#Tom Holland angst

[ptergwen]

Hi there, I'm SO HAPPY YOUR BACK! I was wondering if you could maybe write a Tom Holland Peter Parker x fem Stark reader based on this prompt?: You’re unconscious after a mission gone wrong, and Peter’s voice shakes as he desperately calls your name, when Tony comes. If you don't want to do it, its ok

stay

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w/c: 2,005

warnings: mentions of blood, angst (happy ending!)

a/n: hi lovely thank you sm! you guys know i love my angst so i felt very in my element with this one hehe, thanks for the patience while i get used to writing again! feel free to keep sending in your reqs and chatting, i love hearing from y'all and will answer asap ♡

"y/n? it's over, i got him. i’ll come find you, okay?"

you don't answer.

"y/n/n? can you hear me?"

there's only silence on peter's end of the headset. peter isn't worried, not at first. he figures maybe you just got disconnected.

"y/n?"

nothing.

now that peter hasn't heard from you on the third try, he is starting to worry. the two of you had gotten separated during your mission. the plan was for you to distract your opponent and peter to web him up, but you lost him somewhere along the way. it was hard to stick together in the dark, twisty tunnels. he'd thought it would be best to take care of your opponent himself and find you after.

tony is going to kill him if he let anything happen to you. it's okay, though. he can just use his suit to track your location.

"friday?"

"yes, peter?"

"take me to y/n."

peter swings through the tunnels to get to you faster. friday guides him, which he's grateful for because he doesn't have a great sense of navigation as is. it's even more difficult underground. peter lands where friday tells him to, but he doesn't see you.

"are you sure this is where she is? i think she might've lost connection... maybe her location didn't update."

"y/n's watch is online, peter."

peter notices something on the ground, its blinking light catching his attention. he picks it up. sure enough, it's your stark tech watch, but where are you?

"would you like me to check again?"

peter makes out a figure a few feet away. it isn't moving. he takes a few steps toward the figure, reaching for his mask.

"that's okay. thanks, friday."

he removes his mask to see better, brows knitting together. something doesn't feel right. peter's senses confirm it, the hairs on his arms standing up and eyes focusing harder in the darkness. in peter's head, he already knows it's you. in his heart, he hopes it isn't.

peter crouches down and puts a hand on the figure's shoulder, rolling them over to face him.

it's you.

your spandex suit has some rips in it, and dirt is coating your back. your mask is pulled up part of the way. peter takes it off, revealing blood dripping down your forehead, your eyes just barely open. tears roll down your cheeks. peter cups your face tenderly in his hands, eyes desperately searching for yours.

"oh my god, baby, what happened?"

"that guy."

your voice comes out weak. despite the blood and tears staining his gloved fingers and the tightening in his throat, peter does his best to stay calm.

"what guy? the one we were fighting?"

"yeah."

"he did this to you?"

you hum in response. peter props an arm behind your head for support.

"it's okay. everything's gonna be okay."

"but... it hurts."

"i know, baby. but you're gonna be okay. we're gonna get you home and..."

your eyes flutter closed.

"hey, hey, hey. look at me."

peter strokes your cheek, willing you to stay awake. you grunt.

"tell me where it hurts so i can take a look. can you do that for me, y/n? where does it hurt?"

"my head. on top."

peter carefully parts your hair, searching for the source of your bleeding. there's a damp patch of hair near the top of your head. he moves it aside and finds a gash. it's small, but fairly deep. he doesn't think he can handle this on his own; he needs to tell tony.

"i’m gonna call your dad, okay?"

you don't respond. your eyes are closed when peter looks for them.

"y/n? you have to stay awake."

you don't say or do anything to indicate that you hear him. tears prick peter's eyes, threatening to spill over. he doesn't know much about head injuries, but he knows this isn't good.

"please wake up, y/n/n."

peter grabs both your shoulders and shakes, hard enough that it should wake you. nothing. you seem to have slipped into some sort of an unconscious state.

your watch starts to beep with an incoming call from your dad. peter accepts it with a shaking hand.

"friday tells me your vitals are suspiciously low, little lady. what's going on?"

peter fights to keep his tears at bay. he cradles your head with one hand, placing his other on your heart. he needs to feel your heartbeat to remind himself you're still here.

"it's me, tony."

"kid? where's y/n?"

a quiet sob escapes him, tears finally falling. tony doesn't need to hear anything else.

"i’m on my way."

it doesn't take long for tony to get to you and peter. he comes whirring through the tunnels, retracting his iron man suit when he lands. you lie on the ground, your head in peter's lap. you'd woken up shortly after peter spoke to your dad, but you aren't really responsive. peter is cradling your head gently in both hands and whispering words of reassurance.

he's so focused on you that he doesn't even notice tony is there until he feels a hand on his shoulder.

"what happened, kid?"

tony kneels down next to peter.

"i... i don't know. the guy we were fighting... i didn't see, i think she hit her head."

"okay, okay. let me see the damage."

tony uses his watch to illuminate the dark area. there's dry blood all around the crown of your head, in your hair. it's worse than he expected. he doesn't let it show, though. he doesn't want to alarm you any more than you already are, or peter for that matter; he's a mess.

"i found this."

peter moves your hair to show your dad the wound on your head. tony shines the light on you to get a better look. concern flashes in his eyes briefly, but long enough for peter to see it.

"friday, call the med bay. tell them it's my daughter."

"yes, boss. it appears y/n may have a concussion. i've detected a large contusion."

you bring a hand up to your head, trying to feel the wound. peter coaxes your hand away with a don't touch, baby. you try to say something, but you can't. you're in too much pain. your dad and peter share a knowing look.

"we'll be there soon, fri. make sure they're ready for us. and call happy, tell him to pick us up asap."

"i’ll let them know right away, boss."

a bright light shines directly in your eyes, making you stir a bit in peter's lap. you whine and squeeze your eyes shut. fresh tears fall down your cheeks.

"it's okay, it's okay. it's just your old man."

you squint your eyes open.

"dad?"

"hey, y/n/n."

"what... what're you doing?"

"just gotta take a look at something. look up?"

you try to open your eyes again, but your eyelids feel heavy. tony holds one of your eyes open himself, then the other. he clicks his tongue.

"what's wrong? is she okay?" peter asks your dad.

"pupils are bigger than they should be. still reacting to light, though. that's good."

"what does it mean if her pupils are too big?"

"friday's right. she could have a mild concussion."

the light turns off, your body finally relaxing. peter's body stiffens.

"that's serious, isn't it?"

peter looks from tony to you, stroking your hair and cupping your cheek, then back up at tony. tony can see the fear in his eyes.

"it shouldn't be, the bleeding just gave us a scare. we'll know more when we get her home."

you grab at peter's knee. he places his hand over yours, thumb smoothing along the back of your hand. you look around the tunnel with blurry vision.

peter doesn't like the uncertainty of this. they don't even know the extent of your injuries, just that they might be serious. he knows you're going to be okay, that tony and the med bay team know what to do and you'll bounce back from this because you're you, but he's scared. you've never been hurt this badly before.

"happy's got our location. he'll be here as soon as he can," tony tells you, voice uncharacteristically soft. you blink your eyes in response. "how long is that gonna be?" peter asks.

"i’m not sure, kid."

hot, frustrated tears fill peter's eyes.

"we can't just wait around anymore. she's been like this for a while."

"trust me, pete. i don't like waiting either."

"then let's just bring her back ourselves."

tony gives peter a stern look.

"let's not."

"why not? it's faster if one of us takes her. i’ll swing her there right now."

peter is already scooping you into his arms, preparing to pick you up. you groan at the sudden movement. tony removes you from peter's arms and takes you into his own protectively.

"i said no. we're not flying her home, and we're definitely not swinging her. it isn't safe."

peter stays quiet, blinking back tears.

"you've gotta remember, y/n isn't like you. she doesn't have powers. for the stark's, it's just us out there."

he knows tony is right, of course he is. he forgets how vulnerable you actually are because you're always so strong. riding home with happy may take longer than peter wants it to, but it's safer for you. he needs to think about your best interest. putting other things first caused all of this in the first place.

if peter had found you earlier instead of finishing the fight, maybe he would have been able to get you help sooner. maybe you wouldn't be in this bad of a condition.

"i’m sorry, tony. i’m really, really sorry."

"no biggie, i get it. you're just looking out for her."

"no, that's the problem. i wasn't."

"what're you talking about?"

peter can't hold back his tears any longer.

"i wasn't there when y/n got hurt. it must've happened when we separated. when i found her, she... she was already like this."

"hey, kid. don't do that, don't blame yourself. you didn't know."

"i could've known if i paid more attention. i could've heard, or... or maybe she said something."

peter avoids tony's gaze, too ashamed to look at him, and too guilty to look at you.

"everyone gets caught up, pete. hell, you know i do. but you know what? you're here for y/n now, and we're taking care of her. that's what matters."

"you mean, you're not mad at me?"

tony surprises him by outstretching an arm and pulling him into a side hug. peter manages a small smile, wiping at his watery eyes.

"do i seem mad?"

"guess not. thanks."

tony pats him on the shoulder.

"time to go. happy'll be here any minute."

"okay, i’ll go ahead of you guys so you can see where you're going."

peter starts to collect your things while your dad helps you up. you're disoriented, head pounding, and you stumble a bit because you don't quite have your balance. tony is quick to catch you.

"easy, y/n/n. you're alright, yeah?"

"i want peter."

"he's right here, just leading the way. i’m gonna help you."

"no, i want peter."

peter's heart clenches. he looks to your dad for permission.

"alright, parker. i'll trade you. but be careful, she's precious cargo."

tony lets go of you, but he stays close just in case. he takes your things from peter. you fling yourself into peter's arms, hiding your face in the space between his neck and shoulder. peter hugs you to his chest. tony smiles at peter and nods in approval, making peter smile back.

"i got you," peter coos. "are you gonna need help walking, or you got it?"

"i dunno, i'm dizzy. carry me?"

"sure, baby."

peter picks you up bridal style, one arm secured under you and the other supporting your head. you loosely wrap your arms around his neck.

"can you stay with me when we get there?"

peter kisses the side of your head lightly.

"i’m not going anywhere."

tags (join my new taglist!)

@spidermans-gf @sacharinee @thollandsgirl2013 @pettypeety

[deathbyathousandspiders]

death of a hero. ₂

mcu!peter parker x fem!stark!reader | boy in the bubble part two.

IN WHICH after getting attacked, you find out that your dad & peter have kept spider–man’s identity a secret.

author's note — highly recommend reading part one first!! this cured my writer's block !! part three coming soon!!! :)

WARNINGS (18+ MDNI) — hurt reader [physically/emotionally], swearing, mentions of blood, a flashback to homecoming, lots & lots & lots of angst.

read part one here.

gif found here.

✨masterlist.✨

3.4k.

Never in your life did you think you’d be targeted and attacked, then be smiling by the end of the night. You couldn’t fight the small grin touching your lips, couldn’t stop the butterflies that numbed each wound still scarring your body. 

Somehow, despite it all, Peter’s words gave you something to hold onto, something to keep you going—something hopeful. It gave you something to rewrite the painful narrative that your attacker had spat at you just an hour earlier. 

“What a weak, pathetic excuse for a Stark.”

“You’ve seen the unthinkable, are still going, and you think you’re weak? Impossible.”

Once you finally got to the stairs to shower, you tried to swing your leg up, immediately met with a harsh reminder of how bad your bruises would be tomorrow. 

A wince parted your lips, sparking from the ache in your right hip and the direct strike it sent to the wound on your torso. 

Perhaps you needed Peter’s help after all. 

Taking a breath, you felt less hesitant than before to ask for help. It wasn’t like you had anything else to hide—you were tattered and torn up, topless and sticky with blood. 

Besides, you were used to walking with the weight of the wounds, at this point. You cut the distance to the kitchen in a matter of slow seconds. 

“Whoever attacked her tonight planned this.” Peter’s words made you pause just outside the entryway, hidden behind the wall just beyond. You blinked a bit, immediately feeling the weight of their conversation. “It wasn’t by chance, she was targeted–” 

“You don’t know that—” Even as he cut Peter off, your dad’s response was cut short. 

“And you don’t either!” Both of the boys in the kitchen held something urgent to their words; the same sense of urgency that laced the undertones between them all evening. 

Whatever conversation you were overhearing, you knew in your bones that they didn’t want you to hear it. 

Sucks for them. 

Peter continued: “The way she’s acting.. Something’s off about what happened.” Your blood froze to ice at the sentence. “And I think she deserves to know why I wasn’t there to defend her tonight.”

Thick silence swelled in the room, and you suddenly feared that your racing heartbeat would interrupt it. You had to remind yourself to breathe, and remind yourself to be quiet. 

As tempted as you were to step in and ask questions, you knew that whatever they were keeping from you was more likely to be discovered from where you were. 

Somehow, this was something they wanted to hide from you. The secret, whatever it was, made the air around you feel slimmer and heavy all at once. It sent your thoughts into a spiral, and an urge to question the two people closest to you. 

“Look, kid. I don’t blame you for what happened tonight.” Tony took words from you that you hadn’t even known how to phrase to Peter yet. It sent a twinge to your heart, draped your panic in sympathy for him. 

“I know.” You could tell Peter needed to hear the words, even if he didn’t know how to admit it. 

“As much as I agree with your conspiracy theories on Y/N’s attacker, I don’t know if coming clean about everything will solve this.” 

Something sunk in you, deflated your spirits. It hurt that they’d hid this from you—whatever it was—and had been lying for God knows how long. 

You could hear the jab in Peter’s own optimism when he spoke up again. “Then when do you plan to tell her?” At least, he was trying to come clean. 

“I don’t know..” Your dad was honest, and sullen about it. It only added to your confusion. 

Perhaps, they weren’t going to tell you ever. Maybe if you just revealed yourself and asked your own questions, you’d actually get somewhere. 

Peeling yourself off the wall and taking a few steps into frame, both Peter and your dad were completely oblivious to you. 

Despite how you stepped into view, they remained focused on the conversation, and your dad continued. “I’ll tell you what: you tell me how you’d suggest telling Y/N you’re Spider–Man, and I’ll consider it–”

The whole world stopped moving. 

“Peter’s what?”

You could’ve thrown up at the realization, at how cold and hollow the room suddenly became. The secret was out, and the quick and wide eyes that fell to you told you just how vital this secret was. 

Peter was Spider–Man. 

Even as you stared at him, eyes as wide as his, you couldn’t shake it. Your best friend was Spider–Man, working alongside your father and found family. 

The two of you held eye contact, trying to read the other. You could read the remorse and apology and panic swelling in his wide–eyed stare, but you hoped that some of the anger building in your own was silently translated regardless. 

Your dad tried to clear his throat, tried to slice through the rousing tension between the two of you, but you didn’t break from it in the slightest. 

“Dinner’s ready.” Tony tried to make a joke. To joke at a time like this, as if he wasn’t an accomplice. As if he wasn’t keeping this from you, arguably more than Peter had been. 

It was the last straw you’d been offering, swiped from your hands and dissipating with your patience. 

You scoffed, tears finally finding your eyes. The heat of them was boiled by rage, and you didn’t have the decency to hide it. “Fuck off.” 

The room was too hard to stand in. You walked away, reminded of why you were even standing in the kitchen in the first place. 

Pain itched its way up your priority list, but you didn’t care; finding a way up the stairs was the least of your worries. You were more concerned with how quickly you could get away. 

Especially as you could hear Peter calling after you, following the path you were carving between you. 

“Y/N!” He spoke your name like a plea, like it would somehow apologize for all the dirt you’d uncovered. The sound of his voice, however, only seemed to drive you further from him. 

It split your heart into more pieces than you knew how to count. 

You already battled the insecurity of being weak. A weak, pathetic excuse for a Stark. With all the time you spent in the compound, with your friends and family, you were one of the only powerless people among them. This whole time, you thought Peter understood. 

You thought the insecurity was shared, reciprocated. 

Clearly, you were wrong and an idiot. You were the only one powerless among them. 

It made you feel so stupid; to see all the inside jokes tossed over your head, to see every stupid excuse he made thrown back in your face, and he had the audacity to be sorry?

Damn right, he should be. 

Peter’s touch felt like sandpaper to your skin as he reached for your hand. You yanked it out, not bothering to turn around. 

You tried to be strong and suck up the pain, wanted more than anything to run up the stairs and lock yourself in your room—two quick steps up the stairwell and the adrenaline wore off. You slowed your pace, fighting off the wincing, and wanting anything but to ask for help from Spider–Man. 

“Y/N, please.” His voice broke, and you felt sinister to think him deserving of it. “Please, I– I wanted to tell you, I promise–“

He must’ve been surprised when you turned around, at the speed you pivoted, at how intense your expression came across, because he startled. 

Your eyes held no response to the hot tears flooding from them, only holding space for the anger and hurt you didn’t have the energy to hide from him. 

“Promise?” The word came out whispered, threatening to break just as his words did. “You promise, just like how we promised to tell each other everything?” You saw each stab of each word and exactly where it hit on him, especially as your voice grew in volume. “Just like how you promised I wasn’t weak, when clearly, you know damn well how ironic that is!”

Twin tears slid down the length of his face, and you caught the subtle tremble in his bottom lip that he tried so hard to hide. “Please..” Now he was the one whispering, and you wish it sounded as satisfying as you wanted it to. 

“Don’t fucking sit there and act like you’re the hero here, Peter..” You couldn’t help the growl, couldn’t help the distaste inking down your body. Sure, you’d been hit with a knife just an hour prior in the evening, but you didn’t feel stabbed in the gut until now. “Don’t act like you understand shit about how I’m feeling right now!”

From just beyond, Tony started walking over, stepping quickly. “Hang on, Kid.” He cut in, stopping just a few paces behind Peter. “Don’t blame Peter for this.” His words practically turned up the heat on your burning rage. It was an effort to keep from boiling over. “I was the one who told him to keep quiet.”

The shakiest breath you’d taken all night forced its way down your throat. You finally pulled your eyes from Peter, watching your own father flinch at just how hurt you were. “No, you were the one who decided to be selfish!”

The room had never been so quiet, even the walls and the city beyond hushed to listen. 

“I don’t care who you thought you were saving here, but it wasn’t me.” Perhaps rage wasn’t the word you should use to describe the venom dripping off your words. You were seething, a mixture of betrayal and downright distraught. 

“I am not useless.” You felt the need to emphasize; to you, or the two faulty in front of you, no one could tell. “I may be the only powerless person in the fuck ass Avengers, but at least I’m fucking honest.”

When you met Peter’s eyes again, you almost couldn’t keep your composure. Maybe he was breaking apart just as quickly as you were, but you didn’t put in effort to hold room for an apology for him. You didn’t see the need to give one at all. 

“I’m sorry..” He couldn’t bring his voice above a whisper, above the tremble shaking each breath he took. And watching the way your father’s posture craned in sympathy to it finally gave you a cue to leave. You couldn’t take it anymore. 

You glanced between both of them, still ignoring the consistent stream of tears dripping off your nose and chin. “You both fucking should be.”

Holding your head high, you made your way up the stairs, pausing three steps up your trek when you heard a singular step in your direction. 

“Don’t fucking follow me.”

And you didn’t look back. 

The second you shut and locked your bedroom door, unshakable sobs spilled from your throat and choked you dry. You had never felt so isolated, so alone, and so pained. 

Truly, you did not know how it would get better from here, and all you wanted was to be held. 

You didn’t even know who you'd talk to about this. This betrayal stretched across every person you trusted, further than your eyesight. 

It was stupid, and you blamed yourself, but all you wanted to do was talk to Peter. 

Maybe not about it or to confront it right then, but you suddenly missed him and his support. You felt like that had been stripped away from you. 

You weren't sure how to trust him anymore, let alone anyone else who hid this from you.

It didn’t help that you replayed countless upon countless interactions—with your father, with Ned, and with Peter Parker Spider–Man himself. 

It reminded you of the last time you were mad at Peter, three years prior. 

At the Washington Monument. 

You remember him flaking on the academic decathlon, and flaking the night before. You were upset because he was obviously hiding something and he wouldn’t tell you what. 

“You promised we’d hang out tonight.” You remember calling after him, walking half the length of the hotel hallway after him, too. “I feel like I haven’t seen you all week!”

Peter was a pro at walking backwards, then and now, and as you always knew him to be. Even as you knew him as a klutz, even as it led him to keep walking away from you. “I’ll be back soon. I promise!”

It felt unfair to him to get frustrated with him, but you were. You were upset. “What? So your promises mean nothing?” 

That got him to stop. 

“What? No!” Defense, immediately. His eyes displayed more apology than his lips did, taking steps towards you. “I just.. I have to go, and I can explain it later–”

Your head shook at him. Whatever sparked you to feel upset had been growing for a while. It had been growing since he started ditching you a few months prior. “That’s what you said last time.” There was hurt in your voice, and you know he heard it. 

“But I–”

“We promised to tell each other everything.” You recalled your childhood together, your friendship before you started growing up. The two of you had known each other since elementary school, so changes like this was inevitable. It wasn't fair to hold him to the same standards you used to. “But if you want to go, don’t expect me to be buddy-buddy when you get back.”

You remember how it felt to walk away, but you remembered how it felt to hear him leave even more. That was harmful. 

He was entitled to grow up, just as you were, but the shifty way he started growing distant from you got you overthinking. 

It got you nervous that maybe he was seeing someone, and that hurt more than anything else. Especially that he was hiding it from you. 

What sucked the most was that Peter wasn’t back soon, or even that night. 

In fact, he wasn’t even at the academic decathlon. 

Part of you was relieved to get space from him, seeing how difficult all these feelings were to process; another part worried about him, but every time your anxiety would fester, something would serve a reminder of why you were upset in the first place. 

You won the decathlon without him. As you should.

After that, your team went to the Washington Monument, and Ned swore that Peter would meet you all there. 

“Look!” Ned tried to convince you, tried to break your unamused expression. “His location says he’s almost here.” And the phone screen he flashed at you proved honesty. Peter was minutes away. 

Before you could muster a response, Ned’s screen changed, and Peter was calling him. 

There was an awkward exchange of glances between the two of you before Ned answered the call and you walked through the metal detectors. 

“Peter, are you okay?” You couldn’t help but eavesdrop. You missed a phrase or two while security patted down your blazer. All you caught was Ned muttering a subtle “I covered for you,” and then Liz Allen taking the phone from his hands. 

Something hollow carved into your stomach at the sight, and you began to speculate whether Liz was the girl he was sneaking off with or not. 

You didn’t wait to find out. You walked right into the elevator, joining the rest of your decathlon group. 

You didn’t remember much about the trip up the elevator, all you remember was light emitting out of Ned’s backpack and something radioactive blasting right into the roof of the cart. 

Suddenly, with trembling limbs and a newfound panic, your squabble with Peter Parker seemed more than minuscule. Regret was quick to fill that hollowing pit in your gut. 

You’d blacked out a lot of those scarce moments in the elevator. But you remembered when it was safe enough to move, the security guard began to open the hatch at the top of the elevator cart, and one by one help your classmates out. 

It wasn’t until there were four of you left in the elevator that it finally fell down the shaft towards your demise. There, in that Monument, you would die with Ned, Liz, and your teacher, Mister Harrington, you were sure of it. 

You’d never forget the relief you’d felt at the sight of red and blue rushing toward you, plummeting quicker than you were, and webbing your way to safety. 

It felt odd to look back on, knowing now that it was Peter who pulled that elevator up to your safety. How you were only concerned then with apologizing to Peter Parker, who glanced at you there from beneath that mask, completely unbeknownst to you. 

Once he’d gotten you up to the top of the Monument, Ned was the first to leap out to safety, then Mister Harrington. The two of them helped Liz get out, and to your luck, just as you took a step forward, the webs above you snapped. 

You and Spider–Man fell with a blood curdling scream breaking through you. 

“NO!!” He called after you, and quickly shot a web up to the roof again. His other arm reached out toward you, webbing your wrist rather quickly, keeping you from falling any further. 

“It’s okay. You’re okay– I got you. You're okay..” He told you, his tone as gentle and soft as you knew it to be; yet, not a single thought crossed your mind that it was Peter Parker. 

You shakily dangled beneath him as he tugged you up from that web. You fought to look up at him, to keep yourself from looking down; you fought to keep the tears at bay as the shock flooded from your system. 

The second your hands touched, he pulled you up and into him. You wasted no time before wrapping your arms around him, hugging him for dear life. And it made sense, now, why he felt so familiar—why his warmth was so comforting, and why his arm around your waist felt like it belonged there. 

He held you securely, lulling those reassurances to you, pulling the two of you up to safety at the top of that Monument. 

Just before he set you down, you held him tighter. “Pe–Peter!” You gasped, and felt every muscle beneath your hold tense. 

Now, you knew why. 

You pulled back from his arms, “Peter Parker, my– my best friend! He was on his way over here.” Your voice shook as you explained, but watching him carefully set you on the ground helped to steady yourself a little. “Can you make sure– Could you make sure that he’s okay?”

Looking back, the reason why Spider–Man gaped at you so long must’ve been Peter contemplating whether or not to tell you who he was right then and there. He stared at you, beneath that mask, for what felt like minutes. 

He gave a singular, upside down, nod. “I can do that, ma’am.” And his thick, Bronx, accent threw you off more than you wanted to admit. 

Then he fell down the empty shaft of the elevator. 

You’d never forget the moment he found you after that. 

You had just gotten out of the Monument. With a shaky hand, you went through your phone to track Peter’s location. It said he was a matter of meters from you, but you couldn’t spot him in the crowd. 

Just as you went to ask Ned, Peter’s voice hollered out, calling your name. 

Both of you turned in his direction, the crowd of people parting for him as he ran over to you, catching you in a bone–crushing hug. One of his hands cradled your head into his chest, and the other kept itself snug around your waist, just like Spider–Man had earlier. "I'm so glad you're okay.." He whispered it into your hairline, just for you to keep.

The world washed away in the arms of Peter Parker. You couldn’t help but wrap your arms around him, too, hugging him effortlessly closer. Apologies from your argument the night before fell from your lips, and he also followed suit. 

You recalled that memory as something that defined how you and Peter operated—no matter what, you couldn’t stay mad at him. 

You would always find a way to forgive him. 

Now, remembering the incident was a bit more haunting. There was no telling how you and Peter would come back from this, nor just how long you’d go without each other.

And you didn't think Spider–Man would get you out of it, this time.

tag–list: @yourfavoritefangirl @inkedeye2345 @wxnterwidow333 @generalmoonpolice @elianamarie-blog

comment for the part three tag list;)

[p3terparker]

𝗯𝗮𝗯𝘆 𝗺𝗲 - 𝗽𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗿

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: peter wants to be babied.

𝘄/𝗰: 0.5k

𝗮/𝗻: hey guys!! it has been nearly a year since i’ve last written and i just wanna say i’m sorry for leaving for so long </3 please do bear with me, this may not be that good judging by how long it’s been since i’ve last written. i hope you enjoy though! also for everyone who has requested something, i haven’t forgotten about you! i’m getting to those soon :)

“please hold me” 

it’s nearly 1am and you’re sprawled out on your bed watching some random movie that was playing on tv. you’ve been up waiting for hours for peter to come by after patrol, and now he’s finally here sneaking in through your window.

“are you okay baby? you finished up pretty late” you question softly as you take off his mask and brush his hair out of his face.

“i’m fine. i just want you to hold me” he says tiredly and practically puts all of his body weight on you, causing you both to fall back onto your bed.

adjusting yourselves to get more comfortable, you’re now laid back on your pillow as you hug peters large frame while his face is nuzzled in your chest.

you two lay silently as you rub his back until you decide to break the silence.

“you know, you’re still in your suit. you’re getting my bed dirty.”

“you just want me to take it off so you can see me naked”

“you’re done” you say before attempting to push him off of you. peter quickly caught your hands before you could even try.

“how did you–”

“i’m spider-man, baby”

“clearly” you chuckle, referring to him still being in his suit.

“since you want to see me naked so bad, i’ll take it off” he groans as if it’s the hardest task in the world. “happy now?”

“very. now come lay back down”

you don’t have to tell him twice. he quickly gets back into the position you two were in before and enjoys the warmth and comfort you bring him.

“you’re so perfect petey, did you know that?”

“mmm” he groans into as he nuzzles his face further into your chest, enjoying the sudden compliment.

“i mean seriously. you’re so smart, so strong, so caring and so funny. you being handsome is just the cherry on top”

“stoppp” he whines. “i’m blushing.”

“okay fine, i’m done”

“nooo, i didn’t mean it! keep going please” he cries as he lifts up his head to look at you.

“you are truly such a big baby”

“i’m your big baby. now continue please, i love being praised by you.”

how could you deny him?

“i love how cute you are. you have the prettiest brown hair and eyes. your face is perfectly sculpted too. i don’t know how i got blessed with the most handsome boyfriend in the world.” 

“mmm” he groans again in complete ecstasy. hearing your compliments is like music to his ears.

“you’re so cute, i just want to squish your cheeks” you say before lifting his head up slightly and squishing his cheeks together.

you cannot believe he’s letting you baby him like this.

“aww petey, you’re so adorable” 

“thank you” he says with a pink tint on his cheeks as he rests his head on your chest again, suddenly feeling sleepy.

you two sat in silence for a few more minutes and he peacefully drifted to sleep.

you were definitely going to make fun of him for tonight in the morning.

[im-sleepdeprived]

do u think u can do a Peter Parker x reader where reader is gone for a while and has her phone off, and Peter gets super scared only to find out she’s alright?? I love ur work u’re the best xx

'No location found'

pairing: peter parker x reader

a/n: thank you for the request !!!! i had this written, then I decided to rewrite it lmao. I pictured college pete but Im not sure if I specified, also not sure if anyone saw my post abt writing a fic inspired by ‘peter’ by taylor swift but i think im going to start working on that and that its gonna be a mini series👀.... so stay tuned and request something in the meantime !!

warnings: none

masterlist, requests are open !!

“That’s not what I said!”

“Oh? Well, that’s what I heard.”

You two had been going at it for a while now. Peter had missed yet another date you’d both planned. It’d been a while since you both spent time together, and you thought he was finally going to change that. Until he just stood you up again. 

You’d thought after moving in together, you’d see him all the time. The opposite was true. He was always out, either on patrol, at Stark Tower, or wherever else his Superhero duties took him.  The problem was, that place never seemed to be with you.

“Y/N please-”

“No, Peter! I’m sick of it! I try to be understanding, I really do, I try to give you grace, but every time I do it’s like you just make it worse.” You sighed and ran a hand through your hair, “Honestly at this point, it feels like you don’t even care anymore.”

His face fell. “Come on baby. You can't seriously think that! It was just a mistake, I won't do it again.”

You nodded, “Right. Think I’ve heard that one before.” You turned around and walked towards your shared bedroom.

“Woah, hey. Wait a minute, where’re you going?” His voice was hurt, and you almost felt bad for turning your back.

Shaking your head and looked down at your dress. You’d gotten all dressed up, expecting a nice dinner followed by a walk in the park. You said, “I’m tired, I’m gonna change and get ready for bed. Sorry, but hey, at least now your schedule is freed up,” you gave him a weak smile, “You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Y/N you know it’s not like that. Look you’re all dressed up,” he reached for your arm, “we can still go out. Please, let me make it up to you”

Looking into his eyes, it took everything in you to pull away. 

“Peter,” you whispered, voice so quiet, yet so full of emotion. 

“I don’t want us to fight,” he begged. 

'We’re not fighting, not anymore. I just want to be alone.”

“Okay.” He nodded, but still kept his hand on you, reluctant to let go. “I’ll sleep on the couch?”

You nodded, not trusting your voice right now.

He deflated. He wasn’t exactly expecting you to object, but still. It hurt that you wanted to be away from him so bad. 

“Good night,” he muttered, watching you walk towards the door with sullen eyes. “I’m right here if you need anything.”

You gave him the tiniest tip of your head, not even bothering to turn around, “Night.”

There was no way he was getting any sleep tonight.

You slept in that day. It was Saturday and you didn’t feel like doing anything. Even after you woke up, you stayed in bed scrolling on your phone, heart pounding a little harder when you saw messages from Peter pop up, before effectively sliding them away.

After a few hours of doomscrolling, you stepped out of the room. You could see a throw blanket neatly folded on the couch, you have no idea if he’d even used a pillow. Your heart thrummed with guilt and you decided that tonight he was definitely sleeping on the bed. Or at the very least, you’d sleep on the couch. 

Walking into the kitchen, you noticed a tray with a note sitting atop a covered plate. When you got closer, you saw that the note held a cheesy breakfast pun. So Peter.

I love you a waffle lot! With a bunch of hearts around it. You couldn’t help it, you cracked a smile. He was such a dork. And you loved it. 

You heated up your breakfast and had gotten well into eating when your phone started ringing. Was it Peter? You didn’t really want to speak to him, not yet at least. You’d kind of hoped you wouldn’t have to until tonight-

You picked up your phone and almost let out a sigh of relief when you realized it was just one of your friends, Maddie. Then you felt bad for feeling relieved. 

You answered the phone. “Hey Mads, how's it going.” 

“Hi Y/N! Good! I was just calling to see if you wanted to go out tonight? Listen, before you say no-”

“No that sounds great actually,” you cut her off quickly, eager for an excuse to get out of the house. You’d been canceling plans for way too long in hopes of spending even a moment with Peter, and it seemed as if even your friends had noticed. But no more.

“Really? Great! So there's this raging new club,” she went on, giving you all the details of who was going and who might be there and you listened but barely felt a hint of excitement. You weren’t sure if it was because it was a frat party, and those things rarely appealed to you, or if it was lingering feelings from your argument with Peter. Which reminded you why you’d wanted to go out in the first place. 

“We’re gonna pregame at my place though, so stop by here and I’ll take you!” She finished, making you smile. Maddie was always sweet, a little more wild than you, but that’s what made you like her. 

“Sure Maddie, thanks for the invite.”

“Of course, can’t wait to see you, I feel like it's been forever since we went out together.”

You let out a small laugh, “I know what you mean. But we’re gonna change that tonight. 

You said your goodbyes and hung up. You needed to start getting ready soon, despite you just eating breakfast, you’d stayed in all morning and it was pretty late already. 

You got ready quietly, only a playlist you’d turned on droning in the background as you did your hair and makeup. You walked over to the closet to pick out an outfit and felt a little sad. Usually, Peter was here during this part, helping you pick out something, annoying you when he said you looked beautiful in everything. 

“Peter! I need real criticism!”

“Well, I can’t help it if my girl looks stunning in everything!”

You picked out a nice outfit you deemed fit for clubbing before grabbing a pair of heels and stepping out of your room. Looking around at the empty apartment you realized you should probably let Peter know you weren’t going to be home tonight. You didn’t feel like calling him though, and if you didn’t want to open his messages from earlier either so you decided to take a page out of his book. 

Grabbing a sticky note, you wrote down the briefest of explanations, before sticking it on your fridge and leaving. 

He had sent texts saying Good morning!, Do you need anything?, and another explaining he’d be out for a while but he’d made you breakfast, all in hopes of you responding to him. You didn’t, but that wasn’t too shocking to him. It didn’t make it hurt any less though. 

He knew he fucked up. He knew he’d disappointed you again, let you down again. He knew he deserved this and more. He should be grateful you weren’t giving him the more. And he was! But he couldn’t help the small selfish part of him that just wished you would let him take you out tonight, or give him something else he could do to make up for it because there was nothing he hated more in the world than when you were mad at him. And he did not want to sleep on the couch again. Sure it was uncomfortable but that was the least of his worries. He hated not sleeping next to you.

That had been his favorite part about the two of you moving into your own place, that he got to hold you every night. After a rough night of patrolling, or working too long on his studies, or a new gadget, he got to go home and hold you, get lost in your touch, and that always made everything better. And it killed him to know you were just down the hall, and he wasn’t with you. 

He tried his best to rush everything, trying to get all his work done for the day so he could spend the whole night with you. He was planning a movie night, bingeing all your favorites. He was gonna give you a proper date, soon, but right now, all that mattered was you two spending time together. 

On his way home, he stopped at a corner store to grab snacks for the two of you, making sure to get all your favorite ones. He even stopped at a flower shop not far from your apartment to grab you a bouquet and his heart fell when he realized how long it’d been since he’d done this. He definitely deserved the more. 

He knocked on the door of your apartment a few times and his heart fell as he realized you were either dead set on ignoring him, or you weren’t home. When he pulled out his keys and let himself in, he realized it was the latter. 

Sighing, he set down the bags of snacks and placed the bouquet down as he ran a hand through his hair as he walked around. He entered the kitchen and felt a little better when he saw the dishes he’d used to plate your breakfast were washed and on the drying rack, meaning you’d eaten. 

He was about to pull out his phone to see if he’d missed a text from you when he saw something on the fridge. 

“Went out. Be home late.”

His brows furrowed as he read. He didn’t know you had plans. Hell, he didn’t even know if you had plans now, your note barely explained anything.

All he could do was wait until you came home to sort everything out.

Peter could handle the silent treatment (barely), but what he couldn't handle, was not knowing if you were safe or not. No. That wouldn’t fly. 

He’d sent you a text when he got home, letting you know he got your note and to have fun and be safe. 

An hour later, he sent another text. Just as a little check-in. Still no response. 

It had been about three hours since he’d gotten back when he noticed that his messages had lost the little mark that indicated they were delivered. Weird. 

He tried to call you, he’d refrained from doing so before because he thought he should let you have your space (which was why, he assumed, you’d left in the first place) but it didn’t even ring, he just got sent straight to voicemail. 

What made him really start to panic, however, was when he went to check your location, which he felt so stupid for not doing before, and it wouldn’t load. It kept saying ‘no location found’ making his heart beat harder.

This was worse. You were ignoring him, his messages and calls weren’t going through. Something was wrong, was your phone off? Were you mugged? Or even worse-

He stopped himself before he could spiral too hard. That wouldn’t help, right now, he needed to figure out where you were and if you were okay.  He knew you weren’t the kind of person who would go out to bars or parties alone. Maybe you went out with a friend? Or maybe you were at a friend's? It was a place to start. 

He started calling your friends, people he knew you might go out with, and on the fifth call he finally got answers. Or…something like that. 

“Hello?” Maddie yelled into the phone, making Peter pull his phone away. 

“Hey Maddie, it’s Peter.”

“Oh yeah, Y/N’s dude,” she slurred. 

“Yeah, yeah, Y/N’s dude. Hey listen, is she with you? She went out tonight but she forgot to tell me where, and now my messages aren’t sending.” His pulse was racing. It sounded like Maddie was out, if the blaring music in the background was anything to go off of, and he was desperate to know you were okay. 

“Sorry Patrick, what’d you say,” she asked making Peter’s brows furrow. They weren’t exactly friends, but he’d met Maddie a few times. Enough times for her to know his name was not Patrick.

He shook his head, that didn’t matter right now. “Y/N. Is she with you, do you go out together?”

“Oh!” She exclaimed as if she’d just remembered something. “Yeah, she is!”

Peter let out a sigh of relief. 

“Or, she was.” He held his breath again. 

“What do you mean ‘she was’? Where is she?”

“I dunno, she left I think.” Maddie let out a little hum as if to say ‘too bad!’ and Peter was sure she must be extremely intoxicated, otherwise there was no way she could be so casual about something like this. He could barely keep himself together.

He ran a hand over his face as he tried not to raise his voice. This was getting frustrating. “She left? Where’d she go? Where are you right now?”

“I don’t know…she was bored I think. She was off today. S’shame, she looked so hot.”

His heart clenched when he realized the reason you were off, was because of him. You didn’t have fun, so you left, now he had no idea where you were and it was all his fault. 

“Where are you, Maddie?” He repeated. 

“That new club on 27th! Get down here Paul, it's so much fun!” She gushed and Peter rolled his eyes. He didn’t have time for this. 

He hung up quickly, not bothering to say goodbye before he got up to put his suit on. He couldn't stand the thought of something happening to you because you were upset and distracted because of him. That you weren't even speaking to him.

There was no way he was going to let anything happen to you. 

You were walking outside, up and down the sidewalk. You knew it wasn’t the safest decision but you didn’t really care. The club was stuffy, humid, and way too loud. You just needed to breathe, and then you’d go back. Maybe. 

You considered hailing a cab and going back home right now. You’d send Maddie a text, but she probably hadn’t noticed you’d left in the first. She’d been having a blast, unlike you, drinking shots and dancing with every guy she felt like. You weren’t sure she remembered you stopping her to tell her you’d be gone for a bit. 

On second thought, you were kind of hungry. You hadn’t eaten anything other than Peter’s waffles for you that morning and there was an amazing smell floating from a food cart at the end of the block. You could help yourself to something before going home. 

Before you could reach the food cart, you were flying. Or rather, swinging. You knew who it was right away. 

Just as fast as he’d snatched you up, Peter put you down on an isolated rooftop, leaving just you and him high above everyone else.

You were about to reprimand him, about to demand an answer as to why he’d just done that, but there wasn’t a chance before he was pulling you into a bone-crushing hug.

“Pete?” Your voice was soft, you sensed there was something wrong and suddenly any anger or annoyance you held, from now or the night before, disappeared.

“You’re okay,” he mumbled as if that was his way of an answer. 

Your brows furrowed. “Well…yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

He pulled away then, taking off his mask, and you saw just how terrified he looked, scaring you as well. There might’ve even been a little red rimming his eyes, making you wonder if he was holding back tears. “I came home and I brought snacks and flowers and I thought we could spend the rest of the night together but saw your note. So I texted you and I get that you’re mad at me-”

“I’m not,” you said, and you meant it. You weren’t mad at him, especially right now, seeing him all shaken up like this. “But what's wrong?”

“My texts weren’t delivering, my calls went straight to voicemail, and I couldn’t track your location. Y/N, I got so scared something happened and you weren’t talking to me.” He sniffled and your heart broke a little. 

You reached into your bag and pulled out your phone, but when you tried to turn it on—dead. 

“God sweetheart, never do that to me again. Please.” He looked at you desperately, “Yell at me. Fight with me. But please never ignore me anymore, I can’t stand it.”

“I’m so sorry Petey, I had no idea my phone died. I would’ve said something I swear. I never want you to worry like that.” Your hands went up to hold his face. 

He brought a hand to hold your wrist. Gently running his thumb up and down your hand he said, “I always worry about you sweetheart, it’s my job.”

You shook your head, “You worry about all of New York, I don’t need to add on to that.”

“No,” he said quickly, looking offended you’d even say that, “No. Never think like that. You are the most important thing in my life, okay? You’re my first priority and I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, that I don’t show that or say it enough.

“But I’m going to do better, I promise. I’m going to make it up to you because I can’t lose you, I need you Y/N.”

You didn’t reply, instead just smashed your lips onto his. His hands slid down to your waist, holding you tight. It was a kiss of forgiveness, of second chances, and new beginnings.

He pulled away first, but not before pressing multiple kisses all around your face. “Heels off baby,” he said as he knelt down and started working on your heel straps, lifting each foot onto his thigh before undoing each one. You didn’t even realize how much they’d been hurting until they were off. “I’m swinging you.” He picked you up swiftly, one arm wrapping itself around your ribs.

You groaned, wrapping your arms around his neck, “Peteyyyy. You know the wind tangles my hair too much.”

“Don’t worry,” he said, leaning over to kiss you on the top of your head, “I’ll be careful, c’mon.”

You move your head to peck his cheek and then hug him tight, “I love you.”

He grinned, pulling you in closer. “I love you more sweetheart.” He leaned back and pressed a quick kiss to your lips. “Hold on tight, Spider Monkey.”

You burst into laughter, “You did not just say that!” 

“Oh I totally did,” he gave you the goofiest smile, making you laugh again. 

“Ok, just…don’t let me go,” you said as you wrapped your arms tighter around him. 

“Never,” he replied, and something in his voice told you he wasn’t just talking about swinging. 

[cruel-seduction]

A World Without You

(Picture taken from Pinterest)

Pairing - Peter Parker x Female Reader

Genre - Angst 

Summary: When Peter Parker wakes up in a world where Y/N never existed, he thinks he's been given the gift of freedom—no one to put in danger. But as the emptiness of her absence consumes him, Peter begins to question the cost of his choice. How far will he go to bring Y/N back, and who—or what—was behind her disappearance in the first place? Can Peter undo the deal he made, or is he trapped in a world where love never existed?

Glimpse - He thought back to their last conversation, where Y/N had called him a "Nerd" for winning at chess everytime, to which he’d fired back, calling them "a hopeless case with zero taste in music."

Warnings: This story contains heavy angst and emotional distress, exploring themes of loneliness, guilt, and the consequences of difficult choices. It also includes elements of reality distortion and manipulation, which may be unsettling for some readers. Proceed with caution if you're sensitive to intense emotional scenarios.

***

Peter Parker woke up with a start. His heart pounded in his chest, the remnants of a nightmare clinging to his mind like a fading mist. His body ached in places he didn’t know could hurt. The city skyline blinked outside his window as it always did, but something about the silence felt…off. He rubbed his face, trying to shake off the strange unease gnawing at his gut. It wasn’t unusual for Peter to wake up in a cold sweat after a brutal night of web-swinging, but this time was different. The feeling lingered like a whisper he couldn’t quite hear.

He groaned, rolling out of bed and pulling on a T-shirt. Maybe some breakfast would help clear his head. He padded barefoot into the kitchen, expecting to hear the familiar hum of Y/N’s terrible music playing in the background as they whipped up something quick before heading out. But the apartment was eerily quiet. Too quiet.

“Babe?” he called, only half-expecting a response. Silence. Peter frowned. It wasn’t like Y/N to leave without saying goodbye, even when they had early shifts. Maybe she’s at work already.

But the more Peter looked around, the more he realised something was wrong. The photos on the fridge—the ones of him and Y/N from their last disastrous attempt at a beach day—were gone. He checked the living room; no sign of Y/N’s jacket, their shoes, or the usual clutter that always accumulated near the door. Where the hell are they?

The sinking feeling in Peter’s chest deepened as he began to search the apartment. Their stuff was gone. All of it.

Peter’s mind raced. Has Y/N left him? No, that didn’t make sense. Things had been good between them. They always were, even when they fought. And their playful insults were never serious, just the way they communicated. He thought back to their last conversation, where Y/N had called him a "Nerd" for winning at chess everytime, to which he’d fired back, calling them "a hopeless case with zero taste in music."

But there was love in every jab, every joke. He knew Y/N didn’t mean any of it, and he didn’t either. It was their love language—twisting insults into affection in the way only they could. He could still hear their laugh in his mind, could still feel the way Y/N would poke him in the ribs after a particularly savage comeback.

But now, that warmth is gone. All of it.

Peter’s head was spinning. He pulled out his phone and quickly dialled Y/N’s number. The line rang once, twice, and then, “The number you’ve dialled is not in service.”

Not in service?

Peter’s stomach flipped. He called again, and the same automated voice greeted him. Panic rose in his throat. He rushed outside and knocked on the neighbour’s door.

“Hey, Mrs. Martinez, have you seen Y/N today? She—” Peter began, but Mrs. Martinez gave him a confused look.

“Y/N? Who’s Y/N?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Peter’s heart skipped a beat. “You know…my—my girlfriend? The person I live with?” he stammered, his voice unsteady. Mrs. Martinez’s frown deepened.

“I’ve lived here for twenty years, Peter. I’ve never seen you with anyone. You live alone.”

Peter’s world tilted. What?

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. He tried to laugh it off, but the horror was sinking in. “You’ve—of course you’ve seen them, Mrs. Martinez. She is always around…”

But the older woman shook her head sympathetically, patting him on the shoulder. “You’ve had a tough week, sweetheart. Maybe you need to take it easy.” She retreated back into her apartment, leaving Peter standing there, frozen.

He sprinted back to his place, his thoughts racing. What the hell is going on?

He fumbled for his laptop, searching through his social media, his phone photos, anything—anything—that could prove Y/N existed. But there was nothing. Not a single picture, no text messages, no memories captured on his phone. It was like they had been erased.

Peter’s chest heaved with panic. This can’t be real.

But it was.

As the day dragged on, the nightmare didn’t end. It only got worse. No one—no one—remembered Y/N. Their friends, their coworkers, even Aunt May looked confused when Peter mentioned their name.

Peter slumped onto the couch, staring blankly at the wall. How is this happening? He gripped his head with both hands, feeling the weight of Y/N’s absence like a suffocating blanket. He didn’t know if it was magic, science, or something worse.

But the silence? The emptiness?

It was unbearable.

At first, he had thought maybe—just maybe—this was for the best. Y/N was safe, right? Without him in their life, without Spider-Man lurking in the background, they wouldn’t be in danger. They wouldn’t have to deal with late-night patch-ups, watching him stumble in bruised and bloodied, hearing him apologise over and over for missing dinner or forgetting plans because someone needed saving.

But this wasn’t peace. This was torment.

Peter thought back to the moments they’d shared, the playful insults and sarcastic remarks that only drew them closer. He remembered Y/N’s smile when they called him a "complete idiot" after he bungled a dinner reservation. Or the time he jokingly told them to "Haww!! You are only with me for that ass" when she tried to help him fix his suit and squeezed his ass in teasinf way. The way Y/N had thrown a pillow at his head, laughing the whole time.

He missed it. All of it. The teasing, the arguments, the late-night takeout dinners where they’d bicker about who had worse taste in movies.

And now…he had nothing.

Peter couldn’t stay here. Not in this reality.

The thought gnawed at him—how had he ended up here? He hadn’t done anything out of the ordinary. Sure, he’d been toying with new tech from Oscorp, but nothing experimental. Nothing that should have thrown him into some alternate dimension. Then, in a flash, a memory surfaced.

The last night he spent with Y/N before everything changed. A strange figure had appeared—someone with no face, no form, just a voice. A voice that had whispered to him about choices, about the dangers of loving someone so deeply while being Spider-Man. At the time, Peter had brushed it off, thinking it was just the stress talking, some weird fever dream. But what if…?

What if that figure had done this? Created a world where Y/N never existed?

Peter had to find answers. He had to get Y/N back. He couldn’t stay in a place where every corner, every sound reminded him of what he’d lost. The weight of their absence crushed him more each second.

As he sat there, planning his next move, Peter realised something chilling. The figure—whoever they were—had offered him a choice that night. A chance to live without burdening the people he loved with Spider-Man’s dangers. And in a moment of weakness, of exhaustion, maybe Peter had unknowingly made that deal.

But he hadn’t meant it.

Peter Parker was no stranger to guilt. He’d lived with it every day since Uncle Ben died. But this? This was different. This was the pain of choosing to save someone by erasing them entirely.

He couldn’t undo what had happened on his own. He needed to find the entity who had done this and force them to undo it. But first, he had to survive in a world that was a constant reminder of what he’d lost.

And that meant holding onto the memories of Y/N. The real memories.

He could hear Y/N’s voice in his head now: “Peter, you absolute dumbass, you know you can’t live without me, right?” He could imagine the smirk that came with it, the light in their eyes when they teased him.

“Yeah, well,” Peter muttered to the empty room, his voice cracking. “Turns out you’re right.”

Peter sat in the deafening silence of his apartment, his mind running in a thousand directions. Y/N was gone. No one remembered her, as if she'd never existed. And the only explanation he could cling to was that entity—that faceless, shadowy figure from the night before everything changed. A vague memory whispered at the back of his mind, telling him that he’d been offered a choice. But how could he have agreed to something so horrifying?

The truth, as much as it made him sick, was simple: Peter had been desperate. He’d been exhausted, weighed down by guilt and fear, always worrying about Y/N’s safety. Every time she patched him up after a fight, every time she stayed up late waiting for him to come home, Peter felt that gnawing fear that one day, she wouldn’t be there anymore. And for one brief, weak moment, the thought of her being safe—being away from Spider-Man’s world—had seemed like a blessing.

But he hadn’t realized the cost. Not like this. Not the emptiness.

Peter shot out of his chair, pacing the apartment as a plan started to form in his mind. He had to find the entity. That much was clear. This wasn’t just some glitch in reality; this was a deliberate choice—a deal made between him and something far more powerful. But if Peter had the power to get himself into this mess, then he had to have the power to get out.

First, he needed answers. How did he find the entity again?

Peter remembered that it hadn’t come from nowhere. The figure had appeared while he was messing around with Oscorp’s tech, but it wasn’t just any tech. It had been an experimental quantum destabilizer—a device meant to measure energy fluctuations between different dimensions. Harry Osborn had been talking about it for weeks, trying to figure out if they could tap into the multiverse for...who knows what. Science had never been Peter's strong suit, but he had a hunch that the entity had slipped through during one of those experiments.

Multiverse. The word hit him like a truck.

Was this even his universe anymore? Or was he trapped in another reality where Y/N had never existed?

Peter’s heart raced at the possibility. If Y/N was truly gone—not just from his life but from all universes—he might never get her back. But if she still existed somewhere, in some timeline, then Peter would burn through every dimension until he found her.

He knew the first place to start: Oscorp.

Later that night, after slipping into his Spider-Man suit, Peter swung across the city towards Oscorp Tower. It was late, the city’s streets quieter than usual, but Peter’s mind was anything but calm. He landed on the roof and quickly made his way inside, avoiding security cameras with the ease of someone who had done it countless times before.

The lab was exactly how he remembered it—rows of cold, gleaming equipment, the soft hum of high-tech machinery filling the air. But Peter wasn’t interested in the usual tools. He needed the quantum destabilizer.

Peter found it stashed away in a corner, covered in dust. He hooked it up to the main computer and started running a search for energy signatures. If that entity had come from another universe, there had to be some kind of residual trace left behind.

As the machine hummed to life, Peter’s thoughts drifted back to Y/N. Why had he said yes to losing her? In that moment, when the entity had whispered in his ear, offering him peace, safety, an escape from the constant fear of Y/N being hurt...he had caved. He’d thought it was a way to protect her.

But now he realized how wrong he’d been. Protecting Y/N wasn’t about keeping her away—it was about fighting alongside her, loving her despite the risks. Peter had always known that deep down, but fear had clouded his judgment. He’d chosen what he thought was the easy way out, but now he would do anything—anything—to undo it.

The machine beeped, jolting him from his thoughts. The screen flickered, showing a faint, pulsing signature. Peter’s heart raced as he recognized the same strange energy from that night. It wasn’t from his universe. The entity had come from somewhere else.

He plugged in the coordinates, knowing that if he followed the trail, it would lead him to the source—to the entity.

The next night, Peter swung through a dim, fog-covered alley deep in the city. The air felt thick, heavy with something unnatural. He could sense it—the same strange energy signature he'd tracked.

And then, like stepping through a veil, the air around him shimmered, and the entity appeared. A swirling mass of shadow, faceless and formless, its voice an eerie whisper that seemed to echo inside Peter’s head.

“You seek to undo what you asked for, Spider-Man?”

Peter’s jaw clenched. “You tricked me. I didn’t know what I was agreeing to.”

The entity’s voice hissed, low and mocking. “I offered you peace. I offered you freedom. You accepted.”

“I didn’t want this!” Peter shouted, his fists trembling. “I didn’t want to lose her! I—” His voice broke. “I love her.”

“Love is weakness,” the entity whispered. “It makes you vulnerable. It clouds your judgment. I gave you a world free from that burden.”

“Love makes me strong,” Peter said, his voice filled with determination. “I don’t want a world where Y/N doesn’t exist. I want her with me, in all her imperfect, wonderful chaos. And I’m going to fight you until you bring her back.”

The entity laughed—a sound that rattled the very air around him. “You think you can fight me, Spider-Man? I am beyond your comprehension. I am the architect of realities. I gave you a gift.”

Peter’s eyes hardened beneath the mask. “Then I’ll take it back.”

Without another word, Peter launched himself at the entity, his fists glowing with the energy from the quantum destabilizer. But the entity was fast, shifting and slipping through his grasp like smoke. Every time Peter thought he had it cornered, it would reform behind him, taunting him with whispers.

“You will fail,” it hissed. “I am all-powerful. You are nothing but a boy pretending to be a hero.”

Peter gritted his teeth, focusing on the entity’s movements. It might be powerful, but it had a weakness—every entity did. He just had to find it. And then, as the entity shifted again, Peter saw it—a flicker in its form, a moment where it hesitated.

That hesitation was all he needed.

Peter leaped into the air, firing a blast from the destabilizer at the exact moment the entity began to reform. The energy crackled, surging through the entity’s form. It screamed, its voice splitting the air like thunder. Peter didn’t let up, pouring everything he had into the attack. He thought of Y/N’s laugh, her smile, the way she called him out on his worst habits, the way she never let him get away with anything. All the moments they shared.

And then, with a final surge of energy, the entity shattered. The air around Peter shifted, reality bending and warping.

Peter collapsed to the ground, panting. For a moment, everything was still.

When he opened his eyes, Peter was lying on his apartment floor, the sunlight streaming through the window. His heart pounded in his chest. Was it real? Did he actually get her back?

“Peter? Why are you on the floor, you weirdo?”

His heart stopped. That voice—it was Y/N. He turned his head slowly, and there she was, standing in the doorway of the kitchen, holding a mug of coffee and looking at him with a raised eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips.

“Y/N…” His voice cracked as he scrambled to his feet, pulling her into his arms.

“Whoa, whoa!” Y/N laughed, clearly surprised. “What’s gotten into you? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I thought I lost you,” Peter whispered into her hair, holding her tight as if she might disappear again.

Y/N snorted, pulling back to look him in the eye. “Lost me? Please, Parker. You’re stuck with me, whether you like it or not. Now, stop being a dramatic idiot and help me make breakfast,”

Peter laughed, a tear slipping down his cheek as he smiled at her. “You can call me useless all you want.”

Y/N gave him a puzzled look. “What’s gotten into you?”

Peter just shook his head, kissing her forehead. “I love you.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Okay, now I’m worried.Is something wrong, babe?”

He laughed again. “Nah. Just…never leave, okay?”

Y/N smiled, her usual sarcastic grin lighting up her face. “I wasn’t planning on it. But you know, I could leave if you keep talking like a sappy idiot.”

“Shut up,” Peter muttered, pulling her closer. “I’m serious.”

“Fine, fine, I’ll stay,” Y/N teased, poking his chest. “But only because you’re the dumbest, nerdiest superhero I’ve ever met.”

Peter chuckled, finally feeling whole again. He had Y/N back. He’d fought for her, and now, he wasn’t letting go.

He never would.

[waitimcomingtoo]

And I Wouldn’t Marry Me Either

Pairing: Tom Holland x singer!reader

Synopsis: you release some songs about Tom after a disagreement ends in a breakup

Masterlist

“Marry me.”

“Right now? But I just got comfortable.” Tom mumbled into his pillow with a sleepy smile.

“I’m serious.” You whispered through a laugh and shook his shoulder. Tom’s eyes slowly opened and he could see the blurry outline of you lying next to him in your bed.

“What?”

“I’m just thinking.” You began. “We’ve been together five years.”

“I’m aware.” Tom laughed and snuggled back into his pillow.

“So we should do it. We should get married.” You propped yourself up on your elbow to look at him.

“We are married. Everyone knows you’re my girl.” Tom said without opening his eyes and pulled you into his arms. He tried to go back to sleep but you still wanted to talk.

“I know.” You laughed. “But I want to make it official.”

“What, in Gods eyes and all that? I didn’t think you cared about that.” He laughed dismissively and rolled over. You sat up fully in the bed and looked down at him.

“It’s not about that. I want the flowers and the dress and the rings. Don’t you want that?” You asked and shook him a little to clue him in that you were trying to have a serious conversation. You watched Tom shrug and roll onto his back to look up at you.

“I don’t know. I always found weddings kinda dumb.”

“What? What do you mean dumb?” You forced a laugh and tried to hide the disappointment in your tone.

“I mean, like, they’re not even legally binding. It’s this whole big celebration that people spend their life savings on just to get drunk and slid rings on each other fingers. You still have to go to the courthouse to get married and even that’s just a piece of paper.”

“Oh. I didn’t realize you felt that way.” You laughed shortly and picked at your nail polish to look busy.

“I didn’t realize you felt a different way.” He said and rolled back onto his stomach. Tom closed his eyes to go back to sleep and you felt your heart sink in your chest. You got out of the bed and opened the curtains a little to distract yourself with the view. You touched the silky white curtains and smiled to yourself as you thought of all the pictures of white dresses you had saved on your Pinterest throughout the years.

“I’ve always dreamed of my wedding.” You said over your shoulder. “I think every little girl does at some point. Every rom com I grew up on ends with the perfect fairy tale wedding. I always wanted that. I wanted my happy ending.”

“But those are just movies. I bet half those couples wouldn’t last in real life.”

“But it’s sweet that they plan that special day together and then get to celebrate their love in front of all their family and friends.”

“Yeah, all that planning just so they can get divorced before the first year is up.” Tom snorted. “I think the whole idea of weddings are stupid. I mean, you spend all that time and money planning for a one day event that people will just attend for the free booze. Plus, women starve themselves for months and spend thousands of dollars on a dress they’ll wear once? It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Wow. Tell me how you really feel, Tom.” You laughed shortly and folded your arms to glare at him. Tom sensed your tone and sat up in bed to pay better attention.

“I just think it’s all so ancient.” He shrugged. “I’m surprised you don’t agree. Weddings cannot exist without all the bullshit sexist traditions. I mean, the white dress to symbolize the brides supposed purity, the father of the bride literally “giving her away” to another man after being asked permission to get engaged in the first place, and then to top it off with her taking his last name because she’s now his property or something. It’s all so trivial and perverse.”

“It doesn’t have to be like that. Those traditions may be rooted in old fashioned thinking but I think it’s sweet to ask for my fathers permission. And yeah, I do want my dad holding my hand and walking me down the aisle. He’s not giving me away to be another man’s property, he’s standing by my side as I enter a new chapter of my life. Which is why I want my mama right there on my other side. Plus, lots of people hyphenate their last names nowadays. It doesn’t have to be this monstrous sexism fest you’re making it out to be.” You rolled your eyes and walked into the bathroom that was attached to your bedroom. Tom frowned when you shut the door. You usually left it open a crack when you did your morning skincare routine, but today, you were shutting him out. Tom got out of bed and walked into the bathroom to see you. You didn’t look up at him as you washed your face.

“Come on. Are you seriously mad because I dissed your rom coms?” Tom said as he put his hands on your hips and kissed your shoulder.

“I’m not mad about that.” You mumbled and brushed him off.

“Then what are you mad about, sour patch?” He teased and kissed your shoulder again.

“I’m mad because I’ve been getting my nails done weekly leading up to our five year anniversary just in case you proposed and you just told me that’s never even crossed your mind!” You exclaimed as hot tears of embarrassment brimmed your eyes. You stormed out of the bathroom and when Tom processed what you had said, he followed after you.

“I don’t believe in marriage, okay? I think it’s unnecessary. Why can’t we just live like this forever? What’s the difference?”

“The difference is pretty big. But I guess you don’t see it like that.” You shrugged and kept walking away from him.

“Can you honestly tell me what would be different between us if we signed a stupid piece of paper at the courthouse or didn’t?” Tom said as he put his hands on your shoulders to keep you in place for a second.

“The difference is I’d be your wife and not just the pathetic girlfriend who stayed even though you didn’t lock it down.” You raised your voice at him and pushed his hands off of you.

“So you only want to get married because you care what people think? How romantic.” Tom rolled his eyes at you.

“That’s not the only reason. I want to get married because it’s important to me. It’s a public commitment where we promise to love and protect each other forever. I want that.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t. I don’t need a ceremony to do that. I can promise you that right here.” Tom calmed down and took your hands.

“But that’s not special.” You sighed and withdrew your hands.

“If you don’t find that special then maybe you don’t love me as much as you think you do.” Tom said, immediately regretting it.

“What?” You whispered and looked into his eyes to see if he was serious.

“Look, darling, I’m sorry.” He said softly. “I just don’t see the point in marriage. I don’t need to prove I love you with a ring and wedding. I chose to love you every day. That’s enough for me.”

“What if it’s not enough for me?” You genuinely asked him as you wondered it for yourself.

“Then maybe you need to stop being so shallow and materialistic and ask yourself if you’re with me because you love me or because you want to play out some childhood fantasy that you saw in a stupid movie.” He shouted.

You both instantly got quiet. You were quiet for a very long time.

“I didn’t even mean that.”

“I don’t even care.” Your voice cracked as you grabbed your purse and slammed the front door behind you when you left.

“Is this one okay?” Harrison asked, pulling Tom out of his daydream. He replayed that fight over in his head about a dozen times a day. If his mind wasn’t occupied by something at all times, he’d perform an autopsy on that last conversation with you to try and understand what he should’ve done differently.

“What?” Tom asked without looking at his friend. He was too busy staring at the seat you always used to sit in at the kitchen counter.

“Can I use this one?” Harrison repeated and held up a muted purple mug as the tea kettle went off in the background. Tom tore his eyes away from your chair and when he saw the mug, all he could picture was your lipstick stain that used to stain it.

“That’s Y/n’s mug.” Tom said, descending a chill over the room. Harry and Sam’s attention was caught and they looked at Tom to see where this conversation was going.

“Oh. Sorry. I’ll put it back.” Harry said and quickly went to put it back in the cabinet.

“It’s fine. She’s not using it.” Tom shrugged. Everyone looked at each other as the awkwardness became palpable.

“How’s she’s doing?” Sam asked and sipped his tea to seem less interested than he really was.

“She’s good. Shes been recording some stuff at her New York studio. New music and whatnot.” Tom replied. He didn’t know this because you told him. He knew this because he’d been stalking your fanpages for every possible sighting of you.

“Have you guys talked lately?” Harry asked.

“Not really. Not since she left.” Tom admitted without looking up at his friends.

“You guys didn’t break up, did you?” Harrison asked, worsening the icy tension. Tom froze at the question for a minute and then shrugged. He didn’t really know what the answer was. In the weeks you’d been gone, you’d make small talk sometimes about work and the weather, but it never went beyond that. It was more to be polite. You kept in touch enough to know what the other was up to on a weekly basis, but you both knew you were dragging out something that had died. You wanted Tom to just say it was over already instead of pretending everything was normal, but he was never going to do that.

“I don’t know. We left things kinda up in the air.” Tom replied. The boys exchanged glances and Harrison nodded to let them know he was gonna take charge.

“Up in the air?” He questioned.

“Yep. Up in the air. Ambiguous. Vague. Open to interpretation. Call it what you want.” Tom shrugged again like it didn’t matter, but it did.

“Well what was the last thing you said to each other?” Harry wondered.

“She said she needed some space and was going to New York. And I said okay.” Tom recalled.

“What about before that?”

“I don’t know. We didn’t talk much in the days leading up to her leaving.” Tom replied and took a long sip of his tea.

“She didn’t speak to you?” Sam asked.

“She did.” Tom nodded. “Sometimes.”

“You didn’t speak to her?” Harrison asked, already knowing the answer.

“I didn’t have anything to say.” Tom shrugged. Nobody spoke a word, but all the boys were thinking the same thing. They knew how bad this was, and that it signaled the end of your relationship.

“What?” Tom asked when he noticed the shift in vibe.

“I’m just surprised.” Harrison shrugged. “You guys were never like this. I can’t even remember your last fight.”

“We didn’t fight. You can’t fight when you don’t speak.” Tom said with a sarcastic smile.

“You should call her.” Harry suggested. “It’s gonna be at least a week since she’s been there, right?”

“Four weeks.” Tom corrected without meeting anyone’s else.

“Mate, you gotta call her.” Harry said quietly and put his hand on Tom’s shoulder.

“I can’t.” Tom shook his head.

“Why not?”

“She can’t break up with me if I don’t talk to her. As long as we don’t have that conversation, we’ll still be together.”

“I’m not sure that’s how it works, Buddy.” Harrison said apologetically. Tom sucked in a sharp breath and looked at his friend with tears brimming his bloodshot eyes.

“I don’t know what else to do.” He said with a crack in his voice.

“Oh shit.” Sam said suddenly, getting everyone’s attention.

“What?” Tom asked.

“She’s dropping a song tonight. She just announced it.” Sam said and showed Tom your Twitter. Tom took Sam’s phone to read your announcement better. Sure enough, you had posted a picture of you dramatically lying across a piano bench with your left hand covering half of your face. You had a ring on every finger except for your ring finger, a detail that wasn’t lost on Tom. He handed Sam’s phone back and look at the floor.

“You didn’t know about this?” Sam asked, and Tom shook his head. He’d gone from being the first person you played every song for to finding out on Twitter that you had a song coming out.

“What’s it called?” Harrison wondered. Sam looked down at his phone to read the title and gulped.

“Who cares?” Sam forced a laugh and put his phone away.

“What’s it called?” Tom asked again.

“You Don’t Know Me Anymore.” Sam mumbled. Tom shut his eyes and hung his head in shame. He hadn’t even heard the song yet but knew it was going to be bad news.

“When does that come out?” He asked Sam.

“Midnight. Tonight.”

Tom’s friends stayed with him all day until midnight rolled around. At 11:58, Tom placed his laptop on the kitchen table and opened YouTube. He knew you always released lyric videos when you dropped a new song and he needed to reach every single world you said. When midnight came, he refreshed his screen and clicked on your video. The background image was a picture of you looking in a mirror with messy hair. You had digitally added sparkly, purple tears to run down the still image of your face. You played a couple notes on the piano before the lyrics appeared beside your face in your handwriting.

“I wish you’d just put me out of my misery

You already know I’m at your mercy

I don’t know why you’re dragging this out

You have all the power, if that’s what this is about

I’m not gonna be the one who walks away

So I need you to say what you want to say

I already know it’s over so just let it end

Please don’t give me the pity of asking to stay friends.”

“I don’t think we should be listening to this.” Sam said as he paused the video.

“Play it.” Tom demanded. Sam sighed and pressed play while the other exchanged looks.

“I’ve been feeling you leaving

I hate this part more than the ending

The moments leading up when I know your heart has changed

I don’t know why we keep pretending

If it’s done just say it’s done

Don’t just change your mind and not tell me

I already know so just let me go

Don’t just watch as I sit and bleed.”

“I don’t think-“ Sam began as he paused it again.

“Stop pausing it.” Tom cut him off. “Play it. I need to hear it.”

Sam pressed play again and Tom pulled the laptop over to himself so he could control it.

“Cause I cut my hand on that first crack in the glass

I feel the icy air between us when you pass me

So I took your chain off from around my neck

I’ll think of something else your initial can stand for

You don’t deserve to see me wearing it anyway

You don’t know me anymore.”

Tom didn’t realize he had started to cry until his tears his his keyboard. He couldn’t see the video anymore from his blurry his eyes had gotten. He wiped his face and leaned on his hands to give the song better attention.

“You know I would die for you in secret

Like that song I showed you in my car

I don’t think you even listened to it

You didn’t draw stars around my scars

You drew your arrow and let it fly

Right into my heart and let me die

Actually, I wish that was the curtesy you provided

Instead, you let this love become one sided

And now we’re shattered like a glass that was dropped

You broke my heart until the day that it stopped

You never got down on knee

Even when I crumbled onto both of mine

I wonder if you ever really wanted me

How did you think we were fine?

And at what part did you realize you liked the idea of me?

But who I actually am isn’t someone you wanted

I miss who I was before we met

Now I can’t go back, I’m haunted

And you were right not to marry me

If I could walk away from me too, I would

You were right to leave when you did

I know I would too if I could

But I’m stuck here with myself

Forever scratching and clawing at your door

Keep it all, even my memories

You’re lucky you don’t know me anymore.”

Everyone sat in silence once the song ended. Tom wiped his eyes again but tears just kept falling down his face.

“That probably wasn’t even about you.” Harrison said after a long beat of silence. Tom gave him a look before turning to his brothers.

“What do you think?” He asked Harry.

“It sounds like she’s hurting too.” Harry shrugged. “I think you’re both waiting for the other to say you’re broken up.”

“Well I’m not saying it.” Tom stated. “She has to.”

“And if she doesn’t?” Sam asked kindly.

“Then we don’t break up.”

“Again, I’m not really sure that’s how it works.”

“Well it’s what I’m going with. Because I can’t break up with her.” Tom sniffled and shut the laptop.

“But you can’t go on like this either.” Sam pointed out.

“She’ll come home when she’s ready.” Tom said, but no one in the room believed him.

And didn’t come home for a while.

After another week of silence, Tom flew to New York to see you. He got to your apartment and knocked on your door without any particular plan in mind. You opened it with a smile but when you saw who it was, you tensed up.

“Hi.” He said with a sad smile.

“If you came to to propose to me as some kind of grand gesture-“

“Please, let me talk.” He cut you off. You sighed and nodded as you leaned against your doorway.

“We have different opinions. But I don’t love or respect anyone more than you. So I am willing to hear your side, which is not something I did last time we spoke about this. I was just listening for what I could rebuttal against. I wasn’t actually listening to understand your thoughts and feelings. But I’m ready now.” He said. You nodded again and seemed to drop the wall that you had put up.

“It matters to me that we get married.” You told him. “I know you think it’s pointless and doesn’t change anything, but it changes things for me. If you picked out a ring, asked my parents permission, and got down on one knee, that would all make me feel special and loved. Those things matter to me in a relationship.”

“Okay. I’m sorry. I didn’t know that.”

“But now you do know so if you propose, I know you’re just gonna do it to appease me. I’ll always know that you think it’s stupid when I look at the ring.”

“I admit that it found it a little dumb in the past. But it matters to you. And nothing that matters to you can be stupid.”

“I can’t get married to you knowing you don’t really want it. It’s not fair to you and it’s not fair to me.” You said and went to close the door.

“But I can’t lose you. My thoughts on marriage literally do not matter to me in the slightest. If it’s important to you and if it is what it takes to make you feel special and loved, then I want it too.” Tom pleaded as he pushed your door back open.

“But you don’t want it. You just don’t want to break up.”

“I can put on a tux for a night and suffer through if it means that much to you.” He said with a slight laugh to lighten the mood. Your face changed and he had somehow made the situation worse.

“Suffer?” You asked quietly with a told of your head.

“I’m sorry. That was a poor choice of words. But darling, I’m saying we can get married. I’ll do whatever it is you want. Why do you still look so upset?”

“Because you don’t get it.” You shook your head. “And I’m afraid you never will.”

“What don’t I get? I don’t understand. I’m telling you I’ll give you what you want.”

“But you don’t want it too. That’s what I’m trying to say. It’s the principle, Tom. Remember how disappointed I was that one time when I said I wanted ice cream so we went to the shop but you didn’t get anything? I didn’t mean I wanted ice cream. I meant I wanted us to get ice cream together so we could eat it and spend time together. This is like that but times a million. You can’t compromise on marriage. You either believe in it or you don’t. So even if we did get married, it wouldn’t mean to you what it means to me. I would always think back to that conversation we had and remember how you really feel about marriage. I keep replaying all the things you said that day in my head. We both know how you feel about marriage and we both know it’s not something you want.”

“So that one conversation ruined it for you? Completely?” He asked.

“Yes, it did.” You answered truthfully. You stared at each other for a minute as both your eyes welled with tears. You both knew you’d reached a stalemate and there was nothing more to be done.

“So what do we do now?” Tom asked without looking at you.

“I love you. More than I’ve ever loved anyone.” You told him, making him perk up.

“So do I.” He smiled as tears rolled down his face.

“But what if that’s not enough?” You asked him. Tom froze and felt the situation escaping from him fast.

“We’ve been together almost 5 years, darling. That’s five birthdays, Christmas’s, anniversaries. You make up so much of my life. We’re exactly right for each other. It’s supposed to be you and me in the end. I can’t do this with anyone else.”

“And I can’t do this with you.” You laughed sadly and gestured to him. Tom’s heart dropped in his chest when it became apparent that this was more than just a fight.

“Are you breaking up with me?”

“I think I am.” You nodded. Neither of you could believe the words that were coming out of your mouth but it was too late to take them back.

“Does marriage really mean that much to you that you’d rather break up instead of just living a long, happy life together?” Tom asked you.

“I guess it does.” You realized. He stood there in shock as you put a hand on his shoulder and brought him closer to kiss his cheek.

“Goodbye, Tom.” You smiled sadly at him and shut your door.

Another month went by and you did not come home. You busied yourself with your music and dove into your next album, but that didn’t stop you from thinking about him on midnights when you were left alone with your thoughts. Tom thought about you a lot more often, like every time he saw your face on his TV. He tuned in one night to watch you debut your latest music video of your newest song. His eyes were glued to the TV as the video opened with your back to some brown eyed actor.

“You say “I don’t understand” and “I say I know you don’t.” We thought a cure would come through in time, now I fear it won’t.” You sang with your eyes glued to the floor. The setting changed and you were walking through an apartment that Tom recognized.

“She filmed this on Cornelia Street?” Tom whispered to himself and sat back on his couch.

“Remember lookin' at this room, we loved it 'cause of the light.” A smiling version of you sang as she walked though the apartment holding the hand of the actor playing Tom. The setting changed again and you were still in the room, but the lights were off and you were sitting alone in the floor.

“Now, I just sit in the dark and wonder if it's time.” You sang while not looking in the camera. The rest of the video followed in suit. You flashed between happy, golden hued memories with the actor to grey toned solo shots of you sitting alone at your piano or on the floor. The difference in the moods made Tom reminisce on the old times and he wondered how long it has been since he had made you smile the way you were doing in the video.

“Stop, you’re losing me. Stop, stop, stop. You’re losing me.” You sang while looking directly into the camera as a purple heart monitor line ran through the background behind you and eventually flatlined. Tom felt like you were staring right into his soul and realized this was the closest he’d gotten to making eye contact with you in a while. He watched the sad, grey version of yourself split from the happy version and suddenly, there were two of you on the screen while the actor playing Tom ignored them both.

“How long can we be a sad song till we were too far gone to bring back to life?” The both of you sang while Tom’s counterpart read the newspaper and didn’t look at either. He thought of the days leading up to you leaving for New York where he’d be doing exactly that, reading the newspaper to pretend to look busy when he felt you glaring at him. He wiped his face and watched as the scene changed to the three of you at a party. The sad version of you was clinging to Tom’s counterpart defensively while the other version of you yelled at him with a drink in your hand.

“Fighting in only your army. Front lines, don’t you ignore me. I’m the best thing as this party.” You yelled and drunkenly stumbled around while the rest of the party watched.

“You’re losing me.” The grey version whispered into Tom’s ear. He assumed that version represented the part of you that missed him while the other version represented the you that knew it was over. The scene changed again and this time, you were back in the Cornelia Street apartment with an open ring box in the center of the table. There was no ring inside, just a burning flame.

“And I wouldn’t marry me either. A pathological people pleaser.Who only wanted you to see her.” You said into the camera while Tom’s character threw things into a bag behind you and went to leave.

“And I’m fading thinking do something babe! Say something! Lose something, babe. Risk something. You’re losing me! Chose something, babe. I got nothing to believe unless you’re choosing me.” The grey version of you desperately said to Tom’s counterpart as she pulled on his arm to beg him to stay. It was like he couldn’t see her at all and just kept walking towards the door. The golden version of yourself opened the door and pointed for him to get out while the other version of you jumped in front of him and dropped to her knees to get him to stay. Tom’s character walked right through her and she faded to dust, leaving just the one version of yourself to watch him go. The music stopped and you ended up running after him, but he was already gone. You turned and ran down Cornelia Street but didn’t go back into your apartment. You just kept running down the street and turned the block so that the camera couldn’t see you anymore. The camera panned out to show the Cornelia Street sign and a violin version of your song by the same name played in the background as the street sign turned grey and faded into dust. The screen turned black and Tom was left alone in the silence.

After another month, he found himself outside your door again. He knocked on it and felt his heart pound until you opened it up.

“Tom? What are you doing here?”

“I’m here for you. I came to fix this.” He said simply.

“Tom, I don’t know that we can fix this.” You said apologetically. It felt amazing to see him, but it didn’t change the fact that you ultimately wanted different things in life.

“You were right. You can’t compromise on marriage. And you either believe in it or you don’t.” He began before getting down on one knee.

“Tom?” You asked skeptically as your eyes went wide. He pulled a ring box out of his pocket and opened it up for you.

“It’s your moms ring. Your dad gave it to her for the third Valentine’s Day they celebrated together in college. She doesn’t wear it anymore because it’s one size too small, so she gave it to me when I asked them for permission to marry you.”

“You asked them?” You smiled in surprise that he had done one of the things you said mattered to you.

“I did. It was a little awkward to find out your mother already knew all about our previous conversations about marriage so you can probably guess how confused I was.” He said with an embarrassed laugh.

“What did my dad say?”

“He said as long as I make you happy, he’s proud to have me join the family.”

“See? No one’s giving me away to anyone. We’re just creating a bigger family for the two of us.”

“I see that now. I see a lot of the points you made. And what your dad said got me thinking.”

“About?”

“All I want is to make you happy. Which is different from agreeing to things I don’t want to do to appease you. I do want to watch you walk down the aisle in a dress that’s been in your Pinterest board since you were 13. I do want to plan the seating arrangement and introduce my weird friends from college to your weird friends from college. I want to plan the entire thing because that’s something we can do together, and those are my favorite things to do.”

“What about the ceremony? And the marriage license? You don’t want those things.”

“I didn’t at first.” He admitted. “But after actually thinking about it and reevaluating the opinion I formed before I ever even had a serious relationship, I realized I feel differently. You make me feel differently. I would proudly sign my name next to yours on a marriage license. Because I happen to think our names look pretty good together. And as for the ceremony, I know we can’t compromise, but we can collaborate. It doesn’t have to be a huge blowout party. It can be the best elements of the both of us. And we can plan it together.”

“That all sounds very lovely, but it doesn’t change the fact that you didn’t believe in marriage just a few months ago. Am I really supposed to believe you’ve truly changed your mind? What if this is just some grand gesture to win me back that you end up regretting?” You asked him.

“I will never end up regretting promising my love for you in front of our family and friends. I’ll never regret hyphenating our names so that everyone knows I’m a part of a duo. I’ll never regret choosing to legally attach myself to my vets friend and spend the rest of my life with her. But I can tell you with the utmost assurance that I would regret letting you walk away and become a name I wince at for the rest of my life.”

“You felt differently not too long ago.” You quietly reminded him. You wanted so badly to believe him, but you couldn’t fully trust it.

“I changed my mind. I realized somethings are more important than other things. And that you’re more important than anything.”

Your skeptical expression turned into a coy smile as you slid your hand into the one that wasn’t holding the open ring box.

“You never actually said the words.” You told him, making Tom break into a relieved smile.

“Darling, would you make me the happiest man-“

“Eh. Try again. Too cliche.” You cut him off. Tom smiled and shook his head, knowing you weren’t gonna make it easy.

“My love, I don’t want to spend another minute as just your boyfriend.” He tried again.

“Lame. Thumbs down.” You shook your head and pointed your thumb down.

“Would you do me the honor-“

“Yawn.” You interrupted.

“Will you just marry me, you annoying brat?” Tom groaned.

“Tom! I thought you’d never ask!” You gushed over dramatically and put your hand over your heart.

“Is that a yes?” Tom asked as he stood up.

“I have to think about it. I don’t know if marriage is for me.” You shrugged as he slid the ring onto your finger. You looked down at the ring and remembered the time you tried it on as a little girl and how it didn’t fit your finger until now.

“Yes. I will marry you.” You smiled as you looked back up at Tom. Tom broke into a grin and scooped you up to spin you around.

“Sorry I wrote all those emo songs about you.” You said into his ear, making him laugh.

“It’s okay. It’s what you do.” He couldn’t stop smiling as he set you down. He then pulled you in for a long kiss to make up for all the time you were apart. When you pulled away, he pulled your face back towards him with his hands to kiss your left cheek.

“I see you.” He said, then kissed you right cheek.

“I choose you.” He continued, then kissed your forehead.

“I love you.” He said, the kissed your nose before looking into your eyes.

“And I know you.” He told you. You smiled softly and nodded your head.

“You do?” You asked him. “You really know me?”

“I do.”

Tag List 🏷️

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@maybemona @alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom @xo-spidey

[cherrycheridarling]

slip up | t.h.

tom holland x famous!reader

warnings: none just fluff

summary: tom slips up on instagram live

wc: 335

a/n: missed u guys sorry abt my absence:(<3

"That's a wrap for today! Go rest those vocal cords, Y/L/N." Toby, your producer bid you a farewell as you finished in the studio.

You nodded and hugged everyone goodbye before heading to your driver's car. It was at least midnight by the time you got back to your boyfriend's home that he shared with his best mates.

You and Tom had been dating for nearly a year and had done an impressive job of keeping your relationship away from prying eyes. With only a few suspicions here and there, the public saw you two as best friends and nothing more.

In his king sized bed, Tom was on Instagram live chatting with his fans. He needed a way to pass the time as he waited for you to come home from the studio.

"Why am I up so late? Jet lag sucks, guys." Tom lied to his fans.

He hasn't been on a plane in weeks.

"Is anyone in the house awake? Nope. They all sleep at, like, eleven or earlier. Party poopers." he frowned to the camera.

You quietly unlocked the front door, trying your best to not wake anyone in the house. Tiptoeing towards Tom's bedroom, you saw that his light was on, peeking out from under his door. With furrowed eyebrows you opened the door and saw him sitting against the headboard on his phone.

He smiled when he saw you, completely forgetting about his live, "Hi, darling. I missed you," he put his phone down and pecked your lips, "Did you get driven here?" you nodded, "You should've sent me a text," he picked up his phone and glanced at the screen, "I could've—" he froze.

You finished tying your hair up and looked at him with confusion written across your features. You opened your mouth to ask him what was wrong before he slapped a hand over your lips.

He looked at you with wide eyes, "I'm live on Instagram." he whispered.

You had to choke down a laugh because you knew the fans would recognize the sound immediately. You managed to peak at the screen without being in the cameras view and the comments had you struggling to keep your laughter down.

'HE HAS A GF???????'

'i'm gonna kms'

'WHO IS IT'

'no fucking way'

'PLS BE ZENDAYA'

'IM HYPERVENTILATING'

Tom opened and closed his mouth like a fish as he tried to come up with something, anything, to say. "Um, looks like I'll be going now. Thank you for joining and I'll see you all very soon." He had a sheepish grin as he spoke.

You smirked before speaking. "Bye guys." And pressed the button to end the live. Not waiting to see the reactions to your voice or if they would recognize it.

Tom wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you on top of him, "Cheeky one, you are." he placed a kiss on your forehead as you smiled into his chest.

[tater-tots-thoughts]

Summary: You and Tom made a bet over who would be the first to break and touch or kiss the other, but when you have a panic attack mid-day, Tom is more than willing to be a loser just to help you.

Warnings: Panic attacks, swearing

Stupid idea, you think bitterly as you take your aggression out on your keyboard, typing a furious response to your coworker as a pounding headache behind your eyes nearly brings you to tears from staring at the screen for too long. Today you and Tom had the terrible idea of seeing who could last longer without touching the other, and quite honestly, you were prepared to deal with Tom’s gloating and smirk just about now. You wished for nothing more than his comfort as you struggled with your uncooperative superiors and boss. Today, there had been a huge website crash, and you were struggling to help get it up and running again before you lost major sales and shipments. You sighed as you sent your last email, confirming that you’d spoken to a big client and cleared up the issue, assuring them everything would be up and running shortly.

Sighing again, you stood up to stretch. This was the most stressed you’d felt in weeks, and Tom could sense it too. Sitting back down, you refocused and worked for several more hours before you heard Tom knock on your door.

“Come in,” you called hoarsely.

He walked in with a steaming cup of tea in hand and a small smile. He set it next to your computer.

“Milk and honey, just how you like it.”

You smiled at him, appreciating his small thoughtful gesture, though just looking at him made you feel like your emotions were about to boil over any second.

“Ready to give in yet, love?” he teased, smiling at you. He had no idea of your situation at work since you barely had time to even use the bathroom. He’d assumed locking yourself in your study would be a more effective way of refraining from him. Though now he could sense your mood—obviously stressed and exhausted. His smile faltered.

“Everything okay?” he asked slowly, concern in his eyes, hands clasped before him.

You shook your head, feeling the awful sting and knot in your throat as tears began to brim in your eyes.

“Whoa, whoa,” he said, hurrying over to your side, the bet now long forgotten as he fell to his knees by your chair and wrapped his arms around you.

You could barely breathe, let alone explain everything that had happened. All the anxiety, dread, and anger seemed to be controlling your body as it constricted your lungs. The world spun around you, but not in the slight swaying way it does when you’re a little dizzy—it was in a way that made you feel sick if you opened your eyes. You had no idea how long you sat there. The only thing you were trying to feel and focus on was Tom’s voice and his hands cradling your back and head as he rocked you gently.

When you opened your eyes again, the world wasn’t spinning. You were on the floor now, awkwardly but not uncomfortably cradled into Tom’s chest. He was still talking, coaxing and calming you from your attack, his hand stroking your hair comfortingly. After five or so minutes, you could feel your breath falling back to normal, though Tom held you as tightly as ever. You pulled away to wipe tears from under your eyes.

“Sorry,” you choked out.

“Hey, what did I say about that?” Tom said firmly. “Don’t apologize for things that make you upset. I mean, what even happened? Was it me? If it was me, I didn’t mean it, I swear. I am so sorry.”

You shook your head. “No, no, not you. Definitely not you. Just… work. The website crashed, and everything kind of went to hell.”

“Oh, hon,” he sympathized, pulling you close to place a kiss on your head.

You were now lying in bed. With the help of your team, the website was back up and running. All that needed to happen now was shipping to get the information, but that wasn’t your department, and so none of your concern.

“You lose, by the way,” you said, smiling teasingly.

“Mm?”

“You touched me first.”

“Oh, yeah, that,” Tom said nonchalantly. “I won’t hold you to the fifty bucks, though, ‘cause I guess you did kind of need my help.”

He chuckled along with you and poked you in the side. You giggled and pushed his hand away.

“I’d lose for you any day.”

You rolled your eyes and laughed. “You’re so corny.”

[ifortom]

Shrike - T.H.

Pairing: Royal Guard!Tom x Princess!Reader

Summary: A princess and a royal guard live a forbidden romance, hiding their feelings from the world. As they try to keep their love a secret, challenges and moral dilemmas test the strength of their relationship. Will true love triumph over conventions and royal expectations?

W/A: 5k

A/N: I know it's been a while and I'm about to post other stories but this one popped into my head and I had to get it out. Hope you like it.

"Do you ever think about what life would be like for us if things were different?"

"Honestly?" He stares at you. "No. Despite everything, I'm satisfied with what we have."

He mocks. "You mean doing everything in secret? Not being able to touch you in public? Or going out on dates? Not being able to talk about you with others?"

"I meant having our most intimate moments just for the two of us. Memories that will be ours alone." You say, intertwining your fingers with his. "Don't you find dates in the garden under the moonlight extremely romantic?"

"It would be if I weren't worrying about what might happen if they found out."

You move closer and settle into his lap, legs around his waist.

"Tommy, can we enjoy what we are experiencing now? At this moment I only see you and me. No one else."

His hands go to your waist, holding you close, while yours run through his hair.

"I can't imagine myself without you." He says with his mouth next to yours, breaths mixing and becoming one.

"Then don't." Slowly, you start moving your body, his hands on your waist guiding your movements. "I'm right here." And your mouths collide as you push him until he is lying completely on the blanket in the grass.

Your mouth travels to his neck, leaving marks along the way. Your hands now unbutton each button on his shirt. You feel his heavy breathing, his heart racing.

And you get lost in each other.

..............

"Why that face, mate? You seem too happy. What happened?" Harrison asked as they walked side by side to the meeting room.

"Nothing happened, what are you saying?"

"Nothing? Come on, Tom. We're heading toward a scolding for not keeping full guard time and you've got a smile on your face."

"No, I don't."

"Are you kidding me? I've known you since you were in diapers, you can't hide much from me" He snapped his fingers. "I bet you were with someone. Did you get laid?"

"Shut up, Haz."

"Ha! So that's it! Who was it? Who had the displeasure of spending the night with you?"

"Harisson…"

"Who was it? What was she like? Was it good?"

"Mate!”

"Or was she bad, that's why you don't want to talk? Did you go all the way?"

"For the love of God, Harrison, shut the fuck up." Tom stopped abruptly.

Harrison raised his arms in surrender.

"Tommy boy... I see you sneaking out at night, not to mention the times you ask me to change shifts." He rubs one of his hands over his face. "And I give you all my support but I would like to know why you have been risking your job, you know?"

Tom looked to the side, clenching his jaw.

"You're my friend, and I'm glad you seem happier too. I'm sorry I asked."

"I can't talk about it.” Tom says in a barely audible whisper. "I just…I can't."

"OK no problem." Harrison says turning his back to Tom and continuing down the path.

"Haz, I really can't, I'm sorry." Tom said following him.

"You don't have to apologize, Tom. And you don't even owe me an excuse. You do your thing and you tell me when you're ready. Just… be careful."

“It's not just about me. There’s other people… and I…”

"Gentlemen!" Tom and Harrison stopped and bowed before the queen's presence. “Why are they still here? The king is waiting for you."

"We are on our way, Your Majesty." Tom said.

"You will be part of a very special moment, but I will let the king do the honors of the news." She says, clasping her hands in front of her body. "Now go, we'll be there in a few minutes too."

And at that moment, Tom notices the presence of another person besides the queen and her faithful lady.

It was very rare for you not to express any kind of reaction to his presence. Tom was always greeted with a tempting look and a small smile. Carefully so that no one would notice that this small gesture meant more than just a small, polite greeting.

And Tom knew you well enough to understand that you weren't okay. Something serious happened or was about to happen that worried you.

Tom and Harrison bowed as the queen led the way towards the grand doors of the castle's main hall. You followed your mother's footsteps slowly, the two guards, the king's confidants, followed close behind.

Several thoughts were floating through his head at that moment. Did you regret it? Why did you go so far? Why did he get carried away so easily?

He should have stopped.

He should have stopped the moment you started seeing each other in secret. He should have stopped before the first kiss.

He should have stopped when he realized his feelings were bigger than just attraction. He should have stopped before realizing he loved you.

The hall doors opened for them. The king was sitting in one of the resting chairs in the center of the room. The small coffee table contained cups that released hot steam, two bodies rose from the padded sofa that surrounded it.

It was funny to think that this same environment could host more than a hundred people dancing and twirling in fancy clothes, and now it looked like any other room where people gathered to gossip and discuss mundane matters.

"Finally, my ladies. We have waited long for you." The king said stretching out his hand, calling the ladies to come closer to them. Tom and Harrison stopped a few feet away from the center, as did the queen's lady-in-waiting who stood between them.

"We're sorry, My King. We were just finishing getting ready. Y/N needed to prepare properly." The queen said, resting her hands on your back and positioning you in front.

"Not that it's really necessary. The princess is very beautiful." A sweet, unfamiliar female voice said as she bowed to Y/N who returned the gesture. The man next to the woman did the same. "It's a pleasure to meet you Your Highness."

The king finally looked beyond the two most beloved ladies of his court.

"Behold, my faithful squires. Come closer." The two guards approached and bowed before the king and his guests. "These are the lord and lady of Wintershire."

"Your Majesty!"

"These are Harrison and Thomas. They are my two best guards and accompany me in everything related to the kingdom." The king looked thoughtful and melancholy. "Thomas is the son of the great Holland. My best friend and the greatest of my warriors."

"Of course, I'm sorry for your loss." The unknown man said and Tom just nodded.

"It was such a loss, we all miss him." The king continued, his gaze fixed on Tom. "I'm glad Thomas followed in his father's footsteps, after all he grew up here and knows this place like no one else."

"We are grateful for your service, Thomas. You and Harrison are important at this time." The queen said.

"Good, now that everyone is here we can move on." The king announced, as Thomas and Harrison returned to where they were before, you and your mother sat down next to the family matriarch. You were facing him and Tom noticed your resistance to meeting his eyes, not even for a small second.

"Not everyone, Chris isn't here yet. I apologize for that, Your Majesty." The lord said.

"Don't worry, he was in the barn, getting to know his surroundings. I heard he's great at riding." The king pointed.

"Ah, yes! Our little Chris is almost like an athlete. He likes to play sports and ride. We raised him to be active as well as being very intelligent and helpful." The woman said.

"I'm sure he'll make a great husband." The queen said, resting her hands on yours that were in your lap. "A good man capable of taking care of a woman, who likes to take risks and is intelligent."

The world seemed to have stopped and Tom's breathing became quick and shallow. His hands, which were behind his back, wrapped around each other in an attempt to stabilize himself to what he had just heard. Husband. That was what this special moment was all about. A marriage agreement.

"I'm sure Chris will make the princess very happy. He's young and good. He still has a lot of life ahead of him." The man said. "I know we're his parents, but we raised him for this."

This means that this marriage agreement had existed for a long time. Even before anything starts between you. You had always been promised to someone and yet you surrendered to Tom and the fantasy you created together.

Tom’s eyes were fixed on you and your posture. But you refused to look up from your own hands.

"Of course, we believe so. But it is important that we know that this agreement is also political. Y/N in a few years will take the throne and we need a companion who will support her." The king interfered. "This is for the good of the kingdom."

"Yes, Your Majesty. We believe in the future of the kingdom just as we believe in Your Highness and the decisions she will make."

"It's important that they have heirs. The lineage needs to continue. We are happy to have been gifted with our sweet Y/N but the ideal is more than two children." The queen said and once again, Tom's heart screamed asking to be ripped out of his chest so he wouldn't feel anything anymore.

"Chris is a healthy young man and has regular medical care, I believe this will not be a problem." The lord said.

You, who hadn't said anything until now, finally slowly looked up. Your eyes focused on Tom and he noticed the sadness within them.

“I’m happy for what we’re going to build.” You said, looking at the couple sitting in front of you. "For the kingdom…"

The hall doors opened again and a man walked towards them.

"I'm sorry I'm late, I got a little lost on the way." He said as he bowed and sat down next to the couple.

"I'm glad you decided to join us." The king said using a sterner tone, one that Tom had heard many times.

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty. The castle is very beautiful and large, I got lost while looking at the paintings in the corridors."

"Let's stop it from happening again." The queen intervened. "I think we can end it here. Y/N, why don't you take Christopher to see our indoor garden?"

"That's a great idea. Harrison will accompany you." Tom didn't understand why the king didn't order him to come along but he wouldn't argue about it. Mainly due to the fact that he wasn't sure he could take a step without falling.

Christopher stood up and extended his hand towards you, which you delicately accepted. You walked to the door together, passing Tom. Harrison following you a few feet away.

The king got up, and walked to where Tom was.

"You're dismissed for today, Thomas. I want you to rest." He said resting his hand on Tom's arm.

And in that moment, Tom realized that the king knew. He knew something was going on between one of his guards and his sweet, delicate daughter.

And he was sorry for what had just happened. What he caused. Both to his own daughter and to the young man he had seen grow up to be a man.

Without a word, Tom turned and left the room. He knew how disrespectful the gesture had been, but nothing was going through his mind at that moment.

It was stupid to think that at some point your relationship would become real. Real to the world. Not just hidden and in the dark.

He knew the fantasy would come to an end, but now it all seemed so real.

He doesn't remember the path he took to his quarters. Tom let it be taken on automatic. The years spent in that same place and the route traveled so many times were already engraved in his memory.

Tom let himself take a deep breath when he was in his comfort space. His own room. A bad idea because everything inside reminded him of you.

From the sheets on the bed you've rolled around in together so many times to the desk in the corner with scribbled pieces of paper and books waiting to be finished.

Just like in his heart, you were present in any physical place he looked.

...

Your steps were silent and light. The floor was cold in direct contact with your bare feet. You never walked through this wing of the castle without telling Tom that you were on your way.

He always made sure the hallways were empty and no one accidentally bumped into you.

But the situation required a drastic measure and you hadn't seen Tom since the conversation in the main hall. It was not possible to communicate with him at any time during the day. And a lot needed to be said and clarified between you.

When you arrive in front of the familiar door, you hesitate. Your hand rises and closes into a fist, ready to make Tom aware of your presence.

Slowly, your hand comes into contact with the wood. Two beats with a long interval between them. He will know it's you.

It was long seconds or what felt like minutes before the door finally opened. Tom was already ready for bed. The white t-shirt and pants made it clear. He looked at you and his cold expression scared you. Despite his red, puffy eyes, Tom seemed expressionless.

"Your Highness, you shouldn't be here at this time." He said and the royal title he used startled you even more.

"I know I shouldn't come unannounced but… I haven't seen you since." You replied with a low voice.

"Want me to take you back to your quarters?" Tom rested his hands on the doorframe and looked around the hallway.

"What…no! I, Tom…we need to talk. I need you to listen to me."

"Your highness, please, it's late. You can't be here alone, and you need to warm up." He ran his eyes over your body covered in a thin coat that only covered your arms, your legs exposed.

"Stop saying that!" You cut him off.

"What?"

"Your Highness." You mocked.

"It's your title. It's what you are."

"No! You call me by my name, it's always been that way. Stop it." You answered. "Tom, please." You pleaded.

He let out a breath and entered the room again, leaving the door open for you to follow. You closed it and leaned back against it. Just like you had done so many times before, the only difference was that he wasn't the one pressing you against it. There was no heat, passion or lust. It was fear. Fear kept you away from him.

"Tom…I, I'm so sorry."

He clicked his tongue, letting out a sound of disapproval.

“What are you sorry about, Y/N?” The way he said your name gave you goosebumps.

"I didn't know…that they were coming today. Nor that my father planned for you to be there."

"So you're sorry I found out?"

"What? No! You think I wouldn't tell you? How could I keep this from you?" You spoke as you approached him.

"Well, you hid it Y/N. How long have you been promised to him? How long have you known about it? That he was coming?" He looked at you in disbelief, the pain in his eyes that filled with tears. "It felt like it was already done before you were even born."

"It wasn't certain that it would happen, my parents hadn't talked about it for a long time. And I thought they had given up, that I could choose what I want."

"You're so innocent, Y/N. Look at the world we live in! You know that would never happen. You don't seem to remember the stories they told us as kids." He laughed. "Don't you remember the exiled princess because she decided to follow her own path without following the rules?"

"That's just a story."

"It doesn't matter, Y/N. You have a duty to fulfill, for the kingdom. For what your ancestors built. Just as I have a duty to my father and everything he did for me. You have a kingdom to rule. And I have a queen to protect." He laughed mockingly, every word spoken filled with venom. Tom needed to push you away, for both of your sakes. "That's who we are, nothing more. You need to carry heirs. You need to live a long, happy life. With a partner and a big family."

Every word was a stab in your heart. You never thought about the possibility of heirs that weren't yours and Tom's. There is no one who could be the father of your children other than him.

And the thought of seeing you carrying another man's children destroyed Tom.

"No! Tom, stop!" Your hands went to your hair, tears running down your face without stopping. "Please."

"What hurts me is that you kept this from me… Y/N, we've been at this for years. You knew everything. Is this fair to me?"

Tom's hard, hurt look and the tears that started to roll down his face broke your heart even more. He walked towards you as you took steps back. Until you feel the surface of the table full of books.

Tom's face stopped inches from yours.

"Why did you do this to me? Why did you make me fall in love with you? While you knew this ending was inevitable?" His hand went up to your hair, touching it lightly. "Why did you let me touch you in ways no one else has?"

"Tommy…" You whispered, your hands held his white shirt tightly, as if you didn't want to let go. "I didn't mean to hurt you, you know that!"

"To be honest I knew it would end at some point, I knew I could never have you forever." You closed your eyes. "But I didn't think it would hurt this much, Y/N."

Tom's face got closer and closer to yours. His face wet with tears. His lips barely touched yours, his eyes locked on yours.

"You need to go rest, Your Highness. It's been a busy day." And with that he walked away completely, walking and creating a distance between you beyond the physical. It was Tom putting an end to everything you had lived together and everything you ever thought about planning.

"Tommy, no! Stop! I'm going to fix this, I'm going to fix everything. They're going to listen to me. I'm not going to marry someone else." You say between sobs. "I love you, Thomas. You're the one who matters to me."

Tom closed his eyes tightly upon hearing your confession. Finally hearing what he had wanted for years.

And you waited for his response but nothing came out. Tom continued looking at you without showing any reaction.

"I will escort you to your quarters, Your Highness." And his cold tone made you realize it was the end. He wouldn't give in anymore. He accepted that there was no other alternative to your relationship.

Tom wouldn't be able to continue a secret romantic relationship with you even if you begged. And he knew you wouldn't do that. How could he continue knowing that in the end, only the other man would be recognized as your partner? He couldn't handle knowing that you would kiss, sleep and live with someone else.

You are not a difficult person to like. A sweet and caring personality, full of life and smiles despite the difficulties faced. Tom knows that just spending a short time with you would make anyone fall in love, especially if you opened up and showed your true self. Not just the future queen of the court, with diplomatic thinking. But that side of you that is still maturing, along with teenage jokes and dreams.

Tom knows your potential, and he knows that you will become a brilliant queen. He knows that the future of the kingdom will be in good hands when the time comes.

He just hopes that the person next to you is able to take care of you in your most vulnerable moments. May he listen to you and support you, just as he tried and did several times during all these years.

Tom understands how aware you are of your role in this story. He knows that you will walk to triumph and that this moment is just heartbreak. But you will overcome. You were born for this.

You took a deep breath, seeking back your composure and that appearance of a person raised in a court.

"It's not necessary. I can go alone."

You walked quickly to the door but before opening it you turned and faced Tom once again.

"I just want you to know that I was willing to try. I was ready to face whatever it took to achieve what I want. I thought you knew me well enough to understand that."

Again, Tom said nothing. He just nodded and stared at the floor.

You turned around and opened the door, and to your surprise, another familiar guard was about to knock on wood. Harrison was startled by the abrupt manner that the door had been opened and his eyes widened as he realized what was happening.

The princess with red eyes and a wet face, in the middle of the night, wearing only a robe that covered her arms and in a guard's room.

His mouth opened and closed, as if he was trying to say something but couldn't form a sentence that made sense.

With no time for manners, you just took a step forward and Harrison understood that he needed to get out of the way. He gave you space to the side and you left Tom's quarters like a breeze, quick and light.

Harrison watched your form until you disappeared into one of the hallways. He looked into the room and saw his best friend with his posture hunched over and his eyes fixed on the floor.

And the pieces of the puzzle finally fell into place.

...

Two months had passed since the fateful day of the end. You and Tom only crossed paths sometimes and he accompanied your family when something needed to be resolved politically. Until now, Tom's work was focused on meeting the king's needs, but he knew that would change once you ascended the throne.

Nothing more was said between you. Unless it was something related to the kingdom. Tom realized that there was no longer any type of relationship between you that was not strictly related to the role that each played within the court.

He noticed how close you and Chris had become. Your future husband had come to spend some time at the palace so that he could begin to get used to it and understand how everything worked. You spent a lot of time together and Chris really wasn't a bad person. Despite always wanting to be pleasant, he has already imposed himself on some of your decisions and demonstrated relevant opinions.

And you weren't offended by his words. Maybe sharing the burden of the crown with someone who understood these difficulties wouldn't be so bad.

The wedding would take place in 6 months, and the entire palace was already preparing for the big event. Menus were being chosen, as were the flowers and fabrics that would be used in the decoration.

Surprisingly, you felt fine. The days were always full and you always experienced something or met someone new that made you forget your heartbreak. Tom was your first love and everything you experienced will always be alive in your heart, but you could survive it.

Tom was at the entrance to the castle, watching the different groups of guards preparing to take up their posts when he heard his name called.

"Hello, Thomas!"

He turned around and found Chris, with his black hair and tanned skin.

"Sir." Tom bowed.

"It's a beautiful day, isn't it?" He stopped next to Tom and stared at the landscape. "I like this place, despite all the movement every day."

"You'll get used to it." Tom laughed softly.

Tom didn't harbor any resentment toward Christopher. He understands very well that it was not his choice. Neither of you had any choice in what you were living through now and he wouldn't blame anyone for his broken heart.

"I heard that… the king told me… that you will be going to Solastria." Chris hesitated.

Solastria was nothing more than court territory. It was a good few miles away from the palace and was the place where new guards were recruited and trained.

Tom decided that this would be his role in the story.

He would be responsible for introducing new guards to the palace. Strong and strategic warriors ready to defend the kingdom and the person he cared most about.

Tom can't deny that he's happy for you. Even though you seem fine, he knows that you have your moments and that it hasn't been easy for you. He notices this in the difficulty you have in maintaining a simple conversation with him or having minimal eye contact.

But you've been doing well. Both in the diplomatic tasks that the king has gradually passed on to you and in more personal matters such as marriage. He knew you could do it.

"Yes, I will be leaving in two days. They demanded my presence there."

"I bet the reason is because you're one of the best warriors around here." Chris laughed.

"They tend to fill my ego like that."

"Well, it's a shame you're leaving. I think I could learn a lot from you. But I understand! And I wish you luck." Chris said, resting a hand on Tom's shoulder.

"Thank you for that."

"But I have to ask…does she know?" Tom quickly turned to Chris. "The princess…does she know you’re leaving?"

Tom tried to look clueless. But Chris just laughed softly.

"She told me… about you. Strange isn't it? But what you don't know, Thomas, is that Y/N and I have known each other for a long time and have kept in touch." He took a deep breath. "She's my friend. A dear friend. I trust her and she trusts me."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interfere in your relationship." Tom responded defensively, facing the courtyard again.

"It's not about that. We are fulfilling a duty, we were taught that way. Y/N is not the only one who was forced to abandon her dreams and plans for a perfect future." Chris swallowed hard. "I also left things behind, people. And I said goodbye to them. I ended a cycle. And I kept the memories."

Tom felt his eyes burn, but he wouldn't let the tears come down. Not in front of a stranger.

"I will do everything to make Y/N happy. Or at least to make her feel less alone. Whatever is in my power and whatever she allows me."

"Thank you. I appreciate it." Tom said, voice barely above a whisper.

"Make the right decision, Thomas. Don't wait to regret it later." Chris said and turned around walking away from Tom.

...

"What is your greatest desire?" You asked him as you rested on his bare chest.

"Hmm…" Tom pretended to think. "I want to defeat an ogre."

You clicked your tongue, laughing and patting his chest.

"I'm serious, Tommy!"

"I'm serious. Can you imagine? Captain Holland defeats a disgusting and grotesque ogre that was trying to ravage a small village within the kingdom's boundaries. I bet it would be a success"

"Oh yeah? And who do you intend to impress with an act of courage like that?"

"I don't know. Maybe the knights would respect me more… you know, stop asking me what I do to be so good." You laughed.

"You're very cocky, you know that?"

"Or else, I would impress beautiful maidens in search of true love with a charming warrior."

You feigned surprise after his words.

"So me being naked under your covers means nothing to you?"

"But you know what they say, maybe everything I needed most is right under my nose. So there's only one person I want to impress." He said as he squeezed your waist with one hand while the other supported his head from behind.

"You convinced me." The two of you laughed together.

Your fingers trailed down his exposed chest.

“My biggest wish is to do this forever.”

"Sweetheart, unfortunately our bodies have limits that need to be respected. But we can work around that with a few water breaks."

"Oh Thomas! Stop it." You propped yourself up on one elbow, your face now inches from his. "I meant you and me, together. Regardless of form and place. You are my greatest desire and a life by your side is my dream."

He smiled and placed one of his hands behind your head, pulling you close and finally finding your lips.

"Let's think about it tomorrow, okay? Right now it's just you and me." He said when he disconnected your lips.

Tom watched the palace doors close after he left, feeling like this would be the last time he would see this image.

He didn't say goodbye. He wouldn't have the courage to see your reaction when he told you that he was leaving and that there was nothing more to be done in that place.

Life in the palace was beautiful. He lived, learned and loved. And he wanted to keep the memories of this place untouched. Only the beautiful would be remembered, not the pain and sadness.

Tom would love you for eternity and even though he couldn't prove it by being by your side, he decided that he would continue to protect you, even from afar. Just as he swore to his father that he would follow in his footsteps and take care of the kingdom, he also made a promise to himself.

That would prevent any danger from crossing the border of that kingdom and no harm would come to the place you loved so much.

And you would be happy.

[oldiesstationlover11607]

Bullies - Peter Parker x fem!reader

Pairing: Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

Warnings: None! Super fluffy <3

Word Count:

Description: Peter comforts reader after a hard day at school. It can be any Peter btw but I imagined it as Tom :)

Peter knew things at school weren’t good. They never had been. I had six weeks left before I graduated and we’d been counting down the days together, despite being at different schools. Peter was the smart scientific boy who I’d met at the library and I was the music obsessed girl who was brutally bullied for who I was. I’d been shoved up against a locker before my English class by Carson, the boy who was committed to ruining my life. I had banged my head badly and was sent to the nurse’s office after passing out in the lesson. My mom had been called and I was sent home. After watching a couple episodes of (your favorite tv show), there was a sharp knock at my window. Spider Boy. Peter. I stumbled out of bed to unlock and open the window so he could come inside. 

“What are you doing in bed?” he asked, crawling in next to me. I rubbed my eyes, hoping the throbbing sensation would stop. 

“I came home from school early. Had a headache,” I muttered. He knew full well I never got headaches, which was reflected by the conflicted look on his face. 

“Tell me the truth y/n, why are you in bed at 3:00?” I tried to figure out a decent lie but had absolutely nothing. Maybe I’d fallen down some stairs, maybe I’d accidentally broken my nose in dodgeball. He wouldn’t believe that, he knew I never showed up to phys ed. 

“Remember how I told you about Carson?”

“Oh so that’s why you currently have a black eye and a half,” he seethed. Well guess that answered the question of whether I looked as bad as I felt. “Are we going to talk about it?”

“I’d rather not,” I responded, cuddling closer to him. His arm was around my shoulders, body turned into mine.

“Did he hurt you?” Of course he hurt me. No one else would’ve done this to me. 

“I just said I don’t want to talk about it,” I looked up into his glowing brown eyes, not able to tell if he was worried or raging. 

“Fine, we don’t have to talk about it. But just know Spiderman is going to have a very stern conversation with Mr Carson,” Peter spoke with severe clarity, “he’s not going to hurt you again y/n.” I knew he meant what he had said. We sat there in silence while my computer continued to play (your favorite tv show). He watched the episode with me, occasionally asking questions so he could catch up. Once the episode ended I turned off my computer and put some music on. 

“How was school today Pete?” I asked. School was much easier for him, his teachers actually cared, he had his friends MJ and Ned, and he didn’t need to study to get an A. 

“Not too bad, we’re just getting ready for finals and prepping grad stuff, y’know,” he explained. I nodded, excited for the short period of time we had left before college. 

“What time do you have to get home?” Aunt May always knew Peter was at my house, but she had standards, especially knowing Peter was Spiderman, and a high schooler. 

“Like 10:30, we’ve got time,” he pressed a kiss to my temples and ran his fingers through my hair. I could feel the tension in the air, I wanted so desperately to cry over the day, over how much pain I was in. 

“I’m going to hurt you y/n. I’m going to hurt you as much as I can. And once school is out I’m going to fucking kill you,” Carson had whispered into my ear as he pressed me into the lockers. I could still feel the padlock being pressed into my back. My eyes started to water and a few tears slipped onto Peter’s shirt. 

“Hey, hey, are you okay?” He sat up and held me back so he could get a proper look at my face. I shook my head, letting the floodgates slip.

“H-he told me he was going to kill me Peter. I can’t go back there,” I sobbed. He pulled me in close, his forehead resting against mine. 

“He won’t lay another hand on you ever again. I mean it y/n.” I could feel the tension in his body. 

“You promise?” I cupped his jaw, my fingers resting behind his ear. 

“I promise. I’ve got you.”

//

Please submit any requests y'all have! I love to write so let me know if you've got any!

@urmykindofwoman let me know if you like this! I haven't written to Peter in a wee bit

[sabrinasopposite]

the end of the world

tom holland x reader ♡

two lovers that reached the end of the relationship.

she was sunshine and he was midnight rain

It was clear from the beginning that two lost souls would find their way in the Milky Way. It was evident that the pair of chocolate-brown eyes would be fixed on the girl's, whose eyes were filled with teardrops sparkling like stars.

Love seemed to dissipate from their presence, replaced by hurt and pain that gnawed at their insides instead of the butterflies that once fluttered around them on the nights they met. The birds ceased their songs on their favorite Saturdays, and their tea tasted as dull as their shared kisses.

Young love is often portrayed in movies as pure innocence, building upon their emotions and the desire to understand their hearts, but they rarely depict the harsh realities of the real world. In reality, it marked the end for them.

Their love is lost in the air, not be founded in their hearts that were stringed. 

Y/N always thought their love will be like Amy’s and Laurie’s, or like Elizabeth’s and Mr Darcy’s. An undeniable love that was stronger than their words. Yet, perhaps these were words she was too blinded to perceive, or maybe they were simply absent, unheard by her ears. 

Tom always believed that their love was pure, strong, and transcendent, beyond the reach of the stars. He struggled to find words to capture the intense emotions that surged within him whenever he laid eyes on the girl of his dreams, the embodiment of the perfect world he envisioned.

However, he gradually came to realize that this was merely a fantasy, detached from the reality in which he found himself trapped.

It was one of those rainy nights in London when the city's sparks were veiled by raindrops. Y/N always found herself reflected in the rain; she adored the scent it carried and the melodic patter it painted upon the earth. It was one of those nights when she would coax Tom outside onto the streets, where they'd listen to their favorite 60s playlist and dance in the rain—a silly cliché that they held dear to their hearts. 

However, tonight was the end of their world.

Their soaked clothes clung to their chilled bodies, as not only did the world darken around them and the raindrops fall heavier and heavier, but so too did their hearts. What was once a yellow world now turned blue.

"Why do you have to let me go, Y/N? I don’t understand!" Tom cried out, his words aimed at Y/N, whose eyes reflected the rain. "I know, and I will be forever grateful for everything you've given me," she replied. "But we'll only continue to hurt each other if we stay together." Y/N licked her lips, which once tasted like Tom's, but now bore the bitter tang of salt and regret.

"I would give up everything just to be with you. I-I'm sorry for my absence, but this new life—the acting career—it's all so overwhelming for me, and you know it.“ Tom’s eyes were shining of hope and desperate need of Y/N’s warmth.

Some things remained unchanged, but as soon as Tom became the golden boy of Hollywood, his life transitioned from its former purity into one illuminated by the spotlight. The stage was now his domain, his face adorning posters, TV/cinema screens, and magazines. He was everywhere.

Y/N remained grateful and supportive of his acting career, finally seeing him recognized as the talented young man who once dreamed of playing Billy Elliot or auditioning for Romeo multiple times.

He was now acknowledged by the world, although he had always been seen by her.

His world.

Yet, as with every fairy tale, not every story concludes with a happily ever after, where the princess and the prince marry. Just like Y/N and Tom..

He changed. He was still Tom Holland, but he wasn't the same Tom. Y/N saw it coming but chose to ignore the spotlight, waiting backstage for him. But he remained in the center of the stage, basking in the attention and affection of the crowd.

Y/N, once the midnight rain, found herself overshadowed by Tom's sunshine. But tonight, as their world comes to an end, their roles reverse.

"It's not that you're physically absent, Tom, here in London or beside me. It's that I can't seem to find you anymore. We're living in different worlds now, and there's no room for me in yours. I wish I could express this differently or see things from a different perspective, but..."

Her gaze met his, witnessing his tears mingling with the rain, his trembling not just from the cold, but from the pain. She knew that saying goodbye would only make it harder.

"Please, don't say that... Sweetheart, I can change. I'll change. I'll be the same person I was before, I promise!" His hands tightened around hers, afraid to let go.

"I will always love you, Tom, but I have to let you go. Not just for your sake, but for mine too. It's time for both of us to find our paths again."

She stepped closer, delicately brushing her hand against his cheek, her lips meeting his for the last time.

Perhaps not forever, but for now.

And as she walked away, Tom didn't realize it was the end of their world.

It ended when she whispered, "Goodbye."

this story is very much inspired by the song: the end of the world by skeeter davis.

I hope u like this angst! ♡

[deathbyathousandspiders]

“ cuddle–bugs. ,,

(( REQUEST FINAL PART. ))

mcu!peter parker x reader.

!!! read parts one | two | three | four here !!!

IN WHICH — the avengers wouldn’t let you and your best friend live down cuddling on the couch, but after an intense mission, you realized confessing to him was the only thing left to do.

✨masterlist✨.

2.1k.

Peter woke up suddenly, gasping, cold. Cold and unsettled, with heavy breath and urgency. He woke up recalling that Bucky made him leave you in the medical wing, knowing that he needed to get sleep. He remembered just how much he resisted, just how much he wanted to stay by your side. But the team knew he needed to rest just as much as you did. Still, he woke up knowing damn well that he needed to make sure you were alright.

Were you alright?

The question sent a splintering shiver down his spine, giving him only more motive to toss off his covers and get out of bed.

Stumbling to his feet, Peter fully fathomed just how much of a blur the past few days had been. He had nearly forgotten about how teasing Sam and the team had been, or just how nervous he was that his best friend was slipping through his fingers. He was practically in denial that the two of you hadn’t been on speaking terms before this mission.

Now, Peter was nervous for other reasons that you were slipping through his fingers.

Bruce had discovered just how lethal this winter–kissed poison was in the midst of you being unconscious. He’d said that the antidote wasn’t entirely stable yet, either. But it was between giving the antidote to you raw, or risking that your bloodstream freeze overnight. Either choice was a gamble.

So when Peter came across your empty bed in the infirmary, he was met with a sigh of relief. Still, he was restless as ever. He wouldn’t ease until he knew you were okay. Until he saw you for himself.

He peeled his head through the neckline of his crewneck, shaking off the chill of December as he walked. He paced down the empty early morning halls of the compound, each step quicker than the last as he searched for you. It wasn’t long before he found you, seated on the couch in the meeting room. The two of you met eyes immediately.

“What are you doing awake?” Both of you asked in unison, equally concerned for the other.

You stood from the couch, slow and sickly. You watched Peter as he stood beside you, arms carefully corralling around you in case you were to topple over. He seemed more focused on you than answering the question at hand. So, you answered first. “It was getting stuffy in there. I couldn’t sleep.”

Taking in Peter, you could tell he at least got a little bit of sleep. His curls spouted in eight different directions and his body still radiated the warmth of his covers. Despite how much his eyes studied you, they looked weighted by the ghosts of slumber. You could tell he was fighting them off. His presence was a lot more alert than anticipated for someone who’d just gotten shut–eye.

“Peter, why aren’t you sleeping?” Your voice came out gentle, eyes tracing him with worry. You, too, disregarded just how bitter the taste of his name had been for the past day. You’d forgotten that he said what he did, and quite frankly, you didn’t care anymore. Death seemed more hefty than a mere misunderstanding.

He blinked away the remainder of slumber, his body weight drawing closer to you. Perhaps it was the thickness of night, or just how dark the room was, but you could see just how little the space was between you. Inches kept you apart, but your warmth kept drawing the two of you together.

“I had to make sure you were okay.” Peter replied, his tone soft and sincere. He went to grab your shoulders, but he found himself tensing a bit at the contact. His eyes glanced down your body before catching your stare again. “You’re still cold..” His voice came out barely above a whisper just before tracing his hands down your arms slowly and cupping them around your own. He never broke eye contact as he breathed into them, trying to warm you up as best as he could.

The effort didn’t really change much about your condition, but the thought of it did warm your heart with how sweet it was. Then and there, through the dark, you swore you could see it. You could’ve sworn that he looked at you with admiration. You swore he looked at you lovingly. It was a look that shoved away every insecurity you had. The look reminded you of the vow you had made yourself the night before.

Taking a breath, you bit back your nervousness. “Peter, I need to tell you something.” Your voice almost came out a mere breath, but you could still hear the fragile nature of your tone.

The look Peter caught in his eye gave you the courage to keep going. “Yeah, anything.” His voice was so earnest, you could’ve kissed him right there.

However, you didn’t. The race of your heart and the shakiness coating your throat were already too much to handle. You swallowed your pride, needing to rip the bandaid off.

“Peter.” You took a beat, glancing from either of his eyes to try and gage his reaction. “I love you.”

And there, he smiled. Peter smiled at you in a way you wish you had photographed. He let out a small chuckle, squeezing your hands in his. “I love you too.”

You realized of course. Of course, Peter loved you. The two of you were best friends, and had been for as long as you could remember. Of course he loved you. And you did love him platonically, too. That just made all the more difference now to make sure he understood what you meant.

A smile touched your lips, letting out a gentle laugh. “Right. And I love you for that.” You started, “But I–” The words got caught in your teeth, hesitating. “The thing is, uh–” Should you even tell him? Was the friendship worth risking? Well, fuck, the words were already halfway out of your mouth. “Well, the difference is..” You made sure to breathe, “I’m kind of, sort of, a little in love with you.”

A shift. The air changed, and you felt it. You watched as Peter’s expression shifted, his eyes widening and his posture straightening out. All you felt inside was a scolding rush of panic. Watching the way his lips parted, you startled, just knowing that he was going to reject you.

So you kept talking.

“– And I don’t want it to change anything in the friendship!” Shit, you were talking fast. “In fact, if you don’t feel the same, that’s fine! Just don’t say anything and I’ll be on my way and we can just forget about everything in the morning!”

Peter squeezed his hands around yours again, his lips curling. “Y/N, I–”

You kept going.

“And—And with Harley–” You laughed a little, “God, I’m so sorry.” Head shaking, body quaking, panic still running rampant; you couldn’t think. “I just got so hurt that you didn’t want to kiss me, and I think I just wanted to make you jealous? But it’s stupid. You shouldn’t have to kiss me, or force yourself to, and sure as hell you shouldn’t get forced into a mission just to—”

Nerves had clouded your senses as you spewed off explanations, so much so that you hadn’t noticed just how close Peter got to you. You weren’t sure whether it was the feeling of Peter tracing his hands back up your arms that cut you off, or the feeling of his palms cupping your face. You stared up at him, scanning his face for any hint or look of detest or rejection.

What you found was the opposite. His hands cradled your jaw carefully, and Peter looked at you like the words he heard were ones taken right from his tongue. He looked at you with genuine wholeheartedness, and it made you feel like there was nowhere else you would rather be than right there in his touch.

“I do want to kiss you.” The words were so smooth, you swore he’d rehearsed it. It made your cheeks flush, not only because you were flattered, but it also felt a bit humiliating to have kept rambling when he could’ve just said so.

You stared at him, eyes widening for a second. “Oh.” Was all you could muster, quickly captured by the sight of his lips so close to yours. Perhaps, it was Peter who leaned in to close the gap, but you felt so eager to kiss him that you couldn’t keep track.

Kissing. You and Peter Parker were actually kissing. Finally. It was all smiles and sincerity and sickly sweetness. Hands around his body, holding each other close, it was absolutely beyond everything you could’ve dreamt for. It was perfect.

Peter broke back from the kiss, looking at you with a grin that said everything you wanted to. You both shared the same feeling, and it was wonderful.

“The thought I was planning to tell Sam the other day was that I didn’t want the whole team watching the first time we kissed.” His words immediately warmed your heart, and made you feel a little foolish for not hearing him out sooner. “I didn’t want our first kiss to have an audience.”

“It’s a little too late for that.”

The voice startled you so bad, you stared out at the figure like a deer in headlights– Well, it wasn’t exactly headlights, more than shuttered flash from a cellphone camera.

Shit.

Blinded from the light for a second, it didn’t take you more than a second to recognize the voice as Sam, and to notice that he was accompanied by someone. You heard Bucky chuckle beside him, looking at the photo. “That’s a good one.” He stated, “I’m making that my lockscreen.”

You and Peter held each other, in the dark, both looking out at Sam and Bucky. You both took the moment to catch your startled breaths.

“As much as I’m happy for you two love birds, could y’all keep it down?” Sam kept his voice quiet, yet still had a stern tone to it. “It’s three in the morning.”

“Yes sir!” Peter spat out quickly.

Sam and Bucky left soon after, both saying hushed goodnights before heading off to their rooms. You and Peter shared a silent laugh before Peter took your hand and guided you back to his room where the two of you could sleep. Together.

Which brought you to Christmas morning.

The entire team sat around the meeting room, opening gifts and sipping hot beverages. They were all gleeful and filled with gratitude. It felt so peaceful and warming to be a part of the Avengers. Which made it all the more conflicting when Sam handed out his gifts for you to open.

You held the large boxy gift in your hand, unsure whether to feel nervous or not to open it in front of the team. Still, when everyone else started to open their presents, you felt a bit left out.

Once the wrapping paper tore off your gift, you saw the photo Sam took of you and Peter in the thick of night, clinging to each other and staring at the camera in shock and surprise. The photo made you laugh, giggling to yourself as you read the post–it note stuck to the bottom.

‘Glad I could help you out ;)’

You fought back an eye roll before Peter called out to you across the circle.

He smiled at you, “Y/N, you gotta see this!” Peter gestured to the box on his lap. Curious, and mirroring his smile, you stood from your seat and walked over.

Confusion met your face when you saw that the small box was empty. “What exactly am I looking at?” Meeting his stare, you noticed the hand he stretched up above you, holding a piece of mistletoe overtop of the two of you. You didn’t even take a second before leaning down and kissing him, not caring who was paying mine to you.

You could hear some audible reactions from the group, some encouraging, and one annoyed and childish grimace from a little ways away.

“You and your cuddle–bug boyfriend need to get a room.” Bucky spoke with distaste. You and Peter both stretched your arms out to flip him off, kissing just a little more to get on his nerves.

“Shut the hell up, Bucky!” Sam responded back. You could feel the way that Peter smiled from the comment, laughing quietly.

Sam was right. He’s definitely invited to the wedding.

tag–list: @helen-on-earth @ellebutnotwoods @hufflepuff-n-fluff @petersparkerss @tommysfrog @zelzablues @mavex @thatmarvelchick19 @parkersmaterialgirl @justtuesdays @coralineyouareinterribledanger @abucketofweird @thievin-stealing @hawkinsavclub1983

[p3terparker]

𝗽𝘂𝘁 𝗶𝘁 𝗼𝗻 𝗺𝘆 𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗱 - 𝗽𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗿

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: peter and you argue because he loves to spend all of his money on you.

𝘄/𝗰: 0.5k

𝗮/𝗻: sorry for disappearing for a few months… again 😭 i am slowly getting back into writing so please bear with me! i saw my last fic reached over 9000 notes so that really motivated me to write something else for you guys ♡ i’m not so sure how i feel about this but i really do see peter as the type of boyfriend to blow all of his paycheck on you so i just had to write this LOL anyways i hope you all enjoy this!!

“put it on my card” you suddenly hear peter say as he pulled your earphones out, causing you to jump.

you were trying to keep yourself awake while waiting for peter to come through your window after patrolling for the night. to keep yourself occupied, you decided to listen to music and do some online shopping (which consisted of you just putting things in your cart but never actually buying anything). with your back facing your window and your earphones in, you didn’t see or hear peter come inside.

“jesus christ peter, don’t sneak up on me like that!”

“yeah yeah whatever” he says not really caring that he nearly scared the life out of you. “as i was saying before you rudely snapped at me, put your order on my card”

“i literally have over $400 worth of clothes in my cart”

“and?”

“what do you mean and? that’s expensive”

“your point?”

“that’s more than half of your paycheck”

“doesn’t matter. the whole reason why i have a job is to spoil you” he says while taking off his suit and getting comfortable in your bed.

“aww pete, you’re too sweet. but still, no. i don’t want you spending that much money on me”

he hummed an okay which led you to believe he was gonna just drop the conversation.

you were so wrong.

before you know it, he’s shooting a web at your laptop and dragging it over to him.

“NOOOO!” you scream dramatically and tackle him on your bed before he can type in his card information.

“LET ME BUY YOU CLOTHES!” he screams back while trying to push you off of him so he can grab your laptop again.

you quickly snatched your laptop from the bed and ran out of your room as fast as you could.

“GET BACK HERE!” peter shouted while chasing after you to which you just ignored and kept running away.

“you know what, you leave me no choice” he abruptly stops chasing you which causes you to stop in confusion.

suddenly, he jumped and stuck to your roof with his webs, and webbed your laptop over to him. you literally had no way of getting to him now.

“that’s no fair, you’re cheating!” you whined.

he laughed at you standing helplessly below him and finally placed your $450 order on his card.

“here you go” he smiled and jumped down from the roof, handing your laptop back over to you.

before you were about to scold him for spending so much money on you, you heard a knock at your door.

you and peter both looked at each other confused because you weren’t expecting anybody for the night. he walked to the door and opened, revealing the people you were least expecting.

the police.

“hello, we were called over here for a noise complaint. your neighbors reported screaming being heard from your apartment room and they were concerned. is everything alright?”

you did not expect to end your night by explaining to the police that you and your boyfriend were screaming over buying clothes.

[im-sleepdeprived]

Your page says requests are open, so I'm sorry if I missed something 🙏🏻 Could you possibly do Peter Parker (preferably TASM) and friend reader who has a pet jumping spider that she named after him (bc she's crushing bad)? I think it would be funny if she didn't know he was Spider-man. ❤️

this is actually the cutest thing ever i loved writing this😭 hope you enjoy the little blurb !! no warnings just tooth rotting fluff and some deep, deep pining !!

“Look!” You exclaimed, holding up a see-through container filled with dirt, grass, and twigs, housing your newly acquired pet.

Peter leaned down to peer into it. “He’s adorable.”

You beamed. “I know right!” You’d always had a fascination for critters, but especially arachnids. Hence the tiny jumping spider in your hands right now. Peter found it precious when you rambled on about your love for spiders, not knowing that your very best friend (and long time admirer) was, in part, one. He always felt a little special. 

He knew it was stupid, you were never talking about him. Hell, you had no clue he was Spider-Man. But still. Usually everyone was freaked out about spiders, people hated them, even him (before the bite) and yet you managed to see the beauty in them. What other people found gross and freaky you found intriguing. 

You’d been over the moon this past week since you found out there were jumping spiders finally available  (he never would’ve guessed it, but apparently they were popular pets) at your local reptile store, (you were also adamant about not getting one from a big chain store). 

“I named him after you,” you admitted a little bashfully.

“Oh?” Peter could feel his heart speed up. Maybe his secret wasn’t as well protected as he thought it was. 

“His eyes, see?” You moved the container closer to him and placed your index finger on it, tapping gently. “He’s got those two big ones in the front and these ones on the side.” More tapping from your finger. “He reminded me of you when you wear glasses,” you giggled sweetly.

Peter felt his heart soar. “Yeah?” He smiled wide. “Well I’ve gotta say I’m honored, I know how long you’ve wanted one.”

“Yeah,” you beamed. You always appreciated that Peter let you ramble on about your favorite things, no matter how weird they were. You knew it was an unconventional interest, and yet he never made you feel different or odd they were. It only made you fall that much more in love with him. 

“Did you know that the males perform special dances for the females to get them to mate with them?”

You side-eyed Peter, impressed with his knowledge. Usually you were the one hitting him with random facts. “No, actually, I didn’t know that. Could you imagine if humans did that?” You laughed.

“Well isn’t that whats going online these days? With all those dance trends and ‘thirst traps’.” He made quotation marks with his fingers on that last part, making you laugh again.

“I wonder if Spider-Man does that,” you pondered. 

“What do you mean?” Peter’s brows furrowed. 

“I mean, isn’t he part spider or something? That’s how he can climb walls and stuff, right? And isn’t it why his name is literally Spider-Man. I just wonder how many spider traits he actually possesses.”

“Not the webs, the webs are artificial.” He answered you simply, eyes going wide when he noted the curious look you gave him. “Oh! I mean—I think I heard it—READ IT! Yeah,” he cleared his throat, “I read it somewhere.” Everyday it was getting harder and harder to keep this secret from you. 

“Okay weirdo,” you chuckled. “It was between you and him.” You said suddenly.

“Me and who?” Peter asked. 

“You and Spider-Man,” you said as if it made all the sense in the world. You tapped the small box in your hands again. “I almost named little Petey here Spider-Man cause I thought it was cute.”

Peter crossed his arms and smirked at you. “Really?” He thought it was the sweetest thing he’d ever heard. If you weren’t careful, he was going to pull out his suit right now and tell you everything. Well, either that or kiss the living daylights out of you. He reallyyy wanted that last one to happen. “And why didn’t you?”

“Well Spider-Man great and all, don’t get me wrong, saving the city and all,” you made a gesture with your hands, “but you’re my best friend Pete. Of course I’d pick you.”

Peter stood shocked. Honestly, he didn’t deserve you and all your kindness. Everyone loved Spider-Man, no one really cared about Peter. No one but you apparently.

“Now,” you grinned wickedly, “wanna take Peter 2.0 out the box and see how far he can jump?”

He scoffed, “Can’t believe you even have to ask sweetheart.”

“Great,” you handed him the container,” you go first. I wanna get a picture of you and your name twin!”

Peter laughed sweetly and looked down at his ‘name twin’ lounging leisurely on his little twig. Slowly, Peter lifted the lid and placed his finger beside Peter 2.0, allowing the spider, about the size of his fingernail, to crawl onto the tip of his finger. 

He slowly lifted his wrist out the box and looked over to where you stood, camera in hand, grinning wide. “I took your camera, hope that’s okay.” You said sweetly. 

“Yeah, it fine.” he wanted to tell you you could anything of his you wanted.

“Cool,” you held the camera up and positioned the viewfinder so it was in front of your eye. “Okay…Smile in 1…2…” you squealed. 

Peter hadn’t noticed, too busy ogling at you and how beautiful you looked using his camera like that, but your jumping spider had, well….jumped. 

“Peter!” You yelled. 

“Me or him?”

You burst into giggles, Peter (human) following suit. 

[cruel-seduction]

Midnight Encounters

Content Warning:

* Blood (minor injury)

* Mildly intense situations

Summary : You thought a midnight snack might cure your insomnia. Instead, you find a masked stranger injured and raiding your pantry. One odd kiss and a few strange confessions later, you’re left questioning what just happened—and if he’ll show up in your kitchen again.

Glimpse - “Do you, um…” he starts, glancing at your kitchen cabinets, “have any… Band-Aids?”

You stare, incredulous, still gripping the countertop in a weird mix of shock and bewilderment. “You’re Spider-Man. I thought you were supposed to be, like, invincible.”

“Apparently not,” he mumbles, looking down with a dramatic sigh. “Turns out, I’m just human enough to still need a Band-Aid every now and then.”

(Picture taken from pinterest)

You shuffle into your dark kitchen, rubbing your eyes and hoping that a mug of chamomile tea might finally bring some sleep. It’s 2 a.m., and the quiet hum of your apartment is a small comfort on this otherwise restless night.

But as you turn on the kitchen light, your heart nearly stops.

A figure, dressed head-to-toe in black and red, sits on your floor. He’s wearing a Spider-Man suit—the Spider-Man suit, complete with the mask—and he’s holding a spoonful of Nutella, chocolate smudged on the white eye lenses. A dark smear trails down the side of his masked head, and you realize with a jolt that it’s blood. He’s been injured.

“I can explain,” he says quickly, as though realizing how insane this all looks.

You stare, stunned, gripping the countertop as your mind races through every logical reaction: scream, run, maybe even call the police. But you’re frozen, your brain failing to compute why Spider-Man, a masked stranger, is sitting on your kitchen floor eating Nutella—Nutella you don’t even own.

After a beat of silence, he clears his throat, though the spoon remains poised mid-air. “Actually, no, I can’t.”

You glance at the jar, realizing with bewilderment that it isn’t even yours. “You… you brought your own Nutella?”

“Well… yes?” He shifts awkwardly, spoon still in hand. “It was an emergency.”

The absurdity hits you at once, and despite the fear bubbling up in your chest, you raise an eyebrow. “So, you break into my apartment… at 2 a.m., bleeding all over my floor, just to eat—your Nutella?”

The masked eyes widen in shock as he sets the jar down. “Whoa, no—no.” He waves his hands in defense. “That’s not—Look, I didn’t mean to break in.” He hesitates, sounding oddly defensive, like he’s scrambling to explain himself without making it worse. “It’s just—I was out there, chasing some guys, and things went south. And I saw your fire escape and… I needed a break.”

His head tilts up to face you fully, white lenses narrowing as if gauging your reaction. He shifts, trying to tuck a torn edge of his suit further behind him, but you’re still too stunned to speak.

“Do you, um…” he starts, glancing at your kitchen cabinets, “have any… Band-Aids?”

You stare, incredulous, still gripping the countertop in a weird mix of shock and bewilderment. “You’re Spider-Man. I thought you were supposed to be, like, invincible.”

“Apparently not,” he mumbles, looking down with a dramatic sigh. “Turns out, I’m just human enough to still need a Band-Aid every now and then.”

For a few seconds, you consider calling the police or just grabbing a frying pan, but something stops you. Maybe it’s the slight slump in his shoulders or the way he mutters about bad timing. Whatever it is, you reach into your cabinet, pulling out the first aid kit and holding it out, staying cautiously a few steps away.

“Thank you,” he says, sounding almost surprised.

As he fumbles with the bandages, you slowly sink to the floor across from him, careful to keep your distance. “So… you’re just gonna patch yourself up here? With my first aid kit?”

“I’ll leave you some web fluid as payment, if you want,” he says, voice muffled as he tears open a bandage.

It’s utterly bizarre, watching Spider-Man—the Spider-Man—clumsily patch himself up on your kitchen floor, trying to look like this is normal.

“You know, breaking into random kitchens is… probably not in the superhero handbook,” you say, the words slipping out before you can stop yourself.

He chuckles, sounding as surprised by it as you are. “I’ll make a note of that. Avoid random kitchens.” He glances at you, a bit more cautious, and adds, “You’re taking this a lot better than I’d expect, by the way.”

“Oh, I’m freaking out,” you reply, though you feel your own defensiveness slip a little. “I’m just too tired to run screaming into the street right now.”

For a moment, he’s quiet, the only sound the soft crinkling of bandages and the faint hum of the fridge. But when he speaks again, his voice is almost shy. “Thank you for… you know, not throwing me out.”

You can only manage a small nod, realizing that the man beneath the mask—whoever he is—seems like someone who hasn’t had many moments of kindness like this. In the gentle light, you share a moment of quiet understanding, two strangers who just happened to meet in the strangest of ways.

Spider-Man fumbles with the bandages, his movements uncharacteristically clumsy. He finishes securing a Band-Aid to his temple and mumbles a quiet “thanks” as he lowers his hands to his lap, looking oddly bashful for someone who spends his nights swinging across skyscrapers.

For a few moments, you sit in silence, staring at the floor, wondering if you’ll wake up from this fever dream. But the soft glow of your kitchen light and the distant sound of city traffic outside make it all feel surprisingly real. And he’s sitting right there, masked and bruised, shoulders slightly slouched, as if the weight of the night has finally caught up with him.

Finally, you clear your throat, breaking the silence. “So… you do this often?”

He looks up, those wide white lenses shifting slightly in a way that somehow communicates a sheepish grin. “Not exactly. Usually, I just…” He pauses, tapping his fingers on his knees. “You know, avoid breaking into people’s kitchens.”

You raise an eyebrow, managing a smirk despite yourself. “So, is Nutella an essential part of the Spider-Man toolkit?”

There’s a muffled laugh from beneath the mask, soft and genuine. “Don’t knock it. Chocolate is a top-tier snack when you’re exhausted. Which…” He gestures vaguely to his bloodied suit, “…happens more than you’d think.”

The two of you lapse into silence again, the surreal nature of it all slowly sinking in. But there’s something else in the air too, a kind of mutual understanding that feels strangely… comforting.

Spider-Man shifts, glancing toward the window. “I should go. Before you change your mind about calling the police.”

You laugh, and it surprises you both. “I guess it would be hard to explain why Spider-Man was eating Nutella on my floor.”

He snorts, moving to stand. “Let’s keep that between us, then.”

But before he can fully rise, something stops you. Maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you—through the mask, yes, but there’s a gentleness there, a warmth that you didn’t expect. Or maybe it’s the fact that tonight feels like a moment outside of time, a brief connection with someone who risks everything for strangers every day, yet somehow ended up needing you tonight.

Before you can second-guess yourself, you reach out, gently catching his hand. “Wait.”

He pauses, tilting his head in curiosity as he glances down at where your fingers brush against his glove. Without thinking it through, you lean forward, pressing a soft kiss to the side of his masked cheek.

“Thank you for protecting the city,” you say quietly, your voice barely more than a whisper. “And… for trusting me. Even if it’s just for a minute.”

You see him stiffen for a second, as though the gesture has completely caught him off guard. Then, his shoulders relax, and he lowers his head, the hint of a smile somehow visible even through the mask.

“Thank you,” he replies softly, voice tinged with genuine warmth. “For not freaking out. And for, you know… the Nutella.”

You laugh again, and it’s then that he gives your hand a gentle squeeze before pulling away, moving toward the window.

“Take care of yourself, Spider-Man,” you say, a soft ache already building in your chest as he reaches the fire escape.

He pauses on the ledge, glancing back at you, his white eye lenses narrowing in a kind of gentle, playful expression. “Sweet dreams. And hey—maybe next time, I’ll bring peanut butter.”

Then, in one fluid movement, he’s gone, disappearing into the night, leaving you alone in your dim kitchen, with a half-eaten jar of Nutella and the lingering warmth of an unexpected kiss.

[waitimcomingtoo]

Meatballs! At the Unspecified Celebratory Event

Pairing: Tom Holland x ex!reader

Synopsis: you and Tom see each other at a family event for the first time since your breakup

Masterlist

“Thanks so much for having me. It’s good to see you again.”

“Of course. You know you’re always welcome. Now go grab some meatballs. I made them myself.” Sam said and squeezed your arm. You smiled in return before going over to the food table.

You put a few meatballs into your plate and mingled in the crowd with friends of the family that you hadn’t seen in a while. You heard someone being greeted by several people as they came in and looked up out of curiosity. Thats when you and Tom made eye contact. You quickly looked away and turned your body while you prayed that he hadn’t seen you. He had, of course, and was immediately making his way over to you.

“Hey.” Tom said when he finally got to you.

“Your mom told me to come.” You said at the same time. You then both apologized at the same time for cutting the other off.

“Oh. Sorry. You first.” Tom said and gestured to you.

“Sorry. Your mom told me to come.” You quickly explained. “I told her it would be too weird now that we’re broken up and everything but she insisted. Plus, I wanted to support Sam.”

“It’s okay. I’m really glad you’re here. I’m happy to see you.” Tom said sincerely. You smiled awkwardly and looked around the crowd to avoid eye contact. Tom looked around the crowd as well and briefly wondered that the purpose of the gathering was. The awkward silence went on for so long that it became palpable and you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Look, Tom, I really never would’ve shown up like this if I knew you were gonna be here. I’d hate to make things awkward. But Harry told me it was safe to come. I thought you were filming in LA?” You asked and felt yourself cringing over how much you were over explaining your presence.

“I am. I have the weekend off so I came to support Sam.” Tom answered and felt disappointed now that he knew you hadn’t come just to see him.

“Oh. That’s nice. I love LA. It’s so…hot.” You faked another smile and looked away. Tom felt the conversation falling flat but was desperate to keep talking to you.

“So, uh, you still keep in touch with mum?” He asked you.

“Yeah, yeah. Not that much, though. She checks in on me and I do the same.”

“That’s nice. And I’m guessing you still talk to Harry since he told you I was filming?” He asked and looked over at Harry who had conveniently never mentioned that he was still in contact with you.

“Oh, yeah. Him too.” You laughed nervously. “We were good friends so, yeah. He and I still talk.”

“And you came to support Sam. Who must’ve sent you an invite. To your new place. Since you moved out.” Tom realized with a tight smile.

“He actually didn’t send it to my new place. He gave me an invite the last time I was over his place, so…” You trailed off when you realized your attempt to make him feel better was probably just making things worse.

“Which was…” Tom asked.

“Oh, a couple weeks ago. He had me and Paddy over to try some new recipe. It wasn’t anything serious.” You explained and tried to make it sound as uneventful as possible.

“I see. So you’re still talking to the whole family. Everyone but me.” He said with a tight smile. You could see the sadness in his eyes now that he had learned this information and wished you hadn’t said anything.

“Yeah. Sorry. It felt wrong to just cut ties completely. It’s not like I broke up with them.” You laughed awkwardly.

“Right. Just me.” He returned the laugh and sounded just as awkward. An uncomfortable silence fell between you for a long time now that you had run out of things to say. You made brief eye contact with him and quickly looked away as you scanned the party for something to talk about.

“I haven’t talked to your dad since the breakup, if that helps.” You said finally.

“It helps a little.” Tom shrugged.

“Oh, good, it does?”

“Not really.” He admitted. “Nothing does.”

“Yeah. Me either.” You shrugged and took a long sip of your drink. Tom’s eyebrows went up in surprise to hear that you were struggling just as much.

“Really?” He asked quietly. You looked into his eyes and debated telling him just how much you missed him. You ultimately decided against it since it wasn’t the time or place to have that conversation.

“The food was really good, wasn’t it? I loved the meatballs.” You asked to change the subject. You had no idea how to make small talk with someone you used to have a life with.

“Yeah. So good. Sam’s great.” Tom nodded in agreement even though he hadn’t tried any food yet.

“So great.” You echoed. You both hated the faking niceties with each other but you had no idea how else to interact now that you were broken up. Thankfully, Harry walked up to the two of you with a plate of food and relieved some of the tension.

“Hey.” He said to you before realizing Tom was there too. “Oh. Sorry. I didn’t realize you guys were talking. Should I leave?”

“No!” You and Tom said in unison. Harry leaving meant you’d have to scramble to find more things to say so you were desperate to keep him there. Harry gave you both a strange look over how enthusiastically you said no before taking a bite of one of his meatballs.

“It’s fine. What did you need?” You asked him.

“That guy I told you about is here. He wants to meet you.” Harry said and pointed over his shoulder. Tom followed his finger and saw a 6 foot tall blonde guy covered in those little minimalistic tattoos. The very tattoos you once told Tom you loved on other people.

“Oh, great.” You smiled and waved to the guy. Tom looked between you and the guy several times and felt jealousy bubble up inside him.

“Who’s that guy?” He asked through a forced laugh so he didn’t sound as worried as he felt.

“That’s Garrett. He’s one of my photographs buddies.” Harry explained.

“I’ll go say hi.” You told Harry before going over to the guy. Tom watched you hug him hello and clenched his jaw.

“Woah, mate. Whats going on with you? If you stare any harder, that vein in your neck is gonna explode.” Harry said to him.

“Who is that guy?” Tom whispered harshly.

“I told you. He’s a friend from film school. I hooked him up with Y/n.”

“Hooked up?” Tom almost shouted. “What do you mean hooked up?”

“Oh my God. Down boy.” Harry snorted. “I mean I hooked them up to work on a project together. She wants him to shoot something for her.”

“If she needs pictures then why can’t you do it?”

“Because shes like my sister so I don’t want to see her in her underwear.” Harry said like it was obvious. Tom’s stomach dropped and he looked back over at you and Garrett. You were laughing at something he had said and Tom’s jealousy doubled.

“Underwear? What are you talking about?” Tom asked.

“I don’t know. She wants to do some album art in this vintage lingerie she found and he specializes in the style she was going for. I wasn’t really listening when she was explaining because I was too focused on the meatballs.” Harry shrugged and took another bite of his food. Tom snatched Harry plate and put it down on the nearest table.

“Stop eating the meatballs for one second. Are you telling me you asked that guy to take pictures of her in her underwear?” Tom whispered angrily.

“Yes, Tom. I approached my friend and asked him to take photos of my brothers ex girlfriend in her underwear specifically for my own enjoyment.” Harry said sarcastically. Tom gave him an annoyed look so Harry stopped being sarcastic.

“No. She needed a photographer, he needed a job, so I hooked them up. Thats the end of the very simple and very boring story of why Y/n is talking to that guy.”

“Stop saying hooked them up. You’re making it sound like they’re gonna date. Does he even know about me?” Tom asked as he stared daggers over at you and Garrett.

“He’s seen Spies in Disguise.” Harry shrugged.

“Oh my God.” Tom groaned. “I don’t mean my films. Does he know I’m her boyfriend?”

“You mean ex boyfriend?” Harry said out of the corner of his mouth. Tom gave him a look and Harry quickly shoved another meatball into his mouth.

“Fine. Ex. Does he know we used to date?”

“Relax, mate. I’m your brother. I’m not gonna throw your girl into the arms of another man. We’re all rooting for you guys to get back together.”

“Okay, good.” Tom sighed in relief.

“But sometimes, in order to realize who your soulmate is, you have to sleep with a beefy photographer who has tattoos straight off a Pinterest board.”

“WHAT?” Tom shouted this time, causing a few people to look over at them.

“Oh my God. It was a joke.” Harry groaned. “Chill out. How are you still this uptight when there are delicious meatballs around?”

“Enough with the meatballs.” Tom hissed. “You don’t really think she’s gonna sleep with him, do you?”

“Hm. Probably not.” Harry shrugged as he looked over at you and Garrett.

“Good.” Tom sighed.

“But my boy is a dawg so he’s definitely gonna try.” Harry snorted and ate another meatball. Tom looked at him with an unamused expression and Harry stopped chewing.

“Sorry.” He mumbled. “Wrong crowd.”

“It doesn’t matter if he tries. She’d never go for a guy like that. He’s all wrong for her. Right?” Tom asked nervously.

“Mate, don’t do this here. We’re here to support Sam. This is not the time or place to fight for your girls honor.” Harry pointed out. Tom reluctantly nodded in agreement and turned to watch you again. Garrett had his hand on your shoulder now as he told you some story.

“Nope. I can’t watch this. I need to talk to her.” Tom decided and crossed the room to get to you. You and Garrett were laughing at something so Tom started laughing too until you noticed he was there.

“Oh, Garrett, this is Tom.” You said to bring Tom into the conversation.

“Hey, man. I loved you in Spies in Disguise.” Garrett said as he shook his hands. Tom felt slightly annoyed that he couldn’t hate this guy since he was nice.

“Thanks.” Tom said quietly. An awkward silence fell between the three of you and all laughter ceased.

“It’s a great movie. Underrated as hell.” You added after an awkward beat of silence.

“Thank you, darling.” Tom said sincerely. “So what were you guys talking about?”

“We were talking about maybe working together for a shoot.” Garrett answered.

“Right. Harry was telling me about it. I wanted to tell you that you can come over and grab some of your sets if you need them for the shoot. You left a lot at my place.” Tom said to you. You narrowed your eyes at him but couldn’t help but smile. You knew exactly what he was doing and he knew it too. He smiled innocently at you before checking for Garrett’s reaction.

“His place? Why would your stuff be there?” Garett wondered.

“Of course it’s at my place. Where else would she be wearing lingerie?” Tom asked with a simple shrug. You turned your face so he wouldn’t see you laughing at what he said.

“Wait, so, how do you guys know each other?” Garrett asked you.

“Oh, I’m sorry. She must not have mentioned. I know her from being her boyfriend.” Tom said and put an arm around you.

“Ex boyfriend.” You smiled sarcastically and pushed his arm off.

“Semantics.” Tom shrugged.

“Ex?” Garett raised his eyebrows. “Wow. Thats great news. I didn’t think a girl as pretty as you was available.”

“Oh, I’m not.” You laughed awkwardly.

“You’re not?” Garett frowned.

“You’re not?” Tom smiled in surprise.

“I mean, I am, but not for you two. Excuse me.” You smiled at them both and quickly exited the conversation. Tom and Garrett looked at each other with a new sense of competition between them.

“Spies in Disguise wasn’t even that good.” Garett mumbled out of the corner of his mouth.

“Tell that to my Kids Choice Award.” Tom snapped.

“I will.” Garrett said mockingly. They exchanged sharp looks with one another before Tom walked away. He searched the room for you but couldn’t find you for a while. He asked around to see if anyone had seen you but had no luck. He sighed and went outside the restaurant to get some air. Coincidentally, you had the same idea. You were leaning against the wall of the restaurant with a drink in your hand and staring out into the night.

“Hey.” Tom said as he approached you.

“Jesus Christ.” You jumped.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. But I have been looking for you. Do you think we could talk?”

“About what?” You played dumb and took a long sip of your drink. Tom kicked some gravel on the ground and kept his eyes down.

“Us.”

“Is it really a good time? My blood is like 70% red sauce right now.” You groaned and patted your full stomach.

“When else? You don’t return any of my calls.” Tom said without looking in your eyes. You could hear how upset he was over that you felt bad for ignoring him for so long.

“Because we broke up. People who break up aren’t supposed to talk.” You said gently.

“But we weren’t supposed to break up.“ he insisted and looked up at you.

“How can you say that when you’re the one who broke up with me?”

“It was a mistake. I just blurted that out during the fight. I was frustrated from the terrible day I had so I took it out on you. I never meant to say I wanted to break up.”

“But you did.“ You reminded him. “I don’t care how frustrated you were. I never would’ve said that to you.”

“I know.” He sighed. “And believe me, I’ve wished I could take it back from the second it left my lips.”

“Then why’d you say it?” You asked quietly.

“I don’t know.” He answered honestly. “It just fell out of my mouth.”

“Because you don’t have any lips to stop it?” You asked with a coy smile. Tom looked at you in surprise and could tell you felt proud of that one.

“That kinda sounded like you forgiving me.” He smiled cheekily.

“Maybe I’m just trying to get back into a family that can produce meatballs like this.” You shrugged and avoided eye contact. You could feel Tom staring at you so you kept your eyes out on the London skyline.

“Why’d you come tonight?” He asked after a beat of silence.

“I told you. Your mom invited me. And I wanted to support Sam.”

“Support Sam doing what, though?” Tom genuinely wondered. “What is party even for? Sam just told me I had to come. I don’t even know what we’re celebrating.”

“I honestly don’t know either.” You admitted. “Your mom just told me Sam was having a party and making meatballs. I’ve been trying to figure out if it was a birthday or graduation from the decorations but they’re too vague. I’m just avoiding Sam so he doesn’t figure out that I don’t know what this event is for.”

“Maybe it’s just a meatball party.” Tom shrugged.

“Maybe.” You laughed softly and finally looked at him. When you looked into his eyes, you couldn’t bring yourself to be mad at him anymore. Whatever had started the fight was long gone from your memory. You didn’t care anymore. You just wanted to get back to how you used to be.

“I knew you were gonna be here today.” You confessed. “That’s why I showed up.”

“Really?” Tom asked and took a step closer to you.

“Really. I just didn’t want to have this conversation over the phone. That’s why I haven’t been answering your calls.”

“And what conversation might that be?” Tom asked and got even closer.

“The ‘I really miss you even though you’re a massive dingus who doesn’t deserve me’ conversation.” You said with a sheepish smile. Tom smiled in return and moved some hair off your face.

“I am a massive dingus.” He agreed. “And I don’t deserve you.”

“I already established that.”

“But what was that? Did I catch you saying you miss me?” He asked playfully and cupped his ear. You rolled your eyes and stepped into his arms to hug him.

“Of course I do. All the photographers I’ve been sleeping with made me miss what we had.” You said against his chest.

“I’ve missed you too, darling.” He sighed happily. “Wait, what that now?”

“I’m kidding. Kind of. Can we make up now?” You asked and pulled out of the hug just enough to look at him. Instead of replying, he leaned down to kiss you for the first time in weeks. It felt like you were picking right back up where you left off as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“That was a joke right?” He laughed once you pulled out of the kiss. Your eyes darted to the side as you pulled out of the embrace.

“We should go inside.”You changed the subject. “I just have to get some more of those meatballs.”

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