#tom holland pictorials

[hufflepuffhollander]

the photoshoot: tom holland imagine

a/n | i got this idea from a facebook post i saw and ran with it! i’ve never included a photo story in my writing so i hope i didn’t botch it! my WIPs are all pretty angsty so i figured i’d fluff it up a little for y’all (also this gif amirite)

summary | you are picked for a social experiment: a couples’ photoshoot where you don’t meet the person you’re posing with until the beginning of the session.

tom x fem reader | contains fluff, fluff, and more fluff | word count: 2.1k | enjoy!

“My god, just pick a dress, y/n. We’ve been here for hours.”

Your friend stood with her arms crossed as you studied yourself in the dressing room mirror, making faces of content then unrest, unsure if this dress was the one to go with- or if it could’ve been any of the last 15 you’d tried on.

“I can’t decide, maybe I just need to go through them again-”

“No!” your friend said, grabbing the pile of hanged clothes off of the hook on the wall and holding them out of your reach. “You’re overthinking this, it’s just a photoshoot! You don’t even know the guy! And the one you have on is obviously the best choice.”

You turned back to the mirror and stared at the starchy white fabric of the dress, its eyelet lace design making it a tight fit that accentuate your curves. You sighed in resignation. “Fine. But if the pictures come out and I look like a ghost, I’m blaming you.”

You took the outfit home and laid it out in preparation for tomorrow, kicking yourself for having signed up for this in the first place. After a long week, you only wanted to stay in your sweatpants in bed tomorrow instead of getting all dolled up to go take photos in cliche poses with a total stranger. You sent your friend a passive aggressive text about it, since she was the one who made you sign up for the ‘social experiment’, and all you received back was an annoyingly curt “you’ll thank me later”. You threw your phone aside and went to bed early, crossing your fingers that tomorrow would go by as quickly as possible. 

You arrived to the shoot location the next day- a vineyard an hour away that you got turned around twice trying to find. Once you stepped out of the car, the photographer came to greet you, a friendly woman in her mid thirties wearing all black and a massive camera swinging around her neck like an oversized necklace.

“Ah, y/n, thank you so much for coming! It seems like your partner is running a little behind, so we’ll just have to wait for a few,” she smiled bleakly, running away to ridicule one of the men setting up the reflective umbrellas.

“We want to capture the people, not the sun, Nicholas.”

You leaned against your car already annoyed at your partner for failing to show up. You had woken up two hours early to curl your hair and do a full face of makeup, and this is how you get rewarded? You swore up and down that you’d smack your friend when you saw her later. The photographer, whose name you learned was Karen—typical—brought you into a tangle of grapevines to test the lighting and shoot some practice photos. You were already horribly uncomfortable when it was just you standing alone, and couldn’t imagine how much worse it would be when another clueless anti-model had to pose next to you.

“Doll, just put your hand on your hip, like this-

“Well no, not like that—uh, Nicholas, can you go pose her?

“Just smile, dear. You look...really unhappy.”

It was nightmarish. 

You were saved by the bell as another car pulled into the lot and a guy of average height wearing a crisp blazer stepped out, wearing the snobbiest looking pair of wayfarers you’d ever seen. 

“Oh, great! Tom’s here,” Karen cheered, happy to rush away from the agonizing one-on-one session you’d just had. You looked at Nicholas, trying again to fix the umbrella.

“Tom?” you asked, and he just nodded. 

“Yeah, Tom Holland. Don’t know how she managed to get an A-lister out here for this, but that’s Karen,” he responded, walking away.

Wait, what?

Karen waltzed back over to you with him in tow, a smile plastered on her face so big you thought the one she flashed you earliest must’ve been entirely insincere.

“Great! Here we are! y/n, this is Tom,” she said, pushing him forward to stand in front of you. He gave you a bright smile and stuck out his hand.

“Pleasure to meet you, love.”

You shook his hand without speaking because you literally had forgotten how to breathe. This was your stranger? You’d had the biggest, most incurable crush on Tom Holland since you were a teenager, and all of your social skills that you’d picked up as an adult had clearly just evaporated in the sun.

“Uh, hi-” Karen and Tom shared a laugh at your starstruck expression. “Sorry, do you two know each other?”

“Yeah, Karen and I go way back,” Tom said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and squeezing her tight. “She taught me how to model.”

“Well, it’s not hard when you have this face to work with!” She pinched Tom’s cheeks and grinned, then looked you up and down, reminding you with a glance how hard it had been just to get you to smile for the camera without looking deranged. Ouch, Karen.

“Okay, well, let’s get started then,” she skipped off back to the rows of vines lining the field and Tom ushered you with his hand. “After you,” he smiled. 

You tried not to stumble over your heels stepping in the uneven earth below you, and Karen brought the camera up to her face with a squeal. “Alright, sweeties, let’s make the camera think you’re falling in love!” Karen, you decided, was an extremely over-the-top human. “This is your meet cute. You’re just seeing each other for the first time. Make it sparkle.”

That was all she gave you direction-wise, and you and Tom just stood staring at each other a few feet apart as the camera started clicking. The shade of your cheeks made it look like you’d just run a marathon and you just started giggling out of sheer nerve, making Tom start to work up a laugh, too. 

“She’s a bit much, isn’t she?” he motioned with his eyes so Karen couldn’t pick up on his comment.

“I don’t even know what she wants me to do.” you said, concentrating on a bushel of grapes instead of Tom’s dreamy face because you were worried if you spent more than three seconds looking into his eyes, you’d pass out cold.

“Well I’m basically a pro at this, so let me help you, okay?” he said, reaching out for your hand again. You took it as your heart did somersaults in your chest, and as he exclaimed “ooh, nice nails”, you genuinely smiled, giving Karen exactly the shot she wanted. 

Your hand was shaking, and he gave it a gentle squeeze. “Why are you so nervous?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? I’m absolutely clueless!”

Tom shrugged and looked off to the side. “Well, you said it, not me...”

You gasped and feigned offense, whipping your hand out of his. “How dare you!”

He laughed and tried to take your hand again, but you dramatically swiped your arm out of his reach, and the camera picked up a series of shots that made it look like you and Tom were playing ninja. 

“Uh, what are we doin’ here, folks?” Karen questioned as you and Tom ran in circles around one another, him trying to get at your hands and you doing everything in your power not to let it happen. Your nerves melted away as the endorphins kicked in. Eventually Tom gave up and decided to grab hold of you, pick you up and twirl you around, in the chaos yelling “We need to please the Karen!”. You were laughing and out of breath from running around, and you slowly lowered your head to his, the look in his eyes reading that he was about to kiss you...

“That was amazing!” Karen squealed, shaking you from Tom’s mesmerizing stare, pushing the moment past you. Tom let you down to the ground, both of you shocked that he’d made such a bold move in the first place. He wiped his hands on the legs of his pants and cleared his throat as you fiddled with some of the curls that had come loose around your face. Karen couldn’t be happier; the money shot came out looking like a magazine ad.

 Tom gave you a sheepish smile. “Uh, sorry if that was too-”

“It wasn’t,” you batted your lashes at him and could’ve sworn his cheeks were tinted just as pink as yours.

Karen’s loud voice pitched in as you had ended up standing still, a photographer’s worst nightmare.

“Okay, so we’ve met, now show me that chemistry!” she shouted, getting an eye roll from you and a snicker from Tom at your reaction. 

“Is she expecting us to fall madly in love now that we’ve known each other for more than five minutes?” you asked, fluffing out the skirt of your dress.

“Weirder things have happened,” Tom shrugged his shoulders and winked at you before turning around and walking towards a cluster of vines, picking off a grape and popping in his mouth with a satisfying crunch.

“Oh, are we allowed to eat them? I’m dying out here in the sun!” You followed his pattern and picked a few grapes out of the brambles, noticing a few rows away that there was a small table with two glasses and a bottle of wine. Tom followed your gaze to the alcohol and looked back at you, his expression reflecting exactly what you were thinking.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he smirked.

You collectively ignored Karen’s remarks as you wandered to the table and filled the glasses.

“Are we sure this is here for us?” you looked around skeptically. 

“I have no idea, darling. Cheers.”

You sat down in the grass and clinked the flutes together, still unable to believe this was really happening to you. You and Tom started to talk about nothing, already feeling a thousand times more comfortable around each other, bonding over this shared weird experience—and the fresh off-the-vine wine certainly didn’t hesitate to calm your nerves.

As Tom was leaning closer to you, gaze notably flicking from your eyes to your lips, Karen snuck up to you—pretending to be a grape?—and snapped photos of your impromptu picnic. 

“Just adorable,” she murmured, and you almost spilled your wine because of how startled you were. Damnit, Karen, you keep ruining the moment. But she didn’t think twice about the interruption; she almost had tears in her eyes because of how perfect the shots were.

You both sat up and away from one another, feeling stiff now that a lens was pointed at you.

“Well, don’t stop on my account!” she chortled, wholly unaware her debut was what killed the vibe.

Tom stood up and offered his hand to help you stand, not immediately letting it go as you wandered to a different part of the sunny vineyard. You pushed the photographer out of your mind as you chatted again, bumping each other’s shoulders as you walked and not minding it a bit. Every time you saw a certain glint in Tom’s eyes, any moment he caught you looking, there could’ve been a spark there that ignited something more. But you were constantly interrupted by shutter clicks, yells at Nicholas, and annoying directing interjections by the appropriately-named Karen.

At one point, Tom had clearly had enough of the pestering, and took your hand, pulling you into an array of closely packed trees so you couldn’t be found. 

“Woah- what are you doing?” you asked, confused at the sudden change of scenery.

“Guys? Where did you go?” You heard a shrill voice coming from outside the trees, and Tom attempted to shush you by pulling you close into his body and covering half your face with his hand. 

“Shut up shut up shut-”

You heard Karen’s voice grow quieter as she searched in the opposite direction.

“Tom!” you chuckled, prying his fingers off of your cheek. “You’re going to smear my makeup!”

“It’s not like you need it, y/n,” he said without thinking, attention still focused on hiding.

Your whole face grew hot and you couldn’t help but smile like a complete fool. When he looked down at your reaction, he noticed the weight in what he’d said, and made the cutest giggle you’d ever heard, trying to avert the focus from his compliment.

“Sorry, I just couldn’t handle another photo directive being shouted in my ear,” he breathed while pushing his hair back out of his eyes in some devilishly handsome way. You were still clutching the hand that had been on your face, and Tom looked down to interlock his fingers with yours.

“You do know we’re at a photoshoot, right?”

He playfully shoved your shoulder with his free hand at your sassy comment.

“Just saying, I thought you were a pro-”

You heard the photographer’s voice come into the foreground again and you abruptly ran as fast as you could with heels on, still holding Tom’s hand as you trailed behind him. You found yourselves in an even more tightly packed bramble of trees, facing each other with barely a grapevine’s width between you. 

“Oh, you have a stick in your hair,” you whispered, reaching up to pick a tiny branch out of his curls. As you looked from his hair to his eyes, he was staring deeply into yours, prompting you to leave your hand resting at the back of his neck. 

Wordlessly, he leaned in and kissed you in one fell swoop, and you thought you might implode on the spot when his lips came in contact with your own. He tasted like cologne and crisp grape juice and it was a mixture of scents you hoped would never leave your nose—just the way he kissed you so sweetly made you want to bathe in the stuff.

When he pulled back, he brought your intertwined fingers up to cup your cheek, and you let your hand rest on the back of his as you tilted your head to instigate another kiss, still enjoyably dizzied from the one before. 

Tom let his mouth linger over yours after another long kiss before coming up for air again, and you could see his eyes wrinkling at the corners, knowing he was smiling without being able to see the rest of his face.

“You know, I was hesitant to do the whole ‘stranger photoshoot’ thing, but now I’m pretty happy I was able to be convinced.” He sighed contently.

“This was more of a stranger hide-and-go-seek than a photoshoot, I feel like,” you spoke from your lighthearted chest in airy breaths and moved to lock lips again, unable to get enough of your stranger. He put his hand on the small of your back and leaned you backward, deepening the already electric hold he had on you.

“I don’t want you to be a stranger anymore, darling,” he mumbled against you, sending vibrations through you with his voice. You just whispered a soft “okay”, lost for words, as his mouth touched your cheek, your jaw, and then back to your lips for more of your wine-infused kisses. You were wishing this moment could last forever, Tom holding you and sending shivers down your spine, right as you heard a click and saw the bright white flash of a bulb. 

“Jesus, Karen!”

But she didn’t care that you were mad; her experiment had worked, she’d gotten her strangers together—and just look at that shot.

[spidermaninlove]

A pictorial Tomdaya story, featuring Zendaya, Tom Holland, and the return of the Tomdaya shoes!

[angstkillmonger]

Almost (Tom Holland)

Prompt:  “it´s my [insert family relation here]´s wedding and seeing all these happy couples is killing me and all i can think about is how this was almost us” AU (bonus: “i know that it’s two in the morning and i’m dressed really formally and a little (a lot) bit drunk but i couldn’t stop thinking about you also can i come in it’s freezing out here”)

Warning/s: angst, breakup, language, tom holland

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Tom Holland

A/N: i spent too much time dwelling on the memories i had with a garbage ex boyfriend and i just wanted to take it all out here so here have this (also i couldnt stop thinking about the post-breakup au’s so i just had to ok) 

Tom’s heart was beyond broken. 

He faked all his smiles during the pictorial with the newlyweds and his relatives. He faked all his laughs when his cousins told him the corniest jokes. He faked his whole personality for this night, so no one would see how affected he felt. So no one would see how broken his heart still is. 

The party was going really well. His cousins along with some of his brothers were drinking so much in the open bar. His aunts and uncles were dancing in the dance floor to a song that vaguely sounded like a sex song. The bride and the groom were nowhere to be found. It was a night no one was gonna remember in about two days’ time. 

Tom sat in his table with Harrison, who passed out about an hour ago. He told him that he should get home if he was feeling tired, but Harrison insisted that he stayed as long as Tom wants to. Time was ticking closer to 1 AM, and Tom made no plans on leaving until he’s got you off his mind. 

Tom’s chest clenches painfully at the thought of you.

It’s been 4 months since you last saw each other. 4 months since he said he wanted to break up with you. It’s probably the alcohol in his system but he doesn’t remember why he broke up with you. Why would he break up with you? You were so perfect. The perfect girlfriend anyone could wish for. And Tom just decided to throw it all away, just because of some stupid reason that he can’t even fucking remember. 

Tom downed the beer in his hand, his tongue and throat wanting to deny the liquor but his mind forcing him to swallow it all. Alcohol isn’t exactly the best remedy for broken hearts, but Tom has no other remedy to turn to. No one gave him a list of instructions on how to move on from an ex-girlfriend. 

Ex-girlfriend. Fuck, that hurt. 

Tom slammed the beer bottle onto the table, startling Harrison awake. 

“Whassamatter?” he asked in a frantic tone, briefly sitting up and looking around. 

Tom let out a frustrated huff as he loosened the tie from around his collar. Harrison looked at him with his eyes half-opened before resting his head back onto the table. He immediately started snoring. 

The song in the dance floor turned from upbeat to a slow one. Immediately the mood of the dance floor changed. Some people went back to their seats, either taking a break from dancing or turned off by the sudden change of genre. The majority of the people that stayed behind the dance floor were couples. 

Tom nibbled on the inside of his bottom lip. For a moment, he sees himself in that dance floor, holding you close into his arms, swaying along to the slow beat and melody of the song. You’re resting your cheek against his chest and his hands rest against your waist. Both of your hearts were beating in sync. There was no place Tom would rather be. 

Fuck. 

Tears blurred Tom’s vision and they soon dripped down onto his cheeks. He looked away from the dance floor and wiped away his tears with the back of his hand. He suddenly didn’t want to be here anymore. He wanted to leave the place as soon as possible. 

“Harrison, get up. Get up, mate, we’re going home.” Tom frantically shook his best friend’s shoulder. Harrison grumbled as he slowly lifted up his head from the table, his eyes squinted. “Whu - ?”

“Give me your keys, mate. We’re going home.” 

Harrison let out a tired groan before getting his car keys out from his back pocket. Tom took them, then grabbed Harrison’s arm to get out. 

“What time is it?” Harrison groggily asked, yawning after. Tom didn’t answer him as he hoisted his whole weight onto his back and walked out of the function hall and out of the hotel building. 

It took a while finding Harrison’s car, especially when he’s literally carrying him. But he managed to find it and forced Harrison into the back of his car. 

“Tom, what time is it?” Harrison asked again, sounding aggressively drunk. “Just sleep, Haz. You’ll feel better in the morning.” Tom hastily replied as he drove away from the building. Harrison seemed to have found his response good enough for him; he immediately began snoring. 

Sending a text to his parents and to his brothers that he’s with Harrison, he turns up the volume of the car radio to drown out his thoughts and his best friend’s loud snoring. 

The drive to Tom’s house wasn’t long, just 10 minutes. It was probably because he was going past the speed limit. When they arrived, Tom had to hoist Harrison up his back again to drag him into the house. 

He let him on his couch, Harrison landing in a soft grunt and a satisfied sigh. Tom left him there, going up to his room and taking off his blazer. He hastily threw it on his bed and began working with untying his tie.

“Fucking god,” he swore under his breath when the tie refused to untie. When he struggled for about a minute, Tom just gave up and threw himself onto his bed, still in his formal wear.

Tom tightly closed his eyes, inhaling the scent of his pillow. He opened his eyes again, his eyes landing on the ceiling. 

Everything in his room reminded him of you. It used to smell like you for a week after he broke up with you. Now the only thing that smells like you is his bed. The pillows, the sheets, the blanket, it all smelled like you. You smelled like home, and Tom wants nothing more than to go back home. 

To go back to you.

You were a comforting thought to him. Whenever he’s away filming in Atlanta or promoting a movie in another country, he gets through the rough day with just the thought of you. You always texted him throughout the day, asking him how he’s currently holding up or if an interviewer asked a nasty question about him or about something he deeply cared about. Then at the end of the day, you’d call him, your voice like a choir of heaven’s best angels to him. The hard day he’s had would immediately be worth it for him, because he’s got someone special to him supporting him back at home. 

He glanced at his bedside table. Beside a few bottles of perfume was a small, velvet box. Tom took it into his hands, slowly opening it to reveal an engagement ring. He didn’t want to go all out for the ring when he bought it. He knew you didn’t want anything over the top. 

He almost proposed to you. But his brain just decided to shut down for an hour and he broke up with you. You almost wore a white dress and a long white veil and he almost shared his first dance with you as a married couple.

Almost.

He held the tiny box close to his chest, hot tears forming in his eyes. He’s drunk and he misses you. He misses you so much. He hadn’t had any good sleep in 4 months because his bed still smells like you and all he can think about is how warm you used to feel. He can’t get you out of his mind. 

He’s still hurting. God, he’s still hurting over you. 

Tom stood up from his bed, taking Harrison’s car keys and stuffing the velvet box into his pocket before running out of the door. 

It was 2 in the morning when you heard someone knock on your door. It was frantic and urgent. You were awake listening to podcasts and drinking whiskey. If someone gave a shit about your well-being, it wasn’t you. You turned off your phone, looking at your reflection on the screen. 

You looked horrible. You haven’t had enough sleep these past months. Your way of coping with it was drinking it away until you’re passed out on the couch like some middle-aged white man. You don’t remember the last time you fell asleep on your bed. You just stopped walking to your bedroom because your pillows smell like -

The knocking increasingly got louder.

You don’t care about how you look right now, but if any of your friends were out there, you’d have to at least look a little sober and not like you’ve been trying to get over your ex-boyfriend through corny podcasts and whiskey.

The thought of Tom made you sigh. 4 months have passed and he’s the reason why you can’t sleep right. Nothing interesting has happened since he left you. You realized how empty your life could be when he’s not around. He always makes you feel like your life isn’t as boring as you perceived it to be. Now that he was gone, the days somehow became shorter and the nights edged on longer. 

You shook your head when you heard the knocks again. You tied your hair up in a more proper-looking pony tail and made sure the dark circles underneath your eyes weren’t as prominent as you think they are. You pulled on your sweater and stood up from the couch, trudging over to the front door. 

You weren’t prepared to see the person you last wanted to see when you opened it. 

It was Tom. You winced at how terrible he looked. His eyes were red from crying. His hair resembled a bird’s nest. For some reason, he was wearing a white dress shirt and a pair of black pants. What was he doing wearing that?

“Tom?” you said, barely above a whisper. You felt your stomach flutter with hope. All you wanted to do was to hold him close to you, and everything would be alright, even if it’s just for a little bit. 

Tom’s eyes flickered. “Hi,” he shyly said to you. 

“Wh - what’re you doing here?” 

Tom looked anywhere but at you. “I - s - sorry if I’m intruding you or something. I know it’s like, 2 AM and I - I -” he chuckled to himself as he gestured to his outfit, “I’m dressed a bit formal to be this miserable at your front door. And um, c - can I come in? It’s really cold out here.” 

You slowly nodded, too stunned to speak. You stepped aside so he could get inside. Once he was inside, he stood beside the coat hanger, looking around the house and probably looking for any differences in the interior. Despite your depression, you managed to keep the house clean. Actually, cleaning was one of your ways of dealing with your heartbreak. It felt meditative to you.

Tom stood awkwardly, his hands behind his back, his teeth nibbling on the inside of his bottom lip, his eyes never falling on you. You were beyond confused with him right now. But you gathered up enough guts within you to speak up to him.

“What’re you doing here, Tom?” you asked again, but you sounded more firm and stern about it. Tom looked at you with wide eyes, as if asking you to repeat what you just said. 

“What’re you doing here? After leaving me 4 months ago?” 

You struggled to keep your voice on level. You didn’t want to yell at him. 

“You were so keen on staying away from my life 4 months ago and now you’re here looking like you’re ready for a funeral at 2 in the morning. What’s up with that, Tom?” Your voice cracked when you said his name. You never got closure, and it hurt that you were about to get it 4 months late.

Tom looked so guilty. He looked worse than you probably do, but it was hard to pinpoint that at first glance. He’s wearing a dress shirt and some pants. It’s hard to see someone acting miserable when they’re wearing something fancy.

“I -” He cut himself off from speaking up, putting a hand to his chest and breathing in and out to calm himself down. His eyes were starting to water. “After whatever stupid excuse I said to you, you might not believe what I’m about to say to you.” he started, stepping close to you. You backed away subconsciously.

“I miss you so much. I miss having you around. I miss the feeling of being able to know that I have someone to come back home to. Nothing is as easy as it used to be when we were together. I keep on checking my messages to see if you’ve texted me whenever I’m away, asking me if I’m okay or if an interviewer pissed me off. I keep on expecting a call from you whenever I’m on a break or I’m done for a day of interviews. Hell, I keep on messing up my Chinese takeout order because I keep on ordering your favorite. I’m so used to having someone - to having you around my life that it’s so unusual for me to keep on doing stuff with just myself. 

“You were a part of my life and I ripped you off the picture. You were a piece of my heart that I thought I didn’t need. I didn’t know what would happen to me, because I was a stupid fucking moron to realize you’re important to me. I’m in love with you. I still am. I really, really am. And I want you to know that, even if it’s hard for you to believe me at this point.” 

At the end of his confession, he was in tears. And so were you. You felt your heart constrict at the sound of his sob. He looked so wrecked, but he’s so beautiful. He’s as beautiful as his words, and you couldn’t think of why he would be otherwise.

Unable to hold yourself back, you launch yourself into his arms. Your lips connected with his and he didn’t hesitate to kiss back. His arms wrap around your waist and yours wrap around his neck, pulling each other impossibly closer. Although you wanted to stay in this position longer, kissing him as if you’re a man deprived of food, you were out of breath. You both pulled away, breathing heavily.

Tom didn’t want to let you go, hugging you so tight he might’ve broken some of your ribs. But you didn’t argue as you hugged him just as tight. He rests his head against your shoulder, inhaling the scent of your hair and choking back a sob. You carefully cradled his face in your hands, afraid you’ll break his face if you didn’t handle it like it was made of glass.

“I love you,” you whispered against his soft skin, showering his tear-stained cheeks with kisses. Tom sniffed as he wiped away the tears running down your cheeks with his thumbs. “I love you too,” Tom replied.

Together, you stayed in each other’s arms the entire night, afraid of letting go, afraid something might happen if one of you does. Tom lets his kisses tell you that he’s never going to leave you again, and that he’ll always love you.

You’ve never slept so good in so long.

Taglist: (send me an ask if you wanna be included!)

@papi-chulo-bucky @sighodinson @redgillan @daysoffuturepast @221bshrlocked@ballyhoobarnes @whotheeffisbucky @bucky-plums-barnes @buckyywiththegoodhair@buckyofthemyscira @captainrogerss @captnbarnesrogers @sanjariti @heckin-good-holland @thejamesoldier @fvckingavengers @justsomebucky @fvckingbuchanan@capsbuchanan @mlmbarnes @kenetijame @buchonians @petersbackpack@buckaholic @samuelsbucky @bbbarneswrites @soldatbarnes

[comicsxaminer]

Vanity Fair has four different covers each spotlighting the main cast of Avengers: Infinity War with Falcon (Anthony Mackie), Iron Man (Robert Downey Jr.), Black Widow (Scarlett Johansson), Thor (Chris Hemsworth), Black Panther (Chadwick Boseman), Scarlet Witch (Elizabeth Olsen), Hulk (Mark Ruffalo), Ant-Man (Paul Rudd), Vision (Paul Bettany), Hawkeye (Jeremy Renner), War Machine (Don Cheadle), Captain America (Chris Evans), The Wasp (Evangeline Lilly); and finally Pepper Potts (Gwyneth Paltrow), Spider-Man (Tom Holland), Star-Lord (Chris Pratt), and Dr. Stephen Strange (Benedict Cumberbatch).

The magazine also has this nice pictorial that includes some of the supporting characters from the upcoming Marvel blockbuster.

Avengers: Infinity War opens in theaters 05/04/18

Avengers: Infinity War Covers Vanity Fair, First Official Look At The Cast Vanity Fair has four different covers each spotlighting the main cast of Avengers: Infinity War with Falcon (Anthony Mackie), Iron Man (Robert Downey Jr.), Black Widow (Scarlett Johansson), Thor (Chris Hemsworth), Black Panther (Chadwick Boseman), Scarlet Witch (Elizabeth Olsen), Hulk (Mark Ruffalo), Ant-Man (Paul Rudd), Vision (Paul Bettany), Hawkeye (Jeremy Renner), War Machine (Don Cheadle), Captain America (Chris Evans), The Wasp (Evangeline Lilly); and finally Pepper Potts (Gwyneth Paltrow), Spider-Man (Tom Holland), Star-Lord (Chris Pratt), and Dr.