This Made My Heart Go Whoosh

cuteee🥺

Hi, could you maybe do something where Peter finds out that the reader thinks she's ugly and he just doesn't believe her because he has such a huge crush on her? I love your work

thank you! This is a bit of a mess and so random? Whskshsjshsns

Okay say it with me. “I am hot.” Thank you for coming to my ted talk- okay but also, “My looks are the least interesting thing about me.” Okay now you can go on mwah

But pls you do not need any man to think you’re hot for you to actually be hot. buuuuut i guess Peter can give you a little nudge in the right direction <3 because I know you're hot and you deserve to see it too

warnings: idk well insecure!reader (but she doesn’t wanna admit that she cares about how she looks) lmao?, the reader calling herself ug*y and believing it :(

-

You and Peter are watching some old trashy comedy. It’s a cold Friday afternoon and you didn’t know what else to do.

Currently, in typical 2000s fashion, the conventionally un-attractive character is being made fun of.

“Oh he’s like me,” with a smile, you point at the guy on screen, pausing it for a second.

“In what way?” Peter asks, confusion painted across his face.

“Ugly,” you simply say.

Peter laughs and you press play again.

He looks over at you and realises you’re not laughing. He pauses the film, “Wait. Was that a joke?”

“You’ve seen my face, right?”

“I have. And it’s not ugly at all.”

You roll your eyes, “You don’t have to say that, I wasn’t fishing for compliments, I was just... joking.”

“So saying you’re ugly was a joke? Right?”

“No but.. just forget it,” you sigh at Peter misinterpreting your words. You were simply acknowledging a similarity with a character, not trying to make him think you were looking for compliments.

You press the space key to start the film again but Peter presses it again to stop it.

“No you... you think you’re ugly?”

“Yeah,” you shrug, “But it’s fine. Don’t worry. I’m not defined by my looks. I’m smart, I’m funny, I’m kind, that’s all way more important.”

“Yeah it is, of course it is. But do you think I talked to you first day of college because I thought you were going to be smart and funny and kind?”

“I don’t know, I do think I look approachable,” you frown. You were under the impression you looked nice and friendly.

“Yes, you’re approachable because you’re beautiful. Well, intimidatingly beautiful, but I’ve always been an optimistic guy.”

“I don’t really know where this is going.”

“I just can’t believe you think you’re ug— I don’t even want to say that.”

“I promise I wasn’t fishing for—“

“I know you weren’t. Look, I don’t want to make things awkward between us two but I can’t stand that you think you’re anything other than extremely attractive.

“I’ve had a crush on you since the first time I saw you. And yes, you’re kind and intelligent and funny and that has all made me even more attracted to you but I came up to you and talked to you because I thought you were hot. And I still think you’re hot, you become hotter every time you say something, except for that one word right now, or every time look at me.”

You let his words sink in and look away, “Oh,” you can’t help but smile a little, “Well... thanks.”

“You don’t believe me,” Peter states, sitting up now.

“I do it’s just... surprising. That someone I like would also likes me back even though I’m so ug—”

“Don’t say that about yourself. If you say negative things about yourself you’ll start believing it. Even if it starts as a joke, your subconscious can’t tell the difference. Please, at least stop calling yourself that.

“I mean I know you don’t need me telling you that you’re beautiful, we all have our insecurities and I don’t want to tell you what to feel but... I can’t believe you’re questioning my taste in women.”

“What do you mean?” you pull your eyebrows together, still trying to believe that he actually likes you.

“I like the hottest woman I’ve ever seen, and you’re calling her this negative word. It’s insulting,” he says it with a look that lets you know he’s not really thinking about how this is making him feel. He cares about how you feel.

You try to hide your growing smile but you can’t, “Sorry to burst your bubble but she’s not as hot as you seem to think—“

He interrupts you by (gently) grabbing your face, his fingers on your jaw, thumb by your chin and he angles your face so you’re looking him straight in the eyes. “Please. Don’t talk about her like that. Don’t talk about yourself like that.”

You’re silent for a moment, not knowing what to say so you decide to keep up your act, “Aw. Does that hurt your feelings?”

“Yes, actually. I know looks aren’t everything. And if you don’t care about how you look that’s okay. But we can’t have you walking around thinking you’re unattractive.”

You still don’t agree with him, but you can’t think straight when he’s so close, his hand still on your face. You catch him looking at your lips and you realise your own eyes wandering down to look at his.

You lean up and give him a short kiss.

“I guess I...” you pull away, “I’m cute,” you make a face right after, “No, that still doesn’t sound right.”

He licks his lips and you see he’s still processing that you just kissed him and suddenly you can’t tell if it’s good or bad.

“Sorry,” you say.

“For what?” He smiles.

“Kissing you.”

“I just told you I like you. You just fulfilled a wish I’ve had for months. I don’t know why you’re apologising.”

“Okay. I like you too by the way.” You said it earlier but you think he was too busy calling you hot to properly realise.

He grins and this time you let yourself smile too, but you suddenly feel shy and can’t look at him anymore.

“Should we uh...” your finger is already resting on your keyboard, about to press play.

“Yeah just.. I don’t want to overstep or anything. I know some people don’t care about how they look and it’s okay if you don’t agree with me about being the hottest woman I know, and don’t get me wrong you’re so much more than just hot.

“And I’d still like you even if you weren’t as attractive because you have an amazing personality and that’s what matters. It’s okay if you’re neutral about the way you look, but actively saying those negative things about you can’t be good for your self esteem. I’m not trying to tell you what to do, I just don’t want you to suffer.”

“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t let a man tell me what to do anyway,” you grin, rolling your eyes, “I know you have good intentions.”

“Yeah,” he says, thinking while silence settles between you for a bit.

“I don’t have to bring it up anymore because I don’t want you to think that that’s all I care about. You might not agree but I think you’re beautiful. I’m not saying it matters greatly but it’s simply a fact to me that I like how you look.”

“God, if you keep saying that I look good I might start believing it.”

The crinkles return to his eyes as he smiles again, “I might let it slip once or twice a day then. Or an hour. You’re hot. Oops, sorry.”

You giggle, lightly slapping his arm “Stop.”

“I bet you’ve never seen how pretty you look when you smile like that. And I bet you’d agree with me if you could see.”

Your eyes find his, “C’mere.” You take his chin between your fingers and kiss him again, letting your lips linger on his for a bit while your heart beats wildly in your chest. “Thank you,” you say, noticing how you feel better after Peter’s motivating words.

“I think you’re quite cute too by the way,” you tell him.

“Too?” He teases, “So you’re starting to see what I’m talking about huh?”

“Shut up,” you laugh, slapping his chest this time. You happen to look into the mirror across your room and see your own smile. “Maybe I am”, you whisper.

Peter holds your hand as you finally watch the film and you can’t help but replay Peter’s words in your head every time you smile. You’re already starting to feel a little bit better about yourself.

if i had a dollar for every time they paused or continued the film—

(gotta do some positive affirmations now so my brain knows it was just fiction and I don’t actually believe anything the reader says about herself hskshskjs)

looking at these pictures has unlocked some long dead emotion in me i feel like im having an out of body experience

i hope u all have a lovely day :p <33333

♛ BROKEN CLOCKS ♛

― masterlist on november 25th

❝ senior year is rocky for everyone, but thankfully for peter parker, there’s only one week left of it, and the future is only brightening up. between fighting crime as queen’s friendly neighbourhood spider-man, interning at stark industries, and spending time with his girlfriend, it doesn’t look like he’s going to have much time to worry about attending nyu in the fall. but everything changes with a snap of thanos’ fingers. three years later, gone are slow dances at prom with you in his arms, gone are bonding moments with the only father figure he’s got left, and gone is the peter you remember. your worlds change again, breaking with them clocks, hearts, and futures that were set in stone. ❞

taglist link.

Sticky Affair [p.p]

pairing: Peter Parker x reader

summary/request: could you write something where pete comforts the reader after her bf cheated on her 🥺 (if you’re comfortable with that!) and the she realises there might be more than just friendship with peter? 👀

warnings: cheating, mentions of sex, let me know if i missed something?? wyekshshsg, they don’t (yet) get together in the end but there might be some feelings yk, this is literally just him comforting her, lol i definitely focussed on the first part of the request

word count: 2.4k

thank you so much @ Sparkles for the [amazing + spider-man themed :) ] title <3

A Week Ago

You’re still around the corner from Ned’s room, listening to the conversation while you take off your shoes and your coat.

“I’m glad she’s alone today. Max is so disgusting and mean and manipulative and she doesn’t even see it,” Ned rants. You don’t think he’s aware that you can hear him loud and clear.

“We don’t know what goes on behind closed doors,” Peter says, “she knows what she’s doing.”

“Don’t act like you weren’t talking shit about him the other day,” Ned scoffs.

“Honestly I think it’s all just pheromones. He’s an athlete, he sweats a lot,” MJ says and you can hear the humor in her voice as she goes on to complain about straight relationships.

“Hey. Who’re you guys talking about?” You ask as you finally join them.

“Oh um um,” Ned starts, looking at Peter with wide eyes.

“Just my cousin’s new boyfriend,” MJ shrugs.

Peter smiles at you but there’s guilt in his eyes. You know they were talking about you and Max.

At least Peter was trying to defend you. You huff as you sit down. And they still wonder why you don’t hang out with them that much anymore - it’s not the first time you’ve caught them talking about your relationship behind your back.

But they’re still your friends after all, and after a few more minutes you know why you love them so much. And while they should learn to mind their own business sometimes, you wouldn’t want to lose any of them.

Today

You accept the humiliation with slumped shoulders and hot tears in your eyes as you send the message to the group chat, asking who’s home and if you can come over.

Peter answers within ten seconds, telling you you can come to his place.

Your eyes now red, mascara smudged and in need of a tissue and maybe some nose spray, you show up at Peter’s door.

Peter has been your best friend for years, and you’ve seen him at his lowest as well, but you still feel embarrassed when the tears just won’t stop flowing. Concern written all over his face, he lets you in immediately.

“He… he…” you try to explain but you can’t talk with the massive lump in your throat. Peter has his arms wrapped around you in seconds, and with your face pressed against your shoulder you finally let out the sobs.

“He cheated on me,” you whisper after a few minutes when your breathing has calmed down.

Peter feels his chest tighten. He wants to cry. How could anyone do that to you? You’re the last person on earth who deserves to be cheated on.

May comes in while you’re still standing in the hallway and before you even realise she’s there, Peter softly tells her, “Not now, May.”

You lift your head at the mention of her name, and say “Hi.”

“Oh sweetheart, what happened?”

All you can do is shake your head and bury your face back into Peter’s soft hoodie.

“You want to go to my room?” Peter asks, and with your hand in his you go there, but you smile at May, knowing she’s there for you too if you need her.

You sit down on Peter’s bed where he joins you. “Sorry,” you rub your eyes and try to clear your vision from all the tears, “I don’t want to ruin your night.”

“You’re not ruining my night. I’m here for you,” he breathes, hand on your back.

He passes you a tissue and lets you sniffle and cry until you’re calm again.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?”

You nod, but as you take a deep breath to start your sentence a sob is caught in your throat. You look at Peter, at your best friend, but even he can’t help you as tears pool in your eyes again. He wraps his arms around you nevertheless and holds your hand; he feels bad that it’s all he can give you at the moment but you truly don’t know what you’d do without him.

After a few more minutes of crying and clinging on to Peter for dear life, you hear a sniffle that isn’t yours.

You turn your head to see a tear travelling down Peter’s face which he quickly wipes away when he notices you looking, “Sorry it’s just- I hate seeing you like this. I hate that he did this to you.”

For the first time in hours, you smile, remembering how much Peter loves you. You squeeze his hand that had gotten sweaty from holding yours so long and let go of him.

“Um…” you clear your throat to test if you have your voice back yet.

“It’s okay if you’re not ready to talk yet,” he says, “Do you want some water?”

You nod and he hands you a water bottle from next to his bed. You drink nearly all of it and you already feel a tiny bit better. “Let me clean this mess on my face,” you say and go to the bathroom to wash your face.

The fresh water feels good against your skin, and God knows your body needs all the hydration it can get after bawling your eyes out for so long.

When you’ve washed away the remnants of your makeup, your eyes are still red and puffy, but you feel a little fresher. You go back to Peter’s room where he’s got more water and tissues ready as well as some cozy pyjamas you always used to leave here for sleepovers. You haven’t had one of those in months and there’s a foreign but pleasant feeling in your tummy when you think of spending all day and night with Peter, sleeping in the same bed, all cuddled up…. you’re probably just all over the place from your break up though. Peter is your friend. Nothing more.

Peter doesn’t force you to tell him anything, but you figure the sooner you get it out and talk about it, the better.

With surprising ease, you just let it all out while Peter intently listens.

“So I was going to go to visit Max today at four, but I was already in his area to go shopping half an hour earlier and it wouldn’t have made sense to go back home only to come back a few minutes later. Then I went to his and I would’ve just waited outside but the front door was open and I went up to his apartment.

“Just as I reached his floor, I saw this woman. They were saying goodbye to each other and he’d told me that he had family over a few days ago so I thought…” you laugh at yourself, “God I was so stupid. I thought maybe she was his cousin, someone from his family for sure. But his eyes went wide when he saw me and this woman immediately asked who I was. So I said I was his girlfriend. And I asked who she was. She said she was his girlfriend.”

“God. That’s fucking horrible,” Peter says, and it’s like you can already see him plotting to kill your boy-- ex-boyfriend.

“Then he tried to explain himself but there wasn’t anything he could have said to save himself or make the situation any better. So me and his other girlfriend- ex girlfriend now- we both left and then I came here.”

“Wow. I can’t believe it,” He brushes a hand through his hair in frustration and blows out some air. Peter doesn’t know what to do with himself. You can tell he’s angry, his cheeks red, and he has every right to be. You’d be livid if someone hurt your best friend like that.

But he’s trying to contain himself in front of you, to keep his composure because you were already upset enough for the both of you for the last hour and you’ve just calmed down, so he doesn’t want your anger to resurge because of him.

“The worst thing is,” you continue, “He didn’t even just kiss someone else or sleep with someone else. He had a whole second relationship. Maybe there are even more, who knows. Maybe she was first, and I was the second relationship…”

Peter’s scared he won’t be able to stop once he starts talking, so he remains silent, merely shaking his head at your words.

Then you remember something. “I’m so stupid... I lost it to him. I was so sure I could trust him and that he was the right guy to have my first time with.” You look down and play with your fingers in your lap.

You didn’t want Peter to find out like this.

You never told him about having sex with Max but it never felt like there was a right moment. Talking about Max to Peter about any aspect of your relationship was weird and you avoided talking about him most times you hung out with your best friend. It never made sense to you, but it felt like you were supposed to hide Max from Peter. It felt like you were cheating on Peter by having a boyfriend, when he has never been more than your best friend.

But you’re glad that Peter reacts the way he does.

“Virginity is a social construct,” he says, immediately getting what you’re talking about, “You didn’t lose anything to him. His dick’s not important enough to change who you are.”

You smile. You taught him that. “I know. I’m just... sad.”

“That’s okay,” his hand is on your back again, and now that you’re in his arms with clear thoughts, you realise how much you missed it.

“I’m sorry if I neglected our friendship because of him. I never realised I was doing that but now that I’m here... it feels like I haven’t been here in ages. Haven’t been with you in ages.”

“It’s alright. I’m not mad at you because of it. You’re in love and I get that it was new and exciting.”

You’re glad that Peter isn’t saying I told you so. While he never directly said it, you could tell that he was suspicious of Max from the start. But even if he was right, there’s nothing you can change about the situation anymore.

“Was in love,” you correct him, “I’m still hurting but my attraction to that guy ended as soon as I found out how much he abused my trust. I mean cheating on someone - that’s one of the worst things you can do to a person you love. I don’t even think you can love someone if you think it’s okay to cheat on them. God,” you feel anger bubbling up inside you and there’s a fresh batch of tears stinging in your eyes. You try to rub them away. He doesn’t deserve your tears. He doesn’t even fucking deserve you thinking about him.

“We’re going through the stages of grief pretty quick here, huh?” Peter smiles, placing a hand on your knee and you’re breathless for a few seconds.

You manage to smile at him while your heart skips a beat.

“Uh.. um I don’t know, I’m just... I don’t know. I can’t believe it. And then I sacrificed time with my best friend to spend time with that prick instead. Please forgive me, Peter,” you look at him with pleading eyes but you see nothing but kindness on his face.

“There’s nothing to forgive. I promise it’s okay. But I’m still happy that you’re acknowledging it. Don’t get me wrong I love Ned and MJ, but you were definitely missing.” Last week was one of the few times you’ve been with your group of friends lately. You spent most of the time during your relationship being with Max, only rarely seeing your friends.

“Maybe you should get a girlfriend so I know how it feels,” you say, even though you don’t know why.

“Nah.. not interested in a girlfriend at the moment,” he shrugs.

Even though you’re heartbroken, you forget about your actual sorrows for a second now that you know Peter’s not dating anyone and you feel a sudden warmth in your belly.. and on your cheeks...

“Oh… boyfriend then?” You tease him, pretending like it wouldn’t hurt if the answer was yes.

He shakes his head. “I’m just happy that you’re back. Not that you were gone- you weren’t as bad as Ned when he got together with Betty.”

You chuckle as you remember going a whole three months without seeing Ned when he got together with his girlfriend.

A pleasant silence settles between you, and you’re simply happy to be in Peter’s presence again.

“I love you,” you tell him after a few minutes and wrap your arms around his neck in a hug. “I love you too,” he says, his mouth pressed against your shoulder.

As you part, you kiss his cheek. And again, the anger inside you is overpowered by butterflies for a few seconds. It’s only brief, and a moment later you think about that asshole again, and the fire swallows those butterflies whole. But they were there, you can’t deny it. And you’re not even surprised.

You lean your head against Peter’s shoulder, taking deep breaths, trying to relax at least a little. Peter lowers himself, and you with him, onto his bed.

He turns so you’re face to face, and you snuggle up to his soft hoodie and his warm chest, feeling the relaxation you need finally settling in.

“Thanks for being here for me.”

“Always,” he promises and hesitantly kisses your cheek too.

You fall asleep with the image of Peter’s blushing face on your mind and the promise of love.

You have a long way to go before you can even begin to heal from what your ex did to you. But you have your best friend who will love and support you throughout all of it.

And as you fall asleep next to him, you feel more comfortable and more protected than you ever did with your ex. You don’t want to rush into anything, Peter will always be there for you to love him. But now that you’re with him like this again, you realise it’s what you wanted— no, what you needed all along.

You never saw Peter as just a friend, but you were scared to even admit your feelings to yourself, let alone to him, in case you ruined this great friendship.

But now you’re not afraid anymore.

You’ll need some time to heal first, but when that’s done, you know you will finally have the courage to love Peter and to let him love you.

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no but rlly where's my new year's kiss from peter??? >:(

your new years kiss with mcu peter parker

word count: 0.3k

warnings: fluff fluff fluff

author's note: i knooooooow. it's been a hot minute since i've posted something new. i've been sick and in a slump and not in the greatest mood to write. but my inspiration is definitely there. but hey! new year. i hope i can get more work out for you all this year. anyway, hope you enjoy this short headcanon, happy new years!

peter parker masterlist | tiktok version

the two of you would be standing around with the rest of your friends and family

sparkling non-alcoholic drinks in hand and racing hearts beneath your clothes

you both had this underlying feeling for the past couple of weeks that either of you was finally going to make a move

now that it was new year’s eve, notoriously known for loved ones to share a kiss, the anticipation was killing you and peter

“crazy, huh,” you decide to speak up and gaze over at him

him in his simple geeky graphic tee that seemed a bit tighter than usual and his straight jeans

such a basic outfit of his yet it never failed to make you swoon

the excessive new year’s eve accessories around his neck and on his head brought a smile to your face

when he looks back to find you smiling at him, he couldn’t help but feel flustered

he exhales briefly and nods, “yep. definitely. couple of minutes left, right?”

the two of you make eye contact after checking the time and laugh at your synchronization

“yeah, ready?” you respond and hold up your glass

“actually, uhm. may i?” he asks and holds out his hand toward your glass

there’s about a minute left on the clock

“oh? sure, i guess,” you hand it to him, genuinely confused as to why he wanted your glass

until he answered your curiosity as he placed yours and his drink down

“c-can i kiss you? when the ball drops?” he manages to get the bold request out of his system as he motions to the tv

your eyes widen at his question and sudden change of demeanor

you feel your blood rush to your cheeks almost instantly and your stomach twist with excitement

you nod slowly, subconsciously taking a step toward him. “yes…”

“yes? as in yes, i can kiss you in literally thirty seconds?” he blurts out and places his hands on your waist

you let out a soft laugh that sounds like music to his ears and nod once again. “yes, stupid,” you murmur and wrap your arms around his neck

three

two

he gazes into your eyes before the ball drops and pulls you in close all while gently pressing his lips against yours

one

you smile into the kiss and deepen it, already more than happy with how your year started

thanks for reading, let me know what you think! tagging some mutuals :) @darlingholland @ms-misery @petershbw @ptersmj @keisdove @petersgroupie @selfcarecap @toms-gf @greenorangevioletgrass @616films @peterpparkerwrites @lovers-liability @saturnpeter @celestialholland @parkerpeter24 @vendettaparker @devotion @peterbenjiparker @lilbeatlebear @ellebutnotwoods @dhtomholland @rileybinaa @reawritesthings @bi-lmg07 @supremethunda @harry-hollands @the-girl-in-the-chair

The reader wearing Peter's clothes 🥺

a/n: here’s a little headcanon about this cuz yeah :,) also a bunch of you have been asking so i figured i’d let y’all know that yes requests are open! i’m working on a couple already but feel free to send in whatever else you’ve got <3

-

peter is thee biggest sucker for you wearing his clothes

you never have to ask to borrow because he always offers

hoodies, t-shirts, sweats, flannels

he’s more than happy to share it all

peter has a super cute nerdy-chic style that you love to steal

what can you say! your boy’s got taste

your absolute fave is his sweaters

they keep you nice n toasty and they’re so soft

peter especially loves when you wear his clothes out in public

it’s his way to let the world know he’s yours

if you’re spending the night at his place, he’ll have pj’s laid out for you

if he spends the night at yours, he’ll give you his shirt to sleep in

or leaves it behind for you the next morning :,(

he lets you keep something if you really like it

which more often than not is the case

aunt may notices peter’s loads of laundry becoming smaller every laundry day

she has a hunch as to where the clothes disappear to

peter will lend you clothes for when he goes away on missions too

he spritzes them with his cologne first

it makes them smell like him </3

anytime you can’t find an outfit, you just raid peter’s closet

it’s like having your own personal stylist

what’s his is yours!

except for the spidey suits

those are off limits… not even peter knows their full capabilities

the only thing peter loves more than you wearing his clothes is you taking them off

but

that’s a different story for a different time

Oooh s I am FEELING number 9 for flufftober with tom??? And perhaps there was some mutual pining happening... Okay also as I was reading through the prompts I was listening to "clouds" by børns which is just... such a romantic song to me and it made me so giddy while reading the prompts so I thought I'd mention it in case if gives you any inspiration :)

❀ clouds ❀

i love this song too 🥺 this is so self-indulgent (as all my drabbles are tbh) i hope you enjoy <3 this might be the best drabble i’ve ever written lmao i’m rlly proud & in love with this one :’)

prompt: (9) your first passionate kiss with a person. you touch your lips absently, feeling the phantom of your lover’s lips.

↳ actor!tom, friends to lovers, tessa holland supremacy bc i miss her & need her back in my life

word count: 1.8k

flufftober drabbles (requests closed!)

“this one kind of looks like a one-eyed bunny. a one-eyed, one-legged bunny.”

snorting, you tear your gaze away from the sky overhead and onto the man lying beside you. his hand is outstretched, index pointing to an oddly shaped cloud slowly rolling away from you, and you try your best not to stare at his flexed forearm so close to your face. a passing autumn breeze gently ruffles the brown curls smushed on his forehead, his hair unruly after an impromptu nap.

a nap you shared. which is totally normal. it’s so normal for best friends to fall asleep cuddling each other that it borders on mundane. it’s boring, even. yes, you’re so bored of falling asleep in tom’s backyard with tom’s head on your chest and tom’s dog’s head in your lap and tom’s scent lingering on your clothes from the last time you fell asleep with tom a week ago. stupid tom.

“that’s not true.” tom says, turning onto his side so he’s facing you, the movement making you reluctantly open your eyes again. “you don’t remember bobby bugs?”

“that’s not true.” tom says, turning onto his side so he’s facing you, the movement making you reluctantly open your eyes again. “you don’t remember bobby bugs?”

at the name, a loud laugh erupts from your mouth, and you hasten to slap a hand over it. “oh my god, i can’t believe i forgot him. he was your only friend before me.”

“yeah, and you’re so fucking mean, i might just dump you and buy another bunny to be my real best friend.” you giggle again as tom fake pouts, your neck hurting from being twisted to watch him.

silence falls over both of you again, interrupted only by random whines from tessa and the occasional passing car. most of tom’s neighbours are smart enough to stay inside when it’s only five degrees, whereas you both have just enough brain cells to decide laying down a picnic blanket and then laying under a couple more blankets should warm you up just fine. after all, cold and bad weather never stopped you and tom from indulging in your favourite pass-time as loud children who were often told to just go outside because you were too raucous.

you don’t remember which one of you began this tradition of cloud-watching. all you know is that your childhood memories are almost all riddled with tom’s crooked nose and chaotic curls and the large mole on his chin that is no longer there. many of these memories include spotting weirdly shaped clouds and inventing stories about them together, a habit you’ve continued well into your adolescence and haven’t begun to let go of in your twenties, either, even as one of you has become a bloody celebrity.

“ooh, i think i spot a giant raccoon.” you grin, nodding towards a particularly large cloud further away.

tom squints, sitting up to see better. the hood of his pink sweater flops with the movement, and you bite back the immature urge to shove leaves into it like you did when you were young. well, younger. you’re not proud of the side of yourself that loves stupid pranks. mouth turning into an o, tom’s expression soon breaks into a matching grin when he finds the cloud, too.

“he’s definitely got rabies.” he jokes, flopping down beside you, beam only widening when you giggle, palm clasped against your mouth. it doesn’t last long, though, the smile slowly being wiped off his face. you’re too busy staring at the burst of colours from the sunset to notice. “why do you do that?” he asks, voice suddenly monotone.

eyebrows furrowed, you look over at him. your lap grows colder when tessa gets off of you, almost like she’s sensed the awkwardness settling in and preferred to go sniffing for squirrels than to witness it. “do what?” you respond, shivering from the wind.

“you always hide your face when you laugh. like you’re ashamed of being happy.”

huh. you did not expect that. sitting up on your elbows, you scoff, “okay, i do not need you to go all walmart doctor phil on me right now. that’s the most cliché thing i’ve heard in a while, and i eavesdropped on harrison telling his girlfriend she lights up his world like nobody else this morning.”

“i’m serious, y/n.” tom snaps, sitting up again and giving you no choice but to do the same since, clearly, he’s turning this into a whole conversation. “why do you always put your hand on your face or hide behind your hair whenever you laugh?”

you sputter, not knowing how to answer such a ridiculous question. “i don’t—i don’t know. it’s just something i, and many other people, do. not everything means something. why do you always knock three times on the doorframe before you go the bathroom at night?”

“to alert any ghosts that i’m entering, obviously.” tom deadpans. “don’t change the subject. we’re talking about your insecurities and bathroom endangerment habits.”

“you’re ridiculous and i don’t like you.” you snap, lying back down and crossing your arms over your chest. “no wonder bobby bugs ran away from you. you’re annoying and you gave him the worst rabbit name ever.”

tom’s neck snaps towards you with full shock and offense, his eyes wide and lips pursed with anger. you’ve gone too far, staring right back at him with steady resolve.

“why do i love you?” he mutters under his breath, disdain coating his words like a fresh coat of pain, before he falls back into his place beside you, shoulders touching.

even though you’ve heard those three little words from tom countless times in all the years—decades, really—that you’ve been practically attached at the hips, they never fail to make a lump form in your throat and to kick your heart into overdrive. especially when he’s so close to you that your pinkies brush against each other. you hate indulging in clichés, like you remind tom all the time, and yet you’re living in the biggest trope of all time. falling in love with your best friend wasn’t a realisation or a sudden crush leading to longing looks and timid touches. no, you don’t think you even fell in love with tom. there was no falling, no tripping, no moment in your friendship before you loved him. being in love with tom was simply a part of you, a facet of your personality with how long you’ve loved him, and you can’t imagine being y/n without loving tom.

quiet settles in again, the strain between you and your best friend lessening but not disappearing. you’re in the midst of convincing yourself that the only way to avoid this becoming a real fight is to just get up and pretend you’re hungry or thirsty or need to pee or anything that lets you stop your hand from inching towards tom’s, when he speaks up.

“i think you’re beautiful when you laugh.” tom says, gaze trained on the gradually darkening sky. it’s no longer a bright pink, but a fuchsia with sparks of orange, awaiting the deep blue of the nighttime.

your heart thuds to a stop in your chest, lungs expanding with air that you can’t seem to exhale.

“and when you smile,” he adds, tugging down the sleeves of his sweatshirt until they cover his fingers. “and when you snort when i say or do something stupid, when you squeal when i tickle you. when you glare at me for eating the last brownie. when you’re drooling on the couch while watching deadly women like it’s not supposed to be a little alarming to me i live with a woman who likes to learn about female serial killers to wind down after work.”

you crack, a breathless laugh escaping your throat, and tom takes that as his sign to lean on his elbow, face hovering over yours. there’s enough space between you not to be completely overwhelming, but you still find yourself drawn into his honeyed eyes and the splattering of freckles beneath them.

“i think you’re beautiful all the fucking time, y/n/n.” tom whispers, the wind tousling the curls on his forehead. “it kills me when you don’t see the beauty in yourself. like you’re trying to convince others not to fall in love with you when you’re at your happiest. but it’s far too late to do that with me.”

your breath hitches loudly in your throat, eyes as wide as saucers when tom leans in just a bit closer. hesitantly, you raise your hand to cup his cool cheek, thumb rubbing over its apple. the corner of his mouth quirks up in a minuscule smile, brown eyes flickering from yours to your lips. when you nod and lick them, he closes the gap between you, and you finally feel like you’re plummeting. all these years you’ve loved tom so much it felt like your heart was constantly bursting, and now, you’ve let yourself stumble off the edge—now, you’ve let yourself go. you know now that he’ll catch you.

tom kisses you softly at first, lightly rubbing your lips together, before your fingers travel to his hair. when you tug a little, he groans into your mouth, tongue flicking out to lick your bottom lip. you kiss for what feels like hours, indulging in each others’ touches and moans, until tessa’s loud barking interrupts you.

breaking apart, tom sits up properly, looking over to see his dog with her head stuck in a hole in the wooden fence separating his backyard from the neighbour’s. the laughter that befalls both of you is loud and disbelieving, bringing with it sparkly eyes and light stomach cramps. breathless from tessa’s comedy act and the kiss that propelled you off a bridge, you run your finger over your lips absent-mindedly as tom gets up to help her out.

he looks over at you, still sprawled under the blankets in a daze, and grins. “you wanna go back inside and get a drink?” he asks, patting tessa’s head once it pops back into the correct yard.

“will you kiss me again?” you blurt out, pinching yourself on the inside for being so utterly tactless.

tom laughs again, the sound like music to your ears. his grin is blinding and you’d let him to your heart and sight all at once if he would ask. “i’ll kiss you any time you want for the rest of our lives if you’ll have me, love.”

drunken nights

pairing: tom holland x reader

synopsis: drunk tom keeps you on your toes.

word count: 0.6k

warnings: mentions of alcohol

a/n: the love i recieved on my first post was incredible and more than i ever expected so thank u! hope u like this one <33

"see you later!" you call out as you watch your friend walk toward their car. you decided to invite them over since tom was out at the pub tonight. having company over was a common occurrence for you whenever he went out.

after locking the door, you make your way over to the lounge to eagerly await your boyfriend and his antics.

a phone call awakens you from your slumber. you realize that you had drifted off to sleep as you check your phone. it's harry.

you pick up with a groggy "hello?"

"hey, y/n. we're parked outside, come get your lover boy." harry teases. "alright, i'm on my way out," you chuckle after hearing harry scold his older brother.

stepping out into the crisp london air, you make your way over to the car, opening the passenger door to a very drunk tom. "y/n!" tom exclaims as he struggles to take off his seat belt.

"you guys have fun?" you ask harry in the driver's seat. "oh, loads." he playfully rolls his eyes as he looks over at his brother.

seeing tom struggle, you question, "how much did you have to drink?”

"i might have had a few beers." tom sighs while looking up as if he has any recollection of the past couple hours.

"yeah right," the younger brother scoffs.

giggling, you turn to look at harry, "thanks for bringing him home."

"anytime." he says with a smile.

"good luck with that one," harry says smugly as tom stumbles out of the car.

"hey, tom. you ready to go?" you ask as he wraps his arms around your waist. "yeah, i think so." he murmurs.

you chuckle as you bring the stumbling man to your front door, both you and tom stopping to wave back at harry.

"i missed you so much while i was out." tom coos as you open the front door. tom was an affectionate drunk, always reminding you of how pretty you are. not that he doesn’t tell you every time he sees you.

"i missed you too, tommy."

it was a struggle to get him up the stairs, tripping over himself every couple steps. and as soon as the door to your shared bedroom was opened, tom threw himself onto the bed with a groan.

picking out a change of clothes for him, you ask "need help changing?"

he sits up, a playful look now adorns his face. "yes, pleaseee." he drags out.

"shirt off." you say nonchalantly.

"ask me out on a date first, yeah?" he teases as he swiftly takes off the white shirt.

as you help him change, you can't help but notice him staring at you. "what are you thinking about, tommy?"

"we would make an amazing couple." he slurs slightly.

letting out a soft laugh, you straddle his lap, "we're already a couple, you dork." you run your hands through his now unruly curls.

tom's eyes light up at the thought. it amuses you seeing the gears in this drunken man's head turn. "oh, thank god." he sighs.

as soon as your gaze falls on his, the room becomes quiet and his eyes now lustful, "darling, you're a dream." your breath hitches as soon as the words leave his mouth. his hand comes up to softly graze your cheek.

with a smirk, he whispers a gentle, "what's wrong, baby? do i take your breath away?"

realizing what he's doing, you roll your eyes and say, "you're such a tease when you're drunk."

huffing, you climb off his lap and crawl under the covers.

"c'mon darling, you know you like it." he says and quickly follows your actions.

instinctively, tom wraps his arms tightly around your waist.

sleepily locking eyes with yours, he mumbles "it's a privilege being yours, y/n."

you swear this man gives you whiplash.