since we’re alone ☁️🎻 sometimes all you need is your favorite half spider, half nerd to lighten up your bad days
jump scare ☁️💌 you can sneak up on peter and jump scare him. He is so in love with you that his spider sense doesn’t even recognize you as a threat
a film by peter parker ☁️💌 peter’s having the most boring summer of his life- that is until he meets you and you both discover your love for movies and each other
little lune - it’s your birthday and harrison is set to make it as special as possible ☁️
haz fic recs can be found here and here
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i dont know if i’m going to write for tom but if i do i’ll add a section to the masterlist but for now you can look through some fic recs by other really talented writers!
summary: when peter tries to admit his feelings for you and ask you on a date while your father is away, things suddenly dont go as planned and your father’s hologram catches you.
warnings: none!
word count: 2.3k
Peter knew it was a bad idea, But he couldn’t help it.
Liking you — falling for you — was probably the dumbest thing he’d ever done. And he had done a lot of dumb things. Accidentally webbed himself to a moving train. Tried to fight an alien invasion with a half-charged suit. Tripped over Captain America’s shield during training.
But this? You?
This was a whole new kind of disaster.
Because you weren’t just anyone. You were you — Tony Stark’s daughter. The only person on the planet who somehow managed to be more terrifying, brilliant, and beautiful than your father all in one. You were magnetic in a way Peter didn’t stand a chance against. Funny without trying. Wicked smart. Eyes that saw right through him. Lips that curved into a smirk every time he got flustered — which was a lot.
And God, you were the prettiest girl he had ever seen.
That kind of pretty that made him forget to blink. That made him short-circuit mid-sentence when you leaned over his shoulder in the lab or ruffled his hair when he was sulking. That kind of pretty that wasn’t just surface — it was woven into your voice, your laugh, the way you looked at him like he mattered.
And for a long time, he’d convinced himself it was fine. That he could just ignore it. That it was safer that way. Because Mr. Stark — Tony — had made it very clear how he felt about the idea of Peter getting anywhere near his daughter.
“I don’t want someone like you dragging her into this life,” he’d said once. Not cruel. Just firm. “She deserves normal. Stability. And you? You wear grief and danger like a second skin.”
And Peter… got it.
He did. He knew what it meant to live this life. He knew what it cost. He knew about responsibility. Sacrifice. Late nights, near-death experiences, and the weight of saving people who never knew your name.
But it didn’t stop how he felt. Not when you were around.
Especially not when you teased him the way you did.
When you sat beside him during team briefings and quietly passed him gum like he was going to combust under pressure. When you called him out in front of the team just to make him squirm, then winked at him after like it was your own private joke. When you stayed up late helping him fix his web shooters, fingers brushing over his every now and then, warm and steady and undeniably distracting.
It drove him insane — in the best, most excruciating way.
And tonight was no different.
The living room was quiet now — most of the team had scattered after dinner. Bucky and Sam were still bickering down the hall, and Wanda had disappeared with Vision, promising tea and calm. But here, on the couch, it was just Peter and you.
You sprawled across the cushions like you owned the place — which, okay, technically you did. Your legs were kicked up over the armrest, your top hitched up just enough to send Peter’s brain spiraling.
He sat beside you, tense and awkward, palms damp against his jeans. You flipped through the channels like none of it mattered, completely at ease.
“Wanda’s a goddess,” you sighed, settling on a rerun of something animated and ridiculous. “If I had her cooking powers, I’d be unstoppable.”
“You’re already kinda unstoppable,” Peter said, voice a little too high. “I mean — not like witch unstoppable — but you don’t really need paprika to be, uh, impressive. Or— yeah.”
You looked over at him, smirking. “Did you just compare me to paprika?”
Panic. “No! I mean, maybe? Not— not like a spice! I meant like, you’re— you know— great! Without the spice! Not that you’re bland, just—”
“Peter,” you said with a quiet laugh, “breathe.”
His mouth shut instantly, face flushing pink.
You tilted your head toward him, your teasing smile fading into something softer. The glow from the TV flickered across your face, casting shadows Peter was sure even the stars were jealous of. It was a moment — one of those this is it, do it now kind of moments.
So he swallowed his nerves and sat up a little straighter.
“I’ve, uh… I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” he started, scratching the back of his neck.
You quirked a brow, still watching him. “Finally confessing you stole my charger two months ago?”
“What? No! I mean, yes — but I was gonna return it! I just— I meant—”
You laughed, and it nearly broke him. He’d never get used to how beautiful you looked when you smiled.
“I was gonna say,” Peter said quickly, voice cracking just slightly, “I was wondering if you’d want to go out with me sometime?”
There. He said it. He actually said it.
His heart was racing. His whole body felt like it was vibrating from the inside out. He stared at you, half-expecting you to laugh or call him cute in that “oh sweetie” way you sometimes did when he was being awkward.
But you didn’t. You smiled — not teasing, not sarcastic, just… warm.
“Peter—” you started.
And then—
The TV blinked.
Static crackled.
The lights dimmed just slightly.
And suddenly — there he was.
Tony Stark.
In full holographic glory, projected in front of the screen like a ghost conjured by sarcasm and spite.
Peter’s blood ran cold.
“Peter Benjamin Parker,” the hologram said, voice sharp and clipped. “Step away from my daughter.”
Peter nearly died.
“Oh my God,” you groaned, dragging a hand down your face. “Dad. Seriously?”
“I anticipated this,” Holo-Tony continued, ignoring you completely. “Exactly this. The minute you started ‘accidentally’ dropping by the tower three times a week, I initiated Protocol Stark #4.”
Peter’s mouth opened. Closed. Opened again. “I— this isn’t— I wasn’t— I mean, I was, but not like that—!”
“Do you have any idea,” Tony’s voice cut in like a guillotine, “how many high-level defense protocols I created to prevent this exact scenario? Hormone-fueled superheroes flirting with my daughter? Twelve. I built twelve.”
The hologram turned to look directly at Peter, as if it could somehow smell his panic.
“This is Protocol Stark #4: Don’t Even Think About It, Kid.”
Peter actually whimpered.
You were trying not to laugh, but failing miserably now. You shoved a pillow in your face to muffle the sound, shoulders shaking.
“I—I swear, sir, I wasn’t trying anything—well, I was, but—” Peter stopped himself. “Not like that! I respect her! And you! I mean—I respect her more obviously, not that I don’t respect you—”
“Kid,” the hologram cut in flatly. “Take a breath before you pass out and I have to activate Protocol #6: CPR from Hulk.”
Peter blinked. “That’s… not real, right?”
The hologram flickered slightly.
“…Maybe.”
Holographic Tony stood in front of the TV, glitching slightly at the edges, arms crossed, sunglasses on despite it being nighttime in New York. Somewhere behind him in the projection, palm trees and a luxury resort were just barely visible.
Peter froze. You dragged a hand over your face and let out the deepest sigh he’d ever heard from a human being.
Tony Stark tilted his head, calm and smug as ever. “Sweetheart, you know I run surprise protocol checks when I’m on vacation. You’re lucky I didn’t send the Mark 49.”
You gestured wildly at the screen. “You’re supposed to be on a getaway with Mom!”
“I am. She’s in the spa. I’m doing security sweeps. You know — relaxing.”
Peter looked like he was physically trying to sink into the couch cushions.
“I swear,” you muttered, “this is why we can’t have nice things.”
You groaned and turned to Peter. “Do not move. You’re not running away.”
“I wasn’t gonna run—” he whispered. “I was maybe gonna, like… web-launch out the window. Casually.”
You rolled your eyes and looked back at the screen. “Dad, seriously?”
Tony sighed dramatically. “Look. It’s not that I don’t like Peter.”
Peter blinked. “Wait, really?”
“I said it’s not that I don’t like you. I didn’t say I do like you.”
“Oh. That… yeah, that checks out.”
“It’s that I’ve spent years keeping my daughter out of the line of fire. And you, my kid, are a walking magnet for building collapses, supervillains, and emotionally repressed wizards. I don’t want her caught in that.”
You cut in, arms crossed. “I help you build suits. I literally write code for the Tower’s defense systems. I helped reprogram F.R.I.D.A.Y. last month to keep Peter from faceplanting off the 46th floor.”
“Still fell, though,” Tony said, looking off-screen.
“Because you turned off my webbing mid-air to test a reflex protocol!” Peter blurted.
Tony shrugged. “I had faith.”
You threw your arms up. “So what is this? The jealous dad on a tropical beach pulling security holograms every time a boy gets within five feet of me?”
“Yes,” Tony said immediately. “That’s exactly what this is.”
You looked down at your StarkPad, already typing. “Initiating manual override of Hologram Protocol #4…”
“Don’t you dare—”
“Voice authorization: I’m an adult, and Peter hasn’t even kissed me yet.”
Peter choked.
Tony’s sunglasses slipped slightly down his nose. “What did she just say?”
You pressed one final key. The hologram flickered.
“Love you, Dad. Go drink something with a tiny umbrella in it.”
And just like that, the hologram vanished with a high-pitched glitch and a long beep.
Peter stared at you, shell-shocked. “…He’s going to murder me when he gets back.”
“He’s not,” you said, leaning into his side with a sly smile. “Not if I get to you first.”
Peter blinked. “Wait— is that a threat or a date?”
You tilted your head. “Why not both?”
He flushed scarlet.
“So…” he said, cautiously hopeful. “That yes from earlier? Still valid?”
You reached over, slid your fingers into his. “Absolutely.”
Peter exhaled like he’d been holding his breath for five months.
“You’re sure? No retracting? No drones? No flaming swords?”
You grinned. “Just dinner, dork.”
He smiled back, slow and bright. “Cool. That’s— that’s really cool.”
A pause.
“…Should I be worried about Protocol #5?”
You nodded. “Oh, 100%. That one’s face-scanning and armed.”
Peter looked vaguely ill.
“Worth it though,” you said softly, resting your head on his shoulder.
authors note: hi!!!!!! i’m back!!!!!! i know it’s been a criminally long time since i posted something but i really love this and hope you love it to :) if you do please leave a comment and/or reblog. likes are so nice but actual feeback really encourages me to post and makes me feel like it’s not just bots liking my posts lol. as always my reader can be of any height, weight, or race pls let me know if any of the language used is isolating.
prompt: A and B are casual college friends when the holiday season rolls around. A plans to go home to their luxurious life but decides to stay when B tells them they can’t go home for christmas. A decides to keep B company and give them the most amazing christmas ever.
word count: 6.4k
upcoming content: fluff!! mentions of financial issues
series masterlist | full masterlist
the snow seemed to be falling in time with the clock ticking, noting every passing second that your professor went on and on about something Austen, something Shakespeare. london quickly became a blanket of white, the flusters blanketing the entire city in frost. your stare was glued to the window, your professor totally drowned out as your pen lightly tapped against the blank notebook page. it was a shame it really was, that you couldn’t pay attention because you were hoping that English lit would be the distraction that could keep your mind off the upcoming holiday season that was destined to be spent holed up in your studio apartment, props to student affiliated housing that came in your scholarship, with holiday movies lightly playing in the background of your wallowing.
a slight wave passed through your glance but your brain disregarded it, you’d get the notes from someone anyways. it wasn’t until it happened two, three times that you managed to blink out of your dazed state and look in the direction of whatever brought you back to reality. directly across from you sat niall horan. leaned back in his seat, subtly just enough to keep him out of view from the professor. his big blue eyes quirked at you as he mouthed “you okay?” it was hard to not get lost in his gaze like you did earlier but you had more self-conscious this time and just nodded, sitting up and facing the board, robotically writing down whatever the professor was saying even if it had no context. despite that, his stare lingered and it took everything in you to not snap your eyes back.
niall horan. you didn't even know why he was taking English lit in the first place if he was here for football, but he was… and he wasn’t doing the best. which resulted in him rushing up to you one day during the second week of classes and spitting out his begging for tutoring as fast as he possibly could. you were so startled you agreed without really thinking about anything other than increasing the amount of space between you because the wall of spiced cologne mixed with what you think is vanilla on some days when you get lost in a daydream, and sweat, and just him, took over your senses. along with his large hands outstretched toward you in a plea. “r-really?” he asked, an incredulous look passing over his face as his george elliot book that was just passed out to everyone dropped from his grip. you opened your mouth but quickly snapped it shut, just nodding at him. his gape turned into a smile, and a glint entered his eye that reminded you of the one you saw in the reflection of the charm on the old necklace you thought you lost. “how could i be so lucky?”
“oh wow, that’s great! thank you so much! okay, so… i can give ya my number and we can discuss when to meet? or you can send me your schedule like? honestly, whatever works for you.” he said, pulling a pen out of one pocket and rummaging through his other for what you assume was a piece of paper.
“oh wow, that’s great! thank you so much! okay, so… i can give ya my number and we can discuss when to meet? or you can send me your schedule like? honestly, whatever works for you.” he said, pulling a pen out of one pocket and rummaging through his other for what you assume was a piece of paper.
“oh here,” you spoke, reaching around to unzip your bag and tear a piece of your notebook, but suddenly your head whipped around at the feeling of your hand engulfed in his. before you knew it his name was scrawled in loopy handwriting against your wrist, along with his phone number. the sight of his long fingers against your skin was the final push of this situation going from odd to overwhelming so you looked up and straight ahead, only to see a lighter-haired boy smack his forehead with his palm at the sight of you both. you recognized him as sean mullholland, having seen him and niall together often.
“alright, just message me whenever! whenever you have time! but not too late y’know? i really can’t afford to fail this next exam.”
you opened your mouth again and just found yourself nodding, watching as his head tilted at the repeated action. god he probably thought you were fucking mute. “i- i mean yeah, no problem.”
the confusion on his face quickly turned to one of relief and pure gratitude. “thanks so much! so i guess i’ll see ya around.” he said, and with a final smile he turned and walked back to his friend.
“wait… niall!” you called, noticing his book was still on the ground.
he spun around quickly, “yeah?”
“your book, you’ll need it… y’know for the test.” his eyes widened as you bent down to pick it up, his shoes quickly coming into our eye line as he reached for it, but it was already in your hold.
“aw, jesus, ‘m already messing up. thanks, thanks again.” the trepidation in his voice was a large contrast to who he was, or who you thought he was to be more accurate. you saw him every day in class talking to his friends with a smile on his face, and he was part of the university's football team so his name was overheard in conversation often, along with his picture or him with other members of the team in the school’s newspaper. he seemed to be regularly happy, confident. and that’s without the fact that he was… quite handsome, in your opinion. and the opinion of many people on campus. i mean, it’s just undeniable. thick brown hair that would fall across his forehead, that would sometimes curl by the ears if he hadn’t cut it in a while, paired with a perfectly sculpted nose and the smallest hoop earrings that were so endearing you thought about them all day when you first noticed them. but the kicker was the oceans he kept behind his irises. seeing him nervous before you, both hands gripping his book like a stress ball lessened some of your initial intimidation.
“you’re gonna be okay, niall.” you said simply, looking up at him through your lashes, keeping your face as blank as possible. he looked down at you, eyes tracking every inch of your face and it involuntarily heated up. it was as if he was searching for a lie, but he didn’t seem to find it.
“yeah, yeah.” he remarked, hand going up to scratch at his neck as he dropped his eyes to the ground. he started walking back to his friend, but backward this time so he was still facing you. “hopefully. thanks again, really, i’ll see you around?”
you raised your wrist revealing his name and number still printed there with a smile that he replicated and sent you a nod of approval and disappeared around a corner, allowing you to let out an immense breath.
that was six weeks ago, and you’re now halfway through the semester. you’ve met with niall dozens of times already, holed up in a study room in the back of the library. you’ve learned a lot about him: how he takes his coffee, that he’s color blind, that his favorite band is the eagles and he saw them when he was four and that’s why he learned how to play the guitar, you couldn’t think about that one for a long time because it made you lightheaded, and that he was “well off” as he’d put it, but the soft, cashmere cardigans he always wore and the vintage car that was parked outside proved he was more than,
“when me ma and da got divorced she moved here to london and started her own business, she’s worked really hard for a long time, to send me to school and stuff ya know?” he revealed once, during a late night study session turned game of twenty questions. he was always doing that, studying for an hour then getting bored or burnt out and asking you questions or digging through your bag to find the snacks you hide in the back pocket. when you caught him the first few times he would wipe his mouth with the back of his hand and shove your bag away, now he just sends you a smirk and pull the cellophane baggie out for easier access.
you would consider him a friend. he’s carried the title of your crush as your roommate would put it, but it all sounded too childish, too middle school, it didn’t sum up the uniqueness of how he made you feel, how no one had made you feel before. along with tingly fingers and a rapidly beating heart, he also made you feel a tad… jealous. you could relate that your parents also worked really hard for a long time to send you to university but if it wasn’t for the scholarship you got, you definitely wouldn’t be here in the heart of england studying literature with some of the best professors in the world.
bitter sadness crept into your heart as you snapped your notebook shut and placed it in your bag, class ending was just another sign of time moving on and the closer christmas came where you would have to be here, in a new continent all alone because your parents couldn’t afford a plane ticket to get you home and back in time for classes again.
walking out of class, a presence you became all too familiar with loomed behind you, you could recognize him based on the feeling of the hairs on your neck sticking up. he didn’t make you nervous anymore, but the nerves that turned into feelings of longing seemed worse, in your opinion. “hey ya” he spoke, voice low and accent thick.
“hey, niall.”
the two of you walked in step for a few beats before he started up again, “i- i just wanted to see if ya were alright like… you seemed a little spaced out there for a sec, thought ya were checking me out with how ya were staring at me but-”
“oh god i’m so sorry niall, i wasn’t- i- i wasn’t staring at you i just… i just got lost in my head!” you exclaimed with wide eyes, of course you dazed out staring directly at him, unblinking and dead-eyed, you wanted the floor to fall from underneath you. but all he did was laugh, joyful and boisterous, pale cheeks tinting red with emotion.
“no need t’apologize darling, quite like it when ya look at me anyways,” he smirked.
you rolled your eyes, refusing to let yourself take his banter as anything more than what it was. “well… us both being distracted is going to make tomorrow’s tutoring a bitch then huh?”
he laughed again and nodded, “yup! but we’ll figure it out together, right?”
“of course” you replied, with a smile that didn’t really reach your eyes but you couldn’t bring any more positivity out of yourself, the homesickness was too powerful.
his cerulean iris’s tracked down your face, as they always seemed to do when you found yourselves in these little staring matches. “y’sure you’re okay? we can skip tonight if ya want.”
“no, i’m okay. anyways, like you said, we need to teach each other the material.”
“yeah… well, i’ll be there usual time, kay?” with a nod you went your separate ways and you began the ten-minute walk to your apartment.
“hey! oh, watch out!” your roommate cried as you nearly tripped over an overstuffed duffle bag.
“sorry! i was going to move it, but then i just got all wrapped up!” she cried from her cross-legged position on the floor, hands sticky with tape and clumps of discarded wrapping paper sat around her.
“it’s okay… do you want any help with that?” you offered, kicking your shoes off. she nodded vigorously and you both dissolved into laughter.
“thanks so much, i don’t know why wrapping is so hard! i mean… i love when the scissors do the glidey thingy against the paper, literally so satisfying right? but after that i realize i cut off too much or too little and then i tear it when i try and fold it and it’s just all going to hell!”
you just nodded and measured out an appropriate piece of wrapping paper for the doll box and slid the scissors against the dotted lines, folding the ends into triangles and holding them down, allowing her to stick the tapes on the end. “i’ll do the actual wrapping, you man the tape.”
“perfect.”
the two of you sat for around ten minutes, creating a decent-sized stack of neatly wrapped boxes. “do you wanna watch a movie later? we can watch the holiday episodes of that cartoon you like.”
“i’d love to but i have to meet niall later for tutoring.”
“ahh, still teaching the football star how to read then?”
you rolled your eyes with a laugh, “he knows how to read! cut him some slack, shakespeare is hard for anyone.”
“tell me about it, i barely passed when i took this class last year.”
“so yeah, i’ll be gone for about an hour or so. when do you head home?”
“i’ll be at the train station tomorrow around two, then i should be home at like six, i’ll keep you updated though.”
you nodded approvingly. your roommate was from england, but lived a while away from london. you’d seen pictures of the quaint countryside home she grew up in and it reminded you of a storybook.
“you know… my offer still stands. we can totally just buy you a ticket now and you can spend the holidays with me. it’ll be fun, i promise! we have the spare room and my parents already love you for getting my calculus grade from a D to a B!”
you just laughed again, dismissing her offer once more. “i appreciate it but really, i’ll be fine here, i swear. i’m not just saying that, i just… even with your family, i’m still going to feel lonely, if that makes sense. i just don’t think i’d be able to enjoy myself, and then i’d just beat myself up all over again for not being in the moment”
she nodded understandingly, “i get that.”
“don’t worry, really, have a good time! and i’ll have a bunch of cookies here for you when you get back.”
“ugh! that’s what i’m going to miss the most while i’m away!” she groaned and started packing the presents away in her bag.
the time rolled around when you had to go meet niall so with a quick goodbye you laced your shoes and head out the door. your arms wrapped around yourself as your sweater did little to block out the frost. with quick steps you hurried inside the library, allowing the slight heat to relax your muscles.
the peace that came with the library only lasted a few moments as the familiar clambering of niall’s entrance began, the boy could never be quiet. twisting past chairs and shelves, donned in his football kit, he pressed his face against the small window sending you a grin that made his cheeks push up. you smiled up at him and unlocked the door.
“‘ello darlin’, sorry ‘m late, practice ran long” he breathed out, collapsing into the plastic chair beside you, resting his head against your shoulder, catching his breath. this wasn’t the first time he showed up from practice, but he hadn’t ever invaded your space like this. it was impossible to not get lost in his scent or his panting breaths fanning your skin and his shorts exposing and stretching out against his thighs.
“woo! needed to catch my breath! got ya all sweaty, sorry.” he whipped his towel in your face, making you scrunch your nose up. he giggled and did it a few more times until you yanked it out of his hands.
“niall.” you said sternly.
“yes.” he repeated in the same tone.
“we need to study or not have a towel fight!”
“right, right. maybe another day then.”
you both started taking out your books and laptops. “we have so much stuff lined up for another day, don’t we?” it’s what you guys would say whenever you got distracted by some random activity.
“oh yeah, this towel contest comes after our who can eat the most cookies contest and me teaching ya how to play football, right?”
you giggled and he felt his smile widen and the tips of his ears turn red. “god, i’m gonna be so awful.”
he scoffed and shook his head, “‘m sure ya won’t be! and even if y’are, i’ll be your coach! and y’know i’m pretty fucking good if say so myself!” he tipped his head back with his nose in the air. you laughed again, he always made you laugh.
“i dunno ni, i saw that yellow card!”
“don’t bring up the yellow card!” you said at the same time
“i- i don’t know what you want me to say! why’d you get a yellow card?” you teased, watching him grow annoyed at the penalty he got at last weeks game.
“that was a stupid call and you know it! you know that ref hates me! that shite was so fucking stupid.”
“i know, i know, i’m just teasing ya.”
“yer mean when you wanna be, darling! do people know that?”
“nope! i have a very carefully curated my english major image.”
niall kicked the chair back so it rested on its back two legs as he threw his arms behind his head. you always marveled at the way he took up so much space. or maybe that was just how you saw him. he peered down at you as you packed up your things. niall loved these secret moments where he could just bask in observing you. the tremors running up his fingers was a sensation he was used to, as they twitched by his side with the urge to brush your hair out your face. this happened often, the first time he was taken aback, shaking off the unfamiliar feelings, but it was already out of his control. the day he clamored towards you, his being became yours. his courage had yet to follow, though. so for now, he settled for the moments he could make the heat rise to your cheeks.
“niall?” you drawled slowly, taking in his half-lidded gaze. he blinked a few times and cursed himself for getting lost in his daydreams.
“s-sorry darling, what were ya saying?”
“oh nothing, just if you have anything exciting planned for the break?”
“oh yeah! my brother just had a baby, wee little thing, so me ma and dad and i are flying to ireland to go spend christmas with them. theo’s first christmas and all that!”
“i didn’t know you were an uncle, ni.”
“yeah, a few months ago” he said, showing you a photo of him cradling a tiny baby in his arms and you couldn’t stop the awe that escaped you
“niall that is literally the cutest thing i’ve ever seen!”
“awe thanks babe, yer pretty cute too” he said, throwing his arm around you, dissolving into laughter as you rolled your eyes.
“i’m talking about the baby and you know it”
“whatever ya say!” he quirked an eyebrow up at you and you mirrored his smile.
“well, it sounds like you have a great couple of weeks ahead of you.” you replied, turning away from him and starting to fiddle with your worn copy of Hamlet, little pieces of the page edges flaking off.
“hmm yeah… i mean i hope so, you know how it can be, family drama and all that.”
the way his tone sloped into something melancholic before he lifted it up again “what about you?”
you took a deep breath, words stuck in your throat. you knew niall came from money, lots of people on campus did, and a lot of people didn’t. no one really cares. you knew you had no reason to be embarrassed, you earned your spot here just like, or even more so than anyone else, plus it was college, not high school, and there weren’t any bullies or rumors. but it was easier to say that logic than shake off the insecurity that crept up your spine whenever your differences came to light. the period of silence followed by people awkwardly backtracking to take back their words about their new things or vacations as if they offended you. it didn’t at all, as long as people were nice, you didn’t care how much or how little money they had. but it was still embarrassing and niall heightened all your feelings by just being him. you figured the best thing to do was just be honest and casual, if you didn't make it a big deal then he wouldn’t either.
“oh… i’m just staying here.”
“what?” niall let out, the chair falling forward so the front legs hit the floor with a resounding clang.
you squeezed your eyes shut, so there was that whole casual plan down the drain,
“yeah…” you murmured, not really knowing what to say.
“why?” he asked. a voice far in the back of his head that sounded all too much like his da or mully was telling him to shut the fuck up and mind his business, but the image of you spending the holidays all alone, and you often complained about how shotty the dorms heating was, so you’d most likely be cold too, was very troubling for him.
you pulled at the adjusting strap of your bookbag, twisting it around your fingers. you took another deep breath, you were an adult and niall was your friend and any comments about your situation would reflect more on him than you is what you told yourself as you finally looked over at his wide eyes and lips slightly parted, concern written across his features.
“well,” you began, silently curing yourself as you turned your head again, the weight of his stare was too much to bear. “it’s just- kinda expensive to like get a flight home and back in time for classes again.”
and there it was, the silence that you tried so hard to avoid. the silence of people trying to scramble for the right words to say, as if they could offer up the perfect solution when it was just life.
niall felt the silence eating away at the two of you, feeding off the palpable energy. “say something, anything” his brain shouted.
“come with me” what?
“what?” your head snapped up.
“c-come with me… if you want.” his brain was still trying to make sense of his sudden invitation, but it felt right in his heart.
“no niall. i can’t.”
“why not?”
you sighed, your body tired of having this conversation with your roommate the week prior. “niall you just told me about all your plans, with your entire family and their newborn baby. i’m not gonna crash that.”
“y’won’t be crashing! i swear! mully’ll be there, he ain’t family!” he was drawing at straws and you both knew it, but it seemed his heart sent him on a mission.
“sean mullholland? you mean your best friend since you were five? that’s not the same.”
his palms grew damp as he wiped them against the polyester shorts. he couldn’t stomach the idea of you being alone. not when you could be with him. something sick licked at his chest at the news that you couldn’t be with your family. he was devastated for you, having coaxed many crazy childhood stories from you when he managed to carve out a break from studying. but he very much wanted you all to himself. outside of the four walls of the library study room, and this was his chance.
“well yes, but, it’s not-”
you sent him a sad smile, putting your arm through one of your bag straps. he hadn’t even realized you packed up.
“you’re sweet niall, but seriously, it’s gonna be fine. it’s not a big deal. you said and honestly, you’ve been saying that so much over the past few days that you were starting to believe it. you just wanted the holidays to be over at this point.
niall threw his bag over his shoulder and followed you out of the library. the cool wind hit your skin as you pulled your sweater sleeves down your hands. niall was bounding down the street, wracked with nervous energy. he was counting down the days until christmas but now it was coming too fast. as was your residency hall. “b-but… don’t you want to spend time with me? i mean, hanging out with me for the holidays won’t be so bad.” he murmured and you stopped in your tracks. it took you back to the day you first met, the vulnerability. he looked down at you, his big blue eyes glistening with gold flecks.
the two of you spent time together outside of studying every now and then, but rarely jus the two of you, and never outside of school, save for that one time he rescued you from a bad date last season. his car picked up the autumn leaves as he spotted you walking home, miles from the school, eyes full of unshed tears. it was the first and only time you ever sat in his car, the leather seats and his comforting words cushioning you after a terrible night.
ever since then, things between you shifted.
“of course that doesn’t sound bad at all. i just… you don’t need to feel bad for me, okay? and we’ve never really hung out outside of school before yknow? i wouldn’t want to make it awkward. besides, it’s one christmas, spend a good time with your nephew, uncle niall.” you joked pulling out your keys. niall’s chest deflated as he nodded.
“you did good today, ni. you’re gonna be fine on the next exam.” you spoke, before sending him a smile and closing the door behind you.
always so nice, he thought. that’s what you are. nice. smart. funny. beautiful. his system was overwhelmed with feelings for you. the idea that he made you feel bad killed him. he heard enough from his friends that he needed to man up and just ask you out already, that he was going to lose his chance. niall sighed as he walked into his apartment, mully sprawled out on the couch, suitcases packed by the front door. “oi mate, how’d the reading lessons go? y'know the alphabet yet?” he called, eyes not leaving the screen.
“almost, lad.” niall replied half-heartedly.
“”aye, what’s wrong? did you do bad?” mully asked, looking over the couch at his friend. growing up with niall, mully quickly learned that he was one of the funniest people he’s ever met, and also that he was very sensitive.
niall sat down beside him and told him about your situation and tried to explain his feelings that he couldn’t fully admit to himself.
“well why don’t you just stay here, then?” mully offered.
“what?”
“i dunno, just stay here for christmas, or just move your flight and fly in christmas eve instead of this weekend with me. you can have yer alone time and do a bunch of romantic shit.”
niall began to think about it, his earlier dread melting away. “that could work but i think yer forgetting that i can barely speak around her, mate! what would i even do?”
“i don’t fucking know! just give her a nice christmas, pull out all the stops! lord knows you can afford it.” mully remarked.
“yeah, yeah… you’re right! this is good, this is gonna be good.” niall said, jumping off the couch.
“where ya going?” mully called.
“i have to start planning!”
it was december 20th and break had started four days ago. it wasn’t so bad at first. the first day of coming home to an empty apartment was relaxing. it was nice being able to take a long shower and cook leaving the kitchen as messy as you wanted. the second day was the same as well, playing your music as loud as you wanted and putting on your favorite cartoon for hours then pigging out some more. it was the third day when it started to get old. your younger brother had been calling you every hour with whatever new development happened at home and you appreciated the updates but the dial tone filled you with loneliness and each call was just a signifier that christmas was almost here and your family was all the way over there.
the day was easy to be distracted by, walking around the city and seeing all the light displays, stopping at the fancy bakery more often than not because you needed it. but the night came and the snow whistled loudly but it was drowned out by the echoes of niall’s soft and pleading voice that played in repeat on your head and his crestfallen and all too soft face was projected behind your eyelids. sometimes you’d dream against your will of being in his parent's big house, wrapped up in a blanket that he slept under for years, his accent even thicker due to being around his family. the two of you laughing together lying in the snow that probably wasn’t dirty and mushy like it was outside your window. but then you woke yourself up and forced yourself to remember that once the semester ended, which was on the horizon, the two of you would go your separate ways and you’d be nothing more than the girl who helped him pass a required english class that he’d never think of again.
pulling your sweater out of the dryer you quickly put it on, letting the warmth overtake you. walking laps around your small living room as if something new would appear the next time you went around. “oh god, this boredom really is going to kill you.” you muttered.
the sharp raps at the door had you shooting up staring at the wood. “i’m going crazy.” you whispered and then the knocks were heard again. you looked through the peephole to see your favorite brown haired football player leaning against the doorframe. dressed in dark grey trousers and a white turtleneck, you took a second to take him in. “‘ello? ya in there darling?” he asked, looking through the peep hole on the other side. this brought you back to earth and you jumped back. niall? niall was at your door. five days before christmas when he should be in another country, you yanked the door open, eyes trailing down his figure as if to check if he was real.
“‘ello darling!” he smirked.
“niall, what are you doing here?”
he just gazed at you, his stare unwavering as a look of adoration took over his face. now it was time for him to check you out. top half covered by an oversized sweater, falling just above the hem of tiny sleep shorts that he quickly looked away from for his own good.
“go pack a bag.”
your heart faltered, “what, why? ni- i told you i can’t go with-”
“not that. just, go get some change of clothes, or not. i quite like what you’re in now.” he drawled, accent dancing against your skin. but you couldn’t let yourself get distracted.
“how come?” you asked softly, “why are you still in london?”
his palm came down and rested against your cheek, his large hand pretty much covering the entire half of your face, his thumb resting at your jaw and his pinky just under your eye.
“i’m still in london because you’re still in london, my pretty darling. and i spent a shit ton of money turning my apartment into a christmas magazine spread and i don’t wanna sit there all by myself. thought you might like it… i know i would if you were there.” he said, hoping you couldn’t feel the tremor running through his fingers as he poured his heart out.
“i would like that, too.” you whispered and his smile split his face.
“okay, okay good” he said, as if he thought you;d say no. “alright well then, again, i’m a big fan of the shorts” you scoffed and tried to pull them down as much as you could, “but the other people in my building might not, if you want to get changed real quick.”
you nodded excitedly, “yeah okay!” you dashed back into your room, taking a moment to take a breath, then break out into a happy dance, practically bouncing around your room quickly packing your bag with a change of clothes, a charger, your toothbrush, and comb, and then the small, wrapped present you had tucked in the back of your drawer, niall’s name written on the label. you bought it a few months ago, just thinking of him, and now seemed like you could actually give it to him.
“alright, i’m ready.” you said, locking the door behind you. with your back turned, niall draped your bag over his shoulder and led you to his car. the snow had lightened, as if the weather knew you’d be speeding down the streets of london in niall’s ridiculously expensive car with the top down, cool wind whipping your hair back.
niall could’ve spent the entire weekend just driving around with you, the wind carried your giggles and light remarks at sights you’d never seen to his ears and in the middle of december, he never felt warmer. you pulled into his apartment complex parking garage. you walked off the elevator with wobbly legs, it was hard to believe this was real, that niall just came and saved you from your winter nightmare.
“home sweet home” niall muttered, turning the knob and revealing his decorated living room. the expansive room was decorated lavishly, complete with a shimmering tree in the corner of the room, dozens of blankets draped over the large, cushy couch. the kitchen was a different story, batter in places you could not figure out how or why it got there and it seemed like he ran out the door without closing both the fridge or the oven.
“don’t look over there!” he squeaked, covering your eyes with his hands, “focus on the nice set up niall spent hours putting together.”
you walked to the center of the room, taking it all in. hours earlier when he was setting it up, he couldn’t help but feel stupid, thinking that you would decline his advancements, or that he’d make the room look ugly, or that he’d royally screw up the cookies. but seeing you in his space, the gold light dancing across your face making you look even more cozy and inviting than ever, it was all worth it.
“this really is incredible, ni. w-was this all for me?” you asked meekly. you couldn’t fathom that he would ditch his family, and spend his money and time for you, but the way he was staring at you said differently.
“of course it was, i told you,” he said, lightly grasping both your hands and sitting you both on the couch. “i didn’t want you to spend the holidays alone, and i wanted to spend them with you even more. when we were talking in the library, you said i invited you because i felt bad for you, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. i invited you because i wanted to spend time with you, i want to spend all my time with you, if i’m being honest. i tried to get the entire break, but as romantic as me ma thought this was, she said i couldn’t miss actual christmas. so this little world is ours for the next few days, if ya want.” his voice was so soft and so sweet and he was saying things you hadn’t even dreamt of.
you always imagined your feelings for niall would be a distant memory you’d look back on fondly, or that if you did, it would be full of awkwardly polite rejections that would ring in your head on bad days. but here in niall’s living room, the snow building up outside, and his entire being overtaking you a hundred times over, you knew nothing could go wrong here.
“niall this is the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me. y-you didn’t have to do this.” you began but he cut you off with a tsk.
“oh pretty darling, you just don’t get it do ya? you are the sweetest thing that’s ever happened to me. so nice and patient with me, making me laugh and putting up with all my shit. i want you here all the time and i want you as more than a friend.”
“i want you as more than a friend too.” you whispered and his eyes lit up like the lights strung above you both. “i think about you all the time. it makes my brain all fuzzy and my heart speed up, but i like it. and you showing up at my door today was the best- hmph!”
all you knew then was the feeling of niall’s lips on yours, one hand cradling your neck and the other resting laightly against your back. you placed both your hands on his chest and kissed him back, having no choice but to succumb to the feelings. as his tongue slid across your bottom lip, he pushed you back, falling onto the couch and his forearms held him up above you as he pulled away.
“hi”
“hi”
his smile was massive and you were sure yours matched.
“you make me crazy, baby.” he spoke, voice low and raspy, eliciting a gasp from you.
“i never want these days to end, i don’t wan t you to go.” you whispered.
niall looked between both your eyes, then back down at your lips, only for him to boop your nose, causing you to flinch. “yer so cute” he whispered under his breath, he knew how you felt, you’ve only been together for the past hour, but he was already addicted to the feel of you all around him. but it’ll be okay, with you it always is.
“i don’t want it to end either, but we’re together now. and when we’re not, i’ll just visit you in my dreams.”
pairing: [best friend’s brother] tom holland x college!reader
summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either.
warnings: swearing, angst, smut (18+) additional warnings under the cut
word count: 2.7k
series masterlist + read the next chapter early on ko-fi!!
additional warnings: semi-public sex, sex on the beach, protected sex
“Where are we going?” you asked.
“Do you trust me?”
“Not particularly.”
Tom placed his hand over his heart and winced. “You wound me.”
“Just tell me where you’re taking me!”
“But that ruins the surprise!” he argued.
“The surprise? It’s like eleven p.m. and I’m tired! Why are you dragging me out at this hour? Sam’s already annoyed that I came down here to meet you in the first place.”
“How does he know?”
“Who else would text me at this hour?”
“Fair point. But are you just going to stand there and interrogate me all night or are we doing this?”
You huffed in frustration. “I don’t even know what ‘this’ is!”
“Come on!”
Tom grabbed your hand before you could argue any further and dragged you out through the lobby into the parking lot.
“So now you’re kidnapping me?” you exclaimed, tripping over your own feet.
Tom chuckled but still shot you a look of warning. “Keep your voice down! People are going to think you’re serious.”
“Yes, sir,” you deadpanned.
"Stop trying to turn me on in public, you already have an unfair advantage.”
You weren’t sure how serious he was but you rolled your eyes anyway. You also didn’t know what he meant by the second part but you didn’t ask about that either.
He didn’t let go of your hand until you reached the car. And even then, it seemed like he was hesitant to release you from his grasp, fingers lingering on your palm like he was afraid you’d run away the second he set you free.
But you climbed into the passenger seat and buckled your seatbelt without a second thought. A series of poor decisions had already led you here. What was a couple more?
Mostly, your curiosity is what drove you to get in the car with him. You figured you didn’t have much to lose at this point. You hadn’t spoken more than a couple of words to Tom in the last few days. You had assumed he’d want nothing to do with you after you fucked up his relationship with his brother-- then again, maybe he didn’t want anything to do with you and was only driving you somewhere where he could chew you out without anyone overhearing. Hell, maybe he was taking you out to a pier where he could push you in the water so that your body would never be found.
No, he's too famous for that. He’d never get away with it.
You were silent as Tom put the car in gear and backed out of the lot. As soon as he turned onto the main road he rolled the windows down, glancing over at you to make sure it didn’t bother you.
“Is this okay?”
“Yeah, it’s fine.”
You watched him mess with the radio dial until a signal from a local station was picked up. Once he found something, he adjusted the volume so that you could hear the music over the sound of the rushing wind, and then he reached across the center console, hand outstretched. The gesture caught you off guard, and you were unsure whether or not you should take it. You figured it would be more awkward if you left him hanging so you looked away and slipped your fingers between his, relaxing into the familiar feeling.
The roads were mostly empty. Everything was already closed for the night. Eventually, Tom merged onto the highway, heading east.
“Do you know where you’re going?” you asked twenty minutes later when he still hadn’t taken an exit. You were beginning to suspect that he didn’t really have any place in particular in mind, that he was just taking you for a late-night drive, which would have been fine. You liked long drives too. But he had made it all seem so mysterious and the anticipation was killing you.
“Of course I do, how dare you doubt me!”
“It’s just that you don’t have a GPS on or anything!”
“I’ve been here before,” he reminded you.
“Yeah, one time three years ago.”
“That’s all I need,” he assured you. “And if you pay attention to the road signs you don’t even need to memorize the route.”
“You sound like my dad,” you mumbled.
“Your dad must be a very talented navigator,” Tom said decisively, complimenting himself.
You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, but he didn’t fail his driver’s test- what was it, four times?”
“Low blow,” he chided and shook his head.
“You needed to be humbled.”
Comfortable silence resumed between the two of you as Tom continued driving. He got off the highway a few miles later and wove through town before finally turning onto a rocky uphill path. The radio signal weakened almost immediately, static interrupting the music that had been playing. He turned the volume down out of instinct.
“Remind me, do you get carsick?” Tom asked suddenly like it was an afterthought that had just occurred to him.
“Um, sometimes? Why do you ask?”
“These roads are winding,” he explained, “they might make you nauseous. Just try to look straight ahead. Don’t look at your phone.”
“I haven’t looked at my phone this entire time!”
“Well don’t start now.”
You braced yourself for the twists and turns of the road but it was difficult to anticipate where they would be with how dark it was. The headlights of the car were the only source of light on the gravel road, everything else surrounded by shadows and silhouettes of trees.
Finally, just when you were starting to feel a little lightheaded, Tom pulled into a little lot on the side of the road.
“Are we here?” you asked, squinting in the darkness to try and make anything out.
“Yup,” Tom answered with a smile.
He turned off the car, letting the headlights dim.
“Come on!”
“We’re getting out?” you exclaimed.
“Would you just trust me?”
Sighing, you kicked open the passenger side door and climbed out of the car. Tom rounded the back to meet you on your side, blanket in hand.
“Where are we?”
“Listen.”
You closed your eyes and did as you were told, waiting for any sort of clue as to where you were. In the distance, you could hear waves crashing against the shore. The salt in the air and the sound of wind rustling through palm fronds only confirmed what you already knew.
“You took me to the beach?”
“Follow me.”
Tom took your hand and led you along the sandy path down to the shore. You toed off your shoes and held them in your free hand as you walked. The place was practically empty. The only other signs of life were the flames from a bonfire about half a mile down the beach.
Tom used the flashlight on his phone so you could see where you were going, keeping you steady when you tripped over your own feet in the uneven sand.
“Careful there,” he chuckled.
He picked a spot that wasn’t too far from the path, something that put a little more distance between you and the bonfire.
“Is this okay?”
“Seems as good a place as any,” you said and shrugged.
Tom laid out the blanket and motioned for you to sit on it. The sand underneath the fabric was cool, having long lost hold of the heat from the sun. It molded to the shape of your body as you chose a comfortable position.
You could feel Tom’s presence beside you but neither of you moved closer to the other. You figured he hadn’t brought you all the way out here to sit in silence, but you didn’t want to be the one to prompt the conversation. He was the one who was so insistent on coming, he could make the first move.
He did, after several more moments. You waited patiently, allowing him to collect his thoughts. His eyebrows were knit together, eyes downcast, as if he were having an internal argument with himself. Then, his expression softened and he met your gaze, any trace of conflict seemingly absolved.
“You look really pretty.”
You scoffed. “You can’t even see me that well.”
“Speak for yourself, I can see you perfectly.”
“It’s dark out!”
“We have the moonlight.”
“Barely.”
“I think you need to get your eyes checked,” Tom teased.
“Did you bring me out here just to make fun of me?”
“Yeah, are you not having a good time?” Tom asked. “Do I need to up my game?”
You rolled your eyes but didn’t grant him a response, instead pulling your knees to your chest so that you could rest your chin on them.
“Do you like it? Here, I mean?”
You nodded. “It’s nice. Quiet.”
“Mhm.”
“But why this beach? I mean, we’re on an island, the whole place is beach, but you drove me all the way out here.”
“It’s usually pretty empty, especially at night.”
“And you know that because... you’ve taken lots of girls out here?”
“If you count my mum, then yes,” he said sarcastically. “I don’t exactly frequent the island of O’ahu.”
“So you’re saying that if you did, you’d bring girls here all of the time?”
“Oh, totally. It’s how I’d seal the deal, like all the assholes in the movies.”
“By telling them they’re the first one you’ve ever brought here?”
“Exactly. But you know I’m telling you the truth because you already slept with me.”
You shoved him with a scoff, a little harder than you intended, making Tom fall back onto the blanket.
“Hey! What was that for?”
“You know exactly what that was for.”
He grinned sheepishly and then stretched out the arm that was closest to you. “C’mon, then. Join me.”
You shifted a bit, moving further down on the quilt so that when you laid back Tom’s arm would slot perfectly under your neck. You curled up to him, slinging your own arm across his stomach. The rhythm of his breathing along with the sounds of the waves breaking against the shore was soothing. It was the most relaxed you’d felt in a long time. You were halfway to sleep when you felt Tom murmur something into your hair.
“What?’ you asked groggily, blinking your eyes open.
“The stars, look.”
You repositioned yourself a bit so that you could stare straight up at the sky to see what he was talking about, gasping quietly when you did.
It wasn’t as impressive as the night skies on the boat had been, you were much closer to civilization now, but it was still better than anything you’d ever gotten to see back home. It was as if the sky was dripping with diamonds, stars hanging out of reach like they were on display at a store far out of your budget.
“It’s gorgeous.”
“I thought you might like it,” Tom mused, “I’m glad the clouds cleared so you could see them.”
“It’s nice here even without the stars,” you assured him. “Though, they’re definitely a highlight.”
Tom turned his head to look at you, smiling. Your eyes had adjusted slightly, allowing you to see the details of his face. The slit in his eyebrow, the crinkles in the corners of his eyes, the mole on his right cheek...
You weren’t sure who leaned in first, but the next thing you knew you were kissing him. Tom cupped your face with both hands and pressed his tongue against the seam of your lips, silently begging you to open your mouth. You did, gasping when he got impatient and nipped at your bottom lip.
You took the initiative this time and rolled on top of him, working your hands under his t-shirt to feel him up.
“Missed this,” Tom sighed, “missed you.”
“It’s only been like three days!”
“Way too long, if you ask me.”
You rolled your eyes but let the comments fuel your ego anyway.
He matched your pace and dropped his hands from your face to let them roam your body. It didn’t take long for them to find your tits, fingers brushing over your nipples underneath the fabric of your shirt. You rolled your hips against his, already able to feel that he was half hard through his sweats.
Tom groaned and broke away from kissing you to catch his breath, tilting his head back and swallowing hard. His hips stuttered underneath you, encouraging you to keep going. You took over and began kissing your way down his neck.
“Do you have a condom?” you asked breathlessly
You knew you were acting desperate but it’s because you were desperate. You were aching for him and your panties were beginning to feel uncomfortably sticky.
“Are you sure?” Tom asked, not answering your question.
“Yes, fuck, where are they?”
He propped himself up on his elbows and nodded down at his pocket. “I still have a few in my wallet.”
You sat up a little and brought one of your hands down to his pants, brushing your palm over his erection before fumbling for his wallet in his pocket.
“You’re a menace,” he hissed as he kicked his head back.
“Don’t act like you don’t love it.”
You retrieved a condom and slid the wallet back into his pocket, tearing the foil wrapper open while you tried to get his pants off at the same time.
“Need help?”
“No, I got it,” you muttered.
You were able to get Tom’s pants down far enough to get his dick out and put the condom on him before pushing your own pajama shorts and panties to the side so you could ride him without having to take them all the way off.
“Wait, I haven’t even fingered you or anything,” Tom interjected, putting a hand on your stomach to stop you from lowering yourself onto him. “It’ll hurt.”
“We don’t really have a lot of time,” you argued back, “I’m really wet already. You don’t need to.”
“Bullshit,” he countered in disbelief.
You were starting to get annoyed. Why wouldn’t he just fuck you like you wanted? You could tell Tom was getting frustrated as well, confused as to why you were rushing into it.
“At least let me rub your clit a little first?” he pleaded.
You wanted to tell him that it really was fine, that you’d just need a couple of extra seconds to adjust to his size, but he was already running a thumb over your pussy, feeling around for the spot that would make your knees buckle.
“F-fuck,” you whispered when he found it, arching just slightly to press yourself into him further.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Tom asked, sounding entirely too pleased with himself.
You couldn’t even deny it. “Yes.”
“Still gotta be quiet, though,” he reminded you, “don’t want to let those folks down the way know what we’re up to, huh?”
You nodded in agreement even though you had completely forgotten about the people having a bonfire on the beach. They were likely too far away to see the two of you in the dark, but you knew sound carried so you would still have to be careful.
“Can you put it in now? Just want to feel you.” You threw in a pout at the end just for good measure, hoping that would be enough to get you what you wanted.
Tom nodded and put a hand on either of your hips to help you. You sighed in relief as you sank down on him, finally feeling full. You were able to take him all at once but you did need more time to adjust to having him inside of you, to which Tom cockily mouthed I told you so at you.
Once the discomfort ebbed away you leaned down and pressed your chest to his, resting your head against his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around you instinctively as you started rocking yourself on his cock, trembling at just how deep he could get at this angle.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” you mumbled.
He carded a hand through your hair and cocked his head to the side. “What, having sex on the beach?”
Summary: Bucky Barnes, with all his trust fund money and family connections, gets assigned community service. You, as someone that’s technically part of the community, now have to put up with him. Every day. And he won’t stop killing your plants.
Warnings: General conflicting feelings, rude Bucky is protective??
Word Count: 4.3k
a/n: Writing this relationship is so funnn!!! Let me know what you think! I really appreciate your feedback :))
Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist
~~
Physics was—arguably—the worst subject known to man. If it were up to you, the topic would never be breached in conversation and you would never be around anyone that would even consider uttering the words centripetal force. Your days would be easy and calm, full of plant biology and algae samples.
Unfortunately, life wasn’t always up to you, and you had left your most undesirable elective for your senior year. That meant that you had to sit in a physics lecture every Tuesday and Thursday and try to keep the tears at bay.
At least Wanda was in the class with you. She wasn’t much help—she always seemed to ace the tests even though she spent the majority of class online shopping—but it was nice to have someone sit beside you while you spiraled. When you wanted a distraction from the endless equations, you could always glance over at the shoes she was adding to her cart.
Summary: Bucky Barnes, with all of his trust fund money and family connections, gets assigned community service. You, as someone that’s technically part of the community, now have to put up with him. Every day. And he won’t stop killing your plants.
Warnings: Bucky is the captain of this annoyance to lovers ship
Word Count: 3.7k
a/n: New series!! I’m super excited about this one :) Let me know what you think because I adore feedback ♡
Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist
~~
The greenhouse was always a touch too warm for your taste. Something about the fixed humidity made your shirt stick to your skin, even as the weather beyond the walls raged with a frigid chill. It made it difficult to appreciate the changing seasons when you found yourself inside with the plants more often than not.
Summary: Bucky Barnes, with all of his trust fund money and family connections, gets assigned community service. You, as someone that’s technically part of the community, now have to put up with him. Every day. And he won’t stop killing your plants.
Warnings: Enemies (annoyance) to lovers, Bucky’s old money at an ivy league, angst, minor injury, drinking, eventual smut (minors dni, marked **)
a/n: Hello! I’ve decided there won’t be a set posting day for this series. This is something I’ve been super excited to share (even with my writing steam dying out) and I want to get it out here without extra pressure. I’ll be adding the dates for upcoming chapters as they are ready :) And thank you @barnesafterglow for that second, beautiful moodboard 🤍
Summary: Bucky Barnes, with all his trust fund money and family connections, gets assigned community service. You, as someone that’s technically part of the community, now have to put up with him. Every day. And he won’t stop killing your plants.
Warnings: Awful men, discussion of family issues, tensionnnn
Word Count: 4.6k
a/n: Thank you for sticking around and waiting for this one :) I hope you enjoy!!
Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist
~~
Your choked words echoed into the phone receiver, making you cringe as you thought about poor Peter on the other end of the call. You knocked your head back against the headrest of your car seat, bringing your sleeve up to your dampened cheeks.
“I’m not even that upset, I don’t know why I’m crying.”
“Hey, you can cry if you want,” Peter comforted. Sounds popped through your speaker as he moved around. “Tell me what happened?”
You sniffed, adjusting the temperature dial to blast more heat through your car. “Wanda had Natasha set me up on a date.”
hey heyy can you write an angsty peter pic where its pete x tonys daughter and he finds out she self harms? ik its dark but i think it could be a really good and well written fic :)
omg i have no idea who sent this to me but noooooo i am 100% not comfortable with this
pairing: [best friend’s brother] tom holland x college!reader
summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either.
warnings: swearing, mentions of sex, angst, morbid plane/flying facts
word count: 2.2k
series masterlist + read the next chapter early on ko-fi!!
Predictably, you cried yourself to sleep. You debated over whether or not to tell Tom. He’d probably find out when he woke up in the morning but would he be mad if he didn’t hear it from you? If Sam was right, he didn’t care about you at all, so why would you grant him the courtesy of a head’s up? You didn’t want to believe Sam, rather, you wanted to believe that he had only said those things in the heat of the moment but at the end of the day, he knew Tom far better than you did. Whether or not he was telling the truth to try and save you or lying to hurt you was up to you to decipher.
You wound up texting Tom ‘Sam knows’ without any other context and calling it a night.
The next morning, you woke up to a message from Sam telling you not to bother getting ready for the day and that he’d be going on without you. It was mostly a relief not to have to put on an act after everything that happened the night before but it also stung.
You weren’t very optimistic about repairing your relationship with Sam but any lingering hope vanished when he wouldn’t even look at you in passing in the hallway.
You spent the entire day in bed, trying to distract yourself with anything you could think of to pass the time. You scrolled through social media until your timelines stopped refreshing with new content. There wasn’t anything interesting enough on TV to pull you out of spiraling so you didn’t even bother trying to find something to hold your attention.
At one point you remembered the book you were reading but as soon as you opened it you were greeted by all of Sam’s little annotations he had left for you. He still had your book and you wondered if he would ever finish it now that you’d ruined everything.
You thought about texting him, just to check in or try and talk about things but you didn’t want to bother him. A couple of times, you almost texted him just out of instinct. You would go to send him a tweet that you thought he’d find funny and then remember.
Tom came by your room that night after dinner, when everyone was back from the day’s activities. He knocked twice, letting himself in before you’d even finished telling him he could enter.
“Care to explain what happened?” he asked, hands on his hips.
You shrugged noncommittally. “Sam found out.”
“How? Did you tell him?”
“And ruin my own relationship with my best friend? Yeah, definitely.”
Tom rolled his eyes. “I didn’t come here to argue. I just want to know what happened.”
“Then don’t accuse me of shit.”
“I didn’t mean- I’m sorry. That’s not what I was trying to do.”
You sighed and signaled for him to sit down if he wanted to. He did, perching himself on the edge of the bed cautiously.
“He knows because he noticed me sneaking out and finally decided to follow me.”
The color drained from Tom’s face. “So he heard-”
You nodded. “I don’t know how much, but enough.”
“Fuck.”
“Fuck is right.”
“He wouldn’t say a word to me today,” Tom said.
“He wouldn’t even look at me.”
“I guess we knew this would happen eventually.”
“Yeah.”
“We fucked up.”
“Yeah.”
“You were right.”
“What do you mean?” you asked, furrowing your eyebrows.
“We really do deserve each other.”
Oh. What Sam had said earlier rang through your ears again.
“I guess I was.”
Just then, the door to the bedroom opened and Sam walked in, scoffing as he passed his brother.
“I should have known,” he muttered to himself.
“Sam look-” Tom tried, only to be immediately cut off by his younger brother.
“Don’t. Please just fucking don’t.”
“But-”
“God, you never listen to a word I say, do you? Either of you?”
You wanted to protest that you did listen to him but you thought better of it. It wouldn’t help your case at all. Instead, you sat there silently like a child being scolded.
“I don’t want to hear you explain yourself,” Sam continued. “I don’t care why you fucked my best friend. I think the act in itself doesn’t need an explanation.” Tom opened his mouth to respond but Sam cut him off again. “I don’t want to hear an apology either. I already know you don’t mean it. In fact, I think we’re done here so if you wouldn’t mind getting the fuck out of my room...”
Tom looked like he wanted to argue but likely knew it wouldn’t do any good so he simply hung his head and let himself out, bidding you a quiet goodnight as he left. You didn’t respond. You didn’t even acknowledge him. How could you?
“Don’t forget to pack your things for the flight tomorrow. It’s a long one.”
You sat there, stunned. You hadn’t expected Sam to speak to you at all, let alone say something amicable.
“O-ok thanks,” you responded shakily.
“I’m sleeping in here tonight,” he added.
“Oh-” you scrambled up, preparing to leave but Sam stopped you.
“No, I meant with you. It’d look weird if I slept on the couch again.”
Of course. Keeping up appearances.
“Is it even worth it to do this anymore?” you asked. “I mean, it’s falling apart at the seams.”
“It’ll be fine,” Sam argued. “It’s just a few more weeks.”
“Do you really want to keep pretending to be in love with someone you hate?”
He froze, still bent over his suitcase. Then he straightened up and turned to face you.
“I don’t hate you.”
“You don’t?”
“No, I don’t think I could ever hate you. I’ve been trying, trust me.”
You weren’t sure how to take that. You weren’t sure how you were supposed to take it. You tried not to let his words stoke the embers of hope you were still clinging on to but it was already proving difficult.
“Maybe with time,” you suggested.
He shrugged. “Ready for bed?”
-
You managed to get some sleep, despite everything. It took a while for your heart to calm down as you lay there beside your (ex?) best friend who was already snoring softly. He had fallen asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. You weren’t sure how he was able to drift off so easily in spite of your whole friendship falling apart but perhaps the stress was only one-sided.
You were the one being eaten alive by anxiety and guilt. All he had to do was mourn the loss of everything you destroyed.
The hours of sleep you did get passed quickly without dreams which was unusual for you. Before you knew it, Sam’s alarm was going off and both of you were groaning as you dragged yourself out of bed.
You finished packing the rest of your things in relative silence. Neither of you had much to say aside from when you passed each other’s things back and forth from your suitcases.
The sun had yet to come up when the rest of the Hollands gathered in the kitchen with their luggage. Since the flight was over twelve hours long Sam’s parents had booked the earliest possible departure which just so happened to be before the sunrise.
The boys slept during the ride to the airport but you weren’t able to. You were squished between Sam in Tom in the very back of the van, feeling like a pin in a grenade. They ignored each other, of course, both seemingly dead to the world.
Tom woke up before Sam. He glanced over at you and offered an expression of sympathy. You just shrugged in response.
Sitting in the car like that caused your knees to brush up against each other every so often, each time you rounded a corner or went over a speed bump. Every time it happened you fought the urge to meet his eyes. The touch, be it fleeting, made your chest tighten over and over again until you were half-convinced you were going into cardiac arrest. Eventually, Tom gave up trying to give you space and just let his knee rest against yours. Funnily enough, it helped you relax.
“Sorry,” he muttered.
“It’s fine.”
He was so hard to read these days. Not that he was ever easy to read. You couldn’t tell whether or not he liked having his knee there. You weren’t sure why you were getting so caught up on it in the first place.
You longed to hold his hand. You longed to hold Sam’s hand. But all you could do was sit there in between the two and wait until you finally arrived at the airport.
Thankfully, Tom was sat with his parents for the flight, which meant you were squeezed in between Sam and Harry. You gave Sam the window seat, knowing you wouldn’t get any sleep yourself. He looked like he wanted to argue when you offered it to him, but ultimately surrendered when he saw the look in your eyes. You compromised for switching halfway through since the flight was so long but even that seemed to be pushing it for him.
It was funny how Sam was still looking out for you after everything you had done. It was as if it was instinctual to him, to put you before himself. The realization almost made you tear up. Had you cared that much for him too? Or was it all one sided? Either way, you were positive you didn’t deserve him.
-
Dom had chosen Hawai’i as his destination. A controversial choice, given the state of tourism at the moment, but it wasn’t like you had much say in the matter. Sam had confided in you earlier in the trip that he had tried to talk his father out of it but that he couldn’t be swayed.
“We might as well try to make the most of it,” you argued. “It’s like a once and a lifetime opportunity, right?”
He shrugged. “I guess.”
The flight from Bali to Hawai’i was over twelve hours long which meant that you had roughly six hours to figure out how to entertain yourself before it was time to trade places. You could try to sleep but that meant leaning on Sam and you were almost positive the last thing he wanted was for you to touch him right now.
You didn’t feel like paying for the in-flight wi-fi so you had to get creative with how to keep yourself busy. You scrolled through your camera roll for a while but it just made you sad. The pictures from the trip were one thing, but then there were all of the ones of you and Sam back at school. The further back you went, the happier you seemed. There was no way that was actually true, it was just putting more distance in between what had happened in the present from the way things were in the past. That, and you had a tendency for romanticizing the past.
“Did you know flight attendants are trained to take oxygen masks from passengers?”
Harry’s voice from beside you pulled you from your spiral of self-pity almost immediately. You turned to look at him and cocked your head in confusion.
“What?”
“Like, you know that whole spiel they give you about safety before the plane takes off? And they’re like ‘during the flight, oxygen masks might drop from overhead’?”
“No, I know all of that. Why would they take the masks from passengers? Do they not have their own?”
“They do, but they might need to move around the cabin when that happens in case of an emergency or something, and if that were to be the case, they’re trained to take masks from passengers to oxygenate themselves. They’ll give it back, but in order to do their jobs they might have to borrow one without asking.”
“What if the passenger passes out?”
“Then they’ll be able to help them! Because they’re fully oxygenated.”
You made a face. “I’m glad you’ve got the aisle seat, then.”
Harry shrugged, grinning. “It sounds fucked up, but it’s just logistical. Wanna know something actually fucked up? These seatbelts are practically useless.”
“What?” You weren’t sure if you really wanted to know where he was going with this but your morbid curiosity got the better of you once again. “What do you mean?”
“Well, they help with turbulence and stuff but in the event of a crash, these aren’t going to do shit for us. They’re just here to keep us strapped to the seat so they can identify the corpses by looking at the flight log.”
You sat there in stunned silence as the information Harry had just told you sunk in.
“That is... so dark,” you said finally.
“Yeah, but isn’t it interesting?”
“I guess, but why did you have to tell me all of this while we’re in the air?”
“Because it’s relevant!”
You sighed and glanced back at Sam who was asleep and slumped against the window. “Ready to switch?”
Bonfires & "Did you bring a jacket?" / "No." / "Take mine."
with Barry
A/N: STELLA! I love this prompt suggestion with our boy Barry! Thank you so much for the request!
Warmth
Summary: Barry knows just how to wind down at the end of a busy day
Warnings: Just some coziness and fluffy moments coming your way
"Here we are! Red wine for you, luv,"
"Oh, you're a saint,"
"Nah, just Barry,"
You giggled as Barry handed you a glass of red wine, making sure you had a grip on it before he sat down next to you in his own chair. A crackling bonfire was in front of the pair of you, giving some warmth in the chilly air as you both were sitting in your backyard, enjoying the last of the sunlight before the night would come over your home. You loved being out there in the backyard when the weather was right and you needed to unwind.
Just like tonight.
The last few weeks were busy for you: you job was trying to hire new people since things were "slowly" going back to normal and COVID case numbers were going dow. You were helping in the hiring process, a nightmare in all fairness since the paperwork would pile up and the interviews were as dull as a dental cleaning. But your body knew you were good in combing out those who wanted the job and those who needed the job, and you got a promotion out of it too.
So it wasn't too bad, just exhausting.
Barry was just as swamped in his projects since they were picking up again. You two barely had time to be around each other but when you did, you made the most out of it. You both lived pretty close, just a taxi ride to one another or even a walk if you wanted to stretch the legs. He preferred to come to your flat since his was a pinch too small for you two to hang out in. Plus, you had a small backyard that was perfect for using in the summer, growing your veggie garden, and grilling good food when the spring sunsets were perfect.
Tonight, although cold, was a good night to use the bonfire.
You shivered a bit in your chair, Barry noticing and raising an eyebrow at you.
"Did you bring a jacket?" He asked you, you shaking your head since you figured it wasn't going to be that cold that evening. It was a cool day, but the crispness of the Autumn night picked up suddenly and gave you a chill down your spine and along your skin. You had a thick blanket over your lap, but it gave only some comfort.
Barry then shrugged off the jacket he was wearing, you seeing his pull out his arms from the sleeves before he got up from his chair and kneeled in front of you and taking your wine glad to place it on the ground.
"Take mine, before you turn into a popsicle," He hummed, you about to protest with him before he held out a finger to you, "No butts! You're gonna get sick,"
If there was one thing about Barry, it was that he was stubborn and wasn't going to back down. You just sighed and nodded, giving in as he laced your arms into the jacket sleeves. Instant warmth and the scent of Barry surrounding you, the bitter cold was no longer there as Barry grinned from seeing you be in relief. He handed your wind back to you again before he went back to you chair, you watching his exposed arms under his thin shirt he wore.
"Aren't you going to be cold now?" You asked sheepishly, seeing the light of the bonfire reflecting off of Barry. He just grinned and shook his head, moving his chair over a bit to wrap an arm around you and get the blanket over his legs a bit more. One arm was around your shoulders, your head tucked against his shoulder and his fingers rubbing your arms soothingly.
"I don't mind it too much. I got ya to warm me up," he commented, though you blushed as you took a small sip from your wine and watched the flames dance in the fire pit, "I should learn by now you get cold faster than me,"
"You make me sound like a reptile," You stated, Barry chuckling.
"More like an Ice Queen," He snorted, you smacking his shoulder and hearing him laugh as he kissed your cheek. You enjoyed having this moments with him, no one else around and both of your professions were place on the back burner for the few hours you had together. Barry loved unwinding with you, not talking about any projects that were coming up or a stressful days on set. You also never wanted to talk about the work drama in the office, though Barry never minded it since he thought it was hilarious to hear.
In the end, you both were a comfort to the other and took your time together seriously.
"Tell me when you get too cold, we'll head inside and get a fire goin'," Barry explained to you as you nuzzled into him some more as you shook your head.
"I like it out here," You stated, "The peace and quiet is quite nice,"
It was true: the calm and peaceful time of day was something that you barely heard. Sometimes it was unbearable to get through the day without getting the headache, the constant noise of cars honking, people screaming, and office chatter would make your head spin. Your home, though small and a bit cramped, was your place of peace and serenity.
And having Barry there was the cherry on top.
"The let's stay out here until the fire goes out," Barry hummed in agreement, you grinning as you both were waiting the sky melt away from the pinks and purples into the dar blues, stars were starting to appear and the moon was about to inch into the night sky.
With a glass of red wine in one hand your boyfriend nestled against you on your other side, your night was filled with warmth.
Hawuu can i request "It's getting late, I should go." And Telling Ghost Stories around a Fire for Barry thank you
A/N: HAWUU! This is a cute one! Thank you very much for the request, anon!
Story Time
Summary: A Good Scary Story around a Bonfire brings you and Barry closer together.
Warnings: Fluff all around!
You couldn't help but check your watch, seeing how late it was already as your group of friends were all engaged in a ghost story session. It was nice to be able to get out of the house for a few hours, bu you knew it was getting a bit too late and you had to head home soon since you were due to get up early the nest day for school.
But of course, you were too much of a people pleaser to turn down some time with your friends.
You enjoyed the night so far, your friends were always great company and made your days a bit brighter when it was stressful. One of your friends even introduced you to one of her old buddies from school when they were younger: Barry Keoghan. He was an actor, though you never thought it when you too met for the first time at a bar. He was kind and a gentleman, you two hitting it off with your conversation and enjoying your time together at the bar.
You thought of it as a stretch that he would be interested in you, you were more of a "plain jane" according to your friends. It was a running joke, nothing exciting happening in your life, no real prospects that you were working towards. You never paid any mind to it, only trying to survive and get by day by day.
So on this night, you were just glad to be out of the house, out of being nose deep in your textbooks, and being able to unwind with a few ghost stories told by your friends. Your friends were meeting at a local beach, saving a fire pit to use for a few hours. It was a never night, though the cool wind made you remember to bring your jacket and a big blanket to use. Everyone in your fiend group did come, and yet the last person that you expected to see show up was Barry, whom showed up a few minutes after you did.
You weren't going to lie, he was rather handsome. The small fluttering sensations in your stomach you had when you were a teenager and around the teenage boy you liked were back the fold when he said hello to you and gave you a sweet smile. It was like he was a breath of fresh air in your friend group, everyone making a spot around the fire that was already lit up for use. Barry sat next to you, which made the butterflies in your stomach get bigger as the first ghost story started.
They were the stereotypical stories, nothing too scary or too intense to be afraid over. Some of them were rather amusing, at least to you since you never thought of any of them as scary. Sure, the others were into them, but you were most amused by it.
And what did surprise you was that Barry was just as amused too. Almost like he too wasn't scared with the stories, but found them pretty funny. You would look over a few times, seeing the genuine grin on his face and how his smile widened and made his eyes shined with the bonfire reflecting in his blue eyes. You would look away the you felt like you were watching him for too long.
Not knowing he was doing the exact same thing when you weren't paying attention.
Finally, around 11:30, you had to call it a night. You huffed, getting up from your chair and gathering your things as your friend Jane perked up for her spot with her boyfriend.
"Sorry guys, I gotta go home, I have school tomorrow," You explained, Jane grimacing and her boyfriend rolling his eyes with a hint of annoyance.
"Way to be a snooze, Plain Jane," he groaned, Jae immediately hushing him and looking at him with a scowl on her face. You said nothing, but of course it annoyed you. It wasn't your fault that you wanted to get through school at a decent pace and you were working at the same time. It made you less available to be at the events and hang outs that you were invited to, and it showed when some of the comments were made under the breath or behind you back.
This wasn't new.
But you were also one of those who never cared about the opinion of others, especially those who never knew when to keep their mouths shut. It was safer for you to just walk away or just let it roll off your shoulders than to add fuel to the fire, your energy was better off in doing something you loved than letting that doubt get to you.
So you were going to going to be the bold one and leave.
"Goodnight," You said in short tone, Jane looking remorseful as you were dusting the sand off your jeans and turning around before you could see the look of pain on her face.
"No, wait please--" She started to say, but you stopped seeing Barry shooting up from his chair and folding it up himself.
"You know what, I'm gonna head out too," Barry explained, Jane's boyfriend lookin shock as well as Jane while you gave you a wide eyed look.
"You serious, Barry?" Jane's boyfriend asked, looking a bit put out that Barry was going to leave too. Barry shrugged as he grabbed his jacket to throw on.
"It's late anyways, and it's too dark for her to go out on her own to her car. I'm gonna walk her out and then split," He reasoned as he gestured to me, Jane softly smiling from the gesture as Barry looked from the pair of them over to you, giving you a sweet smile. You grinned widely, not saying anything as you both walked together, away from your friends and over to the parking lot.
"You're an outright git! You know that?!" You heard Jane screech at her boyfriend, thinking you and Barry were out of ear shot as Barry cleared his throat to get your attention.
"Sorry about him back there," Barry apologized in sincerity as you walked side by side, "The guy has no filter when it comes to talkin', and with beer in him, it's worse. He was a bit rude,"
"Oh, it's okay," You replied in a shrug, "I wanted to leave for awhile anyways. I got bored,"
"Yeah, those stories weren't great were they?" Barry asked with amusement on his voice. You bot locked eyes, you then nodding your head and giggling as Barry chuckled.
"They were shit," you replied, Barry's chuckle was a bit louder, "And thank you for walking me back to my car. There's no real lighting in the parking lot anyways,"
"It's not a problem. I was hoping to actually see if you wanted to grab somethin' to eat tonight," Barry admitted, you looking at him with a hint of shock and the electricity coming through you veins from what he said. But he sighed and rubbed the back of his neck,"You said you had school though, and we can go another time--"
"I would love to get food tonight," You interrupted him, seeing him look back at you with a small shocked stare, then slowly grinning widely as you spoke again, "I know a place near my apartment that's 24 hours, decent fries and great shakes."
You didn't know where you got the sense to be bold, to be brave in taking this risk. But maybe it was the rile up drive from Jane's boyfriend called you Plain Jane and you not letting it get to you anymore, and talking to Barry away from the others who you knew would eavesdrop. Something came over you to ask Barry, and you were glad that you did.
"I would love that," Barry replied smoothly, and you both were grinning widely at each other as you were approaching the parking lot.
It turned out to be one of the best nights of your life.
pairing: [best friend’s brother] tom holland x college!reader
summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either.
warnings: swearing, mentions of sex, angst (sam gets mean)
word count: 2.2k
series masterlist + read the next chapter early on ko-fi!!
The first time you met Sam was at a party on campus. It was a month into your first semester of college and one of the frats had passed out fliers in the residence halls in the hopes of getting lots of the freshman girls to attend.
You had dragged your roommate with you, insisting that you needed to get out there and start meeting people since you were each other’s only friends thus far.
But the joke was on you because she ditched you not even five minutes after arriving, having recognized an ex-boyfriend from her hometown. You didn’t hold it against her, you had been the one to convince her to come in the first place and you understood the whole ex thing.
But you were a lot shyer back then, less confident. So you stumbled your way through the house until you reached the kitchen. No one had offered to make you a drink yet so you figured you might as well make one yourself. You’d need a little liquid courage if you were going to get the balls to talk to any of these people anyway.
That’s where you ran into Sam. He was bent over the stove cooking what looked to be a grilled cheese sandwich. He turned his head when he heard you come in and nodded at you in acknowledgement.
“Want one?” he asked.
“What is it?”
“Grilled ham and cheese.”
You nodded. “Hit me.”
He finished simmering the one in the pan and slid it onto a paper plate before grabbing the ingredients for yours.
“How long have you lived here?” you asked conversationally.
“Oh, I don’t live here.”
“Are you a pledge then?”
“No.”
“You’re not… affiliated with this frat?”
“Nope.”
“Are your friends?”
“Nah.”
“So you’re just…”
“Stealing their food? Kind of.”
You shrugged. “I won’t tell.”
He cracked a smile. “Good, because I’d really regret making you a sandwich if you did.”
You hadn’t noticed until that point but he had an accent.
“English?” you asked.
“Yes, that’s what we’re speaking. Why, do you know another language?”
You rolled your eyes. “You know what I meant.”
“Yes, I’m an international student,” he explained after chuckling.
“What made you decide to come all the way over here?”
“A mix of things, really,” he sighed.
“You’re probably tired of that question, I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s okay. I just don’t have an interesting answer or anything so conversations usually fizzle out after that.”
“I get it. It’s like when everyone in your hometown asks you what you’re going to study and what job you’re getting your degree for.”
“Pretty much,” he agreed. “Your grilled cheese is ready.”
He plated the sandwich and handed it to you, turning the stove off and depositing the pan and spatula in the sink.
“Thank you!”
“You might want to let it cool down a bit, though.”
“Yes, chef.”
He gave you a look, making you freeze in place.
“What? Is that a slur in British or something?”
“No, it’s just- I’m a culinary major. I’m always saying that to my professors but no one’s ever said that to me before. I know you didn’t mean it mean it but it sounded weird.”
“I was just referencing Hell’s Kitchen,” you admitted.
“Just so you know, not all British chefs are like Gordon Ramsay.”
“Only the majority?”
He winked at you. “Bingo.”
“So if you don’t want me to call you ‘chef’, what should I call you?”
“I never said I didn’t want you to call me that,” he clarified. “But you can call me Sam.”
“Sam. Nice name.”
“Thanks. Do you have one?”
You grinned. “I do.”
He gave an exasperated little sigh. “And what is it?”
“Y/n.”
“You have a nice name too.”
“Thank you.”
“By the way, your sandwich should be cool enough to eat by now.”
You leaned back against the island and took a bite of your grilled cheese. Sam gauged your reaction, raising his eyebrows expectantly.
“Good?”
“Great. Best grilled cheese sandwich I’ve ever had.”
“Don’t fuck with me,” he warned.
“I’m not! Listen, I can’t cook for shit so I’m very easy to impress.”
“I’ll take your word for it. It’s better for my ego if I ignore the last part.”
“I can make a mean Moscow Mule, though. My talents lie in mixology, not gastronomy.”
“Make me a drink, then?” he asked.
“Gladly.”
You set your paper plate on the counter and made your way over to the fridge.
“Let’s see what they have in here.”
“Oh, now you’re the one stealing food?”
“Guess that makes us partners in crime.”
You fell silent as you looked over the contents of the refrigerator, gathering a bottle of orange juice and half-empty jar of raspberry jam. You checked the expiration dates before continuing because you didn’t trust frat guys and then set them on the island with a handle of tequila that had been left out.
Sam watched as you spooned the jam into an empty solo cup, visibly skeptical. You couldn’t blame him for not trusting you, you had just met him, after all. You poured the orange juice in next and mixed the two together, finally adding a shot and a half of tequila.
“Don’t want to get you too drunk,” you explained.
He scoffed. “You think that’ll do me in? I’m English, remember?”
“Fine, suit yourself.”
You poured what you approximated to be another shot of tequila into the cup. You filled another cup with ice from a nearby cooler and poured the contents of the first cup into it. Instead of shaking them and risking making a huge mess, you rolled them between the cups until you were satisfied that everything was properly mixed.
You presented Sam with your creation, eyes shining. “Here you go! It’s a makeshift tequila sunrise.”
Sam reached for it but you stopped him abruptly. “Wait! Hold on.”
You took a sip of the drink yourself, just to make sure it was actually palatable, before passing it off to him.
“Sorry, wanted to check.”
“Not confident in your abilities all of the sudden?“ he mused.
“I’m trying something new,” you grumbled defensively, “artists make mistakes. I’m not above admitting that and therefore want to quality check my products to make sure it’s good enough for my consumers.”
“Didn’t realize you were taking this so seriously.”
“I take everything seriously.”
He eyed you suspiciously. “Something tells me that’s not true.”
-
That night, and all the others you spent with Sam flashed before your eyes like some sort of sick slideshow as you stood there with him in the hallway. The fractures in the glass were beyond repair now, spindling inward threatening to shatter.
You supposed it was what you deserved, watching your relationship with your best friend crumble right in front of you.
“Why do you ask?” you said quietly, still testing the waters.
“You think I haven’t noticed you sneaking off every night?” Sam demanded.
“Uh-”
“At first, I thought you just needed some space. And I understood because you’ve been stuck with us for over a month now, but then it happened every night and you’d be gone for so long,” he sighed. “So finally, I followed you-”
“You what?”
“I know, I’m such a bad friend for invading your privacy.” His voice was dripping with sarcasm and you could already feel the tears welling up.
You tried to hold them back because you didn’t deserve to cry. You’d put yourself in this situation, and you knew it was wrong, but you still did it anyway. You clutched your towel closer to your body, trying to shrink into yourself.
“I heard what I needed to,” he continued. “So how long have you been fucking my brother?”
“Sam, I-”
“I asked you a question.”
“Long enough,” you muttered. “He found out we weren’t actually dating. I didn’t tell him-”
“That makes it better?”
“No, I just thought you should know.”
“What does it matter anyway,” he spat. “We had an agreement. You had one task and you couldn’t even do it. I should have never invited you on this goddamn trip.”
You couldn’t help but agree. “I’m sorry.”
Sam laughed and shook his head. “I don’t believe you. If you actually felt any guilt over this you never would have done it. Or you would’ve at least stopped before it got to this point.”
“No, I am sorry,” you tried. “It’s just…”
“Just what?” he asked, eyes widening suddenly. “You’re not pregnant, are you?”
For a fraction of a second you were thrown back in time. The best friend that didn’t hate you was suddenly standing in front of you, eyes full of concern. It passed just as quickly as it had come when you denied it.
“No, it’s just… I f- I’m in love with him.” You couldn’t even look Sam in the eye when you said it, too afraid of his reaction.
It was dead silent all throughout the house after your confession. You stared at the floor where a puddle had appeared at your feet from your dripping hair.
He chuckled again in disbelief, breaking the silence.
“You’re not in love with him,” he said matter-of-factly. “You don’t even know what love feels like. You’ve only known him for a fucking month, how could you possibly love him?” You were crying now, furiously wiping away the tears that fell onto your cheeks. “You’re just lonely, y/n, and desperate, and grasping at straws for anything that feels like ‘love’.”
“That’s not true,” you insisted. You weren’t sure why you were trying to defend yourself. He was probably right.
“It is true! I’ve known you for how many years now? You’ve never had a real relationship with anybody. How could you possibly know what love feels like?”
You shook your head adamantly, convincing yourself he didn’t mean what he was saying. “You’re lashing out.”
“Is it lashing out if it’s true?” he quipped.
You swallowed hard, choking a bit.
“I can’t fucking believe this. My best friend and my brother. I went away to school to be on my own and have my own life, and somehow Tom manages to take that too.” He was mostly talking to himself now. “What if someone else had caught you two? How fucked up would that have looked? I put no flirting with my brothers on the list of rules for a reason, obviously. Although I guess it didn’t matter in the end anyway, did it? You didn’t take them or this seriously.”
“Sam, that’s not true and you know that. I’m the one who wrote out those flashcards. I memorized all that stuff about your family. I flew halfway around the world for you— I did take it seriously.”
“Until Tom offered his dick to you on a silver platter?”
“Oh my god!”
“Am I wrong?”
You sighed. “It’s a lot more complicated than that.”
“Explain it to me then. When did this all start anyway?”
“Tom kissed me for the first time in, um, Italy.”
“Oh my god, I’m the biggest fucking idiot in the world,” he groaned.
“But it wasn’t like that then… he still thought we were together then.”
Sam threw his hands up. “That makes it worse!”
“I know but he was drunk.”
“That’s not an excuse. You of all people should know that.”
You let the dig slide since he was in an emotional state and you were in no position to argue anyway.
“I know.”
“So you guys have been sneaking around behind my back for like a fucking month now?”
“We didn’t sleep together until Shanghai, when he found out we weren’t together. But I feel like I should tell you I kissed him in Japan. Just so that you know everything.”
“Oh, thank you so much,” Sam deadpanned. “Thank you for being so honest.” He spat the last word at you, which again, was deserved, but hurt nonetheless. You sniffled. “I can’t believe you’re the one crying right now.”
You couldn’t believe that Sam wasn’t crying but then again he wasn’t the type to cry when he was angry. He only cried when he was sad, and that probably hadn’t hit him yet.
You were starting to get cold wearing nothing but a towel but tried not to let it show. Of course, Sam noticed instantly. He sighed as you shivered and pursed his lips. Even when he was furious with you, even when your relationship was irreparably damaged, he cared about you. It wasn’t something he could just turn off, though maybe with time, he’d learn to.
“Anyway, go to bed. I’m going to sleep on the couch.”
“O-okay,” you mumbled.
Sam brushed past you abruptly, muttering to himself loud enough for you to hear.
“God, I wish I’d never fucking met you that night.”
You bit down on your lip as hard as possible to choke down a sob. All you could do was stand there motionlessly and stare at the floor. You waited for him to walk away into the living room but the footsteps stopped suddenly.
“Oh, and a word of advice-”
“Hm?” You turned around to face him, trying your best to pull yourself together.
“You should try getting over your feelings for Tom as fast as possible. He doesn’t love you back. He’s just using you, love. I know he’s quite charming but that’s why he’s so good at his job. Easier said than done, I know, but you’re a smart girl. You’ll figure it out.”
oof... we all knew it was coming. lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!
A/N: Hey, here’s chapter four, I hope you guys enjoy! I’d really appreciate hearing any feedback you have whether that be in reblogs or comments! It def helps keep me motivated and makes this all more fun. As always my inbox is open if you have anything to say. Thanks for reading, love you guys xx
Warnings: Fighting, angst, smut
Summary: It’s time for you and Tom to talk about what happened
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❀ ゜.・゜-: ✧ :- -: ✧ :-゜・．゜❀
Three days, you didn’t talk to Tom for three days. He’d texted you the morning after the party but you didn’t respond, and he left you alone after that. It was strange to go from talking everyday to not speaking at all. You were tempted to reach out a few times but you always ended up backing out. Part of you was embarrassed about how you’d blown up at him, and part of you was still angry. Talking to him just didn’t seem that appealing yet, you wanted to figure out what to say first.
“Knock knock,” Grace knocked on your bedroom door, cutting your morning sulk short as she peeked into your room, “Come on, this is your third day of sulking, I’d be a bad friend if I didn’t force you to do anything, or at least talk.”
“I’m just thinking,” you blushed.
“Thinking about Tom, which isn’t doing you any good. Get up, you’re gonna shower and then we’re gonna get coffee and go shopping,” she smiled as she fell down onto your bed beside you.
“I don’t wanna go shopping,” you scoffed.
“Not even at the home store?” she smiled as you suddenly became interested, “I think I’m ready to admit I need a little help decorating my room.”
“Really?” you sat up excitedly.
You’d been begging her to let you help her decorate her room since you two moved in together, but she was insistent on doing it herself. It was the one room that was all hers to decorate, but she was far too indecisive to ever finish the project. She’d already gone through two lamps, bought a new dresser, and rearranged the furniture a million times, but she still had no idea how she wanted the room to look. You’d tried giving her suggestions but she never listened, insisting that eventually she’d be able to figure out what she wanted.
She nodded, “Yes, I had my fun playing designer, but I’m ready to have a finished room now.”
“I told you Grace, interior design is serious business,” you laughed, “Alright, give me a few minutes to get ready.”
“Yay,” she hugged you before bouncing out of your bed, “Get out your paint swatches too, I think I want an accent wall.”
“You can’t paint your room, we’re renting.”
“Better to ask for forgiveness,” she sang as she went skipping back to the living room.
You dragged yourself out of bed and went padding into the bathroom. After a quick shower you threw on an old t-shirt and some shorts and let Grace drag you away to a local coffee shop to pick up a couple of drinks before you hit the home stores.
You suggested sticking to a boho, beachy theme to match with her usual aesthetic and Grace seemed happy with that. She also liked your suggestion of peel and stick wallpaper instead of paint. That way she could get her accent wall and you could get your safety deposit back. As soon as you arrived you dragged her past the paint and to the wallpapers, where she began digging through racks for something she liked.
“I’m not super into these geometric ones, and the florals seem kind of old lady-ish,” she knit her brows, “I think I want something green, or tan, maybe blue.”
“I’d go with tan or green,” you hummed.
“Good call,” she moved further down the aisle and glanced back at you for a moment, “We’ll pry have to ask the boys to help us put this up huh?”
You frowned, “Yeah, Haz could help.”
“Okay, does that mean you and Tom just aren’t going to talk anymore?” she pressed.
“I don’t know yet Grace, I mean that’s not really what I want but I’m still angry and everything,” you crossed your arms, “Can we please stick to wallpaper?”
She nodded, “Yeah, I think I like this one,” she pulled out a roll of white paper decorated with deep tan palm trees, waves, suns, and other small, beachy doodles that seemed almost hand drawn.
“That’s really cute Grace, I think it’d look good on the wall you have your bed against,” you squinted at the label on the roll as you tried to find the size, “California dreamin’,” you chuckled at the name, “I think one roll should cover it, but maybe we should get a second just in case?”
“Better safe than sorry,” she chimed, tossing two rolls into your shopping cart, “Come on, I wanna find a night stand too.”
“Alright,” you followed behind her with a frown. Walking through the store was reminding you of Tom, there wasn’t any particular reason really, you just had Tom on the brain, “Why do you think he does stuff like this?”
A/N: Hey guys! Just wanted to remind and ask for reblogs and feedback, they help spread my work and are just fun! I love reading what you guys have to say about my work and if your more comfortable saying things anonymously then my inbox is always open! Anyways love you guys, hope you enjoy xx
Warnings: Fighting, angst, alcohol
Summary: Things don’t go well at Adrien’s party
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❀ ゜.・゜-: ✧ :- -: ✧ :-゜・．゜❀
You yawned and rubbed your eyes as you punched out of work, it had been a long and brutal shift. If it weren’t for Adrien’s birthday party you would have gone straight home and passed out. Unfortunately it was too late for you to back out of going. You could already see Tom waiting in the parking lot, sitting in his Jeep with a big smile. He seemed far too energetic for your liking, but of course it was his day off. The only thing he’d done all day was go surfing. Meanwhile you’d worked a totally slammed eight hour shift with only two other waitresses.
“You seem tired,” Tom commented.
“Yeah, Tiff called out, it was a really long shift,” you explained, rubbing your eyes as you fell into his car, “And I forgot to bring a shirt so we need to swing by my place.”
“I’ve got one in the back, you can wear that if you want,” he offered.
You nodded, “Okay.”
“Why don’t you sleep on the way there?” he suggested.
“I think I will,” you yawned as he reached into the back seat, “I wish Adrien was just having his party at your place or something.”
“He wanted to see some of his friends back home,” he shrugged and tossed his shirt to you, “Why are you complaining? You don’t have to drive.”
“I still have to ride in the car,” you huffed as you pulled his shirt over your head.
“I think you’re just a little cranky,” he snickered, “You’ll feel better after you nap.”
“I’m not cranky,” you glared at him while he buckled himself in.
“Just a little bit I think,” he pinched his thumb and index finger together as he started up the car.
You rolled your eyes, “No, I’m not, asshole.”
He laughed and pulled onto the street, placing his hand over one of your thighs. It was a bit awkward to try and sleep in Tom’s car since there were no doors to lean on. You could have sat in the back and laid down across the seats or leaned on one of the half walls, but it would have been even more awkward to sit in the back while Tom was in the front. Instead you shifted around awkwardly before eventually you laid your head on Tom’s shoulder and started to drift off. Tom rubbed your thigh gently while you yawned and closed your eyes, helping to lull you to sleep.
“Do you want me to turn the heat on?” he questioned.
“Shh,” you pressed your finger to your lips, “Sleeping.”
“Alright,” he laughed, “I won’t say another word.”
You spent almost the entire car ride passed out on Tom’s shoulder, only waking up when he pulled onto a long gravel road and the car started to shake. You rubbed your eyes as you were jolted awake, peaking around to take in the sandy dunes around you. The sun was just starting to set, you were sure the view once you reached the water would be absolutely gorgeous.
“I hope you had a good nap love,” Tom grinned at you, “We’re almost there.”
“Yay,” you yawned and stretched your arms over your head, “Do you know if there’s gonna be a bathroom?”
“Probably not.”
You flushed, “Well do you think there will be one on the way?”
He shook his head, “No, but I can pull over.”
“Pull over?” you blushed, “You want me to pee on the side of the road?”
“What do you want me to do, pull a toilet out of my ass?” he laughed.
“Tom,” you whined, “Come on, I can’t pee on the side of the road, it’s gross. Isn’t there anywhere nearby?”
He sighed, “There was a petrol station a ways back, let me find somewhere to turn around.”
A/N: Hey guys! Here is part two for you, hope you enjoy! I love getting feedback, it’s what helps keep me motivated, so please let me know what you guys think! Also just a side note, a few of my tags for my taglist weren’t working so if you see this and you were supposed to be tagged but you weren’t I am so sorry! Hope you enjoy, love you guys xx
Warnings: Slight angst
Summary: Tom takes you surfing and you vent
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❀ ゜.・゜-: ✧ :- -: ✧ :-゜・．゜❀
Tom arrived at your house at exactly 10 am to find you were still struggling to pull your hair into a braid. Currently you were seated in front of your mirror with a hair tie hanging out of your mouth while you tried to work your baby hairs into the braid. Tom was seated on your bed, laughing while he watched your struggle.
“Why don’t you come here and let me help” he smirked as you started undoing your braid for the third time since he’d arrived.
“I got it, I got it,” you insisted, “I’m just trying to make sure it’s tight enough, I don’t want the hair tie to fall out.”
“Let me help,” he pushed himself off the bed and grabbed your shoulders, “Come sit for a second.”
You sighed and let him pull you away, “Fine.”
Tom sat back down and patted the spot between his legs. You sat in between them and crossed your legs with a small, annoyed huff.
“I can’t believe you’re the one making us late,” he chuckled as he started braiding your hair.
“Well I was expecting you to be late,” you rolled your eyes.
“So sorry to throw you off,” he hummed, “Your hair smells nice.”
“Yeah it’s called a shower, you should try one sometime.”
“Really? I haven’t heard of that before, maybe you can show me,” he teased.
“Why don’t you just ask Jade to show you?” you snapped, your face flushing at your sudden outburst.
“Jade?” he frowned, “Why would I ask Jade for anything?”
“I don’t know, you two were all over each other last night,” you bit your cheek nervously while you waited for him to reply.
“What are you talking about? You weren’t even with me last night,” he knit his brows in confusion.
“I saw you guys making out on Adrien’s story,” you confessed.
Tom suddenly burst into laughter, his head falling forward against your back, “You thought I was making out with Jade?!”
Your stomach started to bubble with anger again, “I saw it with my own two eyes Tom.”
“But I wasn’t making out with her,” he wiped his eyes and fell back onto the bed in a fit of laughter, “We were playing spin the bottle and hers landed on me, I let her give me a little peck but that’s it. I would never make out with Jade, I can’t fucking stand her.”
Once again your cheeks started to burn with embarrassment, “Oh.”
“I can’t believe you thought I’d actually make out with Jade, of all people on the planet,” he held his stomach, seeming unable to calm himself from his laughing fit.
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