland x you #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x reader #peter parker #mental health #suicide awareness #avengers endgame #tony stark #stark!daughter #stark!reader #fem!reader #you are loved

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hollandsfavbabe · 1 year

Text

Popsicle Pairs

pairing: dad!tom holland x mom!reader

synopsis: in which you and tom decide to enjoy more than just popsicles until your son intrudes

warnings: super cliché, bathroom talk(toddler training)

word count: 1.3k

masterlist

a/n: based off of that one super cliche imagine if anyone knows what I’m talking about. i can’t find it anywhere on the internet, but trust me, it’s a thing. really i just had to get this out of my drafts ... enjoy!

“MOMMY!” your toddler shouted from the hall bathroom, eager to show you his latest accomplishment. You rushed from your position in the kitchen, leaving the ingredient cupboard open as your son took priority over starting dinner.

It was just three years ago that you and Tom were blessed with your wonderful son, though it felt like only a week. And now as he started to get bigger, you had begun every parent's favorite process when raising a toddler … not. Indeed it was potty training time. Helping your son switch from diapers to undies was a challenge for you two, but with Tom’s optimism and your determination, you were both sure you could do it. The trek had been long, but you were close to completing one hell of an accomplishment.

You took baby steps, starting by rewarding your little boy with soft candy whenever he simply alerted you that needed to go to giving him a treat when he had gone in the actual bathroom, whether he had taken off his diaper or not. Now, bigger steps caused for bigger rewards, so when he started actually using the loo you upgraded his reward to half of a popsicle, his favorite sweet.

When you arrived at the door of the bathroom your son was excited to inform you that he had yet again earned another popsicle half.

“Nice job buddy!” you congratulated before helping him to reach the sink so that he could wash his hands the way you taught him to.

When you were finished you both left for the kitchen, only to be greeted by your husband Tom. He stood outside the bathroom door with a curious expression.

“Did you make it again?” he asked, referring to your son’s triumph. The little boy nodded in reply, jumping up and reaching his hands into the air, gesturing for Tom to pick him up.

“I did it daddy, I did it!” he squealed excitedly.

“Oh I’m so proud!”

“Can I have my popsicle now?” your son asked, eyes widening.

“I don’t know, it’s awfully close to dinner. You’ll have to ask your mother.” Tom replied, looking at you as he waited to hear your decision. Your son turned towards you too, eager to hear what you had to say as if he could burst out of your husband’s arms, quite possibly the definition of jumping out of a seat from excitement. You let out a defeated sigh. You supposed your son could stray from his normal meal plan for one night.

“Sure.” you answered. Your son cheered in Tom’s arms, delighted by your conclusion. “It’s too late to start dinner anyways. I’ll just order a pizza.”

“Yeah, pizza!” your son whooped. You couldn’t help, but giggle at his reaction as you pulled out your phone to order the food. Tom chuckled with you walking off in the direction of the kitchen.

“Let’s choose a flavor while mommy orders. What kind do you want?” Tom asked, opening the fridge as he got close to it.

“Blue! I want blue!” your son demanded and so he was given what he desired.

Tom set him down as he handed over half of a blue popsicle, grinning at his son who was overjoyed by the frozen delight.

“The blue one is my favorite.” your son said, sticking the popsicle in his mouth.

“Oh really,” smiled Tom. “And why is that?”

“It colors my tongue!” exclaimed your son, showing his now blue stained tongue to his father. Tom laughed at the little boy, bending down and tickling his sides the way the boy loved.

“Silly.” grinned Tom and the two both broke into contagious fits of laughter.

----------

Two empty pizza boxes lay on the kitchen table, the food they once contained now long gone in the digestion process as you and Tom laid your son in his bed, tucking him in before wishing him goodnight. He nestled his head into his pillow and bid you goodnight, ready for sleep. It was when you heard soft snores that you closed the bedroom door gently behind you.

Tom took your hand as you closed your son’s door, leading you away from his room and back into the kitchen where once again he opened the freezer.

“There’s two halves of two different popsicles left over that I doubt he’s gonna miss. Do you want red or blue?” He asked you, having no care which flavor he had himself.

“Red.” you replied, prompting your husband to hand over half of a red popsicle, the wood underneath sticking out the top, untouched by the knife you used to cut it for your son. Tom took a similar looking blue one for himself and together you peeled off the already opened wrapper and started licking them.

Tired of standing, you led Tom to the nearby sofa in the living room, taking a seat on one of the cushions and patting the one beside you for your husband to sit on to which he happily obliged, allowing you to lay on him as you both got comfortable.

“Today was a good day.” you stated mindlessly, almost finished with your popsicle. Tom set down the now bare stick of his and wrapped his hands around your waist as you laid on him, placing feather light kisses to your hairline.

“It was indeed.”

You were finished with your popsicle now, setting the stick on top of Tom’s discarded one, you turned around in his lap to face him, sitting up so that you could better see his features, better admire the structure that made up his heavenly face.

He plucked one of your hands from your lap and brought it to his lips, kissing the back of it while grinning at you.

“I love you.” you blurted, the words falling from your lips easily as he showered you in affection.

“I love you too.” He replied, pressing another kiss to your knuckle.

“No way.” you whispered with obvious sarcasm.

“Yes way,” Tom joked right back before moving his other hand to the bone above your cheek, his thumb gently caressing your face as he gazed into your eyes. “Would you care for me to show you just how much I love you?”

You smirked, giggling as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Yes please,” you nodded.

Tom scanned your smirk and no longer stalled to kiss it away as his lips met yours.

It was slow at first and built as you went along. It wasn’t very long before his tongue was in your mouth forcing a groan out of you.

You wanted to take it further, almost suggesting he carry you to your shared bedroom, but as your son walked into the living room you pushed yourself away from your husband and erased any lewd thoughts from your mind. You swore he had been asleep no more than five minutes ago.

Luckily he hadn’t seen anything and forchabtly for a three year old, smug red faces and crazy hair were not clear indications to him of what had been going on.

“What’s up honey?” you asked, blushing furiously after being nearly caught.

“I did it again!” he cheered with such pride in himself. You smiled, smoothing down some of the strands that were out of place as you stood to usher him out of the room, Tom by your side.

“Good job bud!” your husband praised.

“Can I have another popsicle before bed?” your son asked, ironically also taking notice of the two sticks on the table.

“Did you and daddy have some?” he questioned curiously.

You nodded with Tom, picking up the sticks to throw them in the nearest bin.

“Yep, we did.” you affirmed.

“Oh cool!” your son grinned. “Can I see your colored tongue?”

You shrugged and opened your mouth, Tom doing the same so that your son could see. Instantly the face of your toddler skewed into one of confusion and you felt immediate guilt.

“How’d you get purple tongues if there aren’t purple popsicles?”

You looked at Tom absolutely mortified, catching sight of his purple tongue before he shared your expression.

“Uhhh…”

#tom holland x you #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfiction #dad!tom holland #mom!reader #cliche #likesupercliche #toddler #potty training

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hollandsfavbabe · 1 year

Note

y/n comforting tom whilst he cries

a/n: ahh sorry this took like forever, and it's so short!

Clean

pairing: tom holland x reader

synopsis: in which y/n helps to break tom’s fear of vulnerability by comforting him after a bad day

warnings: nudity, but it’s not sexual

word count: 1.5k

masterlist

You didn’t hear the squealing of the door hinges as your boyfriend Tom arrived home. You completely missed the sound of his footsteps as he padded across the hardwood floor and you certainly didn’t notice the creaking of steps as he hurried up the stairs to the room you shared, gently closing the door behind him.

It wasn’t entirely your fault, Tom always greeted you warmly with a kiss and a cuddle every time he returned from work, but today was different. You were distracted, your headphones laid atop your unbrushed hair that you had haphazardly tied back, ‘Lover’ by Taylor Swift blaring in your ears as you hummed along. Your hands were busy cutting up some vegetables for dinner as a pan of hot oil sizzled nearby, taking up all your attention. Tom was grateful for your occupance. He was in desperate need of some alone time, enough to hide away the tears streaming down his face so that you would never have to see him at his most vulnerable moment.

He rushed to the bathroom, stripping himself of the clothes he had worn to work and leaving them scattered on the tile. He didn’t have the energy to discard them neatly. Only enough to climb into the shower and turn it onto the coldest setting. He sobbed as the icy spray hit him, letting out all the built up sorrow and melancholy he had built up over the week.

Meanwhile downstairs, you had just set the carrots into the pan with all of the other ingredients when much to your dismay, your music shut off and your wireless headphones played a brief melodic ringtone, a sign that they had died and you could no longer listen to your beloved Tay Tay.

You groaned in annoyance, tearing them off your head and stomping to the charging port nearby.

“Stupid fuc-”

You were cut off by a rather loud noise coming from the second level of your house. Water was running, rushing through the pipes and sprayed out in a muffled rain storm that you could only barely detect from where you stood. You looked to the front door and caught sight of a pair of familiar shoes: Tom’s. You weren’t sure when he got home as you never received your usual greeting. Without further investigation, you rushed up the stairs to your bedroom and followed the sound of water to your connected bathroom. Upon entering you noticed his clothes scattered all over the floor. It was messy and careless, very much unlike the tidy man you knew. Without any hesitation, you crept to the shower curtain.

“Tom?”

Your boyfriend paused, realizing he was no longer alone.

“Love?” he called. His voice was tethering off the edge of breaking, only barely ringing clear.

“Are you okay?” you questioned. “I thought I heard something. I wasn’t sure-”

“I’m fine.” he assured, clearly not at all what he claimed to be.

“Are you sure?”

You sounded so gentle, so caring. It was refreshing after a long work day. Tom couldn’t hold it back any longer.

“Maybe…” his voice broke. You were quick to act. You stripped down until every last article of clothing lay scattered on top of Tom’s and placed a hand tentatively on the shower curtain.

“Mind if I join you?” you asked, waiting for his confirmation. You were met with a noise that sounded reminiscent of a hum and without a moment to lose, you stepped in.

You peeled back the shower curtain that separated you from your boyfriend and stepped into the shower stream still fully clothed. The sight that awaited you was heartbreaking.

Besides the obvious shower water that had left Tom soaked, his face was red and his eyes were glossy with tears. You frowned in concern. You never wanted to see the man you loved so dearly feel so horribly. You instantly pulled him into a hug, Tom breaking down as he nuzzled into the crook of your neck.

“Oh babe,” your hands moved to his head, combing through his damp brown curls in a soothing manner. “What happened?”

Tom took a moment to answer, simply seeking comfort in the warmth of your embrace. He lifted his head when he was ready to talk, still wrapped up in your arms as he spoke.

“I’m so sorry y/n. You weren’t meant to see me like this. I’m supposed to be there for you…” he trailed off as he was interrupted by another deep sob. You pulled away from him slightly, loosening your grip so you could look into his eyes.

“What are you talking about?” you placed a hand on his cheeks, wiping away one of his tears as it trickled down his face, washed away by the shower stream.

“I’m the one that’s supposed to comfort you, not the other way around. And now I’m ruining your day when we were supposed to have a nice night-”

You shushed him softly, pushing a few strands of stray hair out of his face, smoothing them back before returning your hand to his cheek.

“Hey,” you almost whispered, your voice soft but audible against the roar of the shower. “None of those things are happening. My night’s not ruined and what do you mean you’re supposed to comfort me? We’re here for each other, that’s how a relationship works.”

Tom bowed his head, touching his forehead to yours as a thanks for your support, sniffing as his tears seemed to slow.

“It’s okay to cry Tom, especially if it’s in front of me.”

Another sob erupted from him, but it wasn’t quite as saddening as the latter. It was a release now, a way to cope with whatever was on his mind.

“Thanks love.” he whispered.

“Of course.” you smiled. “Now if you’re comfortable with it, mind explaining what’s made you so upset?”

Tom raised his head before staring down at his feet, frowning at the thought.

“It's work,” he explained. “You remember what today was?”

It hit you instantly. How could you forget? Tom had been talking about it incessantly all week. Besides reshoots which would start up in a few months, it had been Tom’s last day on set as everyone’s favorite superhero; his last time playing Spider-Man. You knew it was a big deal, the role was one of his greatest accomplishments, but you had no idea it would bring him so much sadness.

“I remember, of course I remember.”

Tom was in tears again as he explained his sorrow, opening his soul up to you. He had been so afraid that no one would care, that his privilege overshadowed his suffering. Mostly he was scared that his career wouldn’t go anywhere after the trilogy had been released, that he had hit the pinnacle of his time as an actor and he was only going down from there.

“-and then no one will hire me and I’ll never get a role again!”

“Hey,” you calmed him, pulling his face closer to yours and cupping his cheeks in both of your hands. You couldn’t understand why he would think such things about himself, but no matter the reason you were determined to make him see sense again. “I think you know that none of those things are true. You’re an amazing actor Tom, maybe the best in our generation. This isn’t the end, not at all. Do you think maybe you feel all of this because you miss playing Spider-Man?”

“Maybe,” he agreed. “It’s ridiculous isn’t it.”

“No it’s not,” you assured him. “Of course it’s not. You’ve been playing Spider-Man for years! It would be weird for you to not be sad about it! But he won’t be your last role and who knows, maybe you’ll play him again sooner than you think.”

“You really think so?” he sniffed again. You nodded.

“I know so.”

He smiled, something you had been longing to see since you found out he had arrived home.

“What did I do to deserve you?”

You beamed as he pulled you closer.

“If you want I’m in a bit of a crying mood myself. Want to cuddle and watch a sad movie during dinner?”

He chuckled at that forcing a laugh out of you before he placed his lips upon yours. You could feel his grin through the kiss, his hands snuck up your waist as yours tangled in his hair again. You would’ve stayed like that, happy and pressed together, if it weren’t for an awful smell that pushed you apart.

“What is that?” you asked, nearly gagging as it hit you.

“I have no idea, but it smells like something's burning.”

That’s when it hit you.

“Oh shit! That’s probably dinner.”

Tom shrugged, pulling you close again.

“I think pizza goes better with movie night anyways.”

You smiled at him.

“Pizza it is.”

You pulled him down for one last peck, the shower stream still hot above you until Tom reached back and turned it off.

“We should really take care of that smell though.” he stated, moving to grab his towel as well as yours so that you could exit together.

“Alright,” you agreed, taking the towel from him and wrapping it around your center. “I’m on it.”

#tom holland fanfiction #tom holland #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #spiderman no way home #spiderman

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hollandsfavbabe · 1 year

Text

That’s The Tea

pairing: tom holland x reader

synopsis: in which tom finds out his girlfriend has no idea how to make tea

warnings: angsty-ish (not really), bad tea, england’s world cup loss

word count: 2.4k

masterlist

Freezing cold snow from outside littered the ground surrounding your house, coating everything in a sheet of white while warmth spread through your body as you snuggled into Tom’s side, only half paying attention to the screen in front of you. With the World Cup going on and the England team still in the running, Tom made it a point to watch it every night it was on, both as an avid football fan and as an extreme British patriot. As his girlfriend and house mate that meant you were also subjected to the sport you knew as soccer and though you cared little for the game, you enjoyed seeing Tom so passionate about it and had fun defending the USA team (up until they inevitably lost).

On this particular Saturday morning during a rousing game between England and France, Tom was unusually more tired than talkative and instead of giving you a play by play of the game, he kept a comforting arm around your waist and stroked your hair, planting soft kisses on your crown as he watched the game. The night previous he had been late coming home, his work keeping him longer than normal to finish an especially difficult scene. Though you both were perfectly content snuggled up on the sofa, you wished there was something you could do to make him more energetic while routing for his team, help him regain some of his normal vigor as England’s best played for their lives.

That’s when it hit you, Tom hadn’t completed an essential step in his daily routine yet, one that sometimes meant the difference between whether he was in a friendly mood or just wanted to be around you for the day. He hadn’t had his morning tea yet.

As the only American in the house, you’d never had the chance to make tea as you didn’t drink it as much as the others and you didn’t exactly know how to do it ‘the proper way’. As you understood it, there was a huge difference between English tea and American tea as they diverged somewhere in the brewing process, but both were tea in their own respects which prompted you to wonder how contrasting they really were. After living in England for so many years, you considered yourself most qualified to make Tom’s tea and with that goal set in mind, you were off.

You rotated around in Tom’s arms until you were facing him, grinned and pecking his cheek as he beamed at you in return.

“What’s up, love?” he murmured groggily, his smile quickly flipping upside down as you started to move out of his hold. “No wait, c’mere.” he protested, grabbing onto your hand in hopes that you would tuck back into him.

“It’s okay, I’m coming back.” You laughed as you crouched over him to move some of the fallen curls out of his face. “I know how tired you are and I know you need your tea to function in the morning so I’ve decided to make it for you today.”

Tom’s eyebrows furrowed, clearly thinking the same as you.

“You don’t have to love, you’ve never made it before.”

You dismissed his concerns with a quiet pshh.

“Oh sure I have. I’ve made plenty of tea back in the US. It’ll be great, you’ll see. Do you take one sugar or two?”

Tom giggled.

“Two please and with just a splash of milk.”

“One British tea coming right up.” you promised, kissing his forehead as you left to make his tea, Tom’s gaze following you as you crossed the room.

“I love you!” Tom shouted from behind you as you disappeared into the kitchen. “Don’t be very long! I’m getting cold.”

Your laugh echoed from the other room as you shouted back, “You won’t be after my amazing tea!”

Thirty minutes and two sugars later, you returned with not just a cup of tea for Tom, but a tumbler of steaming hot coffee for yourself both in a small tray that you set down on the coffee table.

Tom sat up, his blanket falling on top of his lap as he reached out and picked up the cup from its place on the tray, bringing it to his center as the hot contents inside warmed him up. He sighed in relief and smiled at you as you grabbed your own drink.

“Thank you darling. I really appreciate it.”

“No problem.” you responded, sipping on your coffee as you took a seat beside him on the sofa, leaning into him.

Tom grinned as he refocused on the game, bringing the cup to his lips and slurping the liquid inside, but instead of the normal taste of tea, he was met with a liquid monstrosity that he immediately spat out onto the surrounding carpet, table, and you. You screamed and jumped up in shock, now sprayed with the hot liquid as you slammed your own drink down to prevent any more spillage.

“Ah Tom!” you shouted, wiping the tea from your now damp pajama shirt. “What the fuck?!”

Tom’s eyes grew wide as he stood with you, setting the disgusting tea down beside your drink as he jumped to apologize.

“I am so sorry y/n. I didn’t mean spray you with, oh shit, let me help you.” he offered, his game continuing on the screen, now forgotten. Tom grabbed your hand and led you to the kitchen when the sight that beheld him stopped him in his tracks.

“Y/n,” he mumbled, in absolute shock. “What did you do?”

In front of him was the most disarray he’s ever seen the kitchen, water splashed on the floor, microwave left wide open, and one of the countertops resembling a summer camp with string and tape splayed across the marble along with a stapler. There was a fucking stapler in the kitchen.

You stepped forward and checked out the mess, stepping over some split coffee grounds powder on the floor as you headed to the sink to wet a rag.

“I swear this is worse than how I left it. I was going to clean it after you finished so I could do the dishes too. Kill two birds with one stone.”

“Oh I think you could kill plenty of birds with that concoction.” Tom retorted, referring to your tea. He shook his head and looked away from the mess, taking your hands in his as he stared at you with concern.

“Y/n, you know I love you more than anything right.”

“Yeah I know.”

“Good. Remember that when I say this next part. Remember that I love you.”

Tom paused to take in a deep breath, the sort of one might take before announcing they’d like to separate, but in this case you were sure he was simply dramatic. He was an actor after all.

“Alright, I get it. Just spit it out.” you demanded, growing inpatient as you pulled your hands out of his and used the wet rag to wipe off the splattered tea on your shirt.

Tom grimaced, remembering whatever he had drunk out of the cup that you disguised as a normal cuppa when in fact, it was not just a cuppa. It was horrible.

“I’m sorry to say this, but that had to be the worst tea I have ever had in my entire life. It’s so bad honey, it’s even worse than Harry’s.”

You looked up at him in shock, the rag slipping from your hands as your expression changed from neutral to saddened.

“No.”

Tom nodded, regretfully.

“Yes, I’m sorry baby. But that’s the thing, I don’t think it’s your fault. You’ve never made this kind of tea before. Could you tell me how you did it?” he asked, hoping to help you by correcting any flaws in your recipe. There were sure to be a few.

“Oh alright.” You gave in. “I made it how I always do, just with milk and sugar this time because that’s how you like it.”

“How exactly did you make it?”

You thought back for a moment and started off at the beginning.

“I started by heating up the water for the tea..”

“With the kettle?” Tom asked, unsure there was any other way to do it. Much to his disappointment, there was.

“No.” you answered as if it was obvious. “With the microwave.”

Tom cringed as he shook his head and turned towards the microwave, closing the opened door as he motioned for you to continue.

“After I warmed it up, I put the tea bag in, but it didn’t have a string like the ones in the States do and it made me wonder why someone would make a tea bag without a string? How are you supposed to get it out? That’s like making a tampon without a string. Imagine how hard it would be to…”

Unable to keep you with your reasoning, Tom directed you back on topic.

“Y/n,” he reminded you gently.

“Right, sorry. Got a little carried away. Well anyways I was just so appalled by the stringless bag that I figured should fix it.”

“What do you mean?” Tom wondered aloud. You shrugged, puzzled by how dumbfounded your boyfriend seemed as you explained your thought process.

“I added a string. I got some string and a stapler and I fixed the tea bag.”

“Y/n, that’s yarn.” Tom corrected, pointing out the thick white ball of it that lie scattered across the marble countertop.

“It was the only one we had.”

Tom bit his lip, looking up to the ceiling as if he was asking for help from above before he met your eyes again and repeated your statement.

“So what you’re telling me is you cut a piece of yarn and you stapled it to the tea bag?”

“Yes. Then I-”

“Wait, hold on. I want to make sure we’re picturing the same thing. You stapled it to the tea bag?”

You nodded, wondering what about the situation was not getting across to him as he remained absolutely bewildered.

“Yeah, the tape didn’t work.” you explained. Tom shook his head as he looked away from the stapler, no longer wishing to accept its presence in the kitchen.

“Oh y/n, please keep going.”

“As I was saying, after I fixed the tea bag, I put it in the water and stirred it up a bit until it all looked nice and mixed. At that point I had finished making my coffee so I added some milk and two sugars just like you said and brought it out to you.”

Tom noticed a gap in your story where a vital step lay that you did not explain completing.

“You took the tea bag out though right?” he questioned. Though he was genuinely asking, somewhere deep inside himself, he already knew the answer.

You laughed.

“What you think I’m stupid? I wouldn’t want the tea to lose its flavor. Of course I didn’t take the tea bag out.”

Tom shook his head, trying his hardest to wipe the taste of the tea from his brain so that he would not gag on its haunting aftertaste.

“Y/n, you’re supposed to take the tea bag out!”

“How was I supposed to know? I drink coffee.”

“I knew you shouldn’t have made the tea. You can’t do it right.”

You scoffed, agreeing with his statement, but refusing to go down as the only bad cook in the house.

“Okay Mr. Ethnocentrism, need I remind you of how badly you screwed up cheeseburgers last week when we invited your family over?”

Tom’s face burned red.

It was true, you had tasked him with something you and everyone else perceived as simple, but instead of delicious classic American cheeseburgers, Tom brought out a platter of what closely resembled eight individual disintegrated panties. His excuse? The cheese wasn’t processed enough.

“Alright, that was worse.” he admitted, wishing he would have asked you for help.

“Thank you.”

He took another look around the kitchen and laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation.

“I can’t believe you actually stapled yarn to the bag.”

“They already have the string attached back in the States!” You reasoned, a smile making its way upon your face as you too realized how absurd it all was.

“I know baby it’s okay.” He comforted, bringing you into him as he embraced you, still damp with the tea. “Let’s just clean this up and how about I show you how to make a real cuppa.”

“That sounds alright.” you agreed and together you got to work.

While you changed into dry clothes, Tom cleaned up most of the spilled items, putting away what was never needed and taking out the ingredients for real tea, including the kettle. Once you returned he showed you through the whole process, helping you use the kettle and showing you how to remove tea bags from cups without strings. Once the milk and sugar was added, he stirred it all together and presented it to you, letting you take the first sip.

You inhaled the scent of the tea and took a sip, swallowing it down and faking a grin as the hot drink slid down your throat.

“It’s alright.”

Tom shook his head as he drank his cuppa.

“It’s more than alright, you crazy. It’s fantastic.” he emoted, closing his eyes as if he had emerged from a world of eternal peace with his tea.

“I’m more of a coffee person.” you remarked, shaking your head at his dramatics.

He laughed, walking you back to the living room where your coffee and his game were waiting for you both.

“Thanks for trying babe, I love you.” he praised, kissing your cheek before another sip of his tea.

“Mm, thanks for teaching me.” you answered, enjoying your own coffee until the final score of the game flashed across the screen causing an uproar next to you.

“NOO!” Tom screamed, standing upright.

“Tom, look out! You’re tea-“

It was too late. The cup had fallen to the floor and once again splashed all over the carpet and your sweat pants, staining the white fabric a soft brown.

Tom looked down at his mess, a furious blush marking his face as he realized what he had just done.

“I’ll clean it up.” he said, defeated at the loss of his team and his morning tea as he moved to grab some towels.

“You better.”

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland funny #world cup #england #english tea

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hollandsfavbabe · 1 year

Text

Movie Night

pairing: tom holland x reader

synopsis: in which you and tom decide to take advantage of your very first movie night all alone

warnings: smut, fingering, masterbation, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy), riding, literally pure filth

word count: 4.8k

masterlist

The sun was setting outside the window of the living room as you lay down blankets on the sofa and set up pillows for you and Tom’s nightly movie night, setting the late night scene with the new absence of light. Ever since the COVID epidemic had begun and you moved in with the Hollands to avoid quarantining alone, you started the already classic tradition where one of the five of you would get to choose a different movie every night and watch it as a family in the living room, adding in blankets and pillows to make it one big sleepover party on Fridays. With Nikki, Dom, Sam, and Paddy living away in a separate house, movie nights usually consisted of you, your boyfriend Tom, his brother Harry, and of course his best friends Harrison and Tuwaine. Usually you would have some help with putting together a comfy place for you all to relax, but there was just one key difference with tonight’s movie night; you and Tom would be watching it alone. After the last Friday movie night, a few of you started feeling a little under the weather, Harry Tuwaine and Harry with a terrible cough and lack of smell while you and Tom felt fine. Immediately you all rushed to take COVID tests and as suspected, you and Tom were both negative, but Harry, Tuwaine, and Harrison all tested positive for the virus and were really starting to feel the symptoms. With masks strapped to your faces, you all returned home, split up the house, and agreed that until the boys got over the virus, you and Tom would be their prime care takers and have to cancel all movie nights until further notice. Your domain to share with Tom consisted of the downstairs area, anything from the kitchen to the living room and the master bedroom you had been sharing with Tom since your arrival. Meanwhile, the sick boys were all instructed to stay upstairs where they had to share two bedrooms between the three of them as well as a single TV compared to you and Tom’s two TVs. Along with feeling bad for the sickly boys, you were sad about missing movie night until it came to your attention after several FaceTime calls and other online interactions with the boys upstairs that movies on Disney+ could be streamed at the same time on separate devices. Needless to say, you got right down to business and spent the rest of the week planning and strategizing how you could do a movie night together, yet apart. By the time Friday came, you had it all together. The boys upstairs would be watching it on their TV while you and Tom would watch it in the living room where you usually would. Tom had dug up old walkie-talkies from when he and his brothers were little and managed to get them working again, tossing one up to the boys so you could converse with each other without is desired. “Tom!” you shout. “Living room’s ready!” Your boyfriend walks out from the kitchen where he had been preparing snacks for the boys, a big metal bowl of popcorn in hand as he smiles at you. “Right love, I’m just going to get this up to the boys, make sure they’re ready, and we can start it up.” “Sounds good.” you confirm, leaving briefly to change into your pajamas. When you return, you spot Tom sitting upon the couch, the lights off and the movie paused on the TV as he waits for you. The walkie-talkie for you both lies on the coffee table, supported by a stack of books so that it is easy to reach and upright. You take in the setting, beaming at Tom until you notice something. You would have missed it if you hadn't taken the time to look around at the dimly lit scene. Your boyfriend sits on the sofa, his legs propped up on the leg rest, partially covered by one of your fuzzy blankets, his pajama pants peeking out from the bottom where the fabric ends at his feet, but completely bare on the top. From the moment you moved in, you knew new boundaries would have to be set for you and Tom when it came down to your intimate life as a couple. It was easier when one of you was staying at the other's flat, alone in the dignity of your own space to do whatever you pleased, but now, with others present, you both had to accept that for the comfort of your housemates, you could not be as active. It wasn’t long after when you figured out that having him less made you want him more and Tom felt the same went for you. In the past three months of the pandemic, you had been completely satisfied only twice, you both resorting to only short sessions that were sustainable, but never filling. Though you loved living with all the boys and could function fine without your fair share of Tom, you still desired him and how here he was, half naked and tempting. At first it’s just his shoulders, the blanket hiding what you know to be his perfectly sculpted chest and torso which allows you some peace of mind. You step closer to him, convincing yourself that his lack of coverage does not change your desire to watch the movie instead of doing something (or someone) else until he lifts up the blanket, showing off his abs that flex in light glimmer from the TV as his arms outstretched, gesturing for you to sit with him. You hesitate, not because you wish to sit apart from him, but because you’d rather do more than just cuddling. His bare skin is enticing. You start to crave his touch, not the tender type, but the kind that leaves you panting out of exhaustion. Your lascivious thoughts become increasingly worse as you are reminded of the lack of intimacy you two have been allowed lately with his brothers around. The very same brothers that are under strict instructions not to leave the upstairs area where they have a horrible view of the downstairs living room. It’s too perfect. “C’mere,” Tom requests, motioning for you to join him. You do as is asked of you, taking a seat on his lap as he wraps the blanket around his shoulder and the both of you, nesting his chin into the crook of your neck and his arms around your waist as he pecks you on the corner of your lips. You shudder. “You cold, love?” he asks out of loving concern. You answer honestly. “Not in the slightest.” Before he’s able to ask you to elaborate, static plays from walkie-talkie as Harry’s voice rings through it. “Are you guys ready yet?” Tom reaches over to the old toy and presses the reply button as he speaks into it “Yep, we’re starting it…now.” He paused to play the movie, simultaneously setting the walkie-talkie down. It had only been playing for five minutes, but you were gone. You were watching it, but you were definitely not paying attention as every word that left the character’s mouths flew in one of your ears and out the other. You were much more focused on something else as Tom’s hot breath fanned over your neck causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. His hands rest on your stomach, much too close to where you want them to be and his thighs were beneath you, only separated by yours and his pajama pants barrier, something that could be so easily removed. Your core is on fire, inflamed from the intensity of your desires. You have to fix it, you need friction, you need contact, you need him. “Tom” you breathe. At the sound of his name, your boyfriend plants a lengthy peck on your cheek. “What’s up love?” he whispers in your ear. You feel your cheeks heat up, his voice adding to the discomfort of not having him already. “I can’t watch this anymore.” Tom recognizes your tone of voice, needy and whiny, he knows what you want as his hands move to your hips to help turn you ever so slightly on his, just enough that you can see his face. His head leans into yours so that you can feel his breath on your lips, his words quiet as he whispers to you. “What do you want?” Your eyes shut and your lips part as his hands move up, his fingers spread as he feels as much of you as he possibly can. “You want me to touch you? To make you feel good? It’s that it, darling?” His hands dip under your shirt as they continue to ascend to the crease beneath your breast where your bra begins to cover you. “God, yes” you moan, leaning into him. He chuckled at your urgency, his thumbs tucking under the cuff of your breast while his lips, feather soft, meet yours in a kiss for what feels like less than a second. “Too bad I have to watch the movie.” His hands leave your skin and he leans back into the sofa, leaving you hot and bothered on his lap, your eyes widening in shock. “You fucking tease,” you gently shove him in return before standing up to leave, heading in the direction of your bedroom. “I guess I’ll just take care of it myself.” You don’t make it much further before Tom reaches and pulls you back to him, settling you back down until you're on his lap again, the blanket discarded and now beneath the two of you. “Oh babe, I’m messing with you. I never said I couldn’t multitask.” You tense into his lap as he leans into your neck, adjusting your body so that you’re facing the television as his lips meet your skin once more. His head moves up as he kisses you again, this time closer to your ear, just at the beginning of your jawline. He kisses you again in the same spot, then again a bit lower, and then again without any gain in pressure or intensity. His hands grip onto your hips as he handles you gently, as if you’re a ceramic work of art. Your skin burns where his lips have been. He elicits a moan from you, desperate as you are to have him already. You need more. Instead, he lifts his head once more and ceases from kissing you as his lips brush against the shell of your ear, shushing you softly. “Quiet darling,” he whispers as his right hand leaves your waist. “We don’t want the boys to hear us, don’t we? You know Harry, he’s already suspicious of us. Imagine if we didn’t win trivia tomorrow. He’d figure us out.” Of course, Harry’s trivia. You’d forgotten. Trivia night referred to the first few minutes of each evening’s movie night where Harry would ask a few questions relating to the previously watched movie and at the end of the week, whoever answered the most correctly won bragging rights and occasionally a sweet of some sort. No one was keen to the idea, but you knew it made Harry happy and as you all had nothing better to do, it soon became as traditional as watching the movie. As there were four of you, it was only natural that you all teamed up; Harrison with Tuwaine and you with Tom. Being extreme movie buffs from months on sets together and as the unhealthily competitive people you were, you and Tom had gotten used to winning every single week. You nod, agreeing that it would in fact be strange if you and Tom didn’t win as per usual, but then again, you much prefer having him over bragging rights. You don’t give a verbal response, but Tom takes your silence, your lack of any sort of erotic sound, as a sign to keep going. You keep your eyes on the screen, as Tom presses another kiss to the side of your neck, his lips lingering this time as you feel his right hand again, stroking your arm as he massages your bicep to help you relax. You sigh into his touch. Encouraged, he lowers his hand, moving from your arm to your waist as he peppers more kisses on your neck. You feel his middle finger dip beneath the elastic of your pajama pants and raise the hem above your skin before letting it snap back into place, He starts to ease it down with one of his hands while the other reaches around you to keep you steady, inching its way under your shirt to rest on the upper part of your abdomen. He kisses you gently, every few seconds or so, careful to not overstimulate you right away. But you’re much too eager to have a slow sensual session as you reach down and help him lower your pants. His hand parts from your skin and grabs your wrist, gently bringing it back up. “Patience darling. I can’t have you coming too fast now can I?” “Just get to it.” He listens to you, peeling off your pants until they’re on a crumpled pile on the floor and his hand is back on you. He strokes your arms again, his finger grabbing yours as he directs them down. “If you want to make it faster, you’re going to have to help out.” he whispers in your ear, his lips against your lobe as he moves both of your hands down and models your hand so that it’s against the dampened fabric, hovering above your clit. He guides it in small circles, showing you your favorite way just as you had shown him your first time. You massage it gently as his hand leaves yours to caress your arm some more, whispering praises into your ear. “Good girl, touching herself for me.” You inhale deeply, the knot tensing in your core as you apply a little more pressure. It’s enough to sustain you for some time, but you know it’s Tom that you need. His other hand starts moving upward as it cups the breast adjacent to it, over your bra that you were starting to wish you had taken off earlier. As if reading your mind, his hand leaves your arm and reaches back to undo the clasps, pulling it off from under your pajama shirt, his original hand reaching back up to cup you again. You stifle a moan as your nipples harden, the uncovered one peeking up from under your shirt. You speed up your own movements, needing more friction, more contact. Tom notices. He pulls your hand back intertwining your fingers, leaving a long kiss on your neck. “Here now love.” He directs, putting your hand on your other breast and letting it go so that you can do it yourself. His hand reaches back down to where you were as it sneaks in between the elastic and slowly peels it down, exposing you to the cool night air of the living room. Light from the TV reflects off of your arousal and he wastes no more time as he touches you. He reaches down and rubs your clit in slow circling motions. You have to focus on keeping your mouth closed as you fail to suppress a groan, humming in satisfaction. His other hand still kneads your breast, an easy movement for you to mimic on your other breast as the intense feeling spreads, growing from your gut. Tom’s finger strokes you, gliding over you, slick from your arousal before he slides one into you, pumping it in and out at a steady pace. “You’re so wet darling. And all for me.” Your breath quickens as his lips attach into your neck again, sucking this time. He nips the delicate skin with his teeth, pain that is then soothed by his soft tongue as he runs it over the sore spot. Your other hand reaches to find his bicep, squeezing it to release some of the tension you cannot let out from being quiet. “That’s it, that feels so good doesn’t it?” he murmurs against your skin, pecking at your neck again. “You’re doing so good keeping quiet for me.” You squeeze his bicep again, your back arching into him as he starts to speed up, adding in another finger as he starts to stretch you. His other hand adjusts, focusing in on your nipple and he swirls his finger around it and pinches it between his thumb and pointer finger. His pace quickens again as he pulls them out and forces them back in, overstimulating you as his lips attack your jawline, adorning you with wet-open mouthed kisses. Your mouth hangs open, you breathe hard as you curl your toes and arch your neck so that your head sinks into the crevice between his neck and his shoulder. It’s a close call, but you manage to turn every single moan into a small groan or grunt. You’re close, he can feel it, you both can. You move your hands and clutch into both of his arms, squeezing. “That’s it, y/n. Come for me.” You’re so close, almost there at the pinnacle. He moves his hand from your breast and clutches your thigh, squeezing it and forcing it to spread apart from your middle for more access. His movements quicken. You almost cry out, you and Tom’s cover nearly blown if it weren’t for you biting your lip at the last moment to stifle it. It was building, quickly, you were getting closer and closer with every forceful thrust from his fingers. You felt your orgasm, closer and closer until… “Oh my god! Guys! Did you see that part?” Tuwaine asks through the walkie-talkie, his voice booming through the speaker. “This film’s mad, isn’t it?” you hear Harry agree in the background of the radio. You gasp as Tom’s movements slow, but never stop as he keeps a steady pace, hitting deep each time. His voice is low as he rasps in your ear, coaxing and sweet. “Answer them.” he orders, his breath hot against your neck. “No,” you breathe, the thought of trying to string enough words together to make an acceptable reply is completely inconceivable. “I can’t, you have to-to…” “My hands are full.” Tom explains, his fingers taking up a now a pace so painfully slow as he takes them all the way out and leisurely pushes them back in. “Answer or I will stop.” he threatens. “Hello?” Harrison calls through the speaker. You groan in frustration as you reach for the walkie talkie beside you and press the button, bringing it up to your lips. “Yes,” you mumble softly, trying your hardest to sound like you were simply relaxing on the couch and not being railed on it. Hoping he would not want to discuss specific details, you think of the shortest response to end the conversation. “The part, we saw it.” “Good job baby.” Tom whispers in your ear, speeding up his fingers again. “What do you think of it so far?” Harry asked. Tom’s lips stick back onto your neck, sucking the delicate skin. “Fuck,” you curse, earning what you make out as a smile from him as he grins against your skin, still pumping in and out of you. You press the button again, hoping the sound of Tom’s fingers navigating through your arousal couldn’t be heard through the old technology. “It’s so good, so so good.” you answer uncontrollably, obviously not describing the movie. Tom whispers more praise in your ear as he speeds up his pace again. “Really?” Harrison asks. “We kind of think it’s shit, we’ve been laughing at it, but maybe it’ll get better. It’s not bad.” “Oh no, not bad at all.” you agree, earning another smirk from Tom as you toss the walkie-talkie to the safety of one of the nearby chairs and turn up the film to cover up any more of your noise. You lean back into Tom and stifle another moan as he nips another part of your neck. “You’re incredible, baby.” Tom praises as his fingers keep pumping in you, but after being deprived of him for so long, you know it’s not enough. You could feel him beneath you, bulging, clearly as needy as you, but too much of a gentleman to say so. “I want you this time.” you pant, reaching for his hand to move it away from your core. “I want to ride you.” “Are you sure? I don’t have a condom on me.” You turn around, briefly, and kiss him, a short one, sweet and inviting to clear away all of his doubt. “I want to.” you murmur against his lips, pecking them once more before you pull away for good. “Fuck me.” At once, Tom discards his own pajama pants until they too, like yours, lay crumpled on the ground, adding your own underwear to the mix as he adjusts you in his lap, helping you slide onto him. As you presumed, he fills you up instantly, forcing yet another pleasure filled hum of you as you suppress a moan. “Fuck, y/n, you’re so tight.” he grunts as his hips start to move, thrusting into you up and down as you bounce on top of him just slightly, still facing the TV. His hands slide up and down your body, one of them staying on your waist to hold you steady against him and support you while the other moves back up and pulls your shirt up until it pools against your collar bones. He kneads one of your breasts that he cannot get enough of. “Faster, baby.” you request and Tom is quick to obey as his thrusts start to speed up. His breath is husky, in your ear as he too now has the burden of hiding his own noises. “Y/n,” he moans, careful not to be much louder than the TV as he squeezes you hard. His new speed and angle allows him to hit your spot, never missing as he gets it with each powerful thrust, his thighs flexing beneath you. You moan, loudly only barely being overpowered by the TV. You can’t help it. You feel Tom’s hand fall from your breast and clasp around your mouth. He’s careful not to hurt you, but his hand covers your mouth with such a force that you gasp, moaning again, muffled by his calloused palm that smells so strongly of you. “Let it out, love. Let it all out into my hand.” he encourages, egging you on as he thrusts into you even harder. You moan, his hand muffling you as your voice vibrates and fails to sound as loud as it would have otherwise. You reach back, your hands digging into Tom’s scalp as you bounce on top of him, your breasts rippling as you do so. “Come for me love.” You give in as all the pressure builds up to a climax, a finishing point. You close you eyes and let out one last ungodly moan as your orgasm overtakes you, Tom fucking you through it as you spill onto him. Once you’re released from your trance, Tom sticks two of his fingers in your mouth, still thrusting into you, sloppier and sloppier as he himself is so close to finishing. You suck on them, happy to help as you can taste some of the remainder of yourself off of his fingers, swirling your tongue around them. “Oh, just like that. Fuck, y/n!” he moans your name as your nails still scratch his scalp, tugging on segments of his loose brown curls. You feel him come as he twitches inside you and his muscles loosen beneath you, the warmth coating your insides. You both take a moment, his fingers leaving your mouth as you resituate yourself on his lap, facing him so that you may embrace one another in the chill air of the night. After a couple minutes Tom turns the volume back down to normal and helps you clean up by carrying you to your shared bedroom where you take your time washing up and putting yourself back together. Tom cleans himself up and takes care of the couch, throwing the soiled blanket in the wash and getting out another one that he fully intends to cuddle you underneath. When you're ready, you re-emerge from your room and get comfortable on the sofa with Tom, laying down with him as you enjoy the last ten minutes of the film, but neither of you are intent on paying attention even with so little left. Instead you find yourself facing Tom, enamored by his beauty and encapsulated by his comforting charm as he presses soft chaste kisses on your nose and forehead, holding you close beneath the warmth of the blanket.

♡.-.♡.-.♡

As you and Tom prepare dinner the next evening, a simple soup for the sick boys, you look up the plot of the film online and read it aloud to him, still driven by a need to win every trivia night even if you neglected to watch the film. “It’s time people!” Harry calls from upstairs, startling you and Tom. “You ready?” you ask him, helping him untie his dorky apron as the nerves surge through you. “Ready as I’ll ever be.” he responds, lifting the apron over his head and laying it on the counter as he grabs your hand to lead you to the stairs. He can sense how tense you are, you hand firm in his as you take a deep shaky breath. “You're not nervous, are you darling?” You sigh as he takes your other hand in his, lightly kissing the top of it. “We can’t lose, Tom. We just can’t.” He giggles at your competitiveness, knowing it to get the best of you at times as it can you, but luckily, he knows just how to calm you down. “Want to know something?” he smirks. With a nod of confirmation, he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear and lowers his voice so that no one can hear him, but you. “Even if we do lose, nothing can make me regret last night,” He leans down now, bringing his lips to your ear as he whispers, “I’m happy to lose every trivia night if it means having you on top of me like that again.” You pull away from him with a smile, using your newly free hands to put up your hair so that it stays out of your face. “Keep talking like that, Holland, and I might just have to take you up on that.” He chuckles lightly and follows you out, joining you under the stairs as you look up to the other boys who stay perched at the top. “Finally,” Harry remarks, pulling out three index cards that no doubt holds his questions. “I was close to just giving Team Tuwarison the points for being the only team that showed up.” “No need,” states Tom, his glazing meeting yours as he nods at you in encouragement. “We’re ready.” His assurance ignites your confidence that your limited knowledge on the movie will be enough. You can feel the win already as Harry asks the first question, then the second, then the third, and then… “BLOODY HELL!” Tuwaine shouts in shock. “WE ACTUALLY WON!” Harrison yells, sharing the same sentiment as the two hug and jump in victory before separating to let out enormous coughs courtesy of the virus. You roll your eyes and pout from your place at the bottom of the stairs. “Oh, get over it you bastards.” “It won’t happen again.” Tom concurs, just as annoyed at the antics of the two as you are. “I CAN'T BELIEVE IT!” Tuwaine shouts again once his coughing fit is over. “Neither can I,” Harry agrees. “What happened? You two are usually always on your game and you couldn’t come up with a single answer this time.” “You know what?” Tom starts. “We actually fell asleep.” he lies. “Shame, I thought y/n really liked it.” Tuwaine acknowledges, remembering your conversation from the night before as your eyes go wide, but you’re quick to save yourself from embarrassment. “Oh you know what, I think that was just during the climax.” you joke, earning a playful elbow from Tom who cannot contain his laughter. You join him, pleased by the inside joke as the other boys look down at you in confusion, wishing they knew what you meant. “I can’t wait until this COVID is over. You two are too weird to have another movie night without supervision.” Harry declares, turning to retreat to the room he shares with Tuwaine and Harrison and searches for the film you all will be watching tonight … or not.

#tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland #movie #tom holland smut #smut #covid19 #first smut #sorry it took so long #sorry if it sucks #im just sorry #dont be silly wrap your willy

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hollandsfavbabe · 2 years

Note

Hi can I please request Arvin Russel x Reader, where your “friends” because you kinda are in the “popular” crowd at school, are jealous of her having Arvin. Maybe, they see you and Arvin out together at the move night, in his car making out feeling jealous they chat shit about you! And then the reader finds her friends trying to flirt with him one day but all they get is revenge from the reader. Arvin ofc is one loyal, man he just scoffs telling his mind to them not even holding back! Thank you so much, love your writing it is absolutely beautiful!! Free free to request anything from Tom Holland or his characters such as Arvin Russel and Peter Parker on my Page!! Plus look at my Sweet treat Party, don’t be shy to request!! Also Can we be mutuals? I would love to talk to you 🥰💜

a/n: tysm i had so much fun writing this!!! yes ofc we can be mutuals, message me anytime!

Gold Rush

pairing: arvin russell x reader

synopsis: in which you and arvin’s secret relationship is discovered after a steamy movie night

warnings: language, slight jealousy, a very loyal arvin

word count: 3.0k

masterlist

“Momma’s taking me to get my hair done again tomorrow.” Betty bragged, earning ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhh’ from the small group of girls that sat with her, all except you. You were hardly paying attention to the bratty girl who you hardly considered a close friend of yours. You hung out with the clique at school, participated in most of the conversations, but you weren’t close enough with any of them to see them anywhere else besides during school. In fact, there were many times when you would sit or walk with them, but not be entirely there, this being one of them as you glanced at the boy across the lunch yard from you.

Arvin Russell, to many a quiet boy who made no difference in the course of their life, but to you, he was everything. You two were certainly a pair, nothing official in the eyes of others, but together you shared a connection so strong, you couldn’t imagine any sort of realistic future without him. You kept your relationship on the down low, preferring to meet up in private and only steal quick glances in public when others were around, especially your small girl crew. Even Arvin’s sister Lenora had no idea about you two, though she had her suspicions Arvin was with someone while he was out all evening doing what he played off as ‘studying’ or ‘partner work.’

Your secrecy wasn’t that you were ashamed of him, the complete opposite actually. The girls you hung around were considered quite popular in your small town high school, all stupid rich with the finest clothes and nothing, but the best cuisine for lunch (how they got such fancy food in a rural town was beyond you). From past drama, you also knew them to have a nasty habit of stealing one another’s partners, especially Betty who claimed she was better off alone, but had a different fling every month that she always ended up dumping. Though you weren’t completely sure, you knew that the news of your relationship with Arvin would put you both at risk of breaking up due to pressure and the chance for him to score someone better off than you, financially. Your insecurities had come up in conversation before with the boy you loved so dearly, but even after he had assured you that he would never do such a thing, you took no chances. Arvin was yours and you were forever his.

Your heart fluttered as you saw Arvin turn his head, meeting your stare as he grinned and winked at you. You blushed, hiding your smile by covering your mouth with your hand and subtly waving for him to turn back around in an attempt to get your head back into the conversation. You wouldn’t have succeeded if it weren’t for Ivy, another girl in the group who was seated next to you.

“Whatcha looking at y/n?”

You turned to her, eyes wide as you quickly regained composure and shrugged it off.

“Oh you know me! Always gawking off.” you awkwardly laughed, hoping to play it off. To your dismay, all the girls turned to look where you had been staring, seeing the back of Arvin’s hat covered head as he obeyed your command to turn away, hiding his own grin.

“Hey, isn’t he that Russell boy?” one of the other girls asked, pointing him out. Your stomach dropped as conversation erupted around the boy who had your heart, something you definitely did not mean to happen.

“I hear he’s fucking his sister.”

“Oh don’t be silly Majorie! That boy couldn’t fuck a sock of he tried! He’s a virgin.”

“I don’t know about that. I’m betting you he has a whole six pack hidden under all that denim. Just look at those thighs!”

“You’re right. I bet he fucks better than half the actors in those rom-coms they keep coming out with.”

“None of those people are actually fucking, you idiot. That’s why it’s called acting.”

“Oh right, acting.”

You had heard enough. As if listening to them insult your beloved wasn’t enough to make you rage, the remarks they made about his body almost caused you to erupt. They were no better than the boys who harassed you all, sexualizing him in such a way, but you said nothing as you dusted off your skirt and packed up the rest of your lunch to leave. Betty, the unofficial ring leader, noticed as she perked up.

“Where ya going y/n?”

You smiled at her, hoping to not give away your anger.

“I just need to visit the ladies room before next period. I’ll see y’all later.”

“Do you want someone to go with you?” she offered, likely to send someone else instead of going herself. You shook your head. No way were you taking one of them with you.

“I’m alright thanks. Y’all can stay here and keep chatting, I don’t mind.”

Betty eyed you suspiciously, wondering what exactly you were hiding, but she didn’t voice her suspicions as she waved you off.

“Ok then, see ya.”

You walked back into the building and to your locker, spinning the lock dial to unlock it so you could put your lunch away and grab your books. As you opened the door, a folded piece of blue-lined paper fell from one of the aeration holes, fluttering down as it traveled to the floor, light as a feather. Once your hands were emptied, you bent over to pick it up and unfolded it. There were words written upon it, scribbled out in familiar handwriting that had you smiling at as you read through it.

Movie tonight? -A

You held it against your chest, closest to your heart as butterflies flew through your gut. You felt like flying right out of your shoes. As if it couldn’t get better, a voice sounded from behind you, low and slightly southern accented as the very person who wrote the note called out.

“So, what do ya say?” Arvin asked.

You turned around to find him stalking closer, noticing his hat slightly askew on his head as he neared you.

“I don’t know, that depends. Will there be … popcorn?” You asked, popping the p in a sultry tone and pausing for effect as you crossed your arms.

“Sure will.” he affirmed.

“And what about … soda?”

He leaned against the locker next to yours, inches away as he smirked at you.

“All different kinds.”

You leaned against your open locker door, facing him as you wore your own smirk. You reached out to fix his hat, turning it so that it lay straight in his head as it should.

“But will there be … candy?”

He chuckled, reaching for the hand that you had used to fix his hat and entwining his fingers with yours.

“Why ya tryna be difficult darling? Of course there’d be candy.”

You giggled as he placed a chaste kiss on the back of your hand.

“We’ll in the case, I don’t see why I shouldn’t go.” you agreed, knowing both of you were very well aware that your answer would be yes all along. Arvin beamed at you.

“Great. I’ll pick ya up at 8:00 then and we’ll head over to the drive-in.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Arvin leaned in, looking into your eyes and down at your lips. You didn’t pull away as he planted a kiss on them, pulling away for a second before going back in to kiss you again, really kiss you as his lips met yours. You almost gave in, never having gotten over the indescribable feeling of kissing him, but you knew better than to let him do that in public. You pulled away and scrunched your eyebrows in disapproval, a habit you had that Arvin loved. He thought you were extremely cute.

“Arvin,” you scolded. “Not in public. You know that.”

He shrugged, sliding a hand up to your face to cup your cheek, caressing it with his thumb.

“I’m sorry darling. Couldn’t help myself. You’re just so goddamn gorgeous.”

You blushed, turning to look at the floor and you pulled from his grasp and turned to walk the other way, the direction of your next class. You hoped he hadn’t seen your cheeks redden, but you knew he had.

“Later.” you called back to him, turning to smile at him as he smirked at you.

“Later then. I’ll pick you up tonight.”

“Don’t be late.” you teased, in a warning tone.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

He closed your locker door for you, turning the opposite directions to head to his own class.

As promised, Arvin picked you up on time, even a few minutes early to give you plenty of time to pick out your snacks. You held his hand the whole way there, his thumb tracing soothing circles on the back of your hand, the car ride silent save for the light radio playing. You didn’t talk, but you were both perfectly happy. Comfortable in each other’s presence and thankful for one another.

Arvin found a nice parking spot near the back of the drive-in, making sure it was still in view of the movie screen and yet out of the way of the projector to avoid being illuminated by it.

After the sun had set and the cool darkness of the new night blew in, the movie began playing and you two watched the beginning. As the night went on, you had eaten through a third of your popcorn and drank most of your soda as Arvin snacked on a some candy, but your snacks were tossed aside halfway through the film as you two got less involved in the movie and more involved in each other, caught up in a heated kiss. You couldn’t exactly recall how it started, who initiated it, any of the details really. All you knew was that he smelled like the cologne you knew him to wear since the day you two met and he tasted like red vines.

Your arms were wrapped around his neck, holding you closer to him as he had his own around your waist, supporting you so you could do just that. You felt sparks as your lips moved against one another, slow turning to passionate in mere moments. You felt his tongue against your lower lip, seeking entrance which you denied playfully, grinning against his mouth. Arvin moved one of his hands down and lightly pinched your bum, causing you to gasp in surprise and giving him the opportunity to explore your mouth as he wished. You gave in, pulling on the roots of his hair as payback while simultaneously never wanting the moment to end as you moved your tongue in sync with his. There were no leaders, no one followed the other. It was a bond, simple as that, a bond that you shared and you personally never wanted to break.

As the movie continued on, you found yourself moving more and more onto Arvin’s lap until you were straddling him, your hands tangled in his hair as he fondled with your bum, feeling you all over, anywhere he could reach. Your lungs burned as they longed for air, your breathing heavy as you and Arvin’s lips finally left each other’s. You looked at him through your lashes, you head tilted down as you sat a little higher above him than you would at your usual height, his lap giving you a small boost. He eyed you in front of him, breathing heavily as his left hand moved up your body to cup your face, his thumb tugging at your now puffy and red bottom lip. He leaned in closer, your noses touching as he mumbled against your lips.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?”

You chuckled, nuzzling your nose against his. It was now that heat would have flushed out your cheeks, but they were already rosy from kissing him.

“No more sweet talk, Russell. Kiss me again.”

“I only said one thing.”

“Mmm, I know, but it was too much.”

You pecked his lips, ready for it to get as intense as it was again until Arvin smirked and pulled away, fake glaring at you after you rejected his compliment. You were the one who cupped his chin this time, smiling at him.

“Hey. You know I’m just joking.”

You leaned into him, resting your forehead against his as he helped adjust you so that you sat comfortably against him, his arms wrapping back around you.

“I love you Arvin Russell.” you confessed.

It wasn’t the first time, you had already said your firsts months ago, but the effect you had on him, especially when you said those words, it never wore off. It was the same for him. Those three little words and he would have you melting, effortlessly, every damn time. Like a weakness, they got you at your most vulnerable. He pecked your lips again, this time with a little more force, his lips lingering on yours for a little longer. He picked up his head to break it, only for a second as he told you sincerely, “I love you, y/n y/l/n.” and before you knew it, his lips were back on your and you started making out again, intertwined and not to be unwound until at least the end of the movie.

School the next day felt long, nothing out of the norm, but you didn’t like it regardless. Not when you could be away from it all in the passenger's side of Arvin’s car as he drove you two to your special picnic spot. But alas, you were stuck with your cliché girl clique, dreaming of a weekend picnic. You had to remember to tell Arvin.

After your morning classes, you walked with one of the girls, Ivy, to your usual lunch spot when you noticed the other girls weren’t sitting down at your table like they normally would be. Instead you were horrified to see them all gathered around a table that was the usual lunch spot of a certain someone. You were stunned as Ivy dragged you towards them, listening as you heard them giggle and flirt with your boyfriend. There was no way they could have known, no way they found out about him so easily.

“I love that hat on you, Arvin.”

“Whatcha eating for lunch Arvin? How’s the taste?”

“Been working loads, Arvin? Doing some heavy lifting? I can tell.”

As you neared you noticed Betty sipping on what appeared to be a drive-in bag of gummy peach rings, eyeing you with a conniving look. That’s when it hit you. They must have seen you together at the drive in, they had to. One little mistake and now the wolves were after your love.

To your surprise, as you joined the crowd, the girls welcomed you with giggles.

“Lovely to see you y/n.”

“Is your lunch as good as your dinner from last night, y/n?”

“Come say hi to Arvin y/n! I’m sure you two know each other.”

You were red in the face, angry as you eyed Arvin who looked at you worriedly and glared at the girls.

“Ladies, I think we should give poor Arvin some space.” you suggested, hoping they’d take the hint and scram. Betty shook her head and placed her candy down on the lunch table.

“But we’ve only just started talking to him. I haven’t even gotten a chance to show him my new cut.”

She crossed a line as she bent down, her elbows squeezing her chest together to make her cleavage more obvious as she gave Arvin a seductive look. Arvin shifted in his seat, uncomfortably.

“So Arvin, how ya like my new hair? I just got it done this morning, missed first period. Go on, you can touch it if you’d like.”

You couldn’t believe it as your eyes watered, close to tears as you almost cried. But luckily, Arvin noted the lack of respect of boundaries as he stood and rolled his eyes. He made his way through the crowd of girls, scoffing as he reached for you and pulled you to him by your shoulder.

“Now, I’ve been tryna be nice and listen to y’all, but I can’t take another word. If this is how you react when you find out a girl that’s supposed to be your friend has a boyfriend, then I don’t want her to be friends with y’all no more. I’ve had it! Ya hear?!” The girls backed away, from you and Arvin as he moved his hand to grip your waist, a subtle message that he was here for you. They all nodded.

“Good. Now me an’ my girl are gonna go enjoy our lunch without all this nonsense. I don’t want to see any of y’all come near her again.” he started to walk off with you, the girls still shocked, but before you left, he turned back to one of the girls.

“And Betty, you best take care of that rat's nest on your head cuz it ain’t doing no one any favors.”

Betty looked appalled as you turned away from her and laughed with your lover, waiting until you were far enough away from the crowd to thank him at what was your new lunch spot.

You should never have doubted him, his loyalty to you. He’d never leave you for money, he’d never leave you for anything. Girls with centuries of financial stability had offered them up to him in your very presence and he never questioned being with you for a second. There was no hesitation as he rejected them. You were his soulmate, his forever partner, his best friend and all you could think as you stared at him is that you couldn’t have asked for a better one to call yours.

“Thanks baby. I think they needed that.” you expressed your gratitude, reaching for Arvin’s hand. He took yours in his and squeezed it briefly, sending his love for you through his touch. “Anything for my girl.”

#arvin russel x you #arvin russel x reader #arvin russel x y/n #arvin russel fic #arvin russel fluff #arvin russell #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #drive in #making out #car make out #clichè

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hollandsfavbabe · 2 years

Text

Family Line

pairing: arvin russell x reader

synopsis: in which y/n teagardin is forced move to West Virginia with her brother and in the process, finds a boy who might just make everything alright

warnings: language, sort of cringe (bare with me here), alluded sexual intentions

word count: 2.6k

masterlist

You were not happy. There was no other way of going about it. You missed your old life, your mother, and most importantly, you missed being away from you hated brother.

You had a pleasant life in Nashville. Nice friends, a nice house, and your favorite person by your side, your mom.

Before the switch, you could at least stand the sight of your brother, stifle your complaints and only let them out in your journal later on, but all of that patience had been flushed down the pipes. There was no more big house, no more friends, and any thought of having any sort of family relationship like the one between you and your mother was gone.

You all drove, you seated in the back with a scowl on your face while your brother and his wife sat up front. You wished you could go back home, but it was far too late now.

It all happened so suddenly. You returned from school to find your room bare, all of your things packed up in two large bags. There was no warning as your mother embraced you and sprung the news that you were moving. But she didn’t move, your mother was still in Nashville. It was your brother, she sent you to live with him, condemning you in every sense. You could barely breathe when it happened. Within an hour, you had been forced into the car and waved away, only told that your brother would care for your and you would have a wonderful new life in West Virginia with his new job as a pastor. Bullshit.

Your views didn’t line up with your families. You never had that communal sensation when you were taken to church, no interest in reading the Bible or dissecting its lessons. You didn’t disagree with it, you didn’t see Christianity as one thing or another. It just was and whatever it was, you always felt as if you didn’t belong with it. It was simply not for you. That was the only thing you and your mother disagreed on and if you had known that it would eventually land you in the home of the man you hated the most, you would have started pretending to be the church girl of your mother’s dreams ages ago.

Unlike your family who saw church as the place of worship it was created for, you looked it more as a place to sit and think and spent your time there practicing exactly that, entertaining yourself with nothing, but what was in your head. You utilized this skill on the trip, knowing it was all you had. All you knew was that the road ahead was steep and full of road blocks, and not the just kind had to drive around.

Eventually you all had gotten to your destination, but of course like everything in your life, the church came first. You hadn’t arrived at your new home, but instead the church your brother would preach at. You were ordered asked by him to go inside. After walked through the tiny building and meeting your dying uncle your brother planned to replace, you decided to go stretch your legs and walk along the graveyards where you were sure to be alone. That was until you spotted a girl and a boy not too far away, stood by a grave. You took cover behind the church, watching as they walked over to a car and drove away. Maybe you’d see them at school the next day. They had looked about your age.

The day had passed, your sister in law had cooked up a fine dinner, and before you knew it, Sunday had come. You only had a few days in school, transferring in during the middle of the week. The classes weren’t too hard, a small town’s curriculum nothing compared to your prep school in Nashville. You didn’t make any friends, preferring to sit back and observe your few peers. You had seen the boy from before and what you learned to be his sister, sad to notice that she was a target for harassment from the dickheads in your new school. The boy managed to stand up for her though, taking a few hits as he did so. You prayed he’d get them eventually.

The boy was particularly enticing to you as you watched him in your only class together. He was handsome, not in the privileged way with the pretty products the ritzy guys liked to use, but naturally. He had a sharp jawline, brown curls he hid underneath his beat up hat. The only problem was he didn’t talk to nobody so you never had the pleasure of overhearing his name.

As his sister was big on prayer and the lord, you hoped to see him at church when the regular folks would be greeting your family, welcoming you to the service your brother would be leading.

It was ten minutes of torture, standing beside your brother as he accepted food and blessed the people of his church. You watched, not the people who stood in line to meet you as the new Reverend’s sister, but for the boy with the brown curls.

And sure enough he came, in a white button up, wife beater underneath. His usual hat nowhere is sight as his brown locks were gently combed, greasy and cut short. You liked it, standing patiently by your brother, politely greeting church members as they offered their dishes and trying your best to avoid eye contact with the boy as he joined the line.

Finally he was next, the older woman he was with stepping forward to offer up her dish.

“Pleased to meet you, Reverend, Emma Russell.” the older woman introduced herself

You blanked as you glanced at the boy, pleasantly surprised when you noticed his stare was already on you. It wasn’t intense, but curious as you looked deeper into his eyes, those soft brown eyes. You couldn’t care less for the color before, but now brown was one of your favorites.

“Nice to meet you too. What you got there?” your brother asked next to you, sticking his finger into the dish presented to him and popping it into his mouth, swirling the juices around. Normally you would have been horrified, but his actions went unnoticed as you tried to block out every impure thought that came to mind when your gaze wandered down to the boys lips, pink and moist as he wet them with the tip of his tongue. Your heart sank a little as the boy looked over to your brother, his features contorting as he reacted to the pastor.

You took it as a cue to finally looked over to your brothers face, annoyed as you recognized his expression. He was feeling inspired to preach.

“Blessed…are they who hunger…and thirst…for righteousness.” he uttered. You impressed yourself with how well you managed to not roll your eyes, satisfied at the equally baffled look on the boys face. The younger girl next to him look tickled, as if she had been told that she was fancied while the older woman spoke.

“Hope you like them, Reverend.”

After a few more greetings, you were glad to find yourself settled in the front of the room, seated next to you sister in law and finished with meetings. Though you’d rather be many other places including, most scandalously, alone with the Russell boy, you were content with the lack of new people in front of you as they gathered together near the entrance of the church. You spotted him the crowd of floral dresses and casual suits before looking to your brother who dished himself up some food.

You were reminded of your hatred for him as the look reappeared on his face. There was no real meaning behind his sermons, no substance behind his preaches. He was one of those people who loved the sound of his own voice, so much so he felt it generous to share it with others. Sometimes you wondered if he had actually wanted to be a reverend, or if he just liked the sound of a job where he could preach to people his beliefs and in return got some praise from it.

He started up again, one of his ridiculous sermons as the people who watched him gave an amen to urge him on.

You thought it started off alright, not a hint of hipocracy or what you new to be his inner condescending narcissism. That was until he got to the Russell’s dish, insulting it by claiming he was sparing others by eating it himself.

You could not believe the level he had stouped too, going as far to call the boy’s family poor. She was disgusted as others cheered him on. In the crowd the boy caressed the older woman’s shoulder, comforting her as her dish was bashed. She looked like she was about to cry and the boy got that look he had when a boy made a pass at his sister in school. You shared that with him, you could feel your face heating up as the anger inside you burned.

Once everyone had been dismissed, you hurried and left to go outside, causing a small scene as you slammed the door behind you. You wished you could say you couldn’t believe it, but you most certainly could. You stomped off in the gravel, intent on kicking the crap out of you brother’s car, when the sound of the door opening and closing behind you shook you from your trance. There he was, the Russell boy in broad daylight, alone and staring at you as he walked forward.

“What do ya think you’re doing out here?” he demanded, his accent not quite as thick as others you had heard in this small town, but clear enough. You huffed as he stopped only a few feet in front of you.

“I could ask you the same thing.” you shot back. He huffed, sighing loudly as he bit his lip and stared at the ground before turning back to you.

“Shouldn’t you be inside eating my grandma’s chicken livers? Like that brother of yours?”

You fumed.

“You know nothing about that. You don’t even know me! I am nothing like him.”

Startled by your outburst, the boy back away a step, clearly figuring out he had gotten you all wrong as he promptly apologized.

“Look,” the boy groaned. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t tryna start nothing.”

You nodded, understanding, but starting to walk away. You did not take accusations well.

“I’m sorry about your grandma’s chicken livers.” you murmured to him before turning and walking away. That was until the boy spoke again.

“You know I’ve seen you in school,”

You stopped.

“You don’t talk to nobody there, do ya?”

You turned.

“I don’t have anyone to talk to.” you replied, honestly.

He smirked, still angry, but realizing his mistake for taking it out on you.

“I don’t get why you’re a shy one. I’ve caught you watching people. Even caught you watching me a few times.”

You blushed, nodding.

“What’s your name?” you asked.

“Arvin. Arvin Russell.”

You smirked, less angry now after finally knowing his name. The brawny brown curled boy was named Arvin Russell.

“Well Arvin. You’re right. I don’t talk to people. I don’t see you talking much either.”

Arvin nodded, well aware of his lack of a social life besides those guys who’d beat on Lenora. You continued.

“Then you get it. You’re like me. Nothing good happens when you talk to someone, when you let them in to hurt you. So I observe them, I see them from a safe distance because I’ve learned that once someone knows you, they’ll go in for the kill.”

It was true, at least to you it was. The only exception has been your mother, but you couldn’t really count her as one anymore after she had sent you to this hell hole with nothing good, but the boy in front of you.

“And what if you’re wrong?”

You were close now, only inches away.

“It’s like I said. You don’t know me Arvin, but I’m never wrong.”

“What if I prove you wrong?” He challenged as you raised a brow. He was testing you, no telling what he wanted with you. Honestly, you had zero objections to giving him your everything, but now wasn’t the time.

“If you want to prove me wrong, you’ll meet up with me here, 11:00 pm tonight.”

you started walking off again, circling one of the cars, recognizing one as you had seen it at school before with Arvin as the driver. You could feel the tension lessening the furtuer you got from him.

“This here your car?” you asked.

He nodded.

“Bring it with you.”

And with that you walked off, no location set in you mind as you promised to only be a few minutes, enough time for Arvin to return inside and for you to reset yourself before you made a reentrance.

When you had returned inside, the food had been served and people started heading home. Arvin’s family still looked in shambles, the older woman anyway, as he ushered them out, but not before stealing one last glance at you, meeting your gaze before leaving the room. There was only one thought on your mind. Why couldn’t 11:00 be sooner?

Arvin felt his fury rush back to him as his grandma was close to crying in their car as he closed the door to the driver’s seat.

“Now, don’t you worry about that pus-gutted blowhard. I bet he ain’t got two nickels to rub together.”

“I never been so embarrassed in all my life. I could’ve crawled right under the table.”

“All right, I’m gonna go talk to him.”

Arvin did want to beat the shit out of the reverend, especially if it meant another moment with his sister. He had been quite enamored by her since she had arrived. Only a few days and Arvin already imagined their life together. He did things like that, as weird as it sounded. He liked to imagine a world where he could get away from the chaos that was his life.

“No, Arvin. None of that. He sure ain’t the preacher I was hoping for.”

“Grandma, that ain’t no preacher. He’s as bad as they got on the damn radio. Heck, I bet he just wanted them chicken livers all for his own self. That’s why he did that.

You see the way he was gobbling them down.”

“You shouldn’t talk like that, Arvin,” Lenora muttered from the back. She unlike her family was quite impressed with the reverend. “Preacher Teagardin wouldn’t be here if the Lord hadn’t sent him.”

Arvin started up the car and backed out, driving back to his place as the girl crossed his mind again. He couldn’t stop thinking about her as it occurred to him that the girl he had been desiring so much, only just learned his name. And he didn’t know her’s.

“I just feel bad for that girl that was with him. She really shouldn’t of run out like that.” His grandma proclaimed. Arvin chuckled lightly as the thought of y/n calmed him.

“She’ll be alright.” He assured her, reminded of their meeting later that night.

“You outta make friends with her, Lenora. She looked awful lonely.” His grandma suggested.

Lenora liked that idea, getting closer to someone who could get her closer to the reverend. She couldn’t explain it, but she felt God pulling her towards him, an unmistakable force of gravity pulling them together to share what she could only pray would be her first true connection with another. She was like her mother, destined to fall for a man of God, one who ultimately be her death.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

#tom holland x y/n #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland #arvin russel x y/n #arvin russel x you #arvin russell #arvin russel x reader #arvin russel smut #tryna build a plot for porn

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hollandsfavbabe · 2 years

Text

Spider Terror

pairing: tom holland x fem!reader

synopsis: in which y/n and tom face one of his biggest foes: a fellow spider

warnings: a very fast spider, none

word count: 1.7k

masterlist

a/n: this was inspired by a real life event that happened a few days ago. this spider was chilling in my shower and it scared me so bad and my family asked if they could come in to help me, but i was completely naked so i had to deal with it by myself and i had to kill it :( i usually try to let those guys out if they’re wandering around. anyways, enjoy!

For once, it was a quiet day in the Holland home. Though rare, they did come about every now and then when the majority were out doing various activities and only a few remained. You and Tom were visiting his parents, both of you having a few much needed days off of work to rest. His parents were glad to have you and as always his brothers absolutely adored you, especially Paddy (you had been his longtime favorite actress). Used to the chaos of the Holland home, you were over often. Though functional, the Hollands were like any big family; a little bit wild. They were rowdy, loud, and extremely competitive even outside of family game night when it came to small things like who cooked the best dinner. You didn’t mind it, in fact you loved it. The only reason for the lack of noise in the house at the moment was because most of the Hollands were out for the day; Tom’s parents were with their friends at a couples golfing event, Paddy was off at school wishing he didn’t have to enrich his brain with so much knowledge, and you weren’t actually sure what the twins were away doing, only that they would have plenty of fun. That left you and your boyfriend alone to do whatever you wanted which, of course, meant getting loads of rest. You had spent the greater part of the day cuddled up in bed, watching movies and eating junk food that you agreed not to tell your trainers about. Tom had given a great deal of thought about taking you to couple’s golfing, thinking it the perfect opportunity for you to bond with his parents and to show off his golfing skills, but after neither of you could be bothered to wake up anytime before noon, he gave it up and promised to bring you another time. Anything else besides laying about would have taken too much energy. Currently you were relaxing downstairs on the sofa as you waited for your boyfriend to finish his shower so you could continue watching your show together. All seemed to be going well as the running water switched off upstairs and you heard the bathroom door open as Tom’s footsteps sounded towards his childhood bedroom you were sharing. Nothing out of the normal until you heard it, a scream from upstairs. Startled, you immediately jumped to your feet and ran up the stairs to his room to investigate, worried your boyfriend could be seriously harmed. “Tom?!” You called as you made your way up the stairs, alarmed. “Y/n! Hurry! Come help me!” he shouted as you quickened your pace. Once in front of the bedroom you pushed open the old creaky door expecting to see a bleeding out Tom in the floor. Instead you caught sight of your boyfriend on top of his old desk, wearing nothing but his towel around his waist as his wet hair dripped to the floor. If it wasn’t for the terrified look on his face, you would have been dying laughing, but you bit your bottom lip to hold it in. “What’s wrong?” you asked, stepping into the room. Tom’s eyes widened, looking down at the carpet that covers the floor. “There’s a spider, just there!” he exclaimed, pointing to the ground on the other side of his bed, the side you couldn’t see, the side closest to him. You almost died again at the irony. This time you released a small giggle and you started making your way to the other side. “So Spider-Man is afraid of a little spider.” you teased. “Honestly Tom, it’s not a big deal. I’ll just get a cup and some pap- OH MY GOD!” “See?!” Tom exclaimed. You saw the spider he was talking about and understood his fear. It wasn’t a tiny one like you had imagined, but decently sized. Not quite as big as a tarantula, but midway between one of them and a regular house spider. You gulped. “Okay,” you whimpered, losing all of your confidence, but not yet your courage. You neared the spider, thinking aloud your plan to his boy friend. “A cup will still work. I just need to get the one in the bathroom.” You took a step back, heading towards the door while keeping a close eye on the spider. It slowly turned as if to look at you and without any warning it started walking towards you at the quick spontaneous pace spiders go at. You screamed. “Tom!” you yelled as you raced over to him, jumping into the bed and then to the desk he was crouched on, already too small for one person. Regardless of the space on the desk, he reached for you and helped you up, wrapping his arms around you to hold you steady as you both looked down upon your enemy who had stopped crawling. “I told you.” he half scolded as you rambled out an apology. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” You buried your face into Tom’s chest, briefly forgetting that he had nothing on until you smelled his aftershave. “You smell good.” You complimented, calmed by his scent. “Y/n, there’s still a spider.” he reminded you, your head jerking away immediately as a serious look overtook your face. “Right, sorry.” You two tried to plan something, anything to escape the spider, but nothing you came up with seemed like it would work. “We’re just going to have to sit this out.” you decided as Tom nodded. “I’m afraid you’re right.” You two adjusted positions on the desk, making the most of the limited space and hoping another Holland would arrive home soon. Just to your luck, you heard the front door open as Harry called through the door. “Tom? Y/n?” He was looking for you. “In here!” “We’re up in the bedroom!” You and Tom shouted for him, listening to his steps as he made his way to you both. You saw curly hair peak through the door as he walked in and stared at you two in confusion. “We’re being held hostage!” you exclaimed. Tom pointed down at the arachnid, exclaiming, “Look!” Harry moved to the other side of the bed as you had and shook his head laughing as he neared the very thing preventing you from leaving. You and Tom shouted at him, warning him to not go near it, but we’re shocked as he ignored you and grasped it between his thumb and index finger. “You’re both terrified over a piece of lint!” he laughed, but instead of grinning you and Tom looked at each other with wide eyes. “If that’s not the spider-“ you started. “-where did it go?” Tom finished. It was then that Harry let out a squeal and surprised you and Tom by jumping onto the desk with you, clearing finding the spider as it crawled out from under the bed. You dodged him, ducking into Tom’s lap as he curled into a little ball on the desk. “It’s going to get me!” he yelled as you pinched the bridge of your nose, shaking your head. “What are we going to do now? He was our shot at getting out of here.” you stated as Tom nodded. “I know, love. We’ll just have to wait for the next one.” And so you did, waited and after half an hour, the next Holland returned. This time it was Sam who called, wondering where Harry had gone. “In here!” You all called as he entered the scene, taken aback by all of you. “What are you doing? And Tom, why are you naked?” he asked. “I’ve got a towel on mate,” Tom responded, annoyed. “And never mind that, we’ve got a real problem on our hands.” You thought about it and tilted your head, looking back at him to disagree. “No, actually that’s a good question. Why wasn’t Harry more stunned about that?” You asked as you and Tom both turned to Harry who shrugged. “I travel with the both of you. I’ve learned just to accept, not ask.” “Seriously, what the bloody hell are you doing?” Sam asked, turning the conversation back. As if sensing him, the spider you had been watching crawled over to him and Sam immediately jumped up, making a bee line towards the desk and sliding into Harry’s lap, much to the other twin’s dismay. “Oi! Get your own spot!” Harry shouted, only to realize there was not any room left with the four of him. There was barely enough as it was. The only way for Sam to avoid the spider was to hid in the safety of his brother’s lap. You groaned and looked back to Tom. “When do your parents get home?” you asked, hoping it would be soon. Tom frowned, trying to comfort you by lightly kissed your cheek before breaking the news. “Not for another hour, at least.” You and the twins groaned, all three of you accepting your fate, to sit upon the desk. “Now that we’re stuck here, I think we should have sharing time. Tom you start, seriously, why are you naked?” Sam asked again. Almost an hour and a half had passed and finally, the four of you felt relief as the Holland parents walked through the door. “Boys! Come on out for dinner! You too y/n!” Nicki called. You all yelled for her and in response she and Dom both made their way to your hiding place. “Oh goodness!“ Nicki exclaimed at the sight of all of you packed on one tiny desk. “What’s going on in here?” Dom asked as all four of you rushed to explain at the same time, talking over each other while and not daring to move from the desk. They couldn’t understand what you were all on about. Nicki walked forward. “Alright, one at a time,” she started before noticing what you were all on about. The spider inched towards her. She quickly grabbed a tissue from the box on Tom’s night stand and laid it over the creature, picking it up and throwing it in the bin without another word as her eyes went back to the lot of you. “Now, who’s going first?.” Your jaws all dropped.

#tom holland x fem!reader #tom holland #aracnophobia #i'm scared of spiders #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #holland #sam holland #harry holland #other hollands

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hollandsfavbabe · 2 years

Note

tom holland x fem!reader

they are ready to get dressed for the Oscar. They are nominated all the categories. The journalist tell them about how everything doing. After that, hopefully they will win Oscar. Luckily Tom is happy for you, he really loves you the most. *fluff*

(hope you write that, thanks so much and have a good day)

a/n: When I tell you, this request made my day! I've had something like this in my drafts for a while now and you gave me the motivation to finish it. It's not exactly what you asked for, but I hope you like it anyways. I also think it's important for anyone wondering ti know that my request are for mostly anything you want. I love requests like this where I write what you want to read, but if you need to rant or just need to get something off your chest, you can put that in there too. I'm here for you if you need me, for personal reasons or character preferences :) I'm delighted to receive either.

It's All For You

pairing: tom holland x actress! reader

synopsis: in which y/n is up for an oscar and is supported in every way by her boyfriend tom

warnings: cursing, sexual innuendo, a lot of fluff

word count: 4.0k

Masterlist

Your alarm buzzed next to you, an airy ‘wake up’ tune playing out from the speaker as you stirred awake. You yawned, stretching your arms and pushing the stop button, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. When you opened them, you didn’t recognize your room as the one you normally slept in. The sheets were much too bland, missing any sort of color as they were just white unlike your normal ones, paintings you had no memory of buying of forest scenery covered some of the walls, and most alarming, you couldn’t feel your boyfriend beside you where he usually lay, an arm wrapped around your waist. It was then you were reminded that you had checked into a hotel for the night and when you remembered why, you immediately jumped up from excitement and ran to the bathroom with your phone in hand.

The day you had been waiting to come for almost a month had finally arrived. Oscar day. Though you knew the wait was long and troublesome, you couldn’t help but reminisce on the nomination announcements not so long ago.

“Y/n,” said your boyfriend Tom.

You two were cuddled up on his sofa watching the best television known to mankind, American reality TV with you sprawled along the couch, your head on his sweat pant covered thighs while his fingers combed through your hair and scrolled through his phone synchronously. You both had been binging one particular show for hours, watching episode after episode on one of your only days off together, the consequence of which left you half asleep in his lap and him only partially paying attention to what was on the tv screen as he mindlessly scrolled through post after post, article after article. You picked up your head at the sound of his saying your name, turning it to face him.

“What?” you asked, a sudden worry of what he wanted to tell you rushed through you. His face was very serious and he didn’t use one of your pet names like babe or love.

“The nominations are out.” he stated.

You sat up, quicker than you would have liked as you head temporarily spun, and scooted over onto his lap, snuggling in as he adjusted his arm to fit over your stomach, holding you close as he shared his phone screen with you. You knew exactly what he was talking about and you needed to see them now.

You both had been looking forward to the release of the Oscar nominations as rumor was it, one of your movies was a possible nominee.

You watched as he scrolled through, looking anxiously for a name, yours or his or one of your moves that you had been working tirelessly to make.

Finally you saw it. The newest Spider-Man had been nominated for Best Visual Effects. You looked to Tom and snuggled closer to him, congratulating each other while you both tried not to freak out about your movie nomination. As you continued scrolling you passed many more categories, no more nominations. Neither of you got your hopes up, the one was plenty more than you had ever received before. That was until you happened upon the nominations for not only best actress, but best supporting actress where you were shocked to see you were nominated for not one, but both categories! You couldn’t believe it, your eyes wide in your skull. You slid from Tom’s lap and stood in his living room, staring at him. He himself had not been nominated for anything, but jealousy was not even close to how he was feeling. He loved you and to him that meant everything. He smiled as he noticed the look on your face, the look of pure shook. He was so proud. He didn’t care if his permanent fate was to never be nominated for an Oscar of his own because your happiness, your reaction to months of hard work, was so much more to him than any golden statue of a naked man.

He stood up and tackled you in a hug, telling you how proud he was of you and how much you deserved it while planting sloppy kisses all over your face as you laughed.

You locked the door to your hotel room lavatory as you tapped the FaceTime Icon on your phone and pressed Tom’s name. It only rang a couple times before he picked up, he having only barely woke up like you, but not having made it to the bathroom.

“Morning, love. Surprised to see you.” he greeted in his morning voice as you grinned.

The only reason he wasn’t with you right now was because of a rule your stylists had made years ago when you first started appearing on red carpets together. As close friends themselves, yours and Tom’s stylists enforced the ‘faux wedding’ rule upon you two after you started dating, meaning starting from the night before, until the actual event, you two were not allowed to see or speak to each other, as if you were getting married. The rule included separate hotels, separate fittings, no phone calls, and a whole lot of styling secrets. After a tiny mishap involving being late to a small press interview, it was decided that you and Tom were horrible at keeping your hands off each other, especially once you were all dressed up. You had to admit, you two were pretty bad sometimes, but you couldn’t help it and neither could he.

“I missed you.” you whispered, knowing your stylists would be in at any moment.

“I missed you too, love,” he let out a groan as he sat up in bed, his comforter falling into his lap showing off his toned chest and abdomen. “Are you excited for your big day?”

You shook your head smiling. “Absolutely terrified.”

Tom started into the camera smirking at you. “Pshh, nonsense. You’ve worked so hard for this y/n, it’s unbelievable. You’ve earned this day, own it.”

You blushed, thanking him before teasing back, “And so have you Mr. Presenter.”

Tom rolled his eyes in fake annoyance. “Right, how could I forget.”

While you were attending the awards in hopes of winning your own, Tom had been invited to present one of them and it just so happened to be one of the two you were nominated for, best actress.

There was a sudden knock on your door, no doubt it was your stylist. You flinched at it, knocked out of your dazed stage talking to your boyfriend as you looked back at him on your screen.

“Tom, they’re here. I’ve got to go.”

He laughed and stood up.

“Mine’ll be here any minute now as well. I best be going too.” You giggled. “I love you, darling. See you tonight.”

You blew him a kiss, answering “Love you too.” before hanging up. Perfect timing as at that exact moment your stylists had busted into your room with their copy of your room key. You stepped out of the bathroom, a guilty smile on your face as you hid your phone behind your back.

You makeup artist, Sharon, walked closer, inspecting the scene. Behind her was your hairstylist, Amir, wearing the same suspicious look as Sharon. They knew exactly what you were up to, but you tried your best to hide it.

“Having a nice talk in the toilet?” Amir asked. You shrugged.

“I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about.” you lied as the rest of your team walked in and got to work.

It took hours of laboring, all of which you enjoyed surrounded by people you considered to be friends. You had some visitors, but only a few including your manager and publicist who walked you through interviews while wishing you luck.

You could not believe it was time to go when your car came. Ready in your dress and all glammed up, you still were in denial that any of it was real.

The car ride passed by in a blink of an eye and soon enough the car door opened and out you came, greeted to the carpet by a horde of flashing lights.

You couldn’t see him, but further away in the middle of speaking with a journalist was yours truly, Tom Holland. He was discussing some Spider-Man related topic when you stepped out of your car. Immediately, all eyes were on you, including Tom’s. He stopped short, leaving an unfinished sentence as he zoned out. You were absolutely beautiful in your dress and best of all you were his.

“I think that y/n l/n just arrived. Any comments?” he was asked, the journalist attempted to get his attention back. Tom looked back into the camera and nodded.

“She’s amazing. Gorgeous as ever.” And with that he continued talking about whatever topic he had been on about before, only much slower and his answers much less informative. He was clearly distracted.

Meanwhile, you walked the carpet like you did all others, pausing for photos and making different poses all of which made your dress look stunning.

You began your own share of interviews, answering questions like “How does it feel to be an Oscar nominee?”, “Are you liking your first time at the Oscars?”, “Can you tell me what blank smells like after you meet them tonight?”, nothing new.

After finishing the carpet, you were directed to take your designated seat inside the huge hall where hopefully you would be receiving your award. After stepping away from all of the photographers and interviewers, you sighed, happy to be alone for just a second before spending loads of time in a hall surrounded by people, when suddenly, you felt someone grip your hand and gently pull you aside into a darker vacant part of the building. You didn’t even have to see who it was as Tom pressed you up into the nearest wall that covered the both of you, leaving you both all alone.

He was gentle with you, treating you as if you were as fragile as a butterfly. He certainly thought you were more beautiful than one.

“Hey lovely.” he greeted you, smiling a sheepish grin. You had him completely whipped. You giggled.

“What are you doing?” you asked, referring to wherever he had just stolen you away to. He didn’t reply instantly, more interested in looking you up and down, taking all of you in. You felt a blush creeping up your cheeks.

“I’m just checking you out. You look absolutely stunning tonight, darling.”

You too took the chance to take a better look at his suit, impressed by how form fitting it was.

“So do you.”

Tom leaned in closer, one of his knees sliding between your legs as his hands moved to massage your upper arms.

“This dress, y/n. It looks fucking unreal on you.” he complimented, leaning in to your neck. He pressed a kiss to your exposed collarbone, one feather light as he was careful to not leave any marks. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have you. 7 billion other people on Earth and he got to spend his life with you.

He moved upwards, kissing up your neck and just below your jaw as you moved your head to give him more access. His touch though soft was full of sparks, setting off butterflies each time his lips met your skin, his hands making their way down to your waist. You hummed out of pleasure.

“Hmm, you don’t even wanna know how long it took to put this thing on.” you referred to your dress. Tom laid one last kiss on the very edge of your jaw before picking up his head to look you in the eye.

“Sounds like you're going to need help taking it off.” he suggested in a sultry tone.

You nodded in agreement, taking both of Tom’s hands into yours as you gazed into his brown eyes. “You already know you’re the number one man for the job.”

He chuckled, closing his eyes as you closed yours and resting his forehead against your own, your noses bumping, your lips inches away.

“I want to kiss you.”

You smiled, tempted by him standing right in front of you. You wanted that too, badly, but you knew what would happen. You would both get too carried away and who knew, maybe the rule would be extended to until after the events. You couldn’t risk it, especially after your makeup took so very long.

“Later baby, I promise we can later.” you assured him. It was torture for the both of you, but the awards would pass soon enough. Tom groaned, understanding, but still wanting you just as desperately.

“You’re right,” he agreed, settling for one last kiss to the very corner of your lips before pulling away. “Let’s go find our seats. I asked that we be put together.”

Together you made your way, hand in hand, to the seats that were reserved for you two. You were in an aisle seat, near the front, but a good distance from the stage. People filed in, actors, filmmakers, and other creative directors alike. Many people came up to greet you and Tom, wishing you luck or congratulating you on your movies. You two were gracious, patient and kind, but held a deep yearning for each other.

It was after everyone had gotten settled that the awards started, the categories listed one by one with the nominees and eventually the winner. When it got to Best Visual Effects, you and Tom shared competitive looks, crossing your fingers only for another movie to win the award. You hadn’t seen it yet, but by the looks of the trailer, you were sure it was well deserved.

Tom had to leave a few moments later, kissing you briefly on the cheek before whispering good luck in your ear and walking away to prepare for presenting his award.

Anxiously, you sat through a few more categories before it got to one of yours. Best Actress in a Supporting Role.

“And now the nominees.” said Oscar Isaac who happened to be the presenter for this particular award. Through the speakers you heard his prerecorded voice announce your name and movie along with the other actresses up for the award. Tom’s absence was taking a real toll on you. He was your rock when you got nervous like this, the only thing to keep you steady.

Oscar held the envelope with the winner, opening it slowly, the anticipation nearly unbearable.

“And the winner for Best Actress in a Supporting Role is….,” He opened the envelope as your heart stopped beating.

“Florence Pugh, The Year of Goodbyes!”

You smiled and clapped as Florence made her way to the stage. You were disappointed, just as anyone would be, but as a friend of Florence’s, you were happy for her all the same. After all, you completely agreed, she was a brilliant actress.

As Flo gave her speech, your heart restarted at its normal rate. When she finished you made sure to cheer loudly earning a look from her as she waved at you. Politely, you waved back and gave her a thumbs up, mouthing ‘congratulations.’

She bowed her head as a thank you before leaving the stage.

You knew there were only a few more awards before your own was announced. Your whole body felt like jello as your nerves took over when Tom took the stage. This was it, your last hope. The event that determined whether you left the way you came, a nominee, or if you left as something a bit more, a winner. Tom spotted you in the crowd and smiled, trying to settle your nerves. It worked, mostly, he had that effect on you, washing away your worries with a grin before taking the mic.

“Good evening ladies and gentlemen. I’m Tom Holland, and here are the nominees for Best Actress in a Leading Role.”

The huge screens behind him illuminated with pictures, five nominees in total.

“Elizabeth Olsen, Trapped in Heaven,

“Emma Stone, The Seventh Trap,

“Anne Hathaway, Signs of a Blackened Staircase,

“Scarlett Johansson, Plague,”

You saw your picture next, a shot of you from your movie. Tom looked at you as his voice read, prerecorded from the speakers. No cameras noticed, but he nodded at you, encouragement that no matter what, you were a winner in his eyes.

“Y/n l/n, The Way of the Wild.”

Once handed the envelope, Tom fiddled with it, undoing the sticker that sealed it. As he looked at the name, you searched for any sign that it was you, any hint of a proud smile, a clue that y/n l/n was written on the page, but you should've known better. Tom was a professional actor, same as you. He got paid to conceal his own feelings and put on the mask of a character. His face stayed blank as he picked his head up, facing the crowd as his next words left his mouth.

“And the Oscar goes to…”

You couldn’t take it anymore and you began to feel very hot, your heart once again seemingly stopping where it rested in your chest. If your boyfriend’s goal was to force you into induced cardiac arrest by taking such a long time, he was certainly about to succeed.

“Y/n l/n for The Way of the Wild!”

Tom spotted you and smiled wide as he announced your name. You felt as if all the air in your lungs had suddenly been forced out, any words you had were suddenly forgotten. Your jaw dropped.

Applause rang throughout the hall, people clapping loudly and cheering from their seats, Tom even using his fingers to whistle for you as you stood up. As if you suddenly weighed the equivalent of a piece of paper, you walked over to the stage feeling nothing, but complete shock. Absolutely incredulous.

There was no way, you couldn’t have won. Somehow it all felt so surreal. You had put in the work, you knew about the nomination, yet as you got on the stage, you couldn’t believe what was happening. Tom took your hand, leading you towards the microphone as he could tell you weren’t entirely present, still caught up in your head. You were handed your award, the coveted golden Oscar and stood in front of the mic, a single tear running down your face that was wiped away by Tom who placed a quick kiss on your cheek.

He was ecstatic, so unbelievably proud that you could’ve mistaken him for the newly announced winner.

The crowd quieted as you took the mic, coming mostly back into reality. You felt like you had just started breathing again.

“I’m so sorry, I’m trying not to cry,” you admitted, earning laughs from the crowd. “I just can’t believe it. I’m just speechless! Good thing I wrote one beforehand, otherwise we’d be doomed.”

That joke sent the crowd into another small fit of giggles. You smiled, wiping away another tear before continuing.

“There are so many people I want to thank that I’m upset I can’t because of the time, but I’ll get to them later on. Firstly, I want to thank anyone who had a part in The Way of the Wild. That movie already meant a lot to me when I read the final script, but now, the memories I have from filming and the friends I have made from it definitely make it my number one. From the incredible director to all of the VFX team members, thank you so much. You’ve made this award possible for me.

“Next I really want to thank my team. I would not be able to function if they weren’t there to help me with so many things, I’ve lost count by now. You guys have had my back since my big breakthrough and I couldn’t be more grateful.

“I also want to thank any first responders watching this recording or if you're in the audience. This year has been very hard, but it would’ve been harder had you not been there to protect us.”

You took one last look around the room and your eyes landed on Tom. You continued, looking back out to the crowd.

“And lastly to one of my best friends, someone who has supported me and stood by me since the very beginning and stands with me here today on this very stage. Tom,” you looked at him. “You are the reason I’m here, the reason I’m still an actress even. You gave me a purpose when I didn’t think I had one. You made me feel valuable back when no one wanted me. I have so much I want to tell you, but for now, know that as I accept this award, it’s in honor of us. I love you Tom. To us.” You turned back to the crowd and smiled. “To all of you!”

And with that you finished, leaving the stage as Tom took your arm and led you away.

You received many congratulations from all sorts of people, thanking all of them with grace and sincerity. Even Oscar Isaac came up to you, casually mentioning his hope to see you at the after party which you agreed to even though you had no intention of going. You had other plans.

You and Tom’s car was waiting in an alleyway, far from flashing lights and prying eyes. Tom told the driver he would be taking you both back to your hotel and opened the door for you, helping you climb inside where you both were safely hidden from the public behind tinted glass and a separator from the driver’s seat.

As the car started moving you turned to Tom who was already staring at you, a sly smile on his face.

“I still cannot get over how beautiful you are.” he confessed. You shook your head blushing.

“Sharon did a good job, didn’t she?” you asked. Tom shook his head.

“She did, but that’s not it. It’s just you, you're beautiful.”

You reached out and grabbed his hand, smiling at the compliment.

“Can I tell you something?”

Tom nodded and you leaned in to whisper to him.

“You know when I wrote my speech, originally it didn’t have anything about you.”

“So you’re saying you made it all up?” he joked, forcing an eye roll out of you.

“I’m saying I said what I felt. How I think I’ll always feel. I love you.” you confessed again.

Tom reached his hand out to cup your check, smiling as he leaned in.

“Does this mean I can kiss you now?”

he whispered against your lips, his breath hitting your top lip. You giggled.

“I think we’re good now.” you agreed, tilting your head to compliment his as he leaned in smiling.

At long last his lips were on yours, moving in sync as you lost yourself in him.

“I love you too.” he mumbled between kisses. You wrapped your arms around his neck, forcing yourself closer to him as he helped part the fabric that prevented you from straddling him. The wait was long, but it was worth it. Tom though so too as he intensified the kiss, running his tongue along your bottom lip.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but when you arrived at your hotel, your hands were tangled in his curls and your makeup was partially smudged. Caught up in the moment, you two broke apart once the car had stopped, satisfied from your night out and more than ready to shut the rest of the world out to be with each other.

“I think we should take this upstairs.” he chortled, wiping off some of your lipstick from his lips. You nodded and exited the car with your new Oscar, ready to spend the rest of the night all alone with the person you loved more than anyone.

“I’ve got the top suite. If we run we can make it in under a minute.”

And so you did.

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland x actress!reader #tom holland x fem!reader #tom holland x famous!reader #oscars #best actress

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hollandsfavbabe · 2 years

Text

By Your Side

pairing: tom holland x reader

synopsis: in which y/n tries to help tom improve at roller skating as several obstacles get in their way of having a good time

warnings: 2nd hand embarrassment, slight injury

word count: 3.5k

Masterlist

“C’mon Tom!” you shouted, rushing to the tinted black glass doors of the building in front of you. Behind you, your boyfriend lagged behind, locking the car with the keys and groaning to himself, not wanting to ruin your excitement. The sun was setting behind you painting the sky with pinks and oranges as the light blue of the day surrendered to the navy of the night.

“Slow down love, I’m coming.”

Once he had gotten closer to you, making his way up the concrete steps, you pulled the door open and rushed inside as Tom kept it open for you, catching it so that it didn’t whack you from behind in your scramble to get inside. He knew you couldn’t help it. The whole drive over you could hardly contain your excitement and now, here you both were, surrounded by neon lights and loud music, inside the roller skating rink.

It had only been a few days since Tom had come home and after all the ‘I missed yous’ and ‘I love yous’ had been said, after one day of getting back into the rhythm of living with one another, going roller skating was all you talked about. You had been begging Tom to go with you and as the caring gentleman he was, he had agreed. You assumed it was because he too wanted to go, but unbeknownst to you, agreeing to go roller skating wasn’t easy for him.

Six months away from work took a toll on Tom, he much preferred staying in bed with you all day, snuggling until hunger forced you both to get up and then moving to the couch for even more snuggling. Maybe a brisk walk or two in between so that Tessa could get her daily fix of exercise, but other than that he was hoping you would go along with his plans of making the bed your permanent settlement for a while, also open to including the couch of course. Going out to roller skate was definitely not what he had in mind. Even if he wanted to go outside and be active, roller skating made the bottom of his to-do list.

While you also needed your daily dose of cuddles from Tom, you were dying to go out with him. As someone who had gone out skating all your life, you were more than comfortable in the space before you, the smell of sweat and rented skates nothing new to you. After hearing about a couple's night from a friend of yours at this particular rink, you couldn’t get the mental image of you and Tom skating about out of your head. There was just one problem he hadn’t told you about that prevented all of that…

Tom couldn’t skate.

That was a stretch. He could in fact skate, just not well. It was one of the few things he was absolutely awful at and after one bad experience he had with it as a kid, he refused to try again.

It was one of his worst memories. He and his brothers were out on the pavement, skates strapped to their feet and a finish line drawn out in purple chalk a few meters away. As the oldest and most agile, it was expected that he would be the one to prevail as he did at so many other things, but instead of crossing the finish line first, young Tom had found himself in dead last, sprawled out on the pavement with two scraped up knees and a temporary loss of respect from his younger brothers. He was horrible at roller skating and any motivation to improve was lost on that day so many years ago. That was until you wouldn’t drop the suggestion of going out to the rink and though he dreaded it, you meant more to Tom than any bad memory. With you by his side he was ready to face his fear. Ready, brave, but still scared nonetheless.

After taking it all in for a moment, you reached for Tom's hand, grabbing it and forcing him over to the skate rental counter. He walked beside you, pulling out his wallet hesitantly.

You both filed in line, standing behind a group of teens and a small family. Although today wasn’t couples day, you were not patient enough to wait until the next one. Tom pulled out his card and tucked his wallet away.

“Are you sure about this y/n?” Tom asked beside you. You looked at him confused, unsure what he was referring too. How hard could renting skates be?

“Yeah, I mean, it’s easy. Just tell them what size you are and they’ll get the skate for you.” you explained skeptically.

“That's not what I meant.” he smiled, slightly amused. “I mean this whole skating thing. Are you sure this is what you want to do?”

The family in front of you cleared from the line as they got their skates, leaving you two and the teens.

“Yeah, I told you, it’s gonna be great. We’ll have so much fun!” you exclaimed, looking at Tom as he gritted his teeth. You knew that look. He was hiding something.

“Wait a minute. Tom, is there something you want to tell me?” you asked.

He hesitated looking from you to the rink to the right of you and back to you. He wasn’t planning on telling you about his fear, but he should have known it’d come out eventually. You knew him too well.

“Yeah it’s just, uh…” he took a deep breathe. “idontknowhowtoskate.” he sputtered. You shook your head.

“The music is too loud, babe, I can't hear you.”

He frowned and repeated it, slower.

“I don't know how to skate.”

Your smile diminished, only a bit. Tom was worried he had wrecked all your fun until you sprung a loose hug on him.

“Oh Tom, why didn’t you just say so! It’s okay if you can’t skate.” you stated, pulled away from him, but keeping a firm grip on his hand. He was shocked.

“What, really?”

“Yeah. Now's the perfect time to learn. I can help you.” you suggested.

“Are you sure? I thought you’d want to have fun here. Won’t I be ruining that?”

You were blown away by his sincerity, shaking your head wildly as the teens in front of you started making their way from the counter. You leaned in a little closer to him so that he could hear you better, placing your hand on his shoulder and squeezing it reassuringly.

“Tom, I wanted to come here to spend time with you. I've had plenty of fun skating all by myself and going fast, but I've never been able to do it with you. As long as you’re here, that’s all that really matters to me. I don't care if that means I'll be helping you, in fact I'm happy to.”

Tom fought the urge to kiss you right there, your words touching as he smiled at them. You continued.

“The only thing that might ruin our fun is those jeans.” you stated, pointing to his choice of baggy denim that was typically frowned upon at skating rinks. You on the other hand had come prepared in black leggings and one of his t-shirts.

“What!” he exclaimed. “I thought you said what I was wearing was fine.”

You gritted your teeth, guiltily.

“I wanted to leave sooner,” you admitted. “Besides, I’m sure it’ll be fine. Maybe just a small hazard.”

“Small hazard?!” Tom questioned, wishing for you to further explain, but you were saved by the woman working the counter calling you forward as you were next.

You both told her your size and Tom paid with the card reader nearby. Together you made your way over to the few seats, emptying your things and shoes into one of the cubbies nearby before sitting down to put on your skates. You put yours on first, quickly before helping Tom with his own. Before long you were both standing at the entrance to the rink.

“Ready?” you asked, turning your gaze away from all the people dancing along to the slow beat of the song and to your terrified boyfriend.

“Uh yeah, just a sec.” He reached over grabbing a walker with wheels on the bottom. You shook your head.

“No need for that babe.” You scolded him before pulling it away. “I’ve got you, hold my hand and you’ll be fine.”

Tom grabbed onto your hand, nearly falling over without complete stability before steadying himself on the railing.

“Alright y/n. I’m trusting you.”

“Don’t worry, I got you.”

You lead him onto the floor of the rink, only holding one of his hands, but turning around and skating backwards to keep him steady with both hands. His legs shook, hard, but they didn’t fail him. You made sure you pace was slow, paying no mind to the people that skated around the both of you as a young boy blew past, skating fast as he passed you.

“That’s it!” you encouraged me. “You’re doing great babe!”

Tom smiled, assured partially, but his lips fell back into a neutral position as he focused on his feet. After a while he started feeling more stable and let go of one of your hands, still upright on his own two feet. He could hardly believe it, so far he hadn’t fallen once. An entire song had passed and after noticing his newly found stability, you asked if he felt ready and comfortable enough trying on his own. With you remaining at his side of course. He agreed, letting go of your hand, stabilizing himself on a nearby wall before pushing off it lightly and following closely after you as you faced him, skating backwards. You didn’t want to stray far, staying right in front of him so you could assist if needed, but he didn’t. Instead he straightened his once crouched posture and grinned at you, speeding up.

“I'm doing it!” he exclaimed.

“Yes! I knew you could!” you encouraged, excited at his epiphany. He had made tremendous progress in such little time.

Suddenly, the same little boy from before sped past a bit too close to Tom.

“Sorry!” he called out as your boyfriend was forced to the ground, knocked right off his feet and onto his back. You lunged for him.

“Tom! Are you okay?” you asked, grabbing a hand to help him to a sitting position.

“Yeah, fine.” he grunted, regaining his breath. You were ready to call it off. It was only one fall, but if he really wasn’t enjoying it that much, you knew you’d rather stop that and enforce more suffering upon him. As excited as you were to be there, staying with someone who was not as elated did not sound as appealing as moving on to do something else.

“I'm so sorry Tom. We can head home now, i’m sorry i-“

“No.” Tom stated. You looked at him confused as he let go of your hand to push himself up, leaning against the nearby wall for support, but regaining his stance from before.

“No, I can do it.” he assured you, starting forward as you had taught him and regaining some momentum. “It's just one spill, love. I've been through worse.”

You sighed. As much as you wanted to stay, you knew your boyfriend had a habit of running himself through the ringer before giving up. You found it a noble quality, but also one that required an outside opinion to separate the good ideas from the bad. You weren’t sure what this was, but you didn’t want to risk him getting hurt any more, especially not when he had reshoots in a few weeks.

“Okay, but the second you stop liking it, we’re leaving.” You demanded as the song changed again. Tom nodded, gripping your hand as you continued on.

“Sure, but not yet. Besides, isn’t this one of your favorite songs?” he asked. You paused for a moment, realizing he was right as the intro to one of your favorite oldies played. It must have been 80s night as this rink in particular stuck to pop hits and 2000s nostalgia.

“Yeah, it is.” you agreed, calmer with your favorite song playing in the background as you and Tom kept skating.

He was getting much better. It was almost annoying how quickly he seemed to pick it up, his talent for being good at just about everything shining through yet again. You weren’t upset about it though. As long as he was having fun, you couldn’t ask for more.

Before long, you two were giggling and having tiny races, nothing too fast, but just enough to test Tom's speed a little more. All was going well until the DJ spoke through the mic after a few more songs.

“Alright skaters! it’s time to put it in reverse for the next few hits. Turn around and go clockwise!”

Tom looked at you filled with dread as everyone around you switched from counterclockwise to clockwise. You knew what it meant, he wasn’t ready for it.

“Alright, I get it. We can go now.” you started, turning towards the exit. You knew how hard it could be for a beginning to switch, even with how simple it sounded. But Tom surprised you as he pulled your hand gently and led you clockwise, stumbling a bit, but never falling.

“I'm doing fine y/n, let’s go with the flow.” he assured you, intertwining his fingers with yours and pulling you closer to his side. You giggled and fell in, syncing your feet with his as you two skated in the opposite direction. Tom struggled a bit at first, but he caught on after only a few times around the rink. It was easier now. Half an hour passed and the rink was reset back to normal. Tom had really improved, gliding around the rink like a natural. You wondered what had been such a hold up the first couple of times he tried as the announcer came on the speakers again.

“Attention skaters! it’s game time! please leave the floor if you don’t intend on participating and regular skating will resume soon. Otherwise the races will commence in approximately two minutes! good luck skaters.”

You looked at Tom and gestured to the exit, expecting him to follow along. What surprised you is that he did not follow the other older skaters who were leaving to sit for a while. Instead he looked at the small congregation of much younger skaters who stayed.

Instantly, he was reminded of the race against his brothers. Though not on solid concrete, he had the same feeling about it that he felt now. He tried to run through the possible consequences of participating, but the more he tried to convince himself not to, the more he realized his mind was made up.

“I think I'm going to race y/n.” he confessed to you. Your jaw dropped in utter disbelief. There was no way.

“Tom, I don't even race. It’s mostly kids, that’s why they put in these small games. It makes it more fun for them. You don’t want to do that.” you stated blatantly. Tom didn’t flinch, he didn’t move and he looked you deep in the eyes and you understood what he meant.

“It’s the ultimate test y/n, I don’t think I can leave until it’s over.”

In other words, ‘I don’t want to, but I have to.’ You were sure there were better ways of proving his skill, but you understood as you let go of his hand, leaving it with one last squeeze.

“Alright, but I'm going to wait and watch right over there.”

You pointed to a bench by the rink. Tom nodded and skated further away, headed towards the group of young children.

“I'll see you after.”

“Good luck.”

And with that he was off, joining in on the crowd where nobody was even close to his age. He was the only adult participating. You shook your head at his foolishness.

A referee came on the rink not a minute later, whistle in hand as the children lined up, to a black sheep in a line of stark white ones. He took a starting position, bending down before taking off. You could hardly believe it as he took the top place, one of the fastest in the small bunch of children he had joined and only getting faster.

On the other side of the rink was the referee, handling a line of yellow tape that was meant to indicate the finish line. Tom was speeding towards it, nearly the first one. He had barely come behind another girl, but unlike her, stopping crossing the line, Tom kept going at a speed that was now too fast. You felt your eyes widen as it all unfolded.

Tom sped only a few feet more before coming to an abrupt stop, running into the hard brick wall which shot him back into the floor of the rink. As he fell, you felt yourself jumping up onto the rink, hurdling over to him while crying his name. Others watched in shock, many of the smaller kids laughing at your boyfriend while parents tried to shut them up.

You knelt down to him, placing a hand to his cheek to which he let out a groan.

You both left immediately, heading straight for a clinic where in fact Tom was diagnosed with a mild concussion. You drove home, looking over to Tom anxiously in what was usually your passengers seat as he leaned against the window.

“I’m so sorry, baby.” you apologized again, tucking him into your bed after closing any sources of light.

“It's alright, love. I'm just glad I finally did it.” he cheered himself on, more conscious now that he was surrounded by you and darkness. You held onto his hand and laughed, climbing into your own spot on the bed. You had already offered to get him something besides water and tea, but all he wanted was you. There would be time to eat later.

“You sure did.” you agreed, recalling your shock as he rammed into the wall, how you jumped into action and rushed to his side. All he seemed to care about was not getting dead last, and you had to admit, it was quite the spectacle.

“Y/n?” Tom questioned, his voice softer as the exhaustion in him came out.

“Hmm?”

“Does this mean we can cuddle now?”

You remembered how eager he had been to get back into bed since you had left earlier that day. You giggled and leaned over to him, kissing his cheek and nestling into his side and he adjusted his position to bring you closer to him.

“Yes. We can cuddle for as long as you like.”

In response, Tom placed a soft kiss on your forehead. It wasn’t even dark outside yet as the time was only six pm, but you figured you were tired enough. You started to drift off to sleep, hearing Tom start to snore softly against you.

You thought the day over, reviewing the skating trip and deciding that your next one would be pushed far into the future. You had gotten everything you wanted from this one and that memory, one of you and Tom grinning as you skated side by side, replayed in your mind as you drifted off to sleep.

#tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland x fem! reader #roller skating #fluff

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