#laineyxsannawc

[jupiterparker]

Literal Perfection (p.p)

Words count: 1.6k

Paring: Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: none

A/N: a/n: this is for @celestialparker and @galaxy-parker’s writing challenge

Prompt: “I wish you hadn’t told me.”

In which -> secrets aren’t the best

You were never a huge fan of secrets. It wasn’t like you had traumatic events associated with them or anything. It was just, in general, the feeling you had when it was revealed to you, or the fact that people were capable of them.

Sure sometimes secrets are for a good reason, such as surprise parties. However, you weren't even a surprise type of person.

But in general, secrets weren’t always good, they usually weren’t.

You decided that the day you found out that all your friends had banded together to exclude you. Usually, you all made plans together at lunch, but recently you had been busy with clubs and getting help from teachers. Because of that, you didn’t question why you didn’t know of plans until you asked about that.

But when you had a break coming up, you had asked about plans in advance. That week you were less busy than usual, so you had sat with them at lunch that entire week.

“Want to do something this break?” you asked your friends as you were crossing the road, going home from school. You were happy to actually be present for once at help make plans. But you weren’t expecting all the girls at your table to glance at each other and share a look.

“Um actually, we already have plans,” one of them said. You looked at her for clarification, and she instantly looked away. You frowned and turned to everyone else, only to be met with silence.

“Anywhere there?” you joked, hoping to lighten the mood.

“I mean… I guess you can come though” someone finally said, “if you want” she added on coldly. You bit your lip hurt, that last part made you feel cautious about going, like you would be a stranger, intruding.

You took a deep breath and continued, “when did you make plans?”

“We discussed it in a group chat,” the same girl said slowly, like she was choosing her words carefully not to hurt your feelings, making her self the representative for the rest of them.

You raised an eyebrow at this, a gut feeling telling you that something worse was about to come “Are we friends?”

“No, we haven’t been for months,” your friend said, “goodbye.” And with that was the last time you saw that group. They left you in shock in the middle of the road.

Your mental health disoriented slightly, and you felt super self-conscious as you replayed past memories in your head. Those memories showed small signs here and there that indicated that they weren’t ever your friends.

You came home to your parents in tears and explained it all to them. You wanted to stay home the entire week, but they convinced you to go out at least once.

It was almost surreal of how quickly your luck switched, as next thing you knew, you met Peter.

Very early in your newfound friendship, you made it very clear how you felt about secrets, and to your surprise, he agreed wholly.

Suddenly life seemed perfect. Peter introduced you to his friends, Ned and MJ, and bit by bit they become your friends also. To add the cherry on the cake, your parents were so happy with your sudden switch in mood that they let you transfer to Midtown High so you could attend with Peter and friends.

It really was perfect. Almost too perfect, and you had a constant sense of deja vu anytime you were with Peter. You pushed it over to the side, however, as you were so desperate to finally be happy. Your connection with Peter was so unique, you two became so close so quickly, it was only natural that you developed a crush on him.

By now, you had decided to live for you, to live to be happy. And in this case, being happy meant confessing your crush to Peter, no matter the outcome, cause no secrets right?

The plan was simple, get ice cream at Peter and your’s favorite place and while walking home, confess.

That day came, and you were so nervous, hoping that everything would go to plan. And for the most part, it did.

You two had just gotten ice cream, and luckily there wasn’t much of line, which was really unusual for that shop.

And there you were all of a sudden, walking right next to Peter. You counted the number of steps until you reached your lucky number, because on that step you were going to confess.

But then the scream happened.

It was this foggy scream that seemed to be coming from everywhere at once, the building shook, and people all around you ran.

It hurt your head especially as the scream seemed to be coming from next to your ear, but at the same time from the other side of the city. You both were worried about your safety, and followed suit of everyone else and ran to Peter’s house for shelter.

But at least your life was perfect as you still ended up confessing your crush to Peter when you arrived at your house. You were genuinely nervous and had butterflies in your stomach. Those only intensified in nervousness when he smiled at you.

It was a genuine, happy smile, for it turns out his feelings were mutual, and as he admitted that, you couldn’t help but notice that something was off.

But again, you chose to ignore it, as your best friend was now your boyfriend, life was perfect.

Now a month had gone by, and you had noticed a gradual change in Peter. Sure people change, but a small nagging part inside you couldn’t help but wonder if he was changing like your friends did, if he was changing to betray and hurt you.

You hated that your insecurity got so bad that you had to ask him, but you still did.

“What's up?” you said, waving your hand in front of his face to grab his attention.

“What do you mean?” Peter replied, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion.

“Peter.”

“Y/N” he teased back.

“Not funny,” you teased, pushing his side playfully before turning serious again, “you’ve been acting weird since we started dating.”

“No, I haven’t!” Peter said, and his whole mannerism seemed to scream SECRET! to you

“You know how I feel about secrets” you whispered, giving him a slight puppy eyes.

At that, Peter put his head down defeated, “I-“ he said, not even having the words.

“You don’t have to tell me if it’s good, just promise me it is” you tried comforting, hoping in your heart the secret was for a good surprise. But all you got was silence in return, confirming your initial thought, “It’s not is it?”

“Y/N im sorr” Peter started, before you cut him off.

“Forget it, just tell me, what is it?”

“You won’t want to hear this” Peter warned, giving up on denying the existence of the secret.

“But I have to hear it” you argued back, you need some resolution, so you could move on with your life and not have any regrets from this moment, from this relationship.

“No, you don’t.”

“YES I DO PETER, I CAN’T HANDLE BEING HURT WITHOUT KNOWING IT” you screamed back at him, unable to hold it in anymore.

Peter sighed, whispering to himself, "but now you are going to be hurt because you know.”

“Peter just tell me” you begged, putting your hand on his knee.

He brushed it off, asking “are you sure?”

“100%.”

Peter looked at you, as if searching your face and savoring the image of it before saying “wake up.”

“What?” you asked, unsure if you heard him.

“This isn’t real,” he said almost robotically, confusing you more.

“I’m sorry?”

“You’ve been dreaming since what happened with your friends, since you met me” Peter tried explaining again.

“How?” you asked, unsure of how this could be a dream, it all seemed so real, so perfect. But then again, dreams are perfect.

“You know the scream a month ago?” Peter reminded as you nodded in confirmation before he continued, “It was someone yelling near you, yelling your name.”

“It was just a vague sound,” you said, unsure how your name could even be heard in what was just a loud screech and rumble of the world.

“But it reminded me that this is just in your head.”

“But how did you know?” you asked, wondering if you were just stupid or oblivious.

“I’m part of you, part of your subconscious” Peter explained. You guess that made sense. After all, if you were in a dream, your subconscious would know, while you, your conscious might not necessarily know.

“Now wake up” Peter ordered. You looked in his face one more time, trying to memorize it so you could bring his face and the memories with you into the real world.

As he and the rest of your perfect life faded to oblivion, you whispered in the void “I wish you hadn’t told me.”

You closed your eyes, and when you opened them again, you were greeted with loud sounds and lights. The sounds and sights of a hospital to be exact. There was a constant beeping of your heart monitor, and at the sight of you waking, the room was filled with nurses and doctors.

The fatigue set in again, and you went back to sleep, a dreamless sleep. As you met with your parents and reunited, you learned the hard truth. When you were with your friends, you were so shocked at finding out their true feelings about you, that you had froze in the middle of the road, hit by a car.

When your parents finally left so you could digest everything, you were left staring out the window, hoping in your heart if Peter could be out there.

Taglist: @djjffkd, @pallored, @your-daily-dose-of-fangirl, @penisprkr, @tuttigunner, @doihavetobesocialrightnow, @supernatural-strangerthings-1980, @lovelyh0lland, @sprinklemetommy, @marvelsmagics, @yoinksholland, @emocultistrat, @moonkissedtom, @hello-love06, @embrace-themagic, @fireboltrose7559, @ourdeliciousfoxcollector, @avenged-nightmare, @adventures-of-sabrina, @christmas-marvel, @tom-hollands-eyelash, @fallinallintom, @peppermintandparker, @zenithzendaya, @celestialparker, @oh-dear-tommy, @paradoxparker, @futzingclint, @tony-starks-ego, @tommy-braccoli, @blackberryfaith*, @laurfangirl424, @rrainydayy, @galaxy-parker, @mischiefmanaged49, @spideypeach, @scottyisthatyou, @peterspanish, @fufaation15*, @theprincesofasgard, @nasa-parker, @v0idbella @fuckwaad, @helloiknowimcrazy, @buresque, @book-of-blue004m* @bringer-of-chaos, @what-is-yeet, @lubrielx, @ticklishrainbow*, @ukulele-tea-and-ocean, @adorablyparker, @onlyfangirlsunderstand, @irnbby, @natashasnight, @fangirlwithasweettooth, @fandom-fangirl07, @dreamerjewels

*unable to tag

#peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker one shot #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x reader #spiderman #spiderman imagine #spider-man #spider-man imagine #spider man #spider man imagine #the avengers #the avengers imagine #avengers #avengers imagine #marvel #marvel imagine #mcu #laineyxsannawc

[poachedhazontoast]

Stilettos and Starlight

Word Count: 2.9k

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, brief mentions of sex, brief violence, attempted rape (nothing too far though, I promise).

Prompt: “What’re you smiling about?” - “I can see the stars in your eyes.”

A/N: This is my entry for @celestialparker and @galaxy-parker‘s milestone writing challenge! I had a lot of fun with this one, though I’m still trying to learn how to write endings that don’t seem super abrupt. I rewrote this one so many times but then I realized that I needed to settle with something or I wouldn’t make the deadline x) Hopefully you all enjoy it regardless of that!

-Sydney

P.S. Peter is older in this, and will be in any Peter-centric things that I write from here on out. Think like 22-23. This is for no reason other than the fact that I’m almost 20 and I feel weird writing romantic scenes for a 15y/o. Hope you all understand.

~~~~

The clicking of my heels echoes throughout the empty hall as I march towards the elevator. It doesn’t take a very long time for me to get there, but I can already feel the regret radiating from my aching feet. Why the hell did I decide to wear these shoes? There’s a reason I never wear heels, and I’m reminded of it with every painstaking step. I have half a mind to go back and change into something more comfortable.

Don’t lie to yourself. You know you’re wearing them so that men won’t notice how stubby your legs are tonight.

I scoff inwardly at my pathetic nature as I press the button to call the elevator. Of course I’m wearing the death traps to impress guys. It’s been a long while since I’ve had attention from any man that isn’t Peter, and tonight seems like the perfect opportunity to at least get laid if nothing else. Weddings are always perfect for that, right?

A loud ding announces the arrival of the elevator and I step inside hurriedly, pressing the button for the ground floor before allowing myself to do one last check of my appearance in the mirror beside me. I cringe slightly at the image before me. It’s obvious that it’s a rushed job. My hair is only curled on top, my eyeliner is uneven to the point where anyone within a ten-mile radius would notice it, and nearly every single one of my nails has either a chip or a bump. Definitely not my best work.

Thankfully, the elevator doors open before I can convince myself not to go after all. I quickly make my way to the front door of the building, shoving it open and wrapping my jacket tightly around my body as the strong wind outside whips my hair in all directions. I have to brace myself against the wall for a second in an attempt to keep from toppling over. When I’m satisfied that I won’t take a tumble to rival that of humpty dumpty, I push myself off of the wall and in the direction of the curb. Unfortunately, the car that should be waiting for me has yet to make an appearance.

I wait for a few minutes before glancing anxiously at the clock on my phone. Unlocking it, I begin to scroll through hours worth of conversation between myself and my best friend, Peter. He did say 7, right? I find the message I’m looking for and pinch the bridge of my nose, breathing slowly in an attempt to stifle my groan of distress. Yes, 7 PM was the agreed upon time. Yet here I am, approaching 7:15, and still there’s no sign of Peter whatsoever.

Pressing my phone against my cheek, I listen to the dial tone on the other end.

*brrrng* *brrrng* *brrrng*

I can feel myself getting increasingly frustrated with each passing iteration of the sound. I start to pace along the sidewalk, but quickly decide against it when I feel the sharp pains shooting up from my feet.

I really should have changed my shoes.

*brrrng *brrrng* *brr-

“Yeah, what’s up?” Peter’s breathy voice makes it way towards my ear and I stand upright, fixing my glare on a fire hydrant across the street in an attempt to calm my nerves.

“Where. Are. You.” I spit out between my gritted teeth, filling each word with as much of my anger as I can manage. I take pride in myself for being able to practically feel Peter’s wince from the other side of the line.

“Right. I forgot to tell you. I’m gonna have to meet you there.” I hear a muffled scream come from behind him. I don’t need to ask what it was. I already know. “Some… business came up. I might be a little late. Let Ned know I’m sorry.” I can feel the exasperation begin to grow until it’s simmering at the tip of my tongue, waiting for the chance to lash out. I bite it back as I hear what sounds suspiciously like the crunching of bones, and I decide now is probably not the time to chastise him for being a terrible friend to Ned.

Instead, I decide to chastise him for being a terrible friend to me.

“How the hell am I supposed to get there now? You were my ride.” I hiss at him. My fingers begin to turn numb from the biting cold and I duly note that the sun is beginning to set, casting a faint orange glow across the city surrounding me. On a regular occasion I would probably appreciate the beauty of it all, but as it is the scenery does nothing to calm my anger. “I can’t get a taxi, it always takes too long for them to get here. You have royally screwed me over.”

Peter sighs deeply. “I’m sorry.” Genuine regret laces his tone, and for the tiniest second I feel guilty for snapping at him. “Maybe you can just walk?”

Nope. I’m definitely still mad.

“Walk?! Pete, you’re insane. I can’t walk.” My feet begin to groan just at the idea.

”Yeah, you can! Listen, I gotta go. I believe in you!”

“Peter Parker, don’t you dare hang up that-“

*bbbbbbbbbbbbbp*

“-phone.” Resisting the temptation to throw my phone to the ground, I shove it into my jacket pocket and squeeze my eyes shut with a huff. Peter was never the most punctual person in the world, but after that damn spider bit him he rarely makes a promise that he is actually able to keep. I’m not entirely sure why I had expected this time to be any different. Perhaps it’s to do with the fact that it’s Ned’s wedding that we’re attending. Perhaps it’s to do with the fact that he’s the best man. Perhaps, even, it’s to do with the fact that it was me that he promised something to. No matter my reasoning for hoping otherwise, though, he’s late. Yet again.

I quickly open my eyes and gather my composure, weighing my options. I could call a cab in an effort not to walk. This would, inevitably, lead to at least another forty minutes of waiting due to the evening traffic and the fact that I don’t live in the most convenient area, then another ten minutes of sitting in the back of a smoke-filled vehicle with a sleazy cab driver that pays far too many compliments to be considered casual.

Or I can walk.

I check the time on my phone, chewing my lip in an old nervous habit.

I suppose I have the time…

Making up my mind, I send a quick apology to my feet before marching along the sidewalk at a brisk pace. I remind myself over and over again of the validity of my shoe choice, and allow myself to forget about my previous anger.

After all, it’s only twenty blocks to the venue. That can’t be so bad, right?

~~~~

Wrong.

Not even ten blocks later do I find myself hunched over, dragging my feet along at a snail’s pace. The sun has set, making way for the stars to take over, and any lingering heat left over has long since dissipated. My fingers have gone past the point of numb and are now about as useful as ice blocks hanging by my sides. I wouldn’t even be able to call a cab now if I wanted to.

I silently curse Peter in every way I know how. The only thing that keeps me walking is trying to decide between all the different names that I can call him when he eventually makes it to the wedding. I have it narrowed down between pillock and the good old-fashioned ass-hat when I hear somebody whistle at me. I turn to the left to scout out the source and roll my eyes when I see a group of men huddled by the entrance of an alleyway.

“Hey, princess! Why don’t you let me show you a good time, eh?” The largest of the men steps in front of me, forcing me to take a step back. He towers above my tiny frame, his dark eyes narrowing in on me like those of a vulture about to devour its prey. I can feel the fear grip at my stomach, but I’ve lived in this city long enough to know not to let it surface. Instead, I straighten myself to my full height, finding myself to be slightly grateful for the heels for the first time this evening.

“Thanks. I doubt you could though. I like my men much…” I let my eyes wander down to his crotch. “…larger.” The incredulous look on his face almost makes me laugh as I step around him and continue walking at a much faster pace than before, bordering on a run. When I’m convinced that he won’t be following me, I let myself slow down and breath out a sigh of relief.

I definitely am not expecting it when I feel a large hand clamp over my mouth and an arm wrapping itself around my waist in a vice-like grip. I make every attempt to bite and kick my attacker, but it takes only seconds for me to be dragged like a rag doll into the nearest alley, swallowed whole by shadows.

I feel the impact of a brick wall slamming into my right side as I’m thrown from the man’s grasp, robbing me of oxygen. Another pair of hands grabs my shoulders and yanks me up off the ground, whirling me around to face the mammoth from before. He sends me a sickly-sweet smile and I feel chills run up my spine.

“Right. Let’s try this again.” His hand wraps around my chin with a bruising grip and I fight back the urge to spit in his face. “Why don’t you let me show you a good time?” I look him up and down, pretending to consider his offer.

“Hmm. No. I’m alright thank you. Maybe one of your buddies here will let you try it on with them?” The man holding my arms in place steps away from me as though my skin is made from burning iron, and I take the opportunity to reach down and remove one of my shoes, placing the tip of the stilettoed heel to his side.

I suppose they did come in handy, after all.

The elation that fills my system quickly turns to dread, however, when I realize that I grossly underestimated the number of men in the alley. Three turns to four, and then five and six as they reveal themselves from behind dumpsters or from within the shadows of doorways. The knives in their hands glint in the moonlight, and not a second later I find myself shoved up against the wall again, the edge of a weapon grazing my neck.

A rough hand travels across my waist and up my back to grab at the zipper that keeps my dress closed. “I’m done being polite.” His lips brush against my cheek and I feel the urge to vomit at the scent of licorice and tobacco that fans across my face in a hot burst of air. His fingers play with the metal fastening device before slowly pulling it down, playing with his food before devouring it.

“Damn, that’s what you call polite? You really need to take some classes in chivalry.”

Wait, I know that voice...!

Before I can think about it any further, I’m yanked up into the arms of a red and blue clad man. I clasp my hands tightly around the back of his neck, having never really gotten used to the feeling of being off the ground no matter how many times I’ve had the joy of meeting ‘Spider-Man’. He places me gently on a rooftop across the street, relief flooding through me as soon as my feet make purchase with the solid surface.

“I’ll be right back.” And then, he’s gone.

It takes me a minute to process what just happened, but when I do I start to feel the sting of tears at the back of my eyes. I was almost… I can’t even bring myself to think the word. My fingers begin to shake as I attempt to rub away any feeling of the creep’s hands crawling over my skin. The only comfort I get is when I hear the distant thuds of comeuppance, knowing that Peter won’t let them move from the alley they seemed so comfortable in only moments before.

I close my eyes and tilt my head back, trying and failing to control my breathing. The only announcement I get of his arrival is the light padding of his feet against the roof, slowly making their way towards me. I finally open my eyes again in order to look at him, but I regret the decision almost immediately. His mask is off and he looks horrendous, but he is somehow free of any injuries, none of the blood along his knuckles appearing to be his. It’s the wild hair of somebody that has been tugging at it with worry, the wide eyes that are filled with fear, the trembling hands. This is what fills me with guilt, what makes me want to shut my eyes again and forget that he’s even capable of looking so heartbroken.

“A-are you okay?” The hoarse whisper barely makes its way to my ears over the wind, but the words wrap themselves around my heart and squeeze it tightly. I simply nod when I realize that speaking would only make me burst into tears. He’s now standing close enough to me that the proximity becomes almost dizzying, and my heart picks up speed for an entirely different reason than before.

Get a grip.

After years of pining for my best friend, I realized long ago that the man is about as observant as a pineapple and resolved myself to the fact that nothing would ever come of it. Getting rid of feelings is easier said than done though, and despite the fact that they have been buried under years’ worth of relationships and one-night stands, they always tend to resurface when we’re alone together.

Which, unfortunately for you, is pretty much every other day.

He reaches out hesitantly, watching my face closely for any sign of protest. When none show up, he places both of his hands on my shoulders and squeezes gently before letting them run down my arms and across my back, checking swiftly for any injuries before pulling me tightly against his chest. The apologies soon start to tumble out of him, and the self-blame, and the guilt, until they’re all jumbled together in a mess of words. His entire body is shaking, and I feel a mixed wave of emotion wash over me. I manage to wrap my arms around his waist, calming him down in the only way I know how.

I’m not sure how long we stand there, absorbed only in each other’s presence. Finally, once we’ve both stopped shaking and the silent tears running from my eyes have run dry, I pull back and look at him properly. My heart hasn’t slowed down a touch since before, and I’m shocked that I haven’t imploded with how fast it’s beating now. I’m close enough to him that I can count every freckle that dots his cheeks, and my hand moves to his face of its own accord. I slowly drag my thumb across his cheekbone, feeling the slightest amount of pride when I note the small shudder that passes through him. His eyes gaze into mine, reflecting the tiny pinpricks of light that rest in the sky above us, and the corners of his lips begin to lift almost imperceptibly.

“What’re you smiling about?” I speak softly in fear of breaking the air around us. He doesn’t answer, and at first I think it’s because he didn’t hear me. I’m about to open my mouth to ask him again when he begins to lean towards me. He doesn’t stop until his nose is brushing against mine, and I’m afraid that if I try to say anything it will only come out as a bundle of nervous nonsense. My heart feels like it’s about to break out of my chest, and all I can hear is the blood rushing through my veins. He comes closer again, letting his lips hover just millimeters above my own. His breath dances over my lips and I feel a shudder run through me for the second time that night.

Unlike with the man before, however, this is not out of pure fear, but out of pure bliss. And the tiniest drop of disbelief.

“I can see the stars in your eyes.” He whispers before closing the distance, softly pressing his lips against mine. He’s gentle as only Peter can be, but the intensity is still there. He rests his left hand on my waist and brings his right hand up to lightly cup the back of my head. For years I have pictured this moment in my head. I’ve had many different ideas about how it would go down, but I’m realizing now that none of them matter anymore.

All that exists is me, and Peter, and the stars.

#laineyxsannawc #peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #peter parker one shot #tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot #harrison osterfield #harrison osterfield fanfiction #harrison osterfield imagine #harrison osterfield one shot #peter parker x reader #tom holland x reader #harrison osterfield x reader #spider-man #i think that's it

[tommyparkerr]

Only You | Tom Holland x Reader

This is for Ally and Sanna’s writing challenge! The ‘due date’ is December 11, and somehow I got this done...early...? Kind of crazy considering the last writing challenge I signed up for I was like a month late...and considering I haven’t felt the inspiration to write for about two months. But whatever! Hope you all enjoy!:D

Prompt: “Maybe I didn’t! Have you ever thought about that?”

Words: 5.7k (Exactly 5700, in fact)

Warnings: Some angst, very brief mention of drunkenness & alcohol

-Masterlist-

O N L Y  Y O U :

You hated parties with a passion. Only your closest friends knew this about you and had therefore given up trying to drag you along to the rambunctious, alcohol-centered gatherings. You hadn’t been to one since high school, where you’d immediately found out that being in a crowd of intoxicated people was not your scene. But you were at one now, despite the side of you that knew it would be a bad idea even before you went. You should’ve listened to this part of you.

You still hated parties. Even if it was one for your favorite holiday.

The only reason you’d gone was because Tom had invited you spur of the moment and you’d had no time to think it through, and there was no way you were going to pass up an opportunity to spend extra time with him.

You and Tom had met weeks ago in a little café and instantly hit it off, talking for hours on end. You’d of course known who he was—Spider-Man was your favorite superhero, after all—but made a point not to make it the main topic of conversation. He probably got enough of that on a daily basis. So you’d talked about yourself for awhile until Tom was comfortable enough to open up to you about his own life, and everything after that is history.

Ever since that first meeting you couldn’t seem to get him out of your head, nor forget the butterflies that fluttered in your stomach whenever he smiled at you.

Those brown eyes and crooked eyebrow would be the death of you.

“Y/N! There you are, love! I thought I lost you for a moment!” Tom exclaimed, squeezing through a group of people with two red solo cups in hand.

“Hey, Tom,” you greeted as he made his way to you, ignoring the way your heart skipped a beat at the endearment. He held out one cup to you and you hesitantly took it, not planning to drink it but thanking him anyways.

“It’s only soda,” Tom admitted with a sheepish grin. “I kind of took you for the non-alcoholic type and wanted to play it safe.”

A relieved smile took over your face. “You were right; I prefer to drink in the comfort of my own home. Thank you, Tom.”

He looked pleased with your satisfaction, nodding once and grabbing your free hand with his. “C’mon love, I want to show you something.”

You rose an eyebrow and tried to keep your voice as steady as possible when you said, “Should I be worried?”

Tom chuckled and tugged on your hand, urging you to follow him. “You’ll love it, I promise.”

One reluctant nod later and you were on the go, gripping his hand like a lifeline as you swerved through the sweaty, smelly crowd. Eventually you reached the stairs and ran up those, cautiously avoiding the spit-swapping couples along the way.

A wave of panic washed over you when Tom stopped at a third floor bedroom and pushed open the door, leading the both of you inside before shutting and locking it. Deep down you knew that Tom was a good guy and would never take advantage of you, but you’d heard enough horror stories that started with this scene to make your fight-or-flight instincts go wild.

Your eyes went wide and you pulled your hand out of Tom’s in a hurry. “Tom, what are you doing?”

He turned around at the loss of contact with a frown, then as he assessed your question and the situation he’d created his eyes filled with humility and guilt. “Y/N, I promise I’m not going to try anything,” Tom said gently, extending his hand to you again. “I brought you here for a reason. Just trust me, okay?”

You blushed at his words, feeling ashamed for believing—even for a second—that Tom was that type of guy. You shook your head at yourself and grasped his hand, almost jumping when you felt his fingers slide in between yours. That was new.

Without another word Tom crossed the bedroom and pulled back the curtains, revealing a pair of French doors you hadn’t seen previously. He swung them open, holding it for you as you stepped through before following. You blushed at the simple action.

You stood on a balcony now overlooking the city. It was outside of city limits by a long shot yet it had the perfect view, the night coming to life with the yellow glow of streetlights and house windows and the faint sound of traffic. And when you looked above it a clear sky stood, the bright and twinkling stars capturing your attention.

“Wow,” you breathed, stepping forward until you reached the railing. “This is incredible, Tom.”

He came up beside you and leaned on a baluster, looking at the same view you were with a soft smile. “I told you you’d love it.”

You moved your eyes from the stars for one moment to look at Tom with a grateful smile. He looked thoughtful, reaching out with one hand to brush a couple of loose strands back behind your ear. You shivered as his fingertips brushed your neck and he frowned, taking notice.

“Are you cold?” You blushed, shaking your head. Tom didn’t buy it, though, and shrugged off his coat with a roll of his eyes. “It’s freezing, love. You’re wearing my jacket—no arguments.”

You sighed but accepted the warm fabric, wrapping it around your shoulders and letting his scent waft up and into your nose. You had to fight back a smile and a blush when Tom gently wrapped an arm around you—“I can’t let you freeze to death, now can I?”—and stepped close enough for the butterflies to start fluttering again.

It would be a lie if you said you weren’t hoping for anything more out of yours and Tom’s camaraderie. No, you hadn’t known each other for long, but you’d spent a lot of time together these past few weeks and learned a lot about him in that process. Harmless flirting and bantering had become a normality between the two of you, and you sincerely hoped that Tom wasn’t like that with all of his female friends. Before you knew it you’d developed a crush, wanting more often than not to kiss him at the end of the night rather than hug goodbye. So when he’d invited you to an annual Christmas Eve party he and his best mate always attended, it had been a no-brainer.

“I’m going to go grab another drink and maybe catch Harrison on the way back up to let him know where we are. Stay right here, love. I’ll be back soon,” Tom said after a while, removing his arm from around you leaving you colder than you’d expected.

“Okay,” you agreed, nodding at him before returning to your hunt for constellations. He left through the door leaving you alone but content, happier than you’d been in a while.

You closed your eyes and breathed in the cool night air, smiling to yourself. Yes. Tonight was good.

If all parties were like this, you’d attend every single one.

A couple short minutes later you went to take a drink of your Pepsi and realized it was gone. You decided to go fill it up yourself so you could warm up inside for a bit and maybe even find Tom in the process. You moved quickly through the doors and maneuvered back downstairs, heading toward the main drink station. The soda was mostly left alone, so you were able to pour yourself another cup without having to worry about being knocked into and spilling it.

You let your eyes travel around the room, searching for a familiar head of brown curls. Disappointment filled you when you weren’t able to find him, but then you realized that it was possible Tom was already back upstairs waiting for you and wondering where you went. And with that thought in mind you started to head that way.

But then a flash of brown caught your eye and you quickly turned, raking the room for the boy who’d stolen your heart. You found him a distance in front of you, a gap in the crowd allowing you to witness the scene without difficulty.

Tom was kissing someone.

It felt as if a wrecking ball had just slammed against your heart and broke it into tiny little pieces.

You didn’t stay long enough to find out whether the girl was beautiful or not—though it sure looked that way from what you could see—and promptly turned around with tears swimming in your eyes. You were almost to the front door when you bumped into someone, your soda sloshing over onto the floor.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean—wait, Y/N?”

You looked up to see blond hair and worried blue eyes. Harrison.

“I’m going home,” you choked out, shoving past him.

“Woah, woah, woah, you only got here thirty minutes ago!” he said, trying to figure out what was wrong.

“Thirty minutes too long.” You were outside now, walking down the porch steps and onto the sidewalk.

“Hey, Y/N! Just wait up, would you?!” You sighed but stopped moving, allowing Harrison to catch up with you. His hand gently gripped your elbow before he spun you around to face him, his eyes piercing yours. “What’s up, Y/N? I thought you and Tom were upstairs?”

“We were,” you said stiffly, not letting anything on.

“Oh, c’mon,” Harrison complained. “You’ve gotta give me more than that, Y/N.”

You pulled your elbow out from his grip and thrusted what was left of your soda at him. “Here, take this. I’m going home.”

Harrison took the cup, still looking genuinely concerned and no less confused than he was before your conversation—if you could even call it that. “How are you getting home?”

“Walking, I suppose,” you murmured, eyeing the empty streets. “There’s not exactly a cab I can hail out here.”

“If you’re not going to tell me anything, at least let me take you home,” Harrison spoke up, his voice gentle. “It’s too cold and too far for you to walk.” You looked pointedly to the red cup in his hand. “It’s soda,” he assured you, holding it out for you to verify that he was telling the truth. “I’m the designated driver tonight. Got an audition tomorrow I don’t want to be hungover for.”

You internally debated whether or not to accept a ride from Harrison. On one hand it was freezing and your house was several miles away, but on the other hand Haz was Tom’s best mate and you knew that he’d try to get answers out of you before the drive was over. But he was a good guy from what you could tell, so what really would it hurt?

“Fine,” you reluctantly agreed and watched as a relieved look crossed Harrison’s face. You briefly wondered if he’d been under strict instruction to keep a second eye on you tonight; it seemed like something Tom would do.

“C’mon,” Haz said, offering his arm out to you. You hesitated only for a moment before you linked elbows. He was just trying to be a gentleman. Plus, you never were the best at walking in heels so this ensured only a minor stumble if you did happen to trip. “The car’s right over here.”

He opened the door for you and waited for you to settle in before shutting it behind you and climbing in on his own side. The car started up and cool air burst from the vents, making you shiver and pull your coat more securely around you. But there was only one problem: it wasn’t your coat.

You still had Tom’s coat.

You swallowed and tried to ignore your discovery, pretending it was an old thrift shop coat that had no value. It was hard to do, however, when Tom’s scent kept forcing its way into your senses.

“Look, I know you obviously don’t want to talk about it, but can you at least tell me if Tom knows you’ve left?” Haz asked, his eyes staring straight ahead.

“No,” you said quietly after a few moments’ hesitation. “He doesn’t know.”

You could see Haz struggling to keep his mouth shut, but you knew him well enough to know he would fail. And sure enough, only a few minutes later he crumbled.

“What did he do?”

“Who says he did anything?”

Haz gave you a look. “I’m not a complete idiot, Y/N. Tom had to have done something to make you run off like this.”

You pursed your lips and looked away again. “It’s not a big deal. I’m overreacting—hormones, you know.”

“Bull,” Haz immediately said. “You’re full of shit, Y/N.”

You didn’t respond, keeping quiet long enough for Harrison to realize you weren’t going to give him any answers. He sighed but didn’t try to get anything more out of you, hearing your message loud and clear.

It seemed like ages until you finally reached your apartment building and wondered if Harrison had been going under the speed limit on purpose when he was questioning you.

“Thank you, Harrison,” you quietly spoke as you fumbled to get your seatbelt off.

“Tom likes you,” Haz murmured, looking down at his lap. “I wasn’t supposed to tell you that but I don’t think I have a choice at this point.”

You shook your head. “If that’s the case then he was really shitty at showing it. Goodnight, Harrison.” You reached for the door handle, going to pull it open when you heard a small click and suddenly the door was locked. You whipped your head around, prepared to lash out at him for doing such a childish thing, but he beat you to it.

“I know you don’t believe me, but Tom really does like you, Y/N. You don’t hear the way he talks about you or see the way his face lights up when your name is mentioned. He talks about you all the time, love. It’s quite annoying, actually. But I’ve never seen him so happy, so I let him. His family too. His brothers and I tease him all the time for it but he doesn’t care, Y/N. He’s crazy about you.”

Tears sprang to your eyes and you turned your head away so he wouldn’t see. “Harrison-“

“I don’t know what he did, Y/N, but I can swear to you that he would never hurt you intentionally.” He released a long breath. “Just...just promise me one thing, alright? One thing and I will never interfere again.”

You bit your lip in an attempt to get it to stop wobbling. “What is it?”

“Promise me you’ll give him another chance. Whatever he did, Y/N, he didn’t do it to hurt you. I don’t know what it was or how it looked or sounded, but promise me you’ll give him the chance to explain before you give up on him. If not for him, for you. I think you owe yourself at least that much.”

Minutes passed by in silence. You could feel Haz’s eyes on you, pleading and hoping. It warmed your heart to witness the amount of care he held for his best friend, but the fact that his best friend was Tom made it harder to appreciate.

You knew he was right; you did owe it to yourself to see this situation through, and with all the time you’d spent with Tom you felt you owed him it too. No matter how it ended.

But then the image of Tom and the tall, beautiful brunette reentered your mind.

A tear fell, staining Tom’s jacket. No—if you gave Tom a chance to explain himself it would be for you, and only you.

You placed your hand back on the door handle. “Unlock the door, Haz.”

You could practically feel his disappointment at your words, but he did as you asked, another click indicating his follow through. You sat there, watching the clock on Harrison’s dash as it turned from 11:59 to 12:00. You took a shaky breath and shrugged Tom’s jacket off, leaving it to sink onto the car seat.

It was cold when you stepped outside, but you couldn’t bring yourself to take the coat back. Harrison was looking at you sadly through the open door, as if he was finally figuring out that what Tom had done may have been too unforgivable for you to be able to promise what he asked.

“Merry Christmas, Harrison,” you whispered with a meek smile and shut the door, wondering if he noticed the crack of your voice at his name.

Because it wasn’t Harrison you’d been expecting to wish a Merry Christmas to tonight.

XxX

You ended up spending extra time at your parents’, staying not just Christmas Eve night (you got a cab to their house after Haz had dropped you off), but the week as well. You’d told them it was because you’d been missing them, but the fact of the matter was you didn’t want to take the chance of seeing Tom. You were almost one hundred percent sure he’d already stopped by your apartment looking for you, wanting to know why you were ignoring him—according to the dozens of texts he’d sent you, anyways. It only made you more irritated (as if he didn’t know what he did) and you shut your phone off in response, wanting to take the time to cool off and really think about the situation first before you reacted.

In a way, you guessed not responding was a reaction. Maybe an immature one at that, but at least you hadn’t stooped so low as to send him a nasty text in return. You supposed you could tell Tom to give you some space until you thought things through, but then he might play dumb again and, quite honestly, you weren’t in the mood to deal with that. It was Christmas, after all, and you intended to enjoy it.

The only problem was Christmas ended more quickly than you’d wanted it to, making New Year’s Eve roll around with no new development between you and Tom. You did end up sending him a belated Merry Christmas, to which he responded with the same (on top of the message he sent you on Christmas Day), but that was all the further you’d gotten. Tom seemed to have taken the hint and left you alone for the most part, though you did still receive the occasional, Can we talk?

What sucked the most out of all this, though, was that your parents had kicked you out on New Year’s Eve claiming that they had an early flight the next morning and an party to attend that night—the night you had been hoping to spend with Tom a week before. But now, due to some tropical beach that’d captured your parents’ attention, you were being sent back to your own apartment to spend yet another New Year’s Eve alone, accompanied only by ice cream and Hallmark.

Which was where you found yourself now—on the couch in oversized clothing, a messy bun atop your head as you shoved Ben and Jerry’s into your mouth and watched another perfect couple confess their love to one another. Of course Hallmark wasn’t always the most realistic, but at least it always ended happy. If nothing else, it was a good distraction from the lasting image of you-knew-who kissing who-knows-who.

A buzz interrupted your Hallmark binge, and you hesitantly reached for your phone to read the text. It was from Haz, surprisingly; you hadn’t heard from him at all since he’d driven you home on Christmas Eve.

There���s a New Year’s party tonight. You in?

You pursed your lips and debated. It’d been a week now, so you really should make an effort to talk to Tom. It would probably be the most mature, responsible thing to do.

But then again, he’d broken your heart on Christmas. And you hated parties.

Not tonight. Sorry.

It was only a moment before he replied.

You can’t avoid him forever, Y/N.

No, but I can try.

He didn’t say anything more after that, probably not knowing what to say. In his defense, if you were in his position you wouldn’t know either. You appreciated his attempts to help mend whatever was broken between you and Tom, you really did, and eventually you would work it out, but you saw no reason to start tonight. Besides, you were too comfy to even think about dressing up and going to some smelly, crowded, drunken party.

Yes, ice cream and Hallmark sounded perfectly fine.

So that’s what you did for the next two hours: you engorged yourself with excess amounts of ice cream and Chinese takeout that you’d ordered soon after Harrison texted.

You watched the television intently as the commoner-turned-princess danced the night away with her handsome prince in a gorgeous ball gown a girl could only ever dream of wearing. Just as the waltz was ending, your phone buzzed again. You sighed and pulled it out, freezing when you saw who it was from.

Y/N, I don’t know what’s going on but we need to talk. I’m on my way over.

You didn’t know how to respond, how to tell him that you didn’t want to talk when you couldn’t come up with a reason other than ‘I don’t want to’. What frustrated you the most was that you knew if you told him that, he’d respect it and turn right back around—which was probably why you decided not to. The problem was that Tom was a legitimately good guy, and you’d seen plenty of evidence of that. Then Christmas came and you saw evidence otherwise. But if one mistake disqualified everyone from second chances, then who would you have left?

The answer was no one.

Everyone made mistakes. Some bigger than others, yes, but deep down you believed in second chances—or, at the very least, a chance to explain their actions. And Tom was no exception.

A knock on your door made you jump, as you hadn’t been expecting it so soon. You got up from the couch and threw away your empty plates and containers on your way to the door, taking a deep breath before opening it.

You swallowed hard at the familiar brown eyes. He looked a bit haggard, as if he hadn’t properly slept in a few days. You probably looked the same—maybe worse due to your ‘lounging’ attire—but it was always easier to point it out in people other than yourself.

“We need to talk,” was the first thing to come out of Tom’s mouth.

You nodded stiffly. “So you said.”

His mouth opened and closed for a bit before he found the right words. “Did...did I do something? Say something, maybe? I can’t stop thinking about everything I did that night and it kills me not being able to figure it out.”

You sighed, shaking your head and looking down at your feet. Slowly, you moved aside to create an opening for Tom. “Maybe it’s best if we talk about this inside.”

He looked wary but stepped in anyways, watching as you carefully shut the door and turned to face him. Tom looked quite unsure of himself and you immediately wanted to comfort and reassure him, but you couldn’t. Not now.

“Was it because of me taking you to the bedroom? Because if so I am so, so sorry about that and I truly didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or alarm you in any way-“

“No, no,” you quickly dismissed. “It wasn’t that.”

“Was it because I left to get another drink? I really didn’t have to and I shouldn’t have left you alone like that-“

“It’s not that either, Tom,” you said, still refusing to look him in the eye. There was a bit of irritation rising up in you at his guesses, but you did your best to keep it hidden.

“Okay,” Tom said, a confused frown covering his face as he analyzed the night’s events again. “Was it too cold outside?”

“Not with your jacket,” you said, shooting down yet another speculation.

“Did you not like the soda I gave you? You could’ve said so and I would’ve exchanged it for anoth-“

“No, of course not.” You were a bit snippier this time, that irritation about to burst free of the bubble you were trying to keep it in.

There was a few moments of silence. Eventually, Tom quietly, unsurely asked, “Was I too out of line? Too...too far out of the friend zone? Because if you don’t like me like that, Y/N, you don’t have to pretend. You could just tell me and I swear I’ll back off-“

Any anger you’d previously felt fizzled away at these words. It was the final push you needed to look at him, but when you did you found that his eyes were trained on the ground like yours had been.

“You really don’t know, do you?” you murmured, tears springing to your eyes. He didn’t respond, but with the way his eyes snapped up to yours, pleading and vulnerable, you got your answer. You shook your head and cleared your throat in an attempt to have your voice come out steady and strong. “I do like you like that, Tom. I...I have for a while.”

His eyes lit up only to dim again when he moved toward you and you took a step back, successfully avoiding his touch.

“Y/N, what—I-I don’t understand-“

“That’s the problem, Tom,” you whispered as you hugged yourself, your voice wavering. “You broke my heart, and you don’t understand why.”

Something about those two sentences made him deflate, his shoulders sinking and his face falling. He looked confused and devastated, as if he couldn’t believe what you’d just said—as if he couldn’t believe that he’d been the one to break your heart.

“Please,” Tom whispered. “Please help me understand so I can fix this, Y/N, please-“

“I don’t know if you can fix it, Tom,” you truthfully admitted, blinking tears from your eyes. “I wanted to give you the chance to explain, but I just...if you don’t even know what you did, then how are we supposed to talk it out? How am I supposed to give you a second chance when you don’t know what you did to ruin the first one?”

“Y/N, please,” Tom pleaded with you. “I don’t want to give up on us that easily—I don’t want you to give up on us that easily. Tell me. Tell me, Y/N, please. I’m begging you.”

Your lip wobbled but you quickly pulled it in, adjusting your arms and looking back down at the ground. You fixed your eyes on a dirt stain in the carpet and stared at it for awhile as you gathered your thoughts.

“I went downstairs about a minute after you left to get your drink,” you started, your voice quiet. “I couldn’t find you so I assumed you probably were back upstairs already and I just missed you, but when I started making my way back through the crowd I looked across the room and…” You trailed off, taking in a shaky breath and looking at Tom’s concerned face before finishing rather bluntly. “I saw you kissing her, Tom.”

He blinked—once. Twice. Then he frowned, and you watched as a series of expressions flitted across his face, the main one being confusion, until it settled on recognition.

Tom’s eyes blew up wide and he began to stutter. “No—no, Y/N, that’s not it looked like-“

“Yeah, because I haven’t heard that line before,” you said, your voice strained as you rolled your eyes. Your heart was only shattering more at his classic ‘Uh oh, I’ve been caught’ reaction, not leaving much hope for anything to be salvaged from this relationship. Even if you never decided to venture into territory outside platonic friendship, you would never be able to trust him again. “Look, I get it, okay? I know I’m not the prettiest or the smartest or the most successful, but you didn’t have to lead me on and then kiss someone else in order to get your point across.”

Tom was still spluttering, unable to get complete sentences out. “That’s not—I mean—no, I wasn’t-“

“I didn’t stay long enough to see her face, but she looked beautiful, Tom. I’m happy for you, really. If she’s who you want, then go for it—don’t let me hold you back. But for future reference, next time you want to kiss a different girl than the one you’ve been consistently flirting with for two months, don’t do it without talking to the girl first. Because that hurt, Tom, to see you kiss her like that-“

“Maybe I didn’t! Have you ever thought about that?” Now it was your turn to blink and dumbly stare as you tried to make sense of what Tom just said. “Maybe I didn’t,” he repeated quieter this time, trying to catch his breath from his minute of non stop stuttering.

It was a few minutes before you spoke up, still just as confused as when he first said it. “Maybe you didn’t...what?”

“Kiss her,” he said exasperatedly. “I didn’t kiss her, Y/N.”

Silence. Again.

“I don’t know if I can believe you,” you said, your lip wobbling and your tears coming back to life. “I want to, I want to so bad, but I don’t know, Tom. It hurt—it hurt so much.”

He cautiously approached you, stopping just a foot in front of you. When you didn’t go to move away like you had earlier, he reached for your hands and held them daintily in his.

“She kissed me, Y/N—not the other way around. I don’t even know who she was, just that she was drunk off her ass and moved onto the next guy as soon as I pushed her off.”

You frowned. “You...you pushed her off?”

“Yes, I did, and if you would’ve watched a second or two longer than what you did then you would’ve seen it for yourself,” he answered, his eyes pleading with you to believe him. And you wanted to. So very badly. Your heart was screaming at you to just forgive him already, but your mind was still wary, remembering the ache and the hurt Tom had caused you. “Y/N,” Tom whispered, squeezing your hands. “All I can think about is you: the way you smile and your eyes light up whenever you catch sight of a baby, your laugh when I tell you the lamest jokes and pick up lines, the crinkle between your eyebrows when you’re concentrating really hard on something.”

You shook your head, attempting to pull your hands from his even as your heartstrings ached at the movement. “Tom, don’t say that-“

He gripped your hands tighter and stepped closer, his eyes boring into yours so seriously that you couldn’t help but stop and listen. “I like you, Y/N. And if I’m being completely honest, I think I’m falling in love with you—have been since the first day I met you. Did you know that after you left on that day in the coffee shop, I called my mum and told her that I thought I’d found the one?”

Your heart stopped and you forgot how to breathe for a moment. “No...no, I-I—you never told me that.”

Tom smiled softly at you, running a thumb over your knuckles absentmindedly. “Y/N, I want to be with you. Only you. I don’t care if you don’t think you’re the prettiest or the smartest or whatever else it is you think you aren’t, because you are to me and you always will be. I don’t care about any of those other girls you ‘deem worthy’ of me; I care about you. And I know it’s a lot to take in right now, but when you’re ready I would really love it if you could give me a second chance to prove that you’re all I want.”

One of his hands left yours to touch your face, gently tracing its lines and crevices. He seemed entranced, making you blush. Your heart was thudding loudly and your stomach was filled with butterflies and, even more, your mind was even starting to believe Tom. He seemed genuine, not to mention the raw confession of falling in love with you, and you couldn’t remember a single time he’d lied to you other than the first day in the coffee shop when he withheld his identity. Then again, he’d ‘revealed’ his identity about halfway through your conversation, so you weren’t sure if that could even be counted as a lie.

A sudden ding made you both jump, and Tom started digging in his pocket for his phone. He went to turn it off then paused, his lips upturning slightly.

“What is it?” you asked, curious as to what got him smiling.

“Haz says Happy New Year,” Tom answered, showing you the time on his phone—exactly twelve o’clock am. You hadn’t even noticed how late it was.

Tom brushed a piece of stray hair behind your ear after putting his phone back away. Something changed then, the air between the two of you warmer and more intense than it was before. It wasn’t unpleasant by any means, just...different.

“Y/N?” Tom whispered as you reached to cup his cheek.

You smiled, eyes flicking to your thumb caressing his soft skin, then to his lips, and finally back to his eyes. “Happy New Year, Tom.”

Tom didn’t miss the signal, his lips coming down to meet yours in a sweet, simple kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck and wound one hand into his curls. His hands rested on your back and waist, keeping you pressed close to him.

“Happy New Year, Y/N,” Tom said breathlessly, smiling a small smile before kissing you again.

Permanent Tags: @lemirabitur @my-meant-to-find-blog @jongindeepbreath @tomspideyweb @farfromjustordinary @tomsstarlight @delicately-written @catstielanddeanthedog @tom-holland-and-textposts @spiderman-n @wtfholland @hollandandi @starsholland @celestialparker @beautiful-holland @spideycentral-1 @laurfangirl424 @yoinksholland @casuallytumblingdownthestairs @smexylemony @antifaspiderman @trashqueenbitch @fireboltrose7559 @propertyofmarvel @perhaps-he-schnapped AND @galaxy-parker (Also, I just now realized that you and I have the same blog title Sanna, so...fist bump?)

Let me know if you’d like to be added! 💕

#laineyxsannawc #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland au #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #harrison osterfield #writing challenge entry

[thatchick147]

Mr.&Mrs. Parker

Words: 612

Prompt: “I spent years waiting for this day. Please, let me enjoy it.” // I changed it a little bit oops?

A/N: Well I finally finished this for @galaxy-parker and @celestialparker’s writing challenge (I know y’all said to add a “read more” but I write on my phone and don’t know how, apologies)

You smooth down the tulle on your dress, letting out a shaky breath, fiddling with the lace at your waist.

This is it.

Your best friend hands you the simple bouquet you’d picked, all you had to do now was make it down the aisle without falling. Why you’d decided to walk alone escaped you for the moment.

“You ready? We can always make a break for it if you want,”

Your best friend smiles at you, only half joking.

“I spent years waiting for this day. I’m gonna enjoy it,”

Your face breaks into a thousand watt smile and you have to blink away tears, remembering everything that got you here. Moving into that god damn apartment building a floor above him, going to the same school with a locker four down from his, asking him to prom when Michelle told you he liked you, all the times you shared just sitting on the roof talking about the future and him telling you about spiderman.

Your friend disappears and you hear the first notes of your song, your breath hitches and your body moves without needing to be told twice. You don’t register anyone as you walk down the flower petal covered aisle, you barely feel the swishing of your gown as you look up and see him. Peter. You see his smile slip off his face as the reality sets in for both of you. The way his features soften and his eyes hold so much love, you smile shyly as if it were just the two of you. Finally getting to him, you just stare at each other.

“Hi,” You whisper

“You look beautiful,”

You take a sip of your drink, listening to the story Ned is telling about Peter, nearly snorting it out at the hilarious details.

You lean against your husband. Husband. You look at him, he’s yours. Those slightly unruly waves in his hair have been styled back slightly, his shirt is now unbuttoned at the top and his face is lightly flushed with embarrassment. You watch him burst into laughter at his best friend’s antics. His smile brings one to your face. Suddenly you’re staring into his eyes, brown as a leather book promising a storybook life together.

“Why’re you staring at me?”

Your eyes roam his face as you nibble your lip.

“I just love you so much Peter, I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

He pushes one of the loose hairs away from your face, leaning down and lightly grasping your chin.

“I’m the lucky one y/n,”

His lips brush over yours and you hear applause along with cheers, causing you to bury your face in his neck from the embarrassment.

“Forgot that we weren’t alone,”

You feel his chest rumble and you lean away to give him a smack on the shoulder.

“That was rude Mrs. Parker,”

“Well you really shouldn’t laugh at your wife Mr. Parker.”

“I’m lucky enough that I’ll get to laugh at her and with her for the rest of my life,”

“You’re such a sap,”

“I really gotta blame you for that babe,”

You roll your eyes, standing up and putting your hand out for him to take.

“Yeah whatever Parker,”

He grins at you, taking your hand and leading you to the floor where music is now blasting. All of your closest friends and family are enjoying themselves, and you can’t help but giggle when Peter drags you around, over exaggerating all of the dance moves he’d been taught in the classes you’d taken. You let out a loud laugh when he dipped you.

“I love you y/n,”

“I love you too Peter,”

#laineyxsannawc #marvel #spiderman #peter parker #peter parker blurb #peter parker fluff #peter x reader #peter parker x reader #fluff #writing challenge #my writing #original #yourlifewithpeter #a brief history

[chronicowboy]

dancing with embers

pairing: michelle jones x stark! reader, peter parker x ned leeds

summary: it's your night off, but danger doesn't sleep and dances don't always end well.

warnings: mentions of explosions and injury, swearing.

A/N: this is for @galaxy-parker and @celestialparker 's writing challenge with prompt 13:

“Let go of me! I have to find her!”

feedback is always appreciated and please ask if you want to be added to my taglist.

y/f/c = your favourite colour.

☆☆☆☆

Your heart began to pound as the car pulled to a stop. Shaking the hands you had been playing with for the journey, you took a deep breath and reached for the door handle before a click echoed through the car. You rolled your eyes and looked at your dad in the front seat. Tony removed his newest pair of glasses - yellow and anything but inconspicuous - and turned to look at you. He smiled and you noticed the way his eyes shone more than usual, but the stubborn old man still refused to let his tears fall.

"I feel ridiculous!" You hissed at him. Happy chuckled from the driver's seat, but quickly clamped his mouth shut after your father shot him a glare.

"You look beautiful, y/n." He stated in his patented 'I'm Tony freaking Stark therefore everything I say is right' tone.

"You have to say that," you picked at the y/f/c fabric of your dress and huffed. "You're my dad."

"Hey. No, I don't. You heard me tell Nat that I didn't think she suited green the other day-"

"Yeah and I've never seen you look more terrified." You folded your arms. "And I'm pretty sure you're more scared of me."

"Whilst that may be true, I can one hundred percent truthfully say that you look beautiful. Right, Happy?"

"Wha- oh! Yeah! Yes. Of course." Happy smiled at you via the mirror. You decided to let the corners of your lips turn up and Tony smirked.

"See? Even you know it!" He scowled when you shook your head.

"Can I go now?" You pulled on the door handle, but it wouldn't budge.

"One second," your dad unbuckled his seatbelt and turned around fully. "I know it's hard to ignore the hero in you, but this is your night off, okay? Don't worry about anything other than having fun and the fact that the punch might be spiked. This is your night off. Have a great time, kid." The locks clicked back and you saw Peter appear at the window. "Oh and make sure Parker doesn't do anything stupid."

"Hey! You know I can hear you, right?" He complained. You grinned, opening the door, as your dad's window slid down. Straightening your dress, you nudged your friend.

"Oh, sweetie," you pinched his cheek and he scowled. "I think what my dad's trying to say is, you and Ned are perfect for each other and we don't want you messing it up."

"What makes you think I'm gonna mess it up?" He asked in a very high pitched voice.

"Lets face it, Pete. You haven't got the best track record."

I haven't got a track record!" He argued.

"Exactly!" You laughed, pulling on his arm. "Bye, d-" you shut up as Peter's hairs stood on end. "What is it?" There was a scream and your head snapped over to the building. The fire alarm sounded and students began pouring out. Tony was already out of the car, going to grab his nearest suit from the boot. You and Peter sprinted forwards and into the building, but he pulled you back out again as an explosion sounded.

Tears stung your eyes and your lungs ached with effort. The smoke didn't help either issue. Ears ringing, you cautiously lifte your head up from below your arms and looked at Peter as he winced. You pulled him up and watched as your father began trying to solve the problem. As you shook your head, and immediately regretted the decision, your eyes began to search the crowd for the familiar shock of brown curls that made your heart flutter every time. She wasn't there. Your hands began to shake and you pulled your phone out of your pocket, clicking on MJ's contact. You looked at her last text:

I'm here but ned said he's gonna be late. hurry up loser! 🖕🏽

Deep breath. Deep breath. Stay calm. Peter let out a short-lived sigh of relief as he saw the text, knowing his date was safe.

The teachers and chaperones began taking registers and you listened to the calls of 'they're still at home' or 'on their way' as the reality began to sink in. Ironman landed in front of you, mask flipping up.

"Good news is lots of people got out. Bad news is-"

"MJ's still in there." You whispered. Tony's eyes widened with worry and he looked at Peter.

You had to save her. She was in there. She was definitely hurt. She was probably scared out of her mind. You should have saved her. You should have been there. You should have told her how you felt.

Peter's arms wrapped around your waist as you tried to run into the building that was still falling apart. The tears left silver tracks on your face as they cut through the ash. The mask of the ironman suit slipped back into place as he flew into the thick, grey air.

"Let me go!" You screeched, voice raw. "Get off me!" You tried to pry his arms off you, but his stupid spider strength wouldn't allow it. “Let go of me! I have to find her!” Your voice was desperate and gravelly as you pleaded. Your world was in that building, alone and terrified. How could you not save her?

Peter knew what it felt like. He knew the guilt that began squeezing it's cold hand around your throat. He knew the desperation that soaked into every cell of your body. He knew the itch in your muscles that told you to help. He knew the feeling all too well. And whilst he wanted to let you go, he needed to keep you safe.

"Let me go!" You screamed, voice cracking, as Peter pulled you into his chest. He lowered the two to you to the floor and rested his chin on your head as you sobbed into his blazer. You didn't care how many of your peers were watching you break down completely. All you could think about is how MJ would be rolling her eyes at you and calling you a loser. But she couldn't.

The familiar whir of your father's arc reactor approached and you looked up from your friend's shirt. The girl hung limply from his arms. Her dress was grey from the ash and red from - well you tried not to think about that. You saw her face caked in debris and the stain of scarlet below her hairline. You muttered a weak "MJ" before your father flew off into the night, the love of your life in his arms.

Peter stood and led you towards the car. He slid in behind you and Happy glanced at the broken girl as he set off.

☆☆☆☆☆

MJ's parents left the room for the small apartment in the compound Tony had set up for them to stay in whilst MJ recovered. You couldn't bare to face them after failing to protect her, you couldn't see the blame in their faces.

You slipped into her hospital room, immediately trying to block out the noise of the heart monitor. That's good, you reminded yourself. That means she's still here. The relief you felt when you saw her chest rising and falling was inexplicable. But your chest tightened as you saw the bandages wrapped around her various limbs. Her face had been cleaned and you couldn't help but admire how peaceful and angelic she looked. You fell into the chair next to her bed and carefully rested your elbows on the mattress.

"I am so," you cleared your throat. "I am so sorry." Shaking your head, you grabbed her hand. "I should have... I should have been there. I should have been the one to save you. I should have protected you." You rested your forehead on your intertwined hands. "Tonight was supposed to be special. I was going to... I was going to tell you how I really felt." You leant back in your chair and closed your eyes against the sudden pooling of tears. The sob escaped your throat before you could stop it.

"I love you too, you big baby." MJ's raspy voice cut through the silence and you felt your heart still. Her chocolate eyes found your own and a face splitting grin appeared on your face through the tears. "Did your dad not tell you I woke up?" She asked as she sat up. Jumping into action, you helped her position herself.

"I... um, I didn't talk to anyone. Or, uh, let them talk to me." You chuckled as she rolled her eyes. A comfortable silence fell over the room and her gaze fell to your hands.

"I don't know if you heard, but I just confessed my undying love to you and you didn't, like, react at all." Your eyes widened as you saw the slightest glimpse of anxiety in your otherwise apathetic friend's eyes.

"Oh-" you shook your head, beaming. "I love you too." You whispered, still afraid that rejection was coming.

"Kiss me." She murmured as you sat on the side of her bed.

You blinked in surprise. A year of anticipation and longing and stolen glances and it was finally happening. You were going to kiss Michelle Jones. You weren't ready.

Ignoring the pounding of your heart in your ears, you leaned forward and gingerly placed a hand on her neck. She grabbed it with her own.

"I'm not going to break if you touch me." She whispered. You knew you should have been paying more attention to the words, but you could only admire the way her lips moved. A hand landed on your thigh and your heart jumped as she leaned forward. Your lips melded together in a sloppy attempt to find reassurance. It wasn't perfect, but it was everything you'd imagined. She fell back against her pillow, taking you with her, not once breaking the kiss. Her hand slid up to your waist and your's moved into her matted curls. She smiled into the kiss and butterflies erupted in your stomach. It was an indescribable feeling, but it ended much too quickly as you pulled away for air. Foreheads rested against each other. Chests bumped with each heavy breath. Grins unseen because of closed eyes. It was young love. It was true love. And, of course, Tony Stank felt the need to ruin it.

Click!

You turned to see your dad at the door, phone in hand. Groaning, you buried your face into MJ's chest and your dad ran away whilst mumbling some incoherent apologies. MJ lifted your head up again and pressed little kisses against your jaw. Your eyes fluttered shut in bliss before she pecked your lips once more with a radiant smile she reserved only for you.

"y/n?" She breathed. You nodded against her lips. "Will you be my girlfriend?" You smiled.

"Nah. I'm good." Regretting leaving her grasp for even a second, you pulled away before she pulled you back.

"Bitch." She hissed, pressing her lips to your neck. You sucked in a sharp breath and felt her smirk.

"Yes." You announced.

"Hm?" She prodded, pressing a few more kisses to your neck and adding to your giddiness.

"Yes, I'll be your girlfriend." MJ giggled and you swore you'd never heard anything more melodic as you gazed at her with utter adoration.

"Did she just giggle?" Ned exclaimed from the doorway.

"Can people please stop interrupting us?" You snarled at them.

"But did MJ just giggle?" Peter probed.

"If you tell anybody, and I mean a single soul, I will end you." She growled. "I have an avenger on my side."

"Uh, I am an avenger." Peter reminded you. Rolling your eyes, you flipped him off and sat beside your friend - girlfriend - as the two boys entered.

☆☆☆☆☆

A/N: i hope you liked it! I'm actually kinda proud of this. Feedback is always appreciated!

Tags: @spiderrrling @avengvr @spooky-scary-spiderling @fangirlwithasweettooth @festiveszn @spentthedayinbed @agent-ember @letalexaplaydespacito @waspmanandtheant @moonkissedtom @starkravingparker @marcymakemagic @spiderlingsweb

#laineyxsannawc #michelle jones #michelle jones x reader #mj #mj x reader #mj x you #michelle jones x you #michelle jones oneshot #mj oneshot #michelle jones fluff #mj fluff #mj fanfiction #mj fanfic #michelle jones fanfic #michelle jones fanfiction #ned and peter #peter parker x ned leeds #peter parker x reader #peter parker #ned leeds x reader #ned leeds #tony stark #tony stark x daughter!reader #stark!reader #stark!daughter #happy hogan #tom holland #jacob batalon #rdj #zendaya