wizkiddx

 i'm t ~ 21 ~ too many people overvalue what they are not and undervalue what they are

[wizkiddx]

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master list

TOM

~ just for the record - tom gets caught preparing for a very big moment

~ slow burn - early morning workouts are your way of befriending your costar, even if it’s more like torture

~ you're still creepy bro - Tom turns into the readers knight in shining armour when they get ill during promo

~ 3 hearts broken [part 1] [part 2] [part 3] - an argument between you and tom, except it takes him hurting someone else for you to loose it

~ ‘it’ couple - fluffy blurb- Tom’s not-so-subtle physical affection doesnt go unnoticed by the media

~ hanging high - fluff, actress!reader and tom hungover and on a flight, that's abt it

~ just letting you know - Tom’s terrified to ask your dad a very particular question question

~ reasons why I hate the spiderboy - the father of the brides wedding speech

~ work with me - when tom doesn’t take advice and ends up very ill, very far from home, there’s one person whose stuck dealing with it

~ your voice - tom says something so stupid and has to deal with the consquences

~ supercluster - its toms birthday but he has a few things to get off his chest and into the night sky, y/n joins in with a bit of a revelation too

~ stay stay stay - sometimes tom can be the one in need too

~ sleepy sunsets - picking up tom from the airport blurb

~ living and reviving - when toms caught out all hope looks lost

~ baby bump chats - the story of your pregnancy through toms eyes

~ brotherly advice - tom wants to ask harry if he’s taking things to quick with y/n , which harry takes pure glee in

~ pretty boy face - what starts off as tom taking you under his wing and some sunrise workouts together might just develop into something more

~ zooming - online uni is hard when your boyfriend is intent in being a little shit

~ neutralise the escapee. - little bit of fluff while in quarantine cos you know ... the worlds gone mad

~ honeymoon morning. the morning after the night before, full of fluff and surprise and Tom being a lil jealous of Haz

~nothing’s changed at all - 2 years later and Paddy being a bit of a matchmaker

~ admit you miss me - FaceTime, pining and a pandemic- but still cute and lovey

~ moving on - change is scary and it makes you question the realistic future you and tom have

~ a father and daughter - me trying to write dad!tom and resulting in this

~ stop caring - angst reader has a panic attack and the only person to help isssss

~ a job offer - kinda a part two to stop caring, trying to patch up your relationship a small step at a time

~ or him - soon to be dad!tom predicts your babies gender

~ ...surprise part 1 part 2 part 3 this is angsty too, Tom comes home to found out you’ve been through hell and back while he was away, and he didn’t even know

~ a friendly face - bit if angst but mainly just fluff, read pays Tom a surprise visit when she finds out he’s struggling with the emotional stress cherry brings, while the Russo’ make Tom think long and hard... not just about stage direction

~ ruining the plan isn’t always so bad. Fluff!! completely based off the podcast Dom did after him and Sam surprised Tom filming years ago, but with the added component of y/n

~ two beautiful girls - just tom coming home to you and his 18 month daughter and to cuteness that would ensue

~ unusable faces - famous!reader and tom are worked to complete exhaustion so they sneak off together to find some rest bite

~ in your own way - people are just talented at different things and sometime y/n has to remind Tom that

~ the worst case scenario [part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] - very very angsty , bcos childbirth isn’t always perfect in the slightest COMPLETED

~ birth photographer 2 - harry gets terrified by toms request about the birth of his child, but the reader smoothes it over

~ too early - fluffy blurb!!!! based off Tom’s early morning insta stories that had me melting ahah

~ wasn't expecting that - you run into possibly the most infuriating family members the one time u and ur boy are showing PDA

~ you cant hide - fluff, reader tries to hide being ill from Tom and it doesnt work

~ homework hell - tom struggles to help his daughter with maths homework and chaos descends

~ anti valentine - its hard for Tom to be romantic, when your the most cynical person going 

~ don't make it weird - life is sometimes not good, but your fave boy makes it just a little easier to deal with (with some original help from his brother too)

~ how he loves - the little things he does in boring day to day life

~ perfect no matter what - tom helps you to see your worth

~ bad advice - fluffy blurb, tom seeking Harry's advice on his relationship

HARRY

~ what do I do - first time the reader falls asleep on harry and he’s all scared and nervous and tom is like ugh

~ your song - harry never sings in front of you, until you need it

~ need your person part 1. part 2 - this is very angsty! but Harry really gets the wrong end of the stick of a situation and blows up much to the detriment of the person he loves

~ this bloody door - bad days and bad doors , but something does make it better

~ in the middle - oops only one bed left i wonder if the mutual pining gets outed?

[wizkiddx]

bringing him home

complete fluff, sad lando, and not proofread so apologies x

Not to be dramatic but Lando was done. He’d had a crappy weekend of bad luck, damage, bad strategy and also (he would admit) a bad performance. It was the second last race before summer break, which couldn’t possibly come soon enough. 

He felt guilty. Felt guilty he couldn’t of performed more for the team; guilty he let his frustatration show on radio; guilty he’d been in a crap mood and not let the team even try to pick; guilty that he couldn’t let himself sleep on the plane.

It was a form of self torture. But he couldn’t stop.

He had been short with everyone, but especially Jon- who he knew was only ever trying to look out for him. All he really wanted to do was to get home and crash in bed for some more self loathing.

Mumbling a few quick goodbyes to the part of the team on the same flight as him, Lando swiftly turned his back on his friends to make his usual route.

Landing at Heathrow meant he had his usual, lone wolf routine to get back home. A guy he had known for years - Waleed- would pick him up.

Back when Lando lived in Woking, Waleed had been hired by mclaren to drive him to all the events his calendar was packed with. They had a mutual respect for each other but Waleed was a man of few words. Which right now Lando felt like he needed, a familiar face asking how he was might be enough to send the young man over the edge. 

Car park 2, floor 4, bay number 168. 

That’s where he was off to.

Waleed always came to pick him up from Heathrow. When it was good, Lando would invite a few team members of the preorganised coach to join him. And when it was like it was today, Lando would have only his own company to deal with. 

It wasn’t even home anymore, the young driver lived in Monaco and purely came back for mclaren and for social reasons. And right now he fancied neither. 

But duty called.

Cautiously, not to bring about any attention, Lando peeled off from the large group of mclaren workers who were on their way to the coach stop. With his hood up, shoulders hunched and staring at the ground as much as possible he thankfully didn’t garner any attention. He knew this route like clockwork- down the elevators and across the walkway to the multi-storey; get the lift up four floors and walk left to the back corner. 

Everything felt heavy as he dragged his notoriously over packed suitcase across the smooth tarmac. He just wanted bed.

But as he rounded the corner his mood only got stormier. Waleeds car was definetely not around. Instead parked in his space was a beat up black small car. Grumbling to no one in particular, Lando got out his phone to question Waleed - who was normally very prompt and reliable. 

Before he could though, the slam of a car door shutting directed his attention back to the space he was wishing Waleed was in.

“Car park 2, go to level four , park in bay 168. You don’t make this easy do you?” 

Yes it was sarcastic, but I’m the softest,caring and most gentle way. And Lando felt everything in his body and mind sag, with a familiar sigh.

“I got the afternoon off work, so I guess I turned up.” Lando still stood still, a confused look demonstrating to Y/n she needed to explain. “Max texted me and I think Jon told him you weren’t feeling great. Unfortunately, Max said you were now my problem so…” 

Of course, Jon had told on him. And of course, especially after their little ‘manly’ heart to heart a week or so ago, Max had decieded Y/n was actually the greatest comfort to him. 

“is…is it ok that I’m here? I didn’t want to presume but Max-“ she was inturrupted as Lando started taking great strides and threw his arms round her shoulders.

He didn’t verbally reply, instead nodding into her neck and then pulling her impossibly closer, which she assumed to be a sign he were getting a bit emotional. So she just stayed, hugging him tightly back in return.

Her insecurity was not without reason. Lando and y/n had known each other for years, but only got close and started dating 3 months ago. It had been an immediate perfect fit and felt like the most natural thing in the world. 

But this was the first time she was being exposed to his incredibly vulnerable side, and Y/n did not take this lightly. Especially given the fact he hadn’t really had a choice.

After what was probably not more than 30 seconds, Lando muttered a ‘thankyou’ and pulled away so they were face to face. Only then did y/n really see just how exhausted he looked. The normally glowing, tanned skin was abnormally pale and almost clammy. Unsurprisingly his eyes were sunken in- but worse was sort of dullness of his usually brilliant green eyes. He was more than just tired, he was mentally checked out too. 

“Get inside, left the heater on” she smiled warmly before pressing a quick peck to his lips. Following the instructions almost too well, Lando completely failed to remember his suitcase, which still stood aimlessly in the middle of the car park - from where he had first seen his girlfriend. With a sad sigh Y/n walked back to grab it - placing it in the boot before rounding the car to the drivers side. 

“So, we can go wherever you like. Max said Bristol, said your mums keen to see you.” Lando looked motionless at that, so Y/n attempted another option. “ Or you’re welcome at mine, or we could just got the hotel mclaren booked for you?” Impossibly, Y/n saw his face fall further at the last option, which she quickly crossed off her mental list. 

“‘m just really glad you’re here… wanna be with you.”  He kind of looked embarrassed, fiddling with his fingers as he muttered those words - not appreciating the way Y/n started glowing with warmth to it. 

“I’m by your side no matter what… you deciede where you want us to be for these few days.” 

Admittedly Y/n hadn’t planned such a sad way for her to meet Landos family, but they were serious enough that it was only a matter of time, so why not in hsi hour of need? She also firmly believed being around more people who knew him and could comfort him through it all. And, by the way he talked about them, Y/n wasn’t particularly scared to meet them - they all sounded lovely. She just wanted them to like her. 

“You’ll come to my parents?”

“If thats where you want to be then yes, of course I will. “ Lando nodded and tears started to water, just from how overwhelming the weekend had been compared to how impossibly calm he felt now just because Y/n was with him. 

She’d been prepared for this eventuality after Max described just how bad a state Lando appeared to be in, a little overnight bag and Max’s ‘shortcut’ way to get to the Norris family house avoiding the rush hour traffic. When Y/n held Landos eye contact long enough for him to know she was sincere, Lando leaned over the centre console to hug her tightly once again. 

“I’m really really glad its you here.” He wasn’t evn sure if she coulf hear it- but of course Y/n heard. 

“I’m telling Waleed you said that”

Even when he felt thihs exhausted, self-defeated and shitty, Y/n could make him laugh. He pulled back and just watched as Y/n turned the key in car, then started fiddling with her phone. 

“Right my playlist cos i’m driving and I want no complaints ok?” She shot him a fake serious scowl, before reversing out of the space. 

Lando just watched, watched the way she darted her eyes to the rear view mirror every two seconds  as thought she was taking her driving test again. And the way she bit the right side of her lip as she wound her way through the tighter exit ramps of the car park. And the way her fourth finger tapped to the beat of the Bruno Major song playing - such a small movement even Y/n probably hadn’t noticed she was doing it. Even to her crappy music. 

He was only caught out in his staring later, when her little 11 year old vw polo merged onto the motorway towards his childhood home. Predictably she blushed, rolling her eyes at him, whilst remaining lazar-like focus on the road in front. 

“Stop staring  creep.” He didn’t to that statement, choosing to start his own conversation.

“I really love you, you know that?”

“Of course I do, and I love you more.” Uncharacteristically for her normal driving to the rule book, Y/n took one hand off the wheel and rested it on the centre console - holding out for her boyfriends back. “Now, try get some rest hey? I promisse to try and not crash the car while you sleep.”

“I’ve never felt less relaxed.”

But, of course, he was joking and after an 18 hour journey of the equivalent of tossing and turning in an airplane seat, it took all of 5 mins in the safe and warm atmosphere of his girlfriends car to nod off. 

Because for the first time in a couple of weeks Lando was truly comfortable squeezed into the miniature car to the tune of an artist he normally hated. 

[multiplefandomwritings]

How to be a mum

pairing: reader x the grid (platonically), hinted Pierre Gasly x reader                              

warnings: swearing, assault (someone is punched in the face), description of injuries/bruises, throwing up, passing out, unconsciousness, mentioning of hospital, mentioning of crash

summary: Being the only female driver on the grid basically makes you everyone’s mum - and that with just in your mid-twenties.

notes: feel free to leave comments and/or feedback. likes and reblogs are always appreciated! also, feel free to send in requests! Another part will follow, so let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

disclaimer: English is not my first language, so please excuse any mistakes 😊

word count: 4.1k

Your parents had raised you to be a good, kind, caring and helpful person. Where you could, you helped other people out. On top of that, you were basically illiterate to the word no, it was almost impossible for you to tell other people no. No matter the time or the troubles it cost you, you were always there for others. Essentially, that meant little time to yourself, which you didn’t mind most of the time. You loved helping people, and it made you happy.

So, when you were promoted to Formula One, you almost immediately become the mom of the grid. All the drivers, despite some considerably older than you, needed help or supervision. It was like a crazy playhouse and sometimes you felt like you were the only sane and responsible person. It was a menace, someone always needed something. But then again, you loved to help, and you collectively adopted all of them. Metaphorical, of course. But the last weeks were a lot, maybe too much, and you were exhausted. The different time zones had taken their toll on you. However, when your friends ask you to join for a night out, you agree. It is the Thursday before the race weekend, and Charles, Pierre, Carlos, and you went out to grab some dinner. Mexico is warm and full of life and buzzing, and you had spent an hour looking on the internet for the perfect place to go.

When you arrive there, you are happy to have Carlos with you, as he speaks Spanish. You sit down, you talk, life is good, and you enjoy spending time with your friends. Until suddenly, Charles whinges – he had cut himself God knows how. “Let me see!”, you demand and he shows you the cut on his finger. It isn’t very deep, but it is bleeding a lot. You get your purse, rummage in it for a minute, and pull out a band aid. “You are full of wonders!”, Carlos chuckles while you wrap up Charles finger. “All done!”, you say and plant a gentle kiss on the band aid. Charles blushes and you laugh. “I am sorry, my mum always used to do it to me, so it is a force of habit!”

After dinner, you all enter the car. Charles makes you sit in the passenger seat, even though you would have preferred to sit in the backseat and close your eyes for a bit. But Charles insists, arguing that you give directions the best. So, of course you stay awake and make sure that all of you will arrive safely in the hotel. Before Charles pulls out of the parking lot, you turn around. “Any music wishes you gu-“, you are about to ask, when you realize something. “Put you goddamn seatbelt on, Pierre!”, you scold the guy in the back seat. “Yes mum!”, Pierre jokes, but puts his seatbelt on. Carlos and Pierre request some songs, and the way back is actually quite fun as well.

When you arrive, you say your goodnights and then you are finally on your way to up to your room. You want nothing more than sleep and are already laying in bed in an oversized shirt and short pants when someone knocks on your door. You get up and look through the peephole. In front of your door is Mick and he looks miserable. So, you open the door - of course you do. “I don’t have a seat for next season, they screwed me over!”, Mick says, his voice is breaking. You let him in and end up spending of your night consoling the younger driver. You hold him, let cry, gently play with his hair until he falls asleep. You fall asleep not long after him, holding the blond boy in your arms.

Micks alarm rings painfully early. He blushes and apologizes when he realizes that he fell asleep in your arms, but you wave it off. Once he left, you shower and get ready for your breakfast date with Pierre. Pierre and you had become closer in the last months, and sometimes spending time with Pierre was the only time where you could properly relax. “Good morning!”, you greet the Frenchman, and he engulfs you in a hug. “Are you okay, you look tired.” “Yeah, sure, I am okay!”, you assure him. You enjoy the breakfast; Pierre makes you laugh a lot. Afterwards, the two of you get ready and drive to the track together for Friday testing. You carry a huge bag out of the room and Pierre just laughs before he takes it for you.

The testing goes well, all in all. The car is good this season, you might even land on the podium this weekend. But then again, you are happy when everyone crosses the line safely. And you are always happy when your friends are on the podium, maybe even happier than if you stand there yourself. Sometimes you wonder how you made it this far – while you were competitive and scored good results, you were not as fierce in your ways as most of the other drivers. Still, you managed just fine, and many people saw great potential in you.

After the testing, you hug your teammate, Lando. “You seem to really have gotten the hang on the car, I am proud of you!” He smiles at you. “Thank you, y/n!” You glance down at your phone. „By the way, I think you should get going. You have an interview in 15 minutes!“ He nods. „Oh yeah, thank you for reminding me!” You wave it off. “No problem, and now go! I will see you later!” You rush the boy out of the garage, then you are on your merry way to look for Checo. The man had invited you to stay with his family for dinner and for the night and since you adored his children, you had happily agreed. You carry the bag, that is full of presents for his kids, and a thank you present for Checo and Carola.

“Checo!”, you call out to the older driver. He lights up when he sees you. “Hola, corazon!” Most of the drivers call you nicknames because you are that close with them. Checo for example is like an older brother to you. He pulls you into a hug. “Ready to go?”, he asks you. “Give me one minute, I need to say hi to Max, otherwise he is offended again!”, you laugh and walk deeper into the Red Bull Garage. “Verstappen!”, you yell and like a demon summoned he appears immediately. “Y/n!”, he exclaims, smiling widely. You hated that everyone always painted Max to be an asshole while he really was a ray of sunshine if you were able to gain his trust and friendship. You greet him with a kiss on the cheek and talk to him briefly before you leave together with Checo.

Carola already stands in the door when you arrive, and you practically sprint out of the car to engulf her in a tight hug. “Hola!”, she says laughing and motions for you to come inside. You excitedly bubble to her before you spot the three little kids and you heart becomes even fuller. They almost attack you with love, you speak to them in the few Spanish sentences you know, giving out presents. When they run off to play with the new toys, you turn to Checo and Carola and hand them their presents. “You are too kind, y/n”, says Carola and the three of you hug again.

After dinner, you help bringing the kids to bed, tucking them in, trying your best to read the Spanish children’s books, which results in giggles from all sides. When the kids are asleep, Checo, Carola and you sit up with a glass of wine. You get to bed not too late, and the next morning you and Checo drive to the circuit together.

It’s a beautiful day, the sun is warm on your face and life is buzzing around the paddock. The moment you exit the car, you are swarmed by fans. You sign their stuff, take some pictures, answer questions. You can hear the cameras click. Even though you had been in Formula One for two years now, you were somehow still more often than not the star of the show. Often it was praise, sometimes it was stupid comments, sometimes gossip. By now, the media had attached an alleged affair to you paired with any driver. It was quite fun actually, sometimes you and your friends teased the media. Going out for dinner with Charles on Monday, Lunch with Daniel on Tuesday, going for a walk on Wednesday with Lewis, partying on Thursday with Max, having a late breakfast in the sun on Friday with Lando. Acting like you just got caught. It was the funniest shit in the world to you.

Qualifying went good for you, for Lando as well. You had gotten everything out of the car, and that makes you content. When you drive into the paddock, you are happy and bubbly, spreading good mood. That is, until you look at the little screen in the garage and spot Esteban crashing into the wall. “Oh god, is he okay?”, you breath out before you rush to the medical quarters. The medics tell you that he has to go to the hospital to be checked out thoroughly.

„I will go with him!”, you say without hesitation. Since none of his family was there, you offer to go to the hospital with him, no questions asked. On the ride there, you hold his hand and whisper words of encouragement to him. When you arrive, he is taken by the doctors, and you have to wait. As soon as the doctors tell you that he is and will be okay, you call his family to tell them the good news. When you can go in the room with him, Esteban looks a lot better. You pull him in a gentle hug and make sure that he arrives by his hotel room safe and sound.

By now it’s the middle of the night and you sigh. In a few hours Yuki and you will meet in the gym because he has asked you to show him some meditation and yoga tricks that would help with his mindset. You promised to show him before the race so that he could use it right on track. You decide to sleep the three hours you would get and go to your room.

You wake up feeling completely exhausted. On top of that you had overslept, so you decide to skip breakfast and just head straight down to meet Yuki. It is quite fun, and you feel a bit refreshed. However, by the time you arrive at the track, you find yourself in a low. You are very well aware that you possibly shouldn’t participate in the car, your lack of sleep endangering you and the others. You go to your driver’s room, splash water in your face and then you meet up with your personal trainer. Somehow, you find whatever concentration is left in you, and channel all of it. When going over one last reflex training and everything goes well, you are feeling a bit better about participating. And you are right. You even score in the points, which makes you happy.

After the race, you are scheduled for an interview. Arriving a bit early, it is not your turn yet. Charles is still being interviewed. You watch Charles doing his interview, and for once it seems like you are graced with one minute of peace. Until you suddenly hear someone yelling. “Charles!” “What is that?”, Charles asks and looks just as confused as you. You find the source of the scream before he does. Daniel stands on the balustrade of a roof close by, shouting and waving. You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Be careful, for fucks sake!”, you scream up to him, before you are on your merry way to drag him down there with your bare hands, if you have to.

You manage to get him to step down after a few more shenanigans. You rush down again, arriving just on time for your interview. It is actually a respectful interview for once, the interviewer showing genuine interests for your driving and not for anything else. Somehow, despite your tiredness, you are the best version of you, joking with the interviewer.

After the interview, the debrief happens, and then you head straight to the hotel. Your flight was going tonight because you want nothing more than a few quite days and nights in your own apartment. Pierre had offered to drive you to airport, which you gladly accepted. When you get out of the car, Pierre exists as well and pulls you in a hug. “Get some rest, Cherie, you look tired!”, he tells you and you grin crookedly. “You don’t even know, Gasly!” The two of you hug, and then you are on your way back home.

When you step into your apartment, you almost start to cry. You are so relieved, and you look so much forward to just sleep. You will only spend three days before you have to leave for the next race again, but you full on intent to spend most of that time in bed sleeping and relaxing. You order some take-out food and head to bed right after. Everything is good, until your phone wakes you up in the middle of the nights. It is around four in the morning, and you groan. Max´s name shows up on the screen. You wonder how the fuck he managed to get back to Monaco as quickly as you. You pick up, of course you do.

“Heyyy!”, slurs Max and you know what he wants before he can say something. “Where are you?”, you ask, already half out of bed, “I will come and get you!” You arrive at the club half an hour later, a bottle of water and a bucket with you. You get out of your car, and look for Max. You find him in an alley next to the club, surrounded by two guys. Speeding up, you step in front of Max the moment before one of the guys throw a punch at him. Instead of Max, the fist hits your face, and you almost fall over. You shake your head, and stare down the guy who profoundly starts to apologize to you. You scoff. “I suggest that if you don’t want me to call the cops on you, you get the fuck out of here!”, you threaten, and they leave immediately.

You sling Max arm over your shoulder and manoeuvre the drunk man to your car. He is slumped over, his body weight seems to have doubled, and your face is throbbing. He doesn’t seem to realize what just happens, and instead throws up on your shoes. You have to take them off and drive home with just your socks. Somehow, you manage to get him all the way to his apartment, where you make sure that he drinks some water. He falls asleep as soon as he hits the pillow and starts to snore. You prepare him breakfast, place water and painkillers on his nightstand, and make your way back home – still in socks. When you arrive home, you text him about the breakfast. Your face still aches, and when you look into the mirror, a big purple bruise is already forming, and the skin around your eye is turning darker by the minute. You groan – it would be a pain to cover that up.

You get back to bed, but you cannot really sleep. Your head is killing you, so you get dressed, put a hoodie on and big sunglasses. Luckily, no one sees you in the streets, and you arrive at the doctor’s office without any incidents. The doctor knows you - ever since you lived in Monaco, you came here. He examines your face and tells you that most likely you have a mild concussion, which explains the headaches. He tells you to rest a bit, and if you do that, racing wouldn’t be problem next weekend. You thank him, pick up some of the recommended painkillers, some make-up to hide the bruise and then you go back to your apartment.

You have two more hours of sleep, before your phone rings again. Daniel asks if you want to go and have breakfast with him because him and his girlfriend are having troubles and he needs someone to talk to. You assure him that you can be at his place in latest an hour. You get up, jump under the shower and afterwards you manage to cover up the mark. On the way to his place to pick up some groceries for the breakfast. Half an hour later, Daniel lets you in his apartment and you talk for what feels like five hours. You barely eat for breakfast, the headache and a nauseous feeling overwhelming you. Daniel doesn’t realize, he is just happy you are here, and you are more than happy to help.

This evening, you don’t get to bed as early as you had wished, because you talked with your family and your best friend. You firmly tell yourself, that you would sleep most of the day tomorrow before you would head to the next race. However, your plans are crossed, when Charles calls and asks if you can help him buy a present for his girlfriend. Of course, you accept and spend most of the day out with Charles, visiting different shops and boutiques. When you get home, you pack your bags and go to bed, because you have to get up early to leave for Brazil. You were already not looking forward to the time difference, not knowing if your body could take it.

Lando, Charles, Pierre, Daniel, Max, and you had decided to take the plane together. It was usually more fun than flying alone, but this time you wouldn’t have minded. A bit of peace and quietness would have been nice. However, when you see the boys on the airport, you are happy. They are your friends after all, and you loved them dearly.

“I am hungry!”, Lando whines almost as soon as you board the plane. He sits on the opposite side of you. You knew that this was going to happen. You open your bag pack and whip out 6 neatly packed lunch packages. “I gotcha!”, you tell him and throw him one of the packages. It contains two sandwiches, some cut vegetables and some small snacks. You know all their diet plans, so every package was a bit different. You had gotten up extra early that morning to make sure all of them had something, knowing that they would possibly forget to prepare something.

Lando thanks you profoundly, and you just smile at him. You loved the boys, even though it wasn’t always easy with them. You are still wearing your sunglasses, because the bruise around your eye had become even darker, and your unprofessional attend at make-up didn’t cover it properly anymore. You are not ready to show the boys, because you don’t want them to worry, and you don’t want Max to feel guilty. He had texted you that he remembered parts of the night, and that he remembered how you stepped in front of him. You had assured him that you were fine. Lost in your thoughts, you drift to sleep, your sunglasses still on.

You are awoken barely 30 minutes later by loud music. You almost jump out of the seats, the boys laughing. “Very funny”, you murmur, but have to smile a bit. It could’ve, maybe should’ve annoyed you, but you were not one to hold grudges. “Why are you still wearing your sunglasses, mon ange?”, Pierre teases you and you shrug your shoulders. “Because it looks cool!”, you argue half-heartedly. Before you can react, Pierre pulls them off your head and gasps in the same motion. You try to cover your face with your hands, but it is too late. Pierre´s reaction has drawn all attention on you. “Jesus, what happened to you, y/n?”, Pierre asks, all teasing has left his tone. “Nothing”, you are quick to lie. “Didn’t look like nothing!”, he sounds a bit angry, and you sigh. You remove your hand from your face and show him and the others.

“Oh my God!”, breathes Max out, “So something happened after all?” You sigh again. “Nothing bad, it is just a bruise and a blackeye!” Daniel shakes his head. “You should have told us!” “I know!”, you defend yourself, letting your shoulders hang, “I just didn’t want you guys to worry!” In this moment the guys realize that maybe sometimes they need to take better care of you as well. However, the scope of your state is not yet fully obvious to them.

After you told them the story, Max apologises again, and again, but you wave it off. “Max, I would do that again any day, you are like a brother to me”, you give him a warm smile and hug him. He looks like he feels a bit better, your head on the other hand is killing you. You excuse yourself to the bathroom, where you throw up once. You brush your teeth, put some water in your face and tell yourself to get your shit together. When you return, you sit down again. Pierre sits down next to you, opens up his arms and you gladly accept. Daniel puts a blanket on you, and you sleep the rest of the flight in Pierre’s arms.

You wake up feeling a tiny, tiny bit better. The weekend goes by. You again sleep too little - one of the boys always needing something that you were happy to help with. The devil works hard, but you really worked harder. Qualifying went better than ever and you wondered if you maybe should always need to drive sleep deprived. On Sunday, you almost fall asleep in the meeting before the race, and you know you should probably just cancel the game. But you sit down in the car anyway and start to race.

“P1, I repeat, P1! Y/n, you did it! Your first win!”, screams one of your team members over the radio. You whoop and pump your fist in the air. “Can I do donuts, please?”, you beg, and everyone laughs. You do a couple, and then you drive to your garage, where everyone jumps in your arms, and you cry tears of joy. “Yes, yes, yes!!”, you yell over and over again. On your way to the podium everyone congratulates you, as there is not a single soul on the grid that dislikes you. You had even managed to woo Christian Horner with your kind nature.

When you step on the podium, Max and Charles are there, and you spray each other with champagne. At the end, they lift you on their shoulders, and the fans are going ballistic. You take another sip of the champagne and realise that this might have been a mistake. You feel terrible dizzy all of a sudden when you step down from the podium. Downstairs, Lewis and Seb wait for you. They are about the only guys on the grid that don’t need your help, and act like your parents, rather than the other way around. “Good job kid!”, says Seb and pulls you in a tight hug. Lewis ruffles your hair and grins. “You deserve that win, now go celebrate!” You nod and start your walk to the McLaren paddock. The cameras follow you; you smile and wave for them and for the fans.

At the paddock, all of your friends wait for you. While you are excited and want to get to them as soon as possible, your legs feel incredible heavy and wobbly at the same time. You reach Pierre, who lifts you up and spins you around, which is really not good for you. When he sets you on the ground again, you grab his arms and have to hold onto him. You feel like the ground below you is an ocean, and among the waves you cannot plant your feet there properly. You look up at Pierre. “Pierre”, you whisper, “I think I am about to pass out.” With that, you slump down in his arms. He tries his best to hold you up, slinging his arms around you, keeping you safe and warm. As soon as the others realize, something is wrong, a wall of people is built around you and miraculously, the media misses the fact that you are unconscious in Pierre Gasly´s arms. At least for now.

[wizkiddx]

54321

summary: pierre still finds spa incredibly difficult - and has many an emotion that has built up to explode

pierre gasly x driver!reader

Warnings (pls read!): grief, panic attacks (different for everyone, just my interpretation of it), general anxiety, death (pls pls don't read if any of these could trigger u - inbox is always open if u need to talk) xxx

///////////////////////////////////////////

“Y/n! We’re late!”

“Yeh I know-I know I’m comin-“

“Now 3 minutes late and the bus is-“

“Yeh I know! I’m coming!” You practically screamed as you smoothed out your mclaren team uniform, taking one last glance in the mirror of your drivers room before yanking the door open. Max, your press officed, was glaring at you from the other side, before immediately spinning on his heel to lead you down the papaya lined corridors. 

“You’re getting a reputation for being late you know.”

“It’s not my fault! There was just this really cute kid out there and they were a massive mclaren fan and-“

“You need to learn to smile and wave. Because really you know if you are late it’s my job that’s at risk and-“ You already tuned out Max’s lectures - you got them at least once a day so really it was part of an everyday occurrence. 

The two of you had come to an unspoken conclusion. You would never change and neither would he. So the lectures were here to stay. 

Being a rookie in their first season, there obviously is alot of eyes on you and media was important. But there was just so much. It was eye watering. Today, for example, it was qualifying day. As in big important day. And yet, you had spent at least 3 hours doing media. 

And now you were late for the drivers parade. A stupid tradition where all 20 of you got on the roof top bus and make small talk, whilst waving to the crowds. Honestly it seemed a bit outdated, though it was a nice chance to chat to the other drivers - actually further away from prying mics and cameras than in the paddock. So small victories. 

This one seemed particularly annpying though, just because the lap in Spa is so so long. You’d be on the bus for ages, because there was no way it was going up eau rouge with any speed. 

You didn’t want to keep all the other drivers waiting, it was on their time too after all. So you and Max jogged through the paddock, dodging everyone shouting your name, to get into the FIA building. It was the area of the pit garage which wasn’t controlled by a team, instead the FIA. It was where you got weighed after the race, and all the other box ticking activities. 

Just as you entered the covered over area, a swarm of blue and white clouded your vision, one of them heading straight for the two of you. 

“Max you haven’t seen Pierre have you?” A thick french accent from the tall brunette, who you quickly pieced together as always being with the french alphatauri driver he was trying to locate. Either a coach, engineer, PR or friend you assumed. He completely ignored you, directing the question solely at Max. 

“Not from our direction, you ok?” Max had apparently - for once- picked up on mood and asked the man if everything was alright. To be fair, it was pretty obvious, he was sweating and looking round frantically.

“He’s not doing so great and now he disappeared and- I actually shouldn’t probably be saying this.” He looked like he wanted to leave the conversation, shuffling from foot to foot. 

“No worries. You go, we’ll keep an eye.” You butted yourself into the conversation as the man smiled thankfully before already making his way out. 

“That was weird” Max muttered under his breath, as the two of you started walking again. Agreeing you nodded, biting your lip in the hope it genuinely was nothing and Pierre had just been taken for an interview or a fan or something. 

“Who was that by the way? I’ve seen him around but never…”

“Oh thats Pyry, yeh Pierre and him kind of keep themselves to themselves but I know him back from when we both worked in Indycar so.” 

“You think Pierres okay?” You spoke to Max in between greeting a few FIA people as you entered the ‘holding pen’ full of drivers before you got on the bus. 

“Sure it’s nothing, right can I trust you to stay here and go on the parade without risking my job again? You were rolling your eyes at his sarcasm, ready to slap back with a crass word except something quite quickly popped into your mind. He saw you freeze and instantly read your mind. “SERIOUSLY?”

“I’m sorry I just didn’t get a chance to go before we left the team and the bus is gonna be long and I really need a wee!” 

“You are so lucky that gaslys gone awol otherwise-“

“You love me really!” You ended the conversation, jogging toward the toilet facilitates in order to piss the guy off as little as possible. The FIA toilets were hardly glamourous, just hidden round a series of soon to be flat packed corridors leading to three stalls and basic sinks opposite. They had only become unisex toilets after your first race - where you found there were no womens toilets as apparently before there wasn’t a need. Safe to say you were furious at that. 

As you rounded the corner, a noise struck you - making you stop in your tracks and look around. It was as though someone was panting or having an asthma attack- whatever was happening they appeared to be gasping for breath. Tiptoeing further into the toilet, not wanting to scare whoever it was, you crouched down. From that angle you could see a hunched body sitting with there back to the cubicle door. The gasping only got louder, it sounded like they were really in trouble, so you knew you had to do something. 

You knocked lightly on that door before calling out a soft hello. You saw the person flinch, clearly a bit shocked, and momentarily silence fell over the cubicles. 

“Hey, um, I just wanted to check if you needed anything?”What sounded like a muffled sob escaped the person, before a cough and then a rasped reply. 

“C-cant breaathe.”

“Do you have an inhaler or anything?” Thinking this still could be an asthma attack you were primed to run to the medic tent or something. 

“F-feel like….like I will die.”

It was those words that gave it away. A heavy french accent that so normally was coupled with a cocky smile. It was remarkably different to normal, but then Pyry’s words echoed in the back of your mind. ‘He’s not doing so great’.

And then you put it all together. Spa. Anthoine. Pierre. 

“You’re not going to die Pierre, but we should try and get your breathing under control okay?” You spoke in a measured, calm tone to the closed door you were now crouched infront of. 

“Can’t-can’t breathe.” He just responded in a shaky tone. 

“Can you turn around and open the door? It might help to get some fresh air in?” There was some huffing and puffing, but eventually the door cracked open. He was still sitting on the floor and looked through the crack with a terrified suspicion. “It’s okay it’s just me in here…Y/n - is that okay?” With the confirmation there wasn’t an audience, Pierre allowed the door to fully open as he sat crosslegged - clutching his knees. 

He was in head to toe alpha tauri merch, but that wasn’t the striking thing. He looked so small and scared hunched in a ball as he continued to gasp for breath, his eyes red and shining. He looked broken. 

“Good job okay, so have you ever tried grounding before?” He shook his head violently, and you shuffled forwards to sit directly opposite him. He may not have tried it before, but you had always found grounding helpful - so maybe it was worth a try. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll talk you through it. Can you tell me 5 things you can see?”

“Wha-what do you-“

“I know it sounds silly but sometimes it helps. 5 things you can see?” He looked at you, still gasping and trembling, but also with a quizzical look. 

“uhm I see…. I see you…”

“Good, thats one, what else can you see?”

“uhm the-the door?” He looked at you almost unsure, so you gently nodded in order to get him to go on. “and the-the sinks?”

“Doing really good, can you get two more?”

“I-I see the toilet paper and-and the toilet?” He briefly looked round to the loo before speaking, and you let out a gentle chuckle.

“Yeh admittedly not very glamourous, but you did really good. Now can you try and tell me four things you can feel? It could be the ground your clothes, anything.” 

“I-err” He took a few more fast breaths before continuing.”the tiles on the floor, the-the shoes I wear?” Again he looked at your for encouragement which you gave, both by nodding and offering your hand out. It was a simple gesture, because sometimes you ran out of things to say for this category and someone elses hand counts. “I feel my shirt collar and-and you.” He squeezed your hand gratefully and you smiled, moving onto three things he can hear. He said the crowd (which you could hear the quiet rumble of everywhere), the leaking tap and your voice. At this point his breathing was a lot better though he was trembling. By no means was he okay - but he didn’t seem in the flight or fight stage anymore. 

“Okay now two things you can smell?”

“In a toilet?” He retorted back, making the both of you laugh - him wetly, and you could tell he was only laughing for your sake but you took it. 

“Humour me.”

“Ok…well-well the toilet-“ You shook you head and rolled your eyes playfully. “and-and your perfume.” He answered honestly and you smiled, noting to buy another bottle of it - if it can overpower a toilet then thats a win. 

“Now one thing you can taste, but I always carry these in my pocket because this one is a difficult one.” You held out a packet of mints, offering out to Pierre. He smiled smally before accepting your offer and popping the white polo into his mouth. 

“Is this not cheating?” 

“Yeh maybe a bit. So what one thing can you taste?” 

“Mint.”

“No way!” You exclaimed sarcastically and Pierre chuckled a bit at you. “How are you feeling now?”

“Well I can breathe so thats a bit better.” He was still almost whispering and you could still tell he wasn’t okay. With the hand he was holding you squeezed lightly before, cautiously, asking your next question. 

“Sometimes it can be helpful to talk about whats going on?”

“I don’t really talk about him.” That sounded like a pre-programmed response, one he used for the media, used for friends. 

“Anthoine?”

“Yeh” He nodded, looking defeated. You decided the change tack. You told him to shuffle up, and then you sat right next to him - you were both sat against one wall of the toilet cubicle, feet pressed against the other wall. 

“I lost a friend, Mia, when we were 20 last year. And it’s weird because I didn’t use to think of her everyday, because there was no need, she was there living her life and I was living mine. But then, when she died, everything changed. I feel like I have to think about her, to keep her memory alive. But I wasn’t ever thinking about her life, I was thinking about death and missing her. It was unsustainable.”

“Toino was like my brother.” You hadn’t expected him to speak up but almost immediately he launched himself into words and thought that had clearly been on the tip of his tongue for so long. “And everyone just keeps carrying on but I don’t feel like I can. Not like that.”

“Like the world keeps on turning for everyone else but for you-“

“ oui… and we come back here every year and I drive round where he died and I live it again and again and again… And you are right, I don’t think about his life, I think about his dea-“ He cut himself off when his voice broke, covering his face with his hands as he broke down. 

There was nothing to be said. You just sat with him, your side pressed up next to his in the squashed cubicle. He cried for a little bit, letting it all out. You just stayed quiet, watching the blank wall in front of you. That was until a couple of moments later, when the man beside you spoke up again. 

“Thanks for… well for knowing what to do.”

“It’s ok, anyone would help. It’s just how I’d want someone to treat me too.” You felt his eyes on you, looked over to see his eyes burning a hole in your head with there intensity. 

“It happens… it happens to you too?”

“I have panic attacks yeh, I’m used to them but it doesn’t make them any less scary when they happen.”

“I only had since Tonio and only once or twice but… I just feel like somethings wrong with me.” You sighed quietly, heartbroken to hear the way he was speaking. Before this you’d had a maximum of three conversations - mostly were small talk about the weather. But you couldn’t not feel empathy for the man sat next to you. 

“Nothing is wrong with you, we are all just human. And sometimes its shitty but thats the way it is. You think you’ll be okay for this afternoon?” This afternoon meaning qualifying. Pierre shuffled, before nodding, again catching your eyes. 

“I think so - I’m just tired.”

“Panic attacks are draining. Luckily we still have-“ Checking your branded watch you smiled gratefully. You would’ve missed drivers parade now. Silver linings and all. “- three and a half hours and a pre-race nap is part of my routine. I’m sure you can talk to Pyry and squeeze one in?”

“You know Pyry? Sorry just realise we haven’t spoken alot.”

“No no don’t be, and I just bumped into him today actually. Are you feeling ready to…” The blonde took a shuddering breath, as if to steel himself. The two of you stood up, exiting the confined toilet cubicle and out by the sinks. 

“Oh putain!” Pierre cursed quietly as soon as he saw himself in the mirror, his red eyes, flushed and tear stained cheeks. You had to snicker at that - even if you felt bad for him it was weird to see the normally oh so confident and oh so put together driver unhappy with his appearance. It was nothing a splash of water couldn’t fix though, and just before you were about to leave, Pierre grabbed your arm. 

“Seriously thankyou Y/n and…and I’d appreciate it if this stayed between you and me.”

“You don’t have to thank me and you don’t have to worry either. If you do want to talk or anything too I’m always- this sounds stupid.”

“No no thankyou for the offer. It umh- it was good to properly meet you. Y/n” He offered you a hand, to which you shook with a shy smile.

“You too Pierre, if I don’t see you before the race - you’ll do great.”

“You too Y/n” 

You left the toilet with a quiet smile, the two of peeling off to your respective crews. Pyry was waiting around just on the left and you saw him wrap an arm round Pierres shoulders as he led him towards the motorhome. You smiled to yourself, grateful that Pierre was doing a bit better than before. That was until you saw Max and new you’d be in shitloads of PR trouble. 

“Max! I’m so sorry I swear I can expl-“

“Y/n I’m actually not about to lecture you!” He almost laughed, to which you cocked you head at, as he started leading you through the paddock again. “I came to get you but heard you talking to Pierre, thought it was best to give you both a bit of privacy.”

“Oh thanks mate, I appreciate thtat alot.”

“No stress, and I’ve already smoothed everything over with the FIA and organisers for you both missing the parade. So just so you know you owe me - big time.” 

“When do I not Max?” He just laughed, patting you on your back before heading off down the paddock. 

////////////////////////////////////////////////////

The rest of the weekend was pretty much run of the mill. Your qualifying was pretty good, coming out P4 and beating both mercedes and checo and lando - so a pretty decent result. You’d only seen Pierre brefily as you passed him in the paddock. Maybe he actually hadn’t seen you or maybe he was playing it cool and pretending the morning never happened - if so you didn’t really mind, he clearly had stuff to work out and understandably you were low priority. 

Sunday morning was pretty overcast, but you quickly and efficiently completed all your media and team commitments with two hours before you were needed back in the garage. So you and your coach Eddie had escaped the madness in your motorhome - provided for you by the team. It was a welcome escape from the chaos of the paddock and garages, where you could shower, relax, get changed and generally decompress. Determined to make use of the facilities you decided to shower then have a pre-reace nap in the bed at the back. 

You left Eddie in the communal area as you showered, hence why you were  surprised when you turned off the basking hot water to hear three voices from the otherside of the door. The motorhomes were supposed to be super private- only personal guests of the drivers were allowed in. So who on earth Eddie was having chit-chat with was beyond you - even mclaren personnel werent supposed to be allowed in without your say so.

COonfused, you hurried to put on your fire-resistant ‘unders’ layer - in order to be race-ready and because they were pretty damn comfortable. Quickly checking yourself in the half fogged up mirror, you accepted the fact you did look like a drowned rat and whoever it was would just have to deal with it. As you opened the door, the hushed conversations halted immediately, silence overtaking the motor home as all eyes fell on you. Especially some piercing blue ones. 

“Y/n, I hope you don’t mind but Pyry and Pierre wanted to catch up with you and I thought you wouldn’t mind-“ Your coach spoke first, gesturing to the two men sitting bolt upright on the edge of the little sofa. 

“No no, of course not! Sorry I just got out of the shower but erm… well it’s nice to finally meet you Pyry.” 

“The pleasure is all mine” He spoke with such a french smoothness, one that no doubt melted alot of peoples hearts before. “But Eddie and I will leave you alone.”

“Oh will we know?” Eddie almost squacked, making you stifle a little laugh at his almost offended face. He looked to you questioningly, to which you replied. “Go have an hour or two off, I was only going to nap anyway.” He looked slightly rejected, standing up slowly as he followed Pyry to the door.

“I’ll be back when you need prep for the race, and if you need anything just give me a call.” He was being overprotective and you knew it, but it was also endearing. True to your word, you hadn’t told Eddie or anyone else about the incident with Pierre yesterday. Of course Max, yoru PR manager, had overheard- but he was surprisingly being quite reserved with it. So when Eddie saw the biggest player in the paddock suddenly wanting your attention alone - his distrust was understandable. 

With a final quizzical look Pyry dragged poor Eddie out the motorhome, leaving just you and Pierre now standing awkwardly opposite each other. 

“Do you want to…” Jiltedly you offered him a seat on the sofa - cutting through the cold atmosphere. 

“I’m sorry this was Pyry’s idea.” Pierre muttered, refusing to meet your eyeline. But you saw enough to know his eyes were deep and sunken. He looked tired and broken. 

“No no don’t apologise!… But er, what was Pyrys idea?” Letting out a little embarrassed huff, Pierre continued. 

“Well, I-er-I told him about yesterday in the-the toilet and well I didn’t sleep las night but I tried the 54321 thing and it worked but I still cant completely calm down and-and so Pyry said maybe if you helped yesterday you could help now? I know it’s a stupid idea and probably don’t have time so I can just leav-“

“Pierre!” You had to physically interrupt his ramblings or you thought there would be a high risk he’d never stop. “I’m glad you came. And as I said to Eddie, I was just planning on taking a nap anyway - and in the nicest way it looks like you need it too.”

He looked gobsmacked - mouth literally hanging open- at what you thought was a pretty unsurprising answer. But then maybe, he really hadnt expected it. Which made sense - you were hardly friends, and now you were casually offering to nap together? 

“You-you are sure? It isn’t weird?” His french accent came out a little more which was incredibly endearing, as you patted the space next to you on the bed. 

“Not to me. And if it makes you feel more comfortable-“ you paused, clambering to the sofa and stealing all the decorative papaya cushions from it.” - heres a pillow wall so this is your side and this is mine.” 

The normally supremely confident blonde man still looked like a deer caught in headlights, but you were well aware this wasn’t at all his normal. Agreeing with your plan, he took his coat off and placed it on the sofa before clambering on to his side of the bed. And then there was silence for a bit, both of you staring up at the ceiling with a wall of pillows beside you. It gave Pierre time and space to speak freely - something which you kind of knew he needed. 

“You were right yesterday. I think of his death, not of his life… I try but I-I constantly disappoint myself and-and him.” He sighed, giving you a chance to figure out what the hell to say in response to that.

“Okay well, tell me about him. What is your earliest memory of him?” The lack of response was deafening, you were worried you might’ve overstepped. But then the top pillow of the wall, the one that was blocking your vision of his head, was whipped away. Both of you turned over on the bed - still otherwise seperated- but looking deep into his eyes. 

“He-he was my brother. We met only when we were tiny…”

And Pierre spoke and spoke and spoke. Spoke about meeting as eight year olds, both with unruly long side-swept hair that looked ridiculous. He spoke of their first arguement after a karting incident which he only now admits as his fault. He spoke about living together for half a year when they were both in the early part of their career. He spoke of holidays hiking, hours in the gym, staying with his family. He spoke the story of Anthoine, from his perspective. 

You sensed where he got near the ending. His free, almost rambling speaking, only pausing to consider how to say what he was thinking in english, changed. It became jilted, more tense, more stuck. Before it became overwhelming for him you interrupted. 

“He sounds a bit like you, you know? A bit less arrogant, less of an arsehole, but a bit like you.” Pierre chuckled, taking in a breath and closing his eyes before responding. 

“I see why you say that, but he was not like me at all . Not really. I…I think thats why I needed him. Why I still do I guess.” 

“ I don’t think it’s like that, not really. People sometimes bring out something in ourselves we don’t easily find. The right person, they fit in the right way, the equal and the opposite. It’s balance. When I lost my friend, I realised all the parts of me that I didnt have but they did. The bits she couldnt fill in for me anymore. She was funny, she was a sarcastic pessimist, she was so innocent and she was so brave. She was brilliant.” 

“She sounds like a contradiction.” Pierre noted and it made you chuckle a bit. 

“She was and thats what was so beautiful about her. But, the point is, only when I lost her did she teach me the most. Because instead of relying on her to be those things, I had to learn to do it for myself. I embraced her and all her weird quirks. It-it might sounds stupid, but I feel like she really does live on in me. Her death changed me- it was so hard and so shit. But I changed for the better. I grew to be more like her… I still sometimes joke with her in my head. When someone says something we have an in-joke about. I hear her laugh. They are with us, I think. They will always be.” 

There was silence again for a few moments, but it wasn’t uncomfortable or awkward. It just was. 

“When did she…” He didn’t finish off the sentence but you knew what he meant. 

“2 and a half years ago. Cancer.”

“putain” he muttered under his breath, making your eyebrows quirk into the pillow.

“Putin? Like Vladimir?” 

“No-no cherie” he half laughed at your confusion “it is french. It means um shit or fuck.” 

“Oh ah, well yeh putin indeed.”

“No, Putaine!”

“Pootain?” You butchered, but Pierre knew it was best to admit defeat.

“putain.” He agreed, both of you looking at each other in a serious deadly silence that lasted about 3 seconds until you both burst out laughing. 

It wasn’t that funny but the laugh was needed. So you both laughed. 

It took a minute of two for you both to calm down, but when you did you both reverted to the same positions you were in before. Facing each other, eyes locked with each other. 

“You think you’ll be able to sleep for a bit?” 

“I thinik…”He took a minute, literally to think, you could see the cogs turning. “I think I might… it feels less…less crushing.”

“Thats a good start.” You genuinely smiled over at him, it felt as though you could see the change in his face. He still looked like shit - or merde, as you now knew. But there was something about his eyes. They looked calmer. “Goodnight Pierre.”

“Goodnight Y/n.”

You woke up instinctively, to the noise of the motorhome door opening. Craning your neck up, you gave Eddie a sleepy smile as he tiptoed into the motorhome, followed by Pyry just on his shoulder. Given Eddies much calmer demeanour, even though you were now actually in bed with Pierre, you assumed Pyry must of said something to him. Otherwise god knows, you’d half expect Eddie to remove Pierre from the motorhome himself. He was like your overprotective dad but so much worse. 

Pierre. You looked back from the doorway to the guy to your left. It was only at that point you realised the both of you had barely moved. The pillow wall stood strong, except from the removed highest one, which meant you could see the frenchman. Facing towards you, you noticed things you never had before about Pierre. His almost fluffy stubble, that contradicted the sharp jawline it framed. How surprisingly long his eyelashes were, almost dusting the surface of his undereye. How peaceful he looked. When he didn’t have the smug smile or flirtatious eyes, maybe his face would be tolerable. 

“45 minutes till you need to be in garage, thought it was time we  started warm-up.” Eddie spoke in a hushed voice, getting your attention from the man beside you again. You nodded in agreement, then tried to work yourself out the bed without moving it to disturb Pierre. You weren’t his coach, but you could tell the man was in desperate need of sleep. Even if it wasn’t his usual way to prepare for a race you thought Pyry should maybe make an exception and allow him to sleep for longer. 

“You guys can stay in here as long as you need. We can warm up in the garage right?” You looked from Pyry to Eddie, all of you keeping your voices low. 

“You are a miracle worker, thankyou from the both of us.” Pyry looked almost relieved, making you blush. 

“I didn’t do-“

“You really did. Thankyou, and goodluck for the race.” 

With one last look at the man curled up in your bed, Eddie lightly pulled you out of the motorhome. 

You needed to concentrate. You had a race after all. 

let me know what u think - and pls pls if u need my inbox is always open x

[thebearchives]

daddy day care | PG10

PAIRING: dad!pierre gasly x mom!reader

REQUESTED: [X] yes [] no

WORD COUNT: 3.3k

SYNOPSIS: you and charlotte leave your children home with their fathers to go and enjoy a day out. what could possibly go wrong?

WARNINGS: fluff!!!, dad!piarles (need i say more?), piarles banter, kids being kids, french + translations

as always, don't be a ghost reader!

“are you sure?” you couldn’t hide the worry seeping out of your words, “i can cancel if you want, we could just spend a night in with the leclercs.”

pierre’s hands rubbed up and down your arm in an attempt to soothe you, “mon coeur, we will be fine. you and charlotte have been planning this day out for weeks, you deserve to go out.”

to ease your apprehension, he couldn’t help but crack a joke, “i feel like i should be insulted you think i can’t handle being at home with anthoine.” 

you let him pull you close, resting your forehead just under his collarbone. you couldn’t help but feel guilty, “it’s not like that, i promise. i’ve just never been away from him for this long.”

pierre squeezed you into a soft hug, “i know, ange. we’ll be fine, though. really.”

you felt small hands wrap around your leg, and a small voice called out from beneath you two, “maman! tenez-moi!” hold me!

you opened your eyes to see your mini blue-eyed devil staring up at you, hands tugging on your pants. you felt all your worries melt away, a smile replacing your earlier frown as you pulled away from pierre to pick him up.

“you’re getting to be quite the big boy, twannie, i don’t know if i can hold you anymore.” you teased the four year old in your arms. the younger boy looked rather confused, looking over at his father for some help.

“ta maman se fait vieille,” pierre couldn’t help but laugh when not one, but two hands swatted his chest, one significantly smaller than the other. your mommy is getting old.

anthoine wrapped his arms around your neck, a pout on his lips, “maman est petite! vous êtes vieux!” mommy is small! you are old!

you giggled at his words, and the shocked look on pierre’s face, planting a kiss on your son’s head, “merci, mon grand. et c'est jeune, pas petit.” thank you, big man. and it’s young, not small.

the boy in your arms basked in your affection, “maman est jeune!” mommy is young!

pierre tsked, hands reaching out to take his son out of your arms, “look at what you’ve done, y/n.”

“tu as passé trop de temps avec maman,” he frowned at anthoine, who giggled and tried to unfurrow his father’s eyebrows. you've been spending too much time with mommy. 

“papa n'est pas vieux,” daddy is not old, pierre turned to you with a pout, “what are you telling him? i’m only a few months older than you!”

anthoine grabbed his father’s cheeks, turning pierre towards him, “papa! je ne comprends pas.” i don’t understand.

before anthoine was born, pierre and yourself had decided that you would raise him up to be fluent in french, before integrating english into his day-to-day life when he began school. pierre had been the one to bring up the idea, and after four years of pierre blurting out the most inappropriate sentences in front of your unassuming son, you could easily tell why.

you smirked, “papa dit qu'il est beaucoup plus âgé que maman.” daddy said he's much older than mommy.

pierre rolled his eyes and grumbled, “i’ve had it with you. you need to leave so i can unbrainwash our child.”

anthoine’s pout intensified and you cooed. he was so much like pierre it was entirely unfair. 

“twannie, papa est jaloux que tu sois le petit garçon de maman.” daddy is jealous that you're mommy's little boy.

anthoine gasped, turning around to wrap his arms around pierre’s neck, “c'est bon, papa! je t'aime aussi. je peux être le petit garçon de maman et de papa!” it’s okay, daddy! i love you, too. i can be both mommy and daddy's little boy!”

pierre’s expression was utterly soft, his eyes filled with adoration for the little boy in his arms, “te t'aime plus que tu ne le penses, mon petit coeur.” i love you more than you know, my little heart.

the beautiful moment was interrupted by the doorbell chiming.

anthoine gasped, kicking his legs as a sign to be let down, “juliette est là, papa!” juliette is here, daddy!

you followed the speedy four-year-old to the door, moving him aside to open the door. on your porch stood a pierre’s best friend, his wife, and a little girl. juliette leclerc.

said girl exclaimed loudly when she saw your son, “tony!”

“jules!” 

the two met in the middle, arms wrapped around each other as greeting. your son pulled back first, intertwining his hand with juliette’s before tugging her further into the house.

“mon dieu, they’re like two peas in a pod,” charles shook his head at the two kids before giving you a smile and a hug, “nice to see you again, y/n.”

“likewise,” you returned the hug, “and don’t act like you and pierre aren’t the same.”

charlotte stepped inside the house, giving you a quick hug and greeting, “yeah, you two are just as bad, if not worse.”

“yeah, yeah. if it weren’t for us, you two wouldn’t be the best of friends either.” pierre came around, giving the couple a nice welcome, “come on in, guys.”

in the living room, the two four year olds had already pulled out all of anthoine’s blocks, building a large building.

“papa, look!” juliette had all but shrieked when she saw charles walk through the corridor, “regardez ici, c'est un podium!” look here, it’s a podium!

unlike pierre and yourself, the leclercs had decided to integrate some english into little juliette’s vocabulary, but with the amount of french-speakers in her life, she tended to only speak in french.

“wow, ça a l'air tellement vrai! est-ce que ma voiture va être sur le toit?" charles gasped to entertain both kids. wow, that looks so real! is my car going to be on the top?

anthoine shook his head, pointing at the alpha tauri car held in juliette’s hand, “non, tonton ferrari! c'est papa! il est le plus rapide de tous!” no, uncle ferrari! it’s daddy! he’s the fastest of them all!

initially, charles had been dubbed “tonton char”, until anthoine found out that his aunt was “tatie char” and felt that they both deserved to not have to share the same name. since then, charles became “tonton ferrari” and honestly, the monégasque couldn’t have been happier to be called as such.

“papa?” charles was flabbergasted, “mais, anthoine, tonton ferrari est tellement plus rapide! il conduit une ferrari!” but, anthoine, uncle ferrari is so much faster! he drives a ferrari!

“papa, tonton pierre is super fast! très rapide!” juliette took the car in her hands and pretended to drive it in the air, ultimately stopping at the top step of the podium.

charles gave pierre a dirty look, the frenchman smiling smugly, “you’ve brainwashed my daughter.”

“she’s just got good taste, charles.”

before the two adult children could start arguing, charlotte clapped her hands, “alright. so, y/n are you ready to go?”

you couldn’t stop your eyes from trailing to pierre, who nodded his head and threw a thumbs up. you took a deep breath before turning back to charlotte and gave her a curt nod, “yeah, i just need to go grab my bag and jacket from my room,” you smoothed out your outfit, “this is fine, right?”

“more than perfect. you’re the hottest mama!” she threw you a wink and you laughed when you heard pierre pipe up with a damn right, she is! 

with your jacket on and bag over your shoulder, you kneeled down next to the two kids playing, calling anthoine over. on the other side, charlotte did the same with juliette.

you fixed anthoine’s shirt and hair, “maman s'en va, d’accord? je vais passer un peu de temps avec ta tatie char,” you gave him a soft smile. mommy is heading out, okay? i'm gonna go spend some time with your auntie char. 

“vous partez?” his lips slipped into a pout, hands reaching out to play with the button of your jacket. you’re leaving?

“oui, mais tu seras ici avec papa, tonton ferrari et jules,” you lightly pulled his hands away and gave them a squeeze, “tu vas t'amuser comme un fou!” yes, but you will be here with daddy, uncle ferrari and jules…you will have so much fun!

“je peux vous appeler si vous me manquez?” can i call you if i miss you?

you couldn’t help the soft coo that escaped your lips, “bien sûr, tu peux m'appeler quand tu veux.” of course, you can call me whenever you want.

anthoine had always been rather attached to you, seeing as you two would spend a lot of time at home together while pierre would be out for his work. you and pierre had been working on his separation anxiety little by little, and he had gotten a lot better, but as pierre would softly smile and say, “anthoine loves his maman a lot, he wants to be with her all the time. just like papa.”

and so, with a kiss on the cheek from anthoine, and one on the lips from pierre, you were off, getting into the car with charlotte to enjoy a day out.

at home, pierre and charles gave each other a look.

“well, let’s hope this is easy.” charles sighed, heading straight to the gaslys kitchen, “did you by any chance stock up on those pudding cups that anthoine eats? they’re really good.”

“that anthoine eats?” pierre scoffed, following charles into the kitchen, “you singlehandedly finish every pack we buy. tony eats only like, one a week.”

charles stared at him expectantly and pierre sighed, “top left cupboard, next to the pantry.”

“you’re saying that this delicious, processed cup of sugar,” charles took a big bite of the pudding, “tony only eats once a week?”

pierre nodded, “sometimes, not even.”

charles gaped, and pierre groaned, “close your mouth, c'est nauséabond.” that’s nauseating.

“i’m sorry, how does anthoine exist without this?”

 “same way juliette does,” pierre sat down next to charles.

“but that’s only because charlotte doesn’t let me buy anything for jules,” charles waved his empty spoon in the air, “something about organic and healthy food; no processed sugars, that sort of stuff.”

“who do you think told y/n about that stuff?” pierre smirked, “but y/n is less hard on the healthy eating than charlotte is. she says that we weren’t held on that strict of diets and we turned out fine.”

charles laughed, “her? sure. but you? you are anything but fine.”

pierre smacked charles’ head, “don’t forget that both jules and tony think i’m faster than you. i wonder why?”

charles’ face instantly dropped, “it’s all because of that day we left her over at yours. i can’t believe you would teach a kid lies like that.”

“oh, shut up,” pierre rolled his eyes, “it’s not a lie, i am better than you. who started in f1 first?”

it was charles’ turn to roll his eyes, “that’s because you’re old.”

“papa! maman says it’s not nice to talk about ages!” juliette walked into the kitchen with anthoine trailing behind her, tugging on her dress as if asking her to translate. she turned towards him, “mon papa a appelé ton papa vieux!” my daddy called your daddy old!

it was as if a lightbulb went on his head, “papa est vieux!” anthoine continued, “même maman le dit.” daddy is old!...even mommy said so.

charles laughed loudy, and the younger leclerc looking visibly confused. her mother had never prepared her for such a situation. next to the older leclerc, pierre visibly slumped, head coming down to rest against the cool counter.

“ta maman est très intelligente,” charles leaned over to ruffle the young gasly’s hair. your mommy is very smart.

anthoine smiled widely before turning to his dad, “papa, jules et moi avons faim.” jules and i are hungry.

juliette nodded hurriedly, “si affamés que nous pourrions mourir!” so hungry we could die!

charles pulled juliette up into his lap while pierre got out of his seat and placed anthoine on it instead, “nous ne voudrions pas ça maintenant, n'est-ce pas?” we wouldn't want that now, would we?

both kids shook their heads, giggling behind their tiny hands. 

pierre searched through the kitchen, unsure what to feed the kids, “qu'est-ce que vous voulez manger?” what would you guys like to eat?

anthoine bounced in his seat, “spaghetti!”

“yeah! yummy spaghetti,” she turned to her father, “on peut avoir celui que tatie y/n a fait?” can we have the one auntie y/n made?

charles looked at pierre who pulled his phone out, “well, can we?”

pierre held up a finger, holding his phone up to his ear, “hey! hi, amour…no, no! everything is fine…well, you see the kids are hungry an-...no, i didn’t…but jules said she wants the spaghetti you make…then what do i do now?”

charles watched pierre in amusement, his everchanging facial expressions making him chuckle lightly.

“alright,” pierre put his phone back into his pocket, “je viens de parler à la maman de tony et elle a dit spaghetti pour le dîner, pas pour le déjeuner.” i just talked to tony's mama and she said spaghetti for dinner, not for lunch.

both kids slumped down in their seats and pierre opened the fridge, “alors, à la place, pourquoi pas des sandwiches?” so, instead, how about we have sandwiches?

“okay, can we play until you are done making the sandwiches?” jules asked, already moving to get off her father’s lap.

charles laughed, “okay, but come when we call you okay?”

anthoine copied his friend’s movements, nodding–though he didn’t understand a thing–before running off with the leclerc girl.

“he did not have a single clue what i just said,” charles threw away his pudding cup.

pierre nodded, “nope, but jules will probably explain it to him.”

“do you not forget that he can’t speak english sometimes?” charles grabbed two pieces of bread to make juliette’s sandwich.

“mm, occasionally,” pierre smiled, “but tony always has the cutest face and then goes ‘papa, je ne peux pas vous comprendre!’ and it’s the cutest thing ever. i hate to say it, but sometimes we do it on purpose because his pout is just so adorable.”

charles hummed, “anthoine’s gonna be the biggest heartthrob when he grows up.”

“i mean, he’s already got jules wrapped around his finger,” pierre elbowed charles.

“absolutely not.” charles stopped assembling the sandwich, “if anything, jules has him wrapped around her finger.”

“as if!”

the argument continued on for the rest of the sandwich making process…and the clean up process. by the time the ingredients had been put back, charles and pierre had just barely ceased their banter.

“anthoine! juliette! les sandwichs sont prêts!” the sandwiches are ready!

charles’ helped both kids with washing their hands. while pierre helped them get seated and put their sandwiches in front of them.

the two fathers sat down across from their kids, snacking on their own sandwiches while participating in the discourse between their children.

not long after, the kids had migrated to playing outside in the backyard. their plates had long since been abandoned, bread crusts and crumbs littering the colourful plastic. pierre had tried so hard to convince the two to eat the crusts but lost the battle.

the frenchman, alongside the monégasque, moved to the outside as well, monitoring their children as they went up and down the slide, and played with their cars. conversation flowed smoothly between the two, bouncing from one topic to the next.

after a few bathroom breaks and trips to the kitchen for some water, the youngest pair of best friends retired to anthoine’s room, bored of the sun and playground outside. 

“they’re so energetic when they’re together.” pierre groaned, head tossed back in exhaustion.

“they’re four,” charles retorted, nearly in the same position as the frenchman, “i can’t help but feel bad for our mums. we were probably just as bad.”

“yeah, but we weren’t four. we were at least seven and higher,” pierre yawned.

“you were seven. i was six. you’re old,” charles laughed when pierre’s hand blindly tried to hit his arm.

“i’m sick of you and y/n calling me old. you’ve got my son doing it, too. what has the world come to?” 

charles’ laughs grew louder as pierre complained, never not basking in his friend’s misery, “you’ll live…”

“oh, for fuck’s sake,” pierre huffed, “do not make another old joke. i will literally kick you out.”

before charles could get a word out, juliette came running back out, anthoine hot on her tail.

“papa! papa!” she grabbed her father’s arm and shook it hard.

charles winced, pulling his arm away from her hands and instead grasping her hands in his, “on ne secoue pas les gens comme ça, juli.” you don't shake people like that, juli.

she stopped, a pout on her face, “okay, but papa, guess what! devinez quoi!”

charles hummed, “je ne sais pas. pourquoi tu ne me le dis pas?” i don’t know. why don’t you tell me?

the girl shook her head, “no, vous devez deviner,” she turned to pierre, “tonton pierre! vouz devinez!” you have to guess…uncle pierre! you guess!

the frenchman made a show of thinking by rubbing his chin, “hmm, tu as mangé tout ton pain?” you ate all your bread?

anthoine giggled, “non! papa, c'était si mal!” that was so wrong!

pierre abruptly rose, grabbing anthoine and hoisting him into the air, shrieks of laughter erupting from him, “une mauvaise estimation? comment osez-vous!” a bad guess? how dare you!

juliette looked at charles expectantly. charles scratched his chin, stumped, “vous avez cassé quelque chose?” did you guys break something?

juliette stomped her small foot, “no! you guys are so bad at guessing.”

she moved towards anthoine, who had just been placed back on the ground, and pulled him in front of her dad, “anthoine a dit que nous aurons un mariage!” anthoine said we will have a wedding!

charles choked on his spit, and pierre’s eyebrows raised at his son. 

anthoine nodded, bouncing on the balls of his feet, “je vais épouser jules! tout comme toi et maman, et tonton et tatie!” i’m going to marry jules! just like you and mommy, and uncle and auntie.

“absolutely not,” charles reached over and pushed pierre’s shoulder, “pierre, get your heartbreaker of a son away from my daughter.”

“but papa!” jules frowned, having heard the refusal, “je l'aime et nous allons avoir beaucoup de bébés!” i love him and we’re going to have a lot of babies!

“merde,” charles felt like his heart was going to explode. 

on his left, pierre’s face was turning red from how hard he was holding back laughter. he did not want either kid to think he was laughing at them.

charles chuckled awkwardly, “vous n'êtes pas un peu trop jeunes pour discuter de ça?” aren't you two a bit too young to be discussing this?

“l'amour, c'est l'amour!” anthoine pumped a fist up in the air, “c'est ce que dit maman.” love is love!...that’s what mommy says.

pierre couldn’t help it, the laughter bubbled out of his chest. charles sat next to him, slack-jawed, unable to believe that the gasly boy had proposed to his daughter so soon. he hadn’t even had the chance to tell her no dating until she was thirty.

with the way charles sat there unmoving, pierre decided to do some damage control, chuckles still escaping his lips, “et si on attendait que vos mamans soient rentrées et qu'on puisse en parler?” how about we wait until your moms are home and we can talk about this then?

both children nodded, running back into the house hand-in-hand.

charles placed his head in his hands, and pierre slapped his back, “mon ami, i think we’re going to share the same grandchildren in the future.”

“pierre, je vais devoir vous demander d'arrêter de parler.” i'm going to need you to stop speaking.

[wizkiddx]

the ending actually made me proper laugh - this is v cute!!!

[wizkiddx]

how do you do it?

oops so I may have had a new adhd ultrafixation and switched up to f1 the past year or so... so i might be back but i don't write holland/ marvel stuff anymore. here's a little fluffy drabble of Pierre gasly - but pls do not think he's my fave driver hehe that u gotta guess...

reader x pierregasly

Looking after Pierre's [fictional] nephew for an evening or two may just impact your life forever.

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Pierre loved you. He loved you like he hadn't loved anyone ever before. It felt different. Like everything had perfectly fit into place. 

Which is why, on his summer break, he wanted to be surrounded by all the people he loved completely. His parents; his sister and her husband and child; his grandparents and you. He rarely got time off, so when he did he was determined to focus on what mattered. And nothing mattered more than family. 

Or so he thought… until his sister saw the family trip away as a great opportunity for child care. Apparently she and her husband had ‘accidentally’ booked a romantic week away for the two of them just the same week. And just assumed that the family would babysit little Mateo. 

Pierre really should be disappointed in her - except he didn’t really mind. He absolutely loved little Matt and spending some quality time with him so closely - well Pierre didnt mind one bit.

Also his brother in law annoyed him incredibly - so he would not be missed. 

After Matteo was dropped off, the whole of Pierres family happily shared responsibility of the little boy. Pierre’s dad was in charge of dinner and his mum, Pacale, then set about getting Teo settled for the night.  but in fact, Y/n had made such an impression on the young tot that Teo asked her to read him the bedtime story that night. Pierre went to say goodnight, but stopped himself at the doorway, leaning on the frame. Teo was cuddled right into Y/n’s side as she read the cartoony book. 

/////////////////////

Y/n awoke to her shoulder being nudged repeatedly, groaning as she tried to shrug it off - to no avail. The room was dark, lit only by a creak of light coming from the door… that she was sure had been shut when they went to bed. Her thoughts were sow as she blinked her eyes awake, trying to shake off the sleepy fog. And then she saw the dark silhouette standing right nect to her. In shock, she jolted upright, blinking rapidly to focus on the figure infront of her. It quickly became apparent she had no need to be scared, the intruder was tiny and with the same button nose as a little person she’d made friends with. 

“-teo?” Croaking, her eyebrows knitted together as she moved to lean up on her side - whilst doing as little to disturb Pierres arm that was still flung round your middle. “Could you not sleep?” He shook his head violently in response, before letting out a small sniffle. 

“had a-had a bad dream.” He pouted, his glassey eyes boring holes into your soul, even in the dim light from the hallway. 

“Oh Mattie” Y/n sighed sadly, sitting p so she could properly wrap her arms round the boy to pick him up onto her lap. Mateo instantly clung tightly to her body, his little legs and arms wrapped round her chest, face nuzzled into the crook of her neck. Not sure what to do, Y/n just held him close and softly ra her fingers through the little baby curls at the bottom of his scalp. “You wanna talk about it?” She whispered, and was answered with an indignant shake off his head against her chest. “Well I’m glad you woke me up Teo, this is what me and Uncle Pierre are here for.” He sniffled slightly, before arching back, sitting up on your middle and looking down at you and then at Pierre who was still softly snoring next to you. 

“Why aren’t you aunty Y/n? Why just Y/n?” 

Kids always had this ability to surprise. And you had exactly zero idea how to answer that. 

“Well kiddo, because your so special we have to earn the titles autny and uncle. Uncle Pierres known you since you were a baby! I’ve not known you that long so I’m not officially an aunty.” He crinkled his eyes, and appeared to look up at the dark ceiling as if in thought. 

“Who gives you the name aunty then?” This felt like a trick.

“ummm… your mummy and daddy and Uncle Pierre too. They’re in charge.” 

“If I was incharge I’d call you aunty Y/n.” Teo whispered for the frist time that evening, as if this was the secret part. Not the fact you were desperately trying to not let him disturb your slumbering boyfriend. He was still shattered from the first half of the season. He needed all the rest he could get. 

“Awh Teo!” You pouted and pulled him in for another hug. “That is why your so cool!” He giggled as you lightly tickled his top. “You ready to try and go back to sleep again?”

Suddenly he looked all shy, hiding his face behind his eyes. 

“When I have a bad dream at home…mummy and daddy let me.. let me sleep with them.” The cogs turned for a little bit, brain still addled by sleep, before you realised what he meant. 

“Oh! Do you want to sleep with me and Pierre?” He nodded shyly again, and you had to hide a little grin at his cuteness. “You know when I get bad dreams, your uncle Pierre holds me tight and protects me from them. Like my hero. Do you think he could be your hero?” You knew the little kid had a fascination with superheros, already owning batman tshirts galore. Superheros wer basically his second language. 

Instead of answering, Matteo just climbed off of you and into the middle of the bed, the space between you and Pierre. It took some adjustment, in fact Pierre huffed and squirmed in his sleep at the disruption, but Matteo ended up snugly under the covers, you mirroring Pierre on your side facing him. 

“Okay kiddo, now give uncle Pierre a big hug ‘kay?” He nodded as you pulled Pierres slightly limp arm round his littlle body, making sure it wasn’t squashing the little kid. Instinctively, used to wrapping his arms round you, Pierre squeezed his little nephew, before relaxing and sagging back into a deep sleep. 

“Night Aunty Y/n” Teo whispered, almost bringing a tear to yoru eye as you saw his little eyes poking out from Pierres arm to look at you. Of course he had said that. It practically made your heart melt. 

“Night night little one, sweet dreams.” 

/////////

It was Pierre who was roused from sleep first in the morning. The soft french light streamed through the little inlets in the blind, giving the whole room a cosy and warm bath of light. Letting out a long sigh, he blinked his eyes open a couple times, enjoying the non-urgency of the morning which he so rarely got during the season. He muffled a wuiet cough, not wanting to disturb Y/n, before properly focusing on his left. Because it wasn’t just his girlfriend. Apparently somebody else had wormed there way into the bed last night. 

Both were still slumbering away but a little brunette figure had stolen Pierres normal spot. Matteo was nestled up in the crook of Y/n’s neck his little palm resting up under her ear. 

Pierre had never ever felt love that strong than in that exact moment. 

After a few minutes just watching the two taking deep breaths, Pierre decided he needed to save this moment forever. As quietly as he could he leaned over the two to the bedside table, where his phone was. Apparently he failed miserably, as he had barely drawn the caemra before Y/n huffed, eyebrows furrowed together, as she blinked against the soft light of the room. She only scowled more when she noticed the camera in her face - before softening as soon as she realised the little boy pressed against her chest. Just this once she might forgive Pierre. Soon he too relaxed back down in the bed, and the couple shared the a silent but incredibly intimate moment, basking in there feelings for one another. 

Pierre was so glad he had this time this summer. The fact he could spend the morning in bed waiting for the kid to wakeup. He didn’t have a gym session to go to, a meeting or a pr thing. He could be in the moment, daydreaming of his future, with his beautiful girlfriend and his beautiful nephew. 

Later that morning, Pascale and Pierre where sat on the porch with a black coffee each, watching Teo madly chase Y/n and Jean round the expansive green garden. 

“I heard it was musical beds last night?” Pascale interrupted the comfortable silence between the mother and son, which had before only been interrupted by Teos distant giggles.

“Hmmm apparantly so, though I slept through the whole thing.”

“You do need sleep my boy, Y/n was only following my express orders.”

“Mama” Pierre chuckled whilst shaking his head, his mother forever being incredibly overprotective. “Teo asked me this morning if I could allow him to call Y/n aunty.” 

“Pourquoi?” Pascale questioned, switching back to her natural tongue. The whole Gasly family made a special effort to speaj English when Y/n was around - not wanting her to feel left out. 

“He was asking her last night. This morning he sat me down to have an ‘important conversation’. he said Y/n earned the name aunty Y/n.” Pascale laughed, putting down the coffee cup on the table. 

“That boy is older than his years.” Pierre nodded, and Pascale finally chose to ask the question. “You think maybe one day she will be?… you know, officially an auntie… a Gasly?” Pierre kept his eyes down on the garden, on the way Y/n spun Teo round when he ‘caught her’. But pascale didn’t miss the playful smile that grew on the corner of his mouth. 

“How do you do it maman?” Pascale acted innocent, only shrugging and asking what. Even if she knew exactly what. “You knew I was thinking of that.” 

“Maybe” Pascales smugness made Pierre scoff, before carrying on. 

“I’ve been thinking about it for a while… but this morning, waking up with her and Teo. I want that life with her. I want her to be the mother of my children. I think that shes the one. “

For the first time Pierre turned to properly look at his mum. And her extreme grin half made Pierre take back everything he said. Except he didn’t. 

“You know my boy, we’ve all been waiting for you to realise for months. Not just Teo.” 

“Seriously?” 

“I love her. So does you dad and your brothers and sisters. So do all the kids. So do all your friends. And most importantly she has Teos complete seal of approval.” Pierre followed his mothers gesture straight ahead, till his eyes saw Teo and Y/n both sprinting towards the two of them, both of in fits of laughter. 

“What are you two crazies doing?” Leaving Pierre in a slight state of shock, Pascale pretended as if nothing had just happened, engaging with the two in front of her. 

“Y/n kept catching me! I was Ironman and she was Antman but she beat me!” 

“I thought yuou told me Iron Man was the best hero.” Pascale questioned, while the little boy clambered up onto her side. 

“No. Not anymore. Y/n is my favourite hero.” 

“I’m not a hero Teo. I’m just Y/n.”

“No you said to me Uncle Pierre is your hero. And you protected me from bad dreams last night. You’re my hero.” 

Y/n and Pascale just laughed at how the boys brain worked. The innocence of kids was just unbelievable. But Pierre didn’t, still reeling from the conversation with his mother. He sat with slightly glassy eyes, watching the two important women in his life with the cutest little boy ever. As Pascale excused her and Teo to get breakfast, Y/n looked over to her boyfriend, instantly her face dropping with worry. 

“Hey, whats going on?” She instantly sat next to him on the outdoor couch, arms wrapping round his back. “Talk to me Pear.” He wasn’t even crying but, Y/n knew him like the back of her hand, she knew the little glimmer in his eye which wasn’t normal. Letting out a breathy chuckle, Pierre leaned closer to her, allowing Y/n to lift his chin up to meet her eyes. 

“I’m just really happy.” He smiled, watching how her eyebrows furrowed slightly, eyes searching his for an answer. “Here with all the most important people. I’m happy.” 

Her eyes softened, the worry instantaneously flowing away, as a little smile tugged at her lips. 

“You really are going soft on me aren’t you? Oh wait - you’ve always been like that.” She teased, relaxing back into his chest a little as Pierre weaved his fingers through hers. 

“Only for you cherie… you think one day we coulod have our own little Teo running round?” Pierre noticed the way the breathing seemed to hit pause after he asked the question, as if he’d maybe said the wrong thing. But then she looked up at him, with the softest eyes and whispered. “I am ready whenever you are.”

She was in this deep too. Here for the long run.

With the biggest smile, Pierre pulled her lips against his, cradling her head in both his hands. It wasn’t rushed or heated, instead a calmness that emanated for the both of them. Because neither was worried. After a few moments, they pulled apart, Y/n settling leant against his body, her head resting on his shoulder as thye looked out at the beautiful view from the garden of the rented home. And thats when Pierre knew. He knew what he needed to o next. And suddenly he wanted to go to the ring shop right then because he simply couldn’t wait. 

“I got a few things I need to do first… but we will be a family soon cherie. I promise.”

lmk what u think and if i should keep writing f1 themed stuff!!! <3

[wizkiddx]

3 broken hearts - part 3

part 1 / part 2

idk if anyone is still here lol, but if u are here is the last part of 3 hearts. I found it super recently and thought for the sake of closure i'd post (whether or not it acc gives u that is another matter sorry lol)

i hope you are all well :)

summary: an argument between you and tom, except it takes him hurting someone else for you to loose it

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Tom knew he fucked up. But unlike last time, at the airport, this felt so much worse. Last time, Y/n had just been angry; which obviously wasn’t nice, but wasn’t as sinister as this. When you had left in a sort of frenzy you looked.. well you looked broken. As soon as the door had slammed, in anger at himself, Tom had thrown his mug across the kitchen. Unsurprisingly it had smashed against the cupboard doors as well as splashing the remanent liquid across the kitchen. And then he was angry at himself, both for making a mess while acting like a tantruming child - as well as everything he’d done to you. 

By the time he’d cleared up the mess - in what was quite a calming process- he realised the real pressing issue. It had him running out the front door, standing in the rain in the storm, looking across the road to where he had seen your car - what must’ve been hours ago. To his horror, his heart dropped. Your car was gone, so you had driven in the state you had left in. 

That was really scary to Tom. Because he didn’t even know if you were safe, if you had made it home or if you were in some ditch somewhere. Jogging inside, he went straight to Harry’s room - asking him to drive over to yours. With a sigh, Harry hauled himself off his bed - able to tell from Tom’s face, and the raised voices he’d heard, that the conversation didn’t go great.

The whole way over, Tom was frantically scanning the roadsides, as if expecting to see your car upside down hidden in the bushes. Otherwise the jpurney was silent, Harry tried to ask what happened once and was told, in no uncertain terms, to fuck right off. It was impressive Tom hadn’t drawn blood, given the fact he was chewing on his bottom lip so hard. Before Harry had stopped the car, Tom was already reaching for the doorhandle but his brother stopped him. 

“Tom look, her car.” Sure enough in the parking lot to your apartment building, there was your car - safetly pulled up. So, at least you were alive. 

“I still need to-“

“You sure thats a good idea bro? If she left that upset then maybe-“

“Thanks for the lift.” Not giving Harry two seconds, Tom was already out the car, jogging toward the lobby. All his brother could do was sigh, feeling the need to text you, as a warning. 

‘toms on his way up. im sorry x’

Even if Tom thought you were completely maniac when you left - he underestimated your sensibility. Of course you hadnt driven home - instead phoning your bestmate Y/bf/n. Like a night in shining armour, without asking any questions she’d ubered to Toms adress and then driven your car home with you. 

Also being your best mate, she knew not to press. She knew you needed your space (ahem Tom take a hint) so although she was still in your flat - she left you to it in the bedroom. 

So when Tom, almost panting, knocked down your door to nearly break the wood - it was Y/bf/n who answered it. Her hand immediately flying to Tom’s chest, pushing him out the doorway, as she also stepped out. That way she could give him a piece of her mind without you hearing it. 

“You got some fucking nerve showin-“

“Is she okay?” He butted in, eyes frantically searching Y/bf/n’s. 

“How do you think she fucking is?”

“I thought she’d have crashed.”

“I drove because you’re right she is in no fucking state.” He gulped at that, this distant hope of you not being as bad as he thought crushed. Y/bf/n’s glare didn’t help Tom compose himself at all.

“I er, Y/bf/n I don’t know what to do.” She just sighed, exasperated at this boys stupidity. 

“Well what pissed her off?”

“I asked her why she doesn’t wont to move in with me.” Y/bf/n  quirked her head to the side, eyebrows furrowed at that. Because she knew that Tom knew more about your childhood than she did. You trusted your bestmate implicity, yet it was a past you didnt like to think back to. She knew you’d told Tom everything, and when she found that out she also knew he was your person. Shame your person was so very ignorant.

“But you know?” 

“I don’t know! I don’t know if its something to do with how messy I am, the way I sleep or-“

“For fuck sake Tom.” She didnt even exclaim, just pure exasperation coating her words. “Could you just - for a second- get your head out your own arse? It’s not about you.”

“But it’s about living with me?” Y/n pressed her thumb and index finger into her brows - actually wincing at Tom.

“It’s not about living with you… It’s living with anyone. It’s not having her safe space.” 

“But it would be saf-“

Rolling her eyes, Y/bf/n just gave up, she couldn’t be bothered to deal with him. For some unknown reason you had put up with this actual clot head for three years, and she knew he was supposed to be next to you forever. So fuck it, she just gestured for him to enter the flat with a defeated nod. 

Having had this curve ball thrown at him, Tom actually took measured and slow steps through your apartment. He knew the place like the back of his hand, having spent a fair amount of time here with you before. He remembered back 2 years ago, when he had helped you move in, after your first major release premiered. That first night, with nothing but a mattress on the floor - Tom had assumed you were planning to go back to his for the night. But no, instead you’’d got pizza delivered, and pulled out the essentials - a string of fairy lights and laptop for netflix. 

You’d spent the night with him in the otherwise empty flat, lit by the warm glowing lights, watching netflix on the floor. It had been magical. 

Tom just craved that experience again, but this time in your own shared place.  Now though, he was racking his (small) brain to decipher Y/bf/n meaning. And he’d realised that maybe he really hadn’t been listening to you all along. So, almost hesitantly, Tom stopped at your door, steeling his nerve. And then, gingerly, he knocked softly - ear pressed against the door. 

As expected, you ignored the sound on the door, figuring it Y/bf/n. That was until a voice echoed through the wood.

“Y/n, it’s- it’s me.” All the movement in your body, including the air in your lungs froze. He wasn’t supposed to be here. You had nowhere to run now. “I um…. I was worried. I shouldn’t of let you leave like that.” 

Again you didn’t respond. Just clawing your knees tighter to your chest as you cowered in the centre of your bed, sat up agaisnt the pillows. 

“I think I might’ve been ignoring you all this time. But I want to now… I’m ready to… I’m sorry I wasn’t before.” You heard a little thud, somehow knowing that was his forehead coming to rest on the otherside of the door. Silently, you used the cuff of the hoodie you were still wearing to wipe your face - hoping to remove the worst of your tears. Yes, your eyes were undoubtedly puffy and bloodshoot, but there was little that could be done about them. 

“I’d love to say I figured it out for myself but I have to admit Y/f/n might’ve helped…. she called me an idiot about twenty times too - which is fair.” Wetly you chuckled the slightest bit at that, still looking toward the closed door expectantly. “I’ve been taking all of this personally… as an insult I guess. And-and I dont think… well I’ve come to realise I’m being really immature by having that outlook. I…. I just- please can I come in?” 

It was infuriating because you were oh so mad at him. You were infuriated by everything and you were so incredibly hurt above all else. 

And that was your conundrum. Throughout your relationship, whenever you felt this betrayed or upset or hopeless - you’d crawl into his arms. Except this time, he was the cause of all that pain. So as much as instincts made you want to fling the door open and bury your head in his chest, you fought it with every bit of strength you had. 

“I can’t… I can’t see you right now.” Voice cracking, the illusion of authority you tried to convey simply was not there. 

There was an uncomfortable moment of silence, before he replied in the most heart-shatteringly defeated tone.

“Okay just… just know I’m going to be right here waiting.” And you knew he would. Just from the way he sounded, it was as though the adrenaline was dissapating for exhaustion. You didn’t have the energy to fight, nor did Tom have the energy to beg. Until you both had recovered somewhat, you knew he would be waiting. So you called out an ‘ I know’ at the still shut door, before wiggling back down on the bed- more than ready to be numbed by sleep. 

“And Y/n?…. I really really love you.” 

Suffice to say you couldn’t bring yourself to respond to his broken tone. No, all it did was bring on a fresh stream of tears. You hated that you loved him so undeniably. And even, you hated the fact that he loved you so much. Because it only made arguing that much harder. 

////////////

You woke up some hours later, having managed to cry yourself to sleep - which must be a new all time low. It was still dark, in fact it looked like the early hours of the morning. Your head was pounding, no doubt stress induced, and you pressed a fist to your eye socket in an attempt to alleviate the pressure. When that failed, you turned to dragging yourself out of bed - in search of a glass of water. 

Something about the fight made it feel as though you were physically ill. To keep the shivers at bay, you added some old joggers of Toms to the outfit you already had on - the jumper harry had given you yesterday. It was a bit shameful, deriving comfort from your ex-boyfriends clothes but… it was what you needed. 

Also was he your ex? Had you broken up? Were you on a break, in famous ross and rachel talk? It certainly didnt feel like you were ‘together’…. but the label was too much to think about this early in the morning. 

With a sigh you trailed across your bedroom, opening the door you’d been talking to hours earlier. Darkness swamped the hallway, and you had to blink your eyes a couple times in order to see through the blackness. 

You wouldn’t have noticed, with a bleary gaze and hazy eyes - if it weren’t for the noise on the floor just by the side of the doorway. Jumping in shock, you stared eyes widened at the floor.

“Oh sorry if I scared you I jus-“

“What the hell are you doing here?” Because why. Why was Tom still in your flat? Why was he sat with his back against the bedroom door staring blankly into the dark opposite? 

“I um…” He almost chuckled to himself, making you quirk your eyebrows together. “I said I’d wait here till you’re ready.” 

“But I-I didn’t think you meant literally…. what time is it anyway?” Everything about this was unbelievably bizarre. Still on the floor, Tom checked his watch and declared 3:45, before hopping to his feet. 

Now by no means were you on your high horse of looking good - no mirror was neccessary to know you looked like shit. But he didn’t look so great either. His hair was greasy, probably from running his hands through it too much. His eyes were puffy with lack of sleep, with dark bags hanging below them. He looked exactly how you felt. 

“If you want me to leave then-“ You cut him off, already starting to walk past him as your tried to get around the boys literal idocy. 

“I’m going to get a glass of water.” 

And like a lost little puppy, Tom just trailed behind you to the kitchen. 

While you were thinking. Who the hell deciedes its a good idea to camp outside someone elses room? Afterall, it is quater to 4 in the morning. If you had been more with it and noticed the weird presence , you might’ve thought he were a robber and put your self defence classes into effect. He was, in short, insane. 

In silence you grabbed a glass and filled it with water, before leaning on the island couter top - facing Tom. 

“So you just got real comfy in the hallway or?” 

“Well I was gonna go wait in my car or-or somewhere a bit less creepy but I wanted to make sure you were okay… and-and well I could hear you crying and I didn’t want to leave when that was happening so I was just gonna stay till you calmed down.”

“Mhmm?”

“But then I guess you fell asleep because - no offence or anything- but you were snoring a bit.”

“I had just cried myself to sleep.” He pouted at you admission and nodded slightly.

“Yeh no I… sorry but yeh i just found it quite reassuring  hearing that you were peaceful and calm.”

“I was asleep.” Again, you deadpanned the response and again - Tom’s reaction was as though you had shot him or something. 

“Sorry it was weird and if you want me to leave you alone i’ll just….”

Again you didn’t answer his question of whether or not you wanted him gone because …. well honestly you didn’t know. So instead, you wordlessly leaned off the counter and walked to the sofa - collapsing heavily on it. Expectedly then, Tom followed, standing like a lemon at the foot of the sofa - clearly unsure on what to do. 

“You’re not gonna stop bugging me till we have this talk, so you may as well sit.” And he did, jerkily and hurriedly - so that it looked so very awkward indeed. It took a moment of staring him down expectantly before Tom launched into a little speech. After all, it still wasn’t you that needed to apologise. 

“Look love your er… your hallway was the perfect place to think. Think about everything thats been going wrong with us and-and especially Y/b/f/n’s ‘encouraging’ words.” He said that last part sarcastically and you couldn’t help but snigger just a little. Because if you knew your bestfriend you knew she would’ve given Tom hell for hurting you. “ Look, the reason I’ve been so desperate to take us to the next step is because I’m insecure. Insecure that I should’ve ‘settled down’ by now according to my dad. And-and well I’ve always been worried with the press and the paps that if things got too difficult we’d have to split. So I thought I’d taken it at your pace enough and I just got pissy.” 

That you had to agree with, he definitely had been acting like a 5 year old.

“I just always thought that you didn’t want to move in with me right? And looking back thats so incredibly fucking dim because you’d already told me why…. if I’m right that is. I know you told me about your mum leaving and then the situation with your dad… but I’d never realised how much it affected you now. I’ve always had such a supportive family so when you told me all that I was sympathetic but…. but I was also naive. If it still affects you then thats so normal and I should’ve noticed. So I’m so so sorry.” 

In response, you released the big breath you hadn’t realised you were holding. It really sounded like some divine intervention had got involved and slapped sense into him. Refreshing would be an understatement.

Except was it enough?

“Thankyou… I um, I appreciate that but…. but my parents.” You chewed you lip trying to conjure up the way to say this. “I-I thought you knew about what happened affects me, cos it does- everyday.”

“I didn-“

“No please Tom… this is my turn.” Shutting down his attempt to butt in, you picked your nails nervously - not expecting to be this confrontational. “You are the only person I’ve told everything to… and and I thought you had got it you know? I thought you got me… thats why I’m finding this so hard you know?”

Tom sighed, shifting uncomfortably on the opposite side of the sofa. All he wanted to do was give you a hug and try and ease your pain - except when he was the cause of it, that wasn’t going to work. 

“I honestly just don’t have an excuse - I just couldn’t even imagine…. and-and, well if i’m honest-“ He met your eyes, as if looking for consent - you nodded, even if a little scared of what he would say next. “ It was clear that you didn’t like to talk about it and so…well i never asked you more questions or at least, enough to understand properly right?” 

“So it’s my fault?” You really weren’t trying to jump to any conclusions, except he was making it very difficult to sound not stupid.

“ No! Nono not at all… but I was tiptoeing around because I didn’t want to upset you, which i guess made me only more thick and oblivious than normal.” Lightly laughing at the end, Tom then leant forward even more. “But I’m not making excuses I’m just here to apologise a hundred times over. I love you so much and I want to give you all the time in the world.” 

“Where do we go from here though?”

“We go…” He exhaled, shifting so his whole body was facing you, leaning forward and looking deeply in his eyes “…absolutely no where. We stay here or you here and me at mine. We watch all the series we’ve said we’ll get round to and never have. We order food every night unless you want to try that new recipe book you got. We eat ice cream and I beat you at chess. We do absolutely nothing and I do everything I can to try and help you forgive me.”

Who knows how long you sat there, immobile, locked in this fierce and intense eye contact with Tom as he waited - and silently pleaded for you to forgive him. 

“I’m still pissed. You acted like a toddler instead of just talking to me and then you ignored my issues. I’m not gonna forgive you like that.” Nodding, Tom still looked slightly disappointed at your harshness, slightly leaning away. 

“But I could really do with a hug right now. ” 

When I say the sappy grin that grew on his face was possibly the purest thing ever, I do indeed mean it. You literally watched as he got his sparkle back, as his eyes lit up and his whole body grew a few inches from its slightly slouched position. 

And then you held each other closer than ever before. Tom squeezing you tightly and pressing his face into your collarbone quite forcefully. And you… you did the same. 

Like it or not, you were it for him and vice versa. Having taken years for you to have your first argument, it probably wasn’t surprising it were so intense. 

Perhaps he wasn’t completely to blame too. Perhaps sometimes you have to realise he cant read your thoughts. Maybe sometimes you need to put in the effort to explain. 

You had to forgive him, even if it would take longer to forget… you’d get there. 

Because thats what this whole thing is, giving and taking and forcing each other to grow and better yourselves. Neither of you were perfect and nor would you ever be. But you’d get better for each other, with each other. 

//

probably my last tom holland thing, hyperfixation has switched well and truly to f1 - if there are any of u that's be interested I've still kept writing just switched my obsession lol. sending all my love, t <3

tagging + people who asked to be(none of my taglist works cos its all so old so sorry!) : @sycamoregirl444 @laehlaluvs @letsgotothemoonlight @runawayolives @wildxwidow @boiolay @tomhollandlol @hoony-parker @hiraethenthusiast @nocturnalms @harryhollandsgirlfriend @words-to-accomplish-something @allywthsr @alexander-hamilhoe @la-tua-vera-natura @lnmp89 @ynalouis @lukesrosetattoo @venomsvl @prancerrparkerr @hollandsmushroom @farfromharry @hollandlover19 @dreamsarecloserwithyou @annathesillyfriend @ladykxxx08 @lilacsandwhiske @crossyourpeter

[hollandsmushroom]

Hi Mae, I don't know if you accept request...🥺👉🏻👈🏻 but I've this concept in my head since days... I'm on the bed and Peter has his face on my torso, hugging my waist, while I comb his hair with my hands. After a little bit we change position (now I'm lying on Petey), and it's so comforting and super fluffy...

Ya Know? || P.P.

word count: 387

warnings: insurmountable fluff

a/n: sorry if this is complete and total shit, pain killers make everything loopy

“Your stomach is making weird noises” Peter grumbled into your belly, looking up at you from his place cuddled into your midsection.

“Yeah, well that's kinda what stomachs do” you chuckled, looking down at him as you ran your hands through his soft brown curls. His arms were tight around your waist, hugging you close to him, his fingers scratching softly at your back, soothing any residual tension that the day had left intertwined in the gentle sinew of your body. The air after your quip was silent, mute from any noise aside for your gentle breathing and his, it was soft and quiet and lit up by the New York skyline that shone through your uncovered window. It was an idealistic moment from a romance novel.

“I love you, ya know” Peter mumbled after a while, his voice thick with sleep as he shifted, looking up at you and causing your hand that was still inweaved in his hair to fall to the back of his neck.

“Funnily enough I did know that, Peter Parker” you poke back at him verbally, tightening your fingers in his hair as you look into the dark brown of his eyes, losing yourself in the amber rings. “And I love you too” you mumbled, still staring deeply at him, a gaze that he matched with the same depth and longing.

“Good, it would be awkward if you didn’t” you giggled at his words and his sudden movements, hands pulling from underneath your back and switching places, he was beneath you know and you were laying on him, a position that the both of you often favored for sleeping.

“It really would be awkward” your eyelids fluttered slightly as he pulled you up, your cheek to his bare chest and his arms still wrapped securely around your body.

Peter didn’t respond, he didn’t need to, he had said everything he needed to for the rest of the day when he told you he loved you, now all that was left was to drift off to sleep whilst holding the love of his life.

“Goodnight Petey” you mumbled, placing a featherlike kiss to his bare chest and nuzzling up against him. Peter still didn’t respond, simply he placed a soft kiss to your forehead and faded off, content and in love.

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[wizkiddx]

owwww this has put me right in my single feels

[wizkiddx]

hiii, i hope your having a AMAZING day i love your writing!! if possible could you do one based on the song 'if the world was ending' by julia michaels. it makes me cry every time

hey!! thanku so much and it is a beautiful song - hope this is something like what u were looking for :)

summary: reader has bad news and gets a visit from one of the last people they'd expect

warning: loss of grandparent, grief

song: if the world was ending, Julia Michaels and JP Saxe

///////////////////////////////////

“I was gonna phone dad in the break if you fancy-“

“No abso-fucking-lutely not. Have you not seen the messages about his laptop breaking? I’m not listening to him rant about that for hours and hours on end.”

“You make him sound unbearable!”

“Tom, your the eldest child. You should’ve learnt this by now.”

“He’s just passiona-“

“He loves a moan! Just for the love of god don’t tell him I’m here and do be prepared for me to say I told you so.” The younger brother gleamed as he opened the door to his brothers (and therefore his too) trailer.

Toms newest project had been filming in Atlanta on the big Sony sets for nearly 2 months, which meant they hadn’t seen the family in that long either. True to his word though, without fail, he would always find time to call home. Something which especially recently, had been the most necessary - to keep him sane. It hadn’t been the easiest, so Tom had fallen on his most reliable support much more often.

“When did you become a moody 16 year old again?” Tom muttered, flopping on the sofa as he watched Harry sit on the beanbag across from him. It was not a surprise Harry didn’t grace his shit comeback with a response, instead just sighing - already preoccupied on his phone.

Barely 30 seconds later and Tom had to admit to himself that his younger brother was, once again, right. Dom was droning on and on as if his laptop trouble was the only issue in the world and Tom had barely got a chance to say hello. Already tuned out, his attention was easily sidetracked from the conversation to Harry- who’s phone started ringing angrily.

He took notice of how Harry’s eyebrows furrowed looking at the caller ID, clearly this was much more interesting than whatever his dad was saying.

“Hello?… umm I don’t think so, cos of what happened… Anyas number? I do have it, I don’t know that she’ll-… is everything ok?”

Tom had gone from intruiged to downright worried. Chewing on his bottom lip he sat forward, glaring at Harry intensely to try and get the insider info.

He’d already pieced together it was something to do with Y/n. Anya is her best friend, her ride or die, the person who knew her inside out. And ‘what happened’ clearly referred to what had happened between Tom and Y/n. As in the end of Tom and Y/n.

And Harry seemed worried. Which meant Tom was ten times more worried. It was Y/n after all.

Things between the two hadn’t really stopped- that was Tom’s issue these past months. It’s all good and well saying it was the end, but you just can’t stop feelings like that. Not when you’re two years deep and helplessly in love like Tom was.

And Y/n was the same too.

The breakup wasn’t for lack of emotion or love for the other. It was for the long distance, for the public pressure, for all the external factors that seemed like the end of the world.

Both of them had learnt the hard way that maybe they weren’t. That maybe they’d made a mistake.

“…oh shit, is-is she okay?… well yeh no of course… if there’s anything we can do… well yeh, I get that… yeh I’ll phone Anya but if Y/n is here in Atlanta too there’s not a lot she’ll be-… okay yeh I’ll send her number over, okay bye.”

Harry had also sat up rigid during the conversation, resumed his nervous tick of scratching at his cuticles. It was enough for Tom to interrupt his dad, making some poor excuse of being called back to set.

“So.” Harry already knew his brother would be demanding an explanation; also knowing his plans for having a relatively lazy, stress-free day had been ruined. In response Tom just made some weird grunt, as he shifted uncomfortably - making Harry carry on. “Um it’s Y/n’s grandma. She’s -well shes not okay. That was Alan because even he cant calm her down and he’s wanting Anya’s-“

“She’s here too?” As Alan, Y/n’s manager of 9 years (her whole career), had told Harry - they too were in Atlanta for Y/n’s most recent filming project. “I’m going.” Was all that Tom answered to Harry’s nod. His younger brother watched as Tom leapt up and hurriedly stuffed his stuff up into a bag and slug it over his shoulder.

“You are- I thought you werent speaking?”

“Her grandma meant the world to Y/n. She needs someone there with her.”

“Yeh but she’s got Alan and-“

“I’m going Baz.” Tom spoke shortly, thinking he had eneded the conversation as his hand hovered over the door handle to his trailer.

“Tom! Just, she might not want you. You might make everything worse.” Only with that did the brunette freeze whilst making his way down the trailer steps, before slowly looking back in toward Harry.

“I know, I just - I have to try.” His jaw was clenched and gaze was steely - and only Harry, knowing his brother so well, could notice the way his brown eyes gleamed a little more thna normla.

////////////////////////

It had taken a few cashing-in of favours for Tom to work out exactly where Y/n was staying, after all she always valued her privacy. But all it took was one AD who took pity on his desperately heartbroken tone - and barely 20 minutes later he was getting out the car in a secluded and hedge-lined neighbourhood. With a little wave of thanks to the driver, Tom pulle dhis hood up and made his way up to the porch.

Because was this the wrong thing to do? Was he doing this to look out for Y/n? Or was it more a selfish action? Was Tom doing this for his own good, or for Y/n’s?

He felt gulity. Loosing a grandparent is an awful thing to happen to anyone, and Y/n’s nan had been the most pure old lady he’d met. But, Tom would be lying if he wasn’t the tiniest bit excited.

Excited because he missed her. Oh so much. More than anything.

And if this was a reason for him to see ehr again, to speak, to comfort her - then he was thankful for it. Which sounds god awful.

So with a shake of his head to try and sort himself out, Tom then raised a fist to knock twice - not too hard, but not too soft either. As he had expected, there was no response, he could more than imagine Y/n trying to block out the rest of the world in her be - in an attempt to process what she was dealing with. He knocked again, this time harder and more forceful - even if she ddidnt come to the door at least he’d get her attention.

After still no response, he gave a cautionary look back around, to make sure no one was watching him and worried he were trying to break in. Then Tom knelt down, so he were at eye level with the letterbox.

“Y/n?…. Y/n?….It’s Tom.” Still he heard not a peep from inside the house. “Look…. if you want me to go I’ll go…. just… just I’m worried about you, a-and I wanted to pay may respects for-“

His speech was immediately interrupted by the door being yanked open, the shock almost making Tom fall forward and across the threshold. Muttering a shit as he regained his balance, Tom slowly scanned upwards. He saw the ridiculous fluffy slippers Y/n claimed she couldn’t go a day without; dark heather grey sweatpants that he ddidn’t recognise ; a stained, stretched out light blue tshirt - that Tom knew to be her Dads. Most of all though, he saw the way her eyes were dull and almost glazed over, looking tired and distant. He saw her hurt, her pain and her grief.

“Tom?”

“Y/n! I-I, hey.” Scrambling to his feet, he stuttered over all his words, instantly any hope of a cool facade disappearing. In response he got nothing, not even a hint from her facial expression of whether she was about to scream, slam the door or breakdown. “I heard about Fran and I just, just wanted to see you and check you were okay. It er- it sounds pretty selfish now but…”

“I feel like the world is ending.”

Her words were emotionless, blunt and cold, and yet the meaning were as though she was pouring her heart out to her ex-boyfriend opposite. TOm found it almost scary, without a clue what to do. So he didn’t over think, he just went.

“Can I come in?”

It was peculiar, given how -well- peculiar the situation was, how comfortable the silence was. Tom had come in, toed off his shoes and had followed Y/n as she walked upstairs to her room. And probably, having not spoken to Tom in months, the reunion of letting him back in her bedroom was a bit too exposing. Except that didn’t matter. Not to Y/n. Because as she said, her world was ending.

She almost jumped on the bed, pulling the covers seurely back over her, to a position it appeared she’d been in for most of the day.

“You know I haven’t cried yet.” She motioned for Tom to sit, which eh jiltedly did - the situation hitting him all at once all too fast. “Since the call I cant. I want to but it just… sorry this is-this is stupid.” Y/n buried her face in her hands, trying tos hield herself.

But then Tom’s natural reactions took over. He was immediately next to her on the bed, arms pulling her tightly to his chest - whispering soft reassurances to her.

“Why are you here?”

“Because… becaujse I care about you and… and this is a pretty good excuse to see you too.”

“You’re seriously thinking about yourself when my nans just died?” Like a deer caught in headlights Toms pupils widened almost comically, as Y/n leant away from his chest for a second.

It did only last a second though, before she choked into a fit of giggles, which in turn set Tom off - even if he didn’t really know why they were laughing. He just really liked the sound of her laugh. After a few moments she caught her breath back, but to Toms relief still looked entertained rather than angry. “You’re a fucking idiot you know?” She laughed, still wrapped in Tom’s arms as she looked deep into his brown eyes.

“I have been told that once or twice.” He spoke softly, before bringing his hand up to delicately cup her cheek- his stubby thumb brushing something wet on her cheek - almost making Y/n jump. “Think you’ve managed a tear love.”

Y/n hadn’t noticed, but in the fit of giggles, a tear has escaped. A tear that she’d been unconsciously holding in and unable to unlock. And all it took was for Tom arriving for the flood gates to open.

Because once one had came, and after it was pointed out, there was no stopping Y/n. Right there in her ex’s arms - she broke.

Although Tom knew this was exactly what she needed, it didn’t make it any easier to see her this upset. Her face was buried in his chest as he worked himself under the covers too, rocking the both of them side to side. The whole time, for what must’ve been atleast an hour he held firm, whispering little “You’ll be okay”’s every so often. He didn’t rush her, as she slowly seemed to calm down, still nestled into his side but with less and less of a shaking frame.

Eventually though, she let out a long sigh, as if signalling Tom she were back now - whatever that meant.

“ ‘m glad you’re here.” Her voice were slightly hoarse, but he still heard loud and clear, and in response he lightly placed his hands under her chin - forcing her to meet his eyes.

“When you need me, I always will be here.” A small smile played on his lips, making Y/n feel just a little tingly and lighter inside.

“Would you mind staying tonight? I just don’t-“

“Course… I’ll stay as long as you want me too.”

“Seriously?”

“Y/n… like it or not, right or wrong, I’m still a fool in love with you.”

“Well… I might like it if you stay too.

~~feedback is appreciated! also I have the last part to 3 hearts broken, but im not so happy with it - do people really want it? bcos tbh is deff a let down aha ~~~

tom taglist: @lovehollandy12 @hollandlover19 @thefernandasantana @hunnybunimdun @hallecarey1@cedricdiggorysimpp @msmimimerton @hollandfanficlove @pandaxnienke @crossyourpeter @thegirlwiththeimpala @tom-softie @sunwardsss @spiitfiiires @radcloudenthusiast @ladykxxx08 @prancerrparkerr @wildxwidow @Elishi03 @arctic-monkcys @ownbauer13 @tomhollandlol @marvelsbitch8 @peterr-parkourr @lizzyclifford13-blog @user1683 @Elishi03 @lmaotshollandd @hollandxstoryimagines @dancingoceans-blog @happyt0exist @tomhollandlol @judeduarteripoff ​@kayla-stinson @chubby-cheek-calum

[dreamsarecloserwithyou]

Awww how quickly they fit back together. Losing a loved on is really hard. This was a lovely read. Thank you for sharing!

Also. Yes I want to read the last part of 3 broken hearts. I wanna know how you end it! XD if I recall their relationship was a MESS! I wanna read it ^-^

[wizkiddx]

ahhh your too sweetie, thankyou so much <3

and yeh I think I will post it just for closure ahaha I apologise in advance ;)

[wizkiddx]

hiii, i hope your having a AMAZING day i love your writing!! if possible could you do one based on the song 'if the world was ending' by julia michaels. it makes me cry every time

hey!! thanku so much and it is a beautiful song - hope this is something like what u were looking for :)

summary: reader has bad news and gets a visit from one of the last people they'd expect

warning: loss of grandparent, grief

song: if the world was ending, Julia Michaels and JP Saxe

///////////////////////////////////

“I was gonna phone dad in the break if you fancy-“

“No abso-fucking-lutely not. Have you not seen the messages about his laptop breaking? I’m not listening to him rant about that for hours and hours on end.”

“You make him sound unbearable!”

“Tom, your the eldest child. You should’ve learnt this by now.”

“He’s just passiona-“

“He loves a moan! Just for the love of god don’t tell him I’m here and do be prepared for me to say I told you so.” The younger brother gleamed as he opened the door to his brothers (and therefore his too) trailer.

Toms newest project had been filming in Atlanta on the big Sony sets for nearly 2 months, which meant they hadn’t seen the family in that long either. True to his word though, without fail, he would always find time to call home. Something which especially recently, had been the most necessary - to keep him sane. It hadn’t been the easiest, so Tom had fallen on his most reliable support much more often.

“When did you become a moody 16 year old again?” Tom muttered, flopping on the sofa as he watched Harry sit on the beanbag across from him. It was not a surprise Harry didn’t grace his shit comeback with a response, instead just sighing - already preoccupied on his phone.

Barely 30 seconds later and Tom had to admit to himself that his younger brother was, once again, right. Dom was droning on and on as if his laptop trouble was the only issue in the world and Tom had barely got a chance to say hello. Already tuned out, his attention was easily sidetracked from the conversation to Harry- who’s phone started ringing angrily.

He took notice of how Harry’s eyebrows furrowed looking at the caller ID, clearly this was much more interesting than whatever his dad was saying.

“Hello?… umm I don’t think so, cos of what happened… Anyas number? I do have it, I don’t know that she’ll-… is everything ok?”

Tom had gone from intruiged to downright worried. Chewing on his bottom lip he sat forward, glaring at Harry intensely to try and get the insider info.

He’d already pieced together it was something to do with Y/n. Anya is her best friend, her ride or die, the person who knew her inside out. And ‘what happened’ clearly referred to what had happened between Tom and Y/n. As in the end of Tom and Y/n.

And Harry seemed worried. Which meant Tom was ten times more worried. It was Y/n after all.

Things between the two hadn’t really stopped- that was Tom’s issue these past months. It’s all good and well saying it was the end, but you just can’t stop feelings like that. Not when you’re two years deep and helplessly in love like Tom was.

And Y/n was the same too.

The breakup wasn’t for lack of emotion or love for the other. It was for the long distance, for the public pressure, for all the external factors that seemed like the end of the world.

Both of them had learnt the hard way that maybe they weren’t. That maybe they’d made a mistake.

“…oh shit, is-is she okay?… well yeh no of course… if there’s anything we can do… well yeh, I get that… yeh I’ll phone Anya but if Y/n is here in Atlanta too there’s not a lot she’ll be-… okay yeh I’ll send her number over, okay bye.”

Harry had also sat up rigid during the conversation, resumed his nervous tick of scratching at his cuticles. It was enough for Tom to interrupt his dad, making some poor excuse of being called back to set.

“So.” Harry already knew his brother would be demanding an explanation; also knowing his plans for having a relatively lazy, stress-free day had been ruined. In response Tom just made some weird grunt, as he shifted uncomfortably - making Harry carry on. “Um it’s Y/n’s grandma. She’s -well shes not okay. That was Alan because even he cant calm her down and he’s wanting Anya’s-“

“She’s here too?” As Alan, Y/n’s manager of 9 years (her whole career), had told Harry - they too were in Atlanta for Y/n’s most recent filming project. “I’m going.” Was all that Tom answered to Harry’s nod. His younger brother watched as Tom leapt up and hurriedly stuffed his stuff up into a bag and slug it over his shoulder.

“You are- I thought you werent speaking?”

“Her grandma meant the world to Y/n. She needs someone there with her.”

“Yeh but she’s got Alan and-“

“I’m going Baz.” Tom spoke shortly, thinking he had eneded the conversation as his hand hovered over the door handle to his trailer.

“Tom! Just, she might not want you. You might make everything worse.” Only with that did the brunette freeze whilst making his way down the trailer steps, before slowly looking back in toward Harry.

“I know, I just - I have to try.” His jaw was clenched and gaze was steely - and only Harry, knowing his brother so well, could notice the way his brown eyes gleamed a little more thna normla.

////////////////////////

It had taken a few cashing-in of favours for Tom to work out exactly where Y/n was staying, after all she always valued her privacy. But all it took was one AD who took pity on his desperately heartbroken tone - and barely 20 minutes later he was getting out the car in a secluded and hedge-lined neighbourhood. With a little wave of thanks to the driver, Tom pulle dhis hood up and made his way up to the porch.

Because was this the wrong thing to do? Was he doing this to look out for Y/n? Or was it more a selfish action? Was Tom doing this for his own good, or for Y/n’s?

He felt gulity. Loosing a grandparent is an awful thing to happen to anyone, and Y/n’s nan had been the most pure old lady he’d met. But, Tom would be lying if he wasn’t the tiniest bit excited.

Excited because he missed her. Oh so much. More than anything.

And if this was a reason for him to see ehr again, to speak, to comfort her - then he was thankful for it. Which sounds god awful.

So with a shake of his head to try and sort himself out, Tom then raised a fist to knock twice - not too hard, but not too soft either. As he had expected, there was no response, he could more than imagine Y/n trying to block out the rest of the world in her be - in an attempt to process what she was dealing with. He knocked again, this time harder and more forceful - even if she ddidnt come to the door at least he’d get her attention.

After still no response, he gave a cautionary look back around, to make sure no one was watching him and worried he were trying to break in. Then Tom knelt down, so he were at eye level with the letterbox.

“Y/n?…. Y/n?….It’s Tom.” Still he heard not a peep from inside the house. “Look…. if you want me to go I’ll go…. just… just I’m worried about you, a-and I wanted to pay may respects for-“

His speech was immediately interrupted by the door being yanked open, the shock almost making Tom fall forward and across the threshold. Muttering a shit as he regained his balance, Tom slowly scanned upwards. He saw the ridiculous fluffy slippers Y/n claimed she couldn’t go a day without; dark heather grey sweatpants that he ddidn’t recognise ; a stained, stretched out light blue tshirt - that Tom knew to be her Dads. Most of all though, he saw the way her eyes were dull and almost glazed over, looking tired and distant. He saw her hurt, her pain and her grief.

“Tom?”

“Y/n! I-I, hey.” Scrambling to his feet, he stuttered over all his words, instantly any hope of a cool facade disappearing. In response he got nothing, not even a hint from her facial expression of whether she was about to scream, slam the door or breakdown. “I heard about Fran and I just, just wanted to see you and check you were okay. It er- it sounds pretty selfish now but…”

“I feel like the world is ending.”

Her words were emotionless, blunt and cold, and yet the meaning were as though she was pouring her heart out to her ex-boyfriend opposite. TOm found it almost scary, without a clue what to do. So he didn’t over think, he just went.

“Can I come in?”

It was peculiar, given how -well- peculiar the situation was, how comfortable the silence was. Tom had come in, toed off his shoes and had followed Y/n as she walked upstairs to her room. And probably, having not spoken to Tom in months, the reunion of letting him back in her bedroom was a bit too exposing. Except that didn’t matter. Not to Y/n. Because as she said, her world was ending.

She almost jumped on the bed, pulling the covers seurely back over her, to a position it appeared she’d been in for most of the day.

“You know I haven’t cried yet.” She motioned for Tom to sit, which eh jiltedly did - the situation hitting him all at once all too fast. “Since the call I cant. I want to but it just… sorry this is-this is stupid.” Y/n buried her face in her hands, trying tos hield herself.

But then Tom’s natural reactions took over. He was immediately next to her on the bed, arms pulling her tightly to his chest - whispering soft reassurances to her.

“Why are you here?”

“Because… becaujse I care about you and… and this is a pretty good excuse to see you too.”

“You’re seriously thinking about yourself when my nans just died?” Like a deer caught in headlights Toms pupils widened almost comically, as Y/n leant away from his chest for a second.

It did only last a second though, before she choked into a fit of giggles, which in turn set Tom off - even if he didn’t really know why they were laughing. He just really liked the sound of her laugh. After a few moments she caught her breath back, but to Toms relief still looked entertained rather than angry. “You’re a fucking idiot you know?” She laughed, still wrapped in Tom’s arms as she looked deep into his brown eyes.

“I have been told that once or twice.” He spoke softly, before bringing his hand up to delicately cup her cheek- his stubby thumb brushing something wet on her cheek - almost making Y/n jump. “Think you’ve managed a tear love.”

Y/n hadn’t noticed, but in the fit of giggles, a tear has escaped. A tear that she’d been unconsciously holding in and unable to unlock. And all it took was for Tom arriving for the flood gates to open.

Because once one had came, and after it was pointed out, there was no stopping Y/n. Right there in her ex’s arms - she broke.

Although Tom knew this was exactly what she needed, it didn’t make it any easier to see her this upset. Her face was buried in his chest as he worked himself under the covers too, rocking the both of them side to side. The whole time, for what must’ve been atleast an hour he held firm, whispering little “You’ll be okay”’s every so often. He didn’t rush her, as she slowly seemed to calm down, still nestled into his side but with less and less of a shaking frame.

Eventually though, she let out a long sigh, as if signalling Tom she were back now - whatever that meant.

“ ‘m glad you’re here.” Her voice were slightly hoarse, but he still heard loud and clear, and in response he lightly placed his hands under her chin - forcing her to meet his eyes.

“When you need me, I always will be here.” A small smile played on his lips, making Y/n feel just a little tingly and lighter inside.

“Would you mind staying tonight? I just don’t-“

“Course… I’ll stay as long as you want me too.”

“Seriously?”

“Y/n… like it or not, right or wrong, I’m still a fool in love with you.”

“Well… I might like it if you stay too.

~~feedback is appreciated! also I have the last part to 3 hearts broken, but im not so happy with it - do people really want it? bcos tbh is deff a let down aha ~~~

tom taglist: @lovehollandy12 @hollandlover19 @thefernandasantana @hunnybunimdun @hallecarey1@cedricdiggorysimpp @msmimimerton @hollandfanficlove @pandaxnienke @crossyourpeter @thegirlwiththeimpala @tom-softie @sunwardsss @spiitfiiires @radcloudenthusiast @ladykxxx08 @prancerrparkerr @wildxwidow @Elishi03 @arctic-monkcys @ownbauer13 @tomhollandlol @marvelsbitch8 @peterr-parkourr @lizzyclifford13-blog @user1683 @Elishi03 @lmaotshollandd @hollandxstoryimagines @dancingoceans-blog @happyt0exist @tomhollandlol @judeduarteripoff ​@kayla-stinson @chubby-cheek-calum

[arvinsescape]

Okay, this is adorable 🥺

[wizkiddx]

ahhhh your too kind thanku <3

[wizkiddx]

hiii, i hope your having a AMAZING day i love your writing!! if possible could you do one based on the song 'if the world was ending' by julia michaels. it makes me cry every time

hey!! thanku so much and it is a beautiful song - hope this is something like what u were looking for :)

summary: reader has bad news and gets a visit from one of the last people they'd expect

warning: loss of grandparent, grief

song: if the world was ending, Julia Michaels and JP Saxe

///////////////////////////////////

“I was gonna phone dad in the break if you fancy-“

“No abso-fucking-lutely not. Have you not seen the messages about his laptop breaking? I’m not listening to him rant about that for hours and hours on end.”

“You make him sound unbearable!”

“Tom, your the eldest child. You should’ve learnt this by now.”

“He’s just passiona-“

“He loves a moan! Just for the love of god don’t tell him I’m here and do be prepared for me to say I told you so.” The younger brother gleamed as he opened the door to his brothers (and therefore his too) trailer.

Toms newest project had been filming in Atlanta on the big Sony sets for nearly 2 months, which meant they hadn’t seen the family in that long either. True to his word though, without fail, he would always find time to call home. Something which especially recently, had been the most necessary - to keep him sane. It hadn’t been the easiest, so Tom had fallen on his most reliable support much more often.

“When did you become a moody 16 year old again?” Tom muttered, flopping on the sofa as he watched Harry sit on the beanbag across from him. It was not a surprise Harry didn’t grace his shit comeback with a response, instead just sighing - already preoccupied on his phone.

Barely 30 seconds later and Tom had to admit to himself that his younger brother was, once again, right. Dom was droning on and on as if his laptop trouble was the only issue in the world and Tom had barely got a chance to say hello. Already tuned out, his attention was easily sidetracked from the conversation to Harry- who’s phone started ringing angrily.

He took notice of how Harry’s eyebrows furrowed looking at the caller ID, clearly this was much more interesting than whatever his dad was saying.

“Hello?… umm I don’t think so, cos of what happened… Anyas number? I do have it, I don’t know that she’ll-… is everything ok?”

Tom had gone from intruiged to downright worried. Chewing on his bottom lip he sat forward, glaring at Harry intensely to try and get the insider info.

He’d already pieced together it was something to do with Y/n. Anya is her best friend, her ride or die, the person who knew her inside out. And ‘what happened’ clearly referred to what had happened between Tom and Y/n. As in the end of Tom and Y/n.

And Harry seemed worried. Which meant Tom was ten times more worried. It was Y/n after all.

Things between the two hadn’t really stopped- that was Tom’s issue these past months. It’s all good and well saying it was the end, but you just can’t stop feelings like that. Not when you’re two years deep and helplessly in love like Tom was.

And Y/n was the same too.

The breakup wasn’t for lack of emotion or love for the other. It was for the long distance, for the public pressure, for all the external factors that seemed like the end of the world.

Both of them had learnt the hard way that maybe they weren’t. That maybe they’d made a mistake.

“…oh shit, is-is she okay?… well yeh no of course… if there’s anything we can do… well yeh, I get that… yeh I’ll phone Anya but if Y/n is here in Atlanta too there’s not a lot she’ll be-… okay yeh I’ll send her number over, okay bye.”

Harry had also sat up rigid during the conversation, resumed his nervous tick of scratching at his cuticles. It was enough for Tom to interrupt his dad, making some poor excuse of being called back to set.

“So.” Harry already knew his brother would be demanding an explanation; also knowing his plans for having a relatively lazy, stress-free day had been ruined. In response Tom just made some weird grunt, as he shifted uncomfortably - making Harry carry on. “Um it’s Y/n’s grandma. She’s -well shes not okay. That was Alan because even he cant calm her down and he’s wanting Anya’s-“

“She’s here too?” As Alan, Y/n’s manager of 9 years (her whole career), had told Harry - they too were in Atlanta for Y/n’s most recent filming project. “I’m going.” Was all that Tom answered to Harry’s nod. His younger brother watched as Tom leapt up and hurriedly stuffed his stuff up into a bag and slug it over his shoulder.

“You are- I thought you werent speaking?”

“Her grandma meant the world to Y/n. She needs someone there with her.”

“Yeh but she’s got Alan and-“

“I’m going Baz.” Tom spoke shortly, thinking he had eneded the conversation as his hand hovered over the door handle to his trailer.

“Tom! Just, she might not want you. You might make everything worse.” Only with that did the brunette freeze whilst making his way down the trailer steps, before slowly looking back in toward Harry.

“I know, I just - I have to try.” His jaw was clenched and gaze was steely - and only Harry, knowing his brother so well, could notice the way his brown eyes gleamed a little more thna normla.

////////////////////////

It had taken a few cashing-in of favours for Tom to work out exactly where Y/n was staying, after all she always valued her privacy. But all it took was one AD who took pity on his desperately heartbroken tone - and barely 20 minutes later he was getting out the car in a secluded and hedge-lined neighbourhood. With a little wave of thanks to the driver, Tom pulle dhis hood up and made his way up to the porch.

Because was this the wrong thing to do? Was he doing this to look out for Y/n? Or was it more a selfish action? Was Tom doing this for his own good, or for Y/n’s?

He felt gulity. Loosing a grandparent is an awful thing to happen to anyone, and Y/n’s nan had been the most pure old lady he’d met. But, Tom would be lying if he wasn’t the tiniest bit excited.

Excited because he missed her. Oh so much. More than anything.

And if this was a reason for him to see ehr again, to speak, to comfort her - then he was thankful for it. Which sounds god awful.

So with a shake of his head to try and sort himself out, Tom then raised a fist to knock twice - not too hard, but not too soft either. As he had expected, there was no response, he could more than imagine Y/n trying to block out the rest of the world in her be - in an attempt to process what she was dealing with. He knocked again, this time harder and more forceful - even if she ddidnt come to the door at least he’d get her attention.

After still no response, he gave a cautionary look back around, to make sure no one was watching him and worried he were trying to break in. Then Tom knelt down, so he were at eye level with the letterbox.

“Y/n?…. Y/n?….It’s Tom.” Still he heard not a peep from inside the house. “Look…. if you want me to go I’ll go…. just… just I’m worried about you, a-and I wanted to pay may respects for-“

His speech was immediately interrupted by the door being yanked open, the shock almost making Tom fall forward and across the threshold. Muttering a shit as he regained his balance, Tom slowly scanned upwards. He saw the ridiculous fluffy slippers Y/n claimed she couldn’t go a day without; dark heather grey sweatpants that he ddidn’t recognise ; a stained, stretched out light blue tshirt - that Tom knew to be her Dads. Most of all though, he saw the way her eyes were dull and almost glazed over, looking tired and distant. He saw her hurt, her pain and her grief.

“Tom?”

“Y/n! I-I, hey.” Scrambling to his feet, he stuttered over all his words, instantly any hope of a cool facade disappearing. In response he got nothing, not even a hint from her facial expression of whether she was about to scream, slam the door or breakdown. “I heard about Fran and I just, just wanted to see you and check you were okay. It er- it sounds pretty selfish now but…”

“I feel like the world is ending.”

Her words were emotionless, blunt and cold, and yet the meaning were as though she was pouring her heart out to her ex-boyfriend opposite. TOm found it almost scary, without a clue what to do. So he didn’t over think, he just went.

“Can I come in?”

It was peculiar, given how -well- peculiar the situation was, how comfortable the silence was. Tom had come in, toed off his shoes and had followed Y/n as she walked upstairs to her room. And probably, having not spoken to Tom in months, the reunion of letting him back in her bedroom was a bit too exposing. Except that didn’t matter. Not to Y/n. Because as she said, her world was ending.

She almost jumped on the bed, pulling the covers seurely back over her, to a position it appeared she’d been in for most of the day.

“You know I haven’t cried yet.” She motioned for Tom to sit, which eh jiltedly did - the situation hitting him all at once all too fast. “Since the call I cant. I want to but it just… sorry this is-this is stupid.” Y/n buried her face in her hands, trying tos hield herself.

But then Tom’s natural reactions took over. He was immediately next to her on the bed, arms pulling her tightly to his chest - whispering soft reassurances to her.

“Why are you here?”

“Because… becaujse I care about you and… and this is a pretty good excuse to see you too.”

“You’re seriously thinking about yourself when my nans just died?” Like a deer caught in headlights Toms pupils widened almost comically, as Y/n leant away from his chest for a second.

It did only last a second though, before she choked into a fit of giggles, which in turn set Tom off - even if he didn’t really know why they were laughing. He just really liked the sound of her laugh. After a few moments she caught her breath back, but to Toms relief still looked entertained rather than angry. “You’re a fucking idiot you know?” She laughed, still wrapped in Tom’s arms as she looked deep into his brown eyes.

“I have been told that once or twice.” He spoke softly, before bringing his hand up to delicately cup her cheek- his stubby thumb brushing something wet on her cheek - almost making Y/n jump. “Think you’ve managed a tear love.”

Y/n hadn’t noticed, but in the fit of giggles, a tear has escaped. A tear that she’d been unconsciously holding in and unable to unlock. And all it took was for Tom arriving for the flood gates to open.

Because once one had came, and after it was pointed out, there was no stopping Y/n. Right there in her ex’s arms - she broke.

Although Tom knew this was exactly what she needed, it didn’t make it any easier to see her this upset. Her face was buried in his chest as he worked himself under the covers too, rocking the both of them side to side. The whole time, for what must’ve been atleast an hour he held firm, whispering little “You’ll be okay”’s every so often. He didn’t rush her, as she slowly seemed to calm down, still nestled into his side but with less and less of a shaking frame.

Eventually though, she let out a long sigh, as if signalling Tom she were back now - whatever that meant.

“ ‘m glad you’re here.” Her voice were slightly hoarse, but he still heard loud and clear, and in response he lightly placed his hands under her chin - forcing her to meet his eyes.

“When you need me, I always will be here.” A small smile played on his lips, making Y/n feel just a little tingly and lighter inside.

“Would you mind staying tonight? I just don’t-“

“Course… I’ll stay as long as you want me too.”

“Seriously?”

“Y/n… like it or not, right or wrong, I’m still a fool in love with you.”

“Well… I might like it if you stay too.

~~feedback is appreciated! also I have the last part to 3 hearts broken, but im not so happy with it - do people really want it? bcos tbh is deff a let down aha ~~~

tom taglist: @lovehollandy12 @hollandlover19 @thefernandasantana @hunnybunimdun @hallecarey1@cedricdiggorysimpp @msmimimerton @hollandfanficlove @pandaxnienke @crossyourpeter @thegirlwiththeimpala @tom-softie @sunwardsss @spiitfiiires @radcloudenthusiast @ladykxxx08 @prancerrparkerr @wildxwidow @Elishi03 @arctic-monkcys @ownbauer13 @tomhollandlol @marvelsbitch8 @peterr-parkourr @lizzyclifford13-blog @user1683 @Elishi03 @lmaotshollandd @hollandxstoryimagines @dancingoceans-blog @happyt0exist @tomhollandlol @judeduarteripoff ​@kayla-stinson @chubby-cheek-calum

[tomhollandfics-deactivated20250]

can you create a list of fights with tom? <3

Conflict - @dlwritings

First Fight - @calif0rnia-lovers

Hurricane - @naturallytom

Like To Be You - @sunshinehollandd

Give Me A Minute To Hold My Girl - @waitimcomingtoo

Worst Travel Day Ever - @trashinaglass

Against The World - @spideyyposts

Talking - @tom-softie

Torn Leaves, Broken Hearts - @t-lostinworlds

3 Hearts Broken - @wizkiddx

[wizkiddx]

gahhh this too?!? thankyou lovieeee

[tomhollandfics-deactivated20250]

Hii !! Can u find a fanfic/imagine/headcanon/oneshot/series/etc, about…..

Wedding/proposal/getting ready or preparation for the wedding that is TomHolland x reader pls🥺 thank youu💙

here you go! i'll probs end up doing a main fic list for these x

Proposals

Accidental Proposal - @duskholland

The Happiest - @liberty-barnes

Darling, Let's Dance - @marvelliz

It's Probably The Best Day Of Your Life - @sunrisespidey

Marry Me - @tomspeter

Tom Proposing To You - @multific

Wedding (& preparations)

Garter Traditions - @kelieah

Really A Holland Now - @unsaidholland

Back-Yard - @shytaylorauthor

Wedding Dress Shopping - @uglypastels

Vows - @greenorangevioletgrass

Dearly, Beloved - @trulytom

Wedding Jitters - @ola-elaina

Reasons Why I Hate The Spiderboy - @wizkiddx

[wizkiddx]

thankyou for including me!!! <3

[farfromharry]

Hey can I have 2 and 25 from the Halloween prompts with tom?

Summary: Tom’s a huge baby when it comes to horror, so there’s no way he’s going to like the idea of a holiday in a cabin in the woods

Tom holland x reader

w/c 481

Getting Tom to watch a scary movie with you had been a challenge. He was possibly the biggest baby you’d ever met so he’d have to prepare well in advance if you wanted him to sit down and cuddle with you for a little while even while the film just played in the background.

You had to promise to both protect him from the dangers and turn it off if it got too much for him, and then he was ready to go.

Not even halfway into the action did Tom find himself shuffling closer to your body in search of comfort, his face contorting into one of disgust at the scary things happening on screen.

“I promise, the monsters aren’t real,” you cooed. He nuzzled his head into your neck. The action would’ve been cute if he wasn’t doing it out of pure fear. Your fingers running through his mess of curls made him feel better, but the idea that something evil could be right around any corner of your home was too grave for him to be completely calm.

“C-Can we turn it off?” he stuttered. You nodded, letting the two of you be engulfed in darkness once the TV was switched off. You heard your boyfriend whimper, rolling your eyes as you tried to detach him from your body long enough to turn on a light. However he really didn’t want that, he was convinced the second your touch left him that the evil monsters would be able to get to him.

You were delved into a comfortable silence, your hands rubbing over the large expanse of his back. He was nearly asleep when you decided to speak up again, a slight smirk on your lips that he was unable to see.

“What about staying at a cabin for halloween? Somewhere in the woods where it’s just us,” you suggested. You weren’t actually serious, only teasing to see Tom’s reaction, but you were going to enjoy this nonetheless.

His eyes widened comically, his head whipping in your direction. His mouth opened slightly as if he was going to speak but quickly closed again when he realised he didn’t know what to say.

“Let me get this straight. You want to spend Halloween in a cabin in the woods?” he questioned rather frantically.

You nodded. “Yes.”

He sat up a little straighter, your arms slipping from where they’d been wrapped around him. “A cabin… in the woods… during halloween.”

“Correct.”

He groaned, eyebrows completely furrowed. “Do you want to die? Did you not watch any of the movie we just saw?”

“You’re so easy to wind up, Tommy.” You stood from your seat on the couch with a wide grin. He didn’t move, instead whining quietly that you’d left him. “Have fun finding your way back to bed without me. In the dark, where all the monsters are hiding.”

tom holland taglist → @lmaotshollandd​ @photoshopart15​ @hopelessly-harry @call-me-baby-gir1​ @icyhollands​ @sinisterspidey​ @siriuslyslyslytherin​ @musicalkeys-blog​ @itstaskeen​ @tpwk-grande​ @zspideyy​ @spideyssunshine​ @givebuckyhisplumsnow​ @lowkey-holland​ @hollandcrush​ @wizkiddx​ @sannie-san-shine @sonnydoesrandomshit @hopeless-romantic-baby​ @thehumanistsdiary @dummiesshort @itsbieberxholland @lillucyandthejets @piscesparker @bvttercupbby @spideyspeaches @l0velyevans​ @celestialholland @captainamirica @tomsirishgirlx @lou-la-lou @slutforsr @tayyx @annathesillyfriend @lovableparker @whoeveniskendall @hollandswife @sunwardsss @dhtomholland @messedupmyfuckinglife @scarletspideyy @multixfandomwriter @mrsholland96 @tomhollandismyhusband1996 @just-lost-inbetween-worlds @magicalxdaydream @hallecarey1 @aayaissaa @jacksnoodles @cedricdiggorysimpp @edmundspevensea @lovehollandy12 @peterbenjiparker @tomshufflepuff @the-girl-in-the-chair @prancerrparkerr @tom-softie @rqmanoff @mcushvft @nellabellaa @miraclesoflove @marvelobsessed10031917 @samaraaaaa @hogwartsmarvelmommy @elishi03

[wizkiddx]

a lil teaser

hello everyone im back(ish)!! things have been a bit chaotic but I have missed all the talent on here. also thankyou all so so much for 900!!! nearly fainted when I saw that ;) so have a little teaser of a one shot I got done x

...

“I was gonna phone dad in the break if you fancy-“

“No abso-fucking-lutely not. Have you not seen the messages about his laptop breaking? I’m not listening to him rant about that for hours and hours on end.”

“You make him sound unbearable!”

“Tom, your the eldest child. You should’ve learnt this by now.”

“He’s just passiona-“

“He loves a moan! Just for the love of god don’t tell him I’m here and do be prepared for me to say I told you so.” The younger brother gleamed as he opened the door to his brothers (and therefore his too) trailer.

Toms newest project had been filming in Atlanta on the big Sony sets for nearly 2 months, which meant they hadn’t seen the family in that long either. True to his word though, without fail, he would always find time to call home. Something which especially recently, had been the most necessary - to keep him sane. It hadn’t been the easiest, so Tom had fallen on his most reliable support much more often.

“When did you become a moody 16 year old again?” Tom muttered, flopping on the sofa as he watched Harry sit on the beanbag across from him. It was not a surprise Harry didn’t grace his shit comeback with a response, instead just sighing - already preoccupied on his phone.

Barely 30 seconds later and Tom had to admit to himself that his younger brother was, once again, right. Dom was droning on and on as if his laptop trouble was the only issue in the world and Tom had barely got a chance to say hello. Already tuned out, his attention was easily sidetracked from the conversation to Harry- who’s phone started ringing angrily.

He took notice of how Harry’s eyebrows furrowed looking at the caller ID, clearly this was much more interesting than whatever his dad was saying.

“Hello?… umm I don’t think so, cos of what happened… Anyas number? I do have it, I don’t know that she’ll-… is everything ok?”

Tom had gone from intruiged to downright worried. Chewing on his bottom lip he sat forward, glaring at Harry intensely to try and get the insider info.

He’d already pieced together it was something to do with Y/n. Anya is her best friend, her ride or die, the person who knew her inside out. And ‘what happened’ clearly referred to what had happened between Tom and Y/n. As in the end of Tom and Y/n.

And Harry seemed worried. Which meant Tom was ten times more worried. It was Y/n after all.

Things between the two hadn’t really stopped- that was Tom’s issue these past months. It’s all good and well saying it was the end, but you just can’t stop feelings like that. Not when you’re two years deep and helplessly in love like Tom was.

And Y/n was the same too.

The breakup wasn’t for lack of emotion or love for the other. It was for the long distance, for the public pressure, for all the external factors that seemed like the end of the world.

Both of them had learnt the hard way that maybe they weren’t. That maybe they’d made a mistake.

lemme know if you want to see the rest! will hopefully be at least a wee bit less angsty at the end ;)

[wizkiddx]

i for some reason forgot you wrote for harry. so now excuse me while i binge all your harry fics again ☺️

ahhh I am so sorry ive been away for so long but Ellie u are the dearest !!!! ily

[wizkiddx]

can u do a tom one where the reader faints and hits her head but is fine but then he is ridiculously overprotective when he finds out? love your writing 🤍

pretend im not here, u didn't see that im back but I just couldn't help myself. hiatus ending pending...

warnings: fainting / concussion / mention of blood and stitches and general hospital stuff but its all very mild and not serious

this was written in 2 hrs and NOT PROOFREAD ONCE so I am so sorry for the lack of English lol

////////////////////////////////////////////

It had always felt as if nothing could go completely smoothly in your life. Even the highest of highs would always have a little bit of drama to spice everything up too. Just something small in the grand scheme of things, btu enough to be a great annoyance. Getting food poisoning from the five star resturanut ; dress rupping at prom; double booked hotel room on your first romantic getaway. Always - without fail- there was a bump in the road.

And as it turns out, your week stay with your boyfriend filming wasn’t immune either.

You loved watching Tom work. His energy was always enigmatic, as though he were glowing. Even the simple things, the way he charmed all the crew and befriended everyone in minutes, the way he was so incredibly respectful. It was just the passion for a new project, he was almost more alive.

It’s why you’d never turn down a trip to visit him when he were away. An all-expense paid trip to America to see your gorgeous boyfriend? You’d have to be insane to find an excsue.

Hence why two nights ago you’d arrived on the last flight into LAX. There’d been a car waiting (under the name ‘Holland’ even though you were very much still unmarried) and you woke an hour and a half later to Tom rushing down the stairs of his rented home - having clearly been looking out for your car to pull up.

Since then youd kept the brunette pretty much glued to your side. Wherever he went, so did you. And it wasn’t particularly clingy either, since you were also reuinioning with all Toms work colleagues. It had been a good two months since youd seen your boyfriend - meanign it had also been two months away from Harry, Andrew, Rachel and longer for others.

Except from the jet lag, which had taken longer than normal to get over, everything was without a hitch. Today though, Tom had a pretty intense filming schedule and it was a closed set- and whilst you had permission to watch from Tom, it felt a bit intrusive on the other actors in the scene.

So, respectfully, you’d instead decided to explore the suburbs of LA - really trying to live that main character life. Having found a cute little coffee shop , which had a beautiful array of bookshelf lining the walls and had that slight musk of years of laughs and love coming from the walls. You’d ordered an iced frappe and was really enjoying yourself till it seemed a wabe of heat hit the cafe, making you shift around uncomfortably. The sort that makes you clammy and sweaty, making your heart thunder just a bit louder in your chest. You tried cooling yourself down with another swig of you 5 dollar drink - except that only sat horribly in your stomach.

It was only at this point you realised maybe the heat wasnt so external, that maybe you were getting ill. So immediately you pushed yourself up, looking for the toilet.

And thats when everything stopped.

You woke with a jump, confused and foggy and very very uncomfortable seeing lots of stangers peering over you. One was already trying to talk to you, but it was a bit much to concentrate on that too.

It wasn’t that this was a new experience to you, in fact you had been nicknamed ‘the fainter’ in school because you eneded on the floor so often. Admittedly, normally your head didn’t pound quite like this and there wasn’t the same ringing in your ears that felt almost defeaning.

The next half an hour was all a bit of a daze to you, but as the paramedics explained this faint was more impressive than normal. You’d managed to smack your head on the corner of the table, leaving you with a concussion and a small cut that did need stitches at the hospital.

“Do I have to go?”

“With respect Y/n, right now you definitely aren’t thinking straight and your soaking through our bandages quite impressively.”

“Is that a yes?” THe paramedic, Anish, just laughed at you as he continued to write up your notes, whilst his partner VIkki was driving you to the hospital. “Is there someone I can call for you?”

“Yeh It-“ You stopped yourself, squeezing your eyes shut as you tried to really concentrate on this. Tom was busy. He was filming an important and tricky scene, one that he’d been nervous for last night. You didn’t want to call him. “Uhm can-can I just fill them in when I’m home?”

“Because you’ve had a knock to the head we really don’t want to send you home unless you’ve got someone to take you. It’ll be quicker this way, I promise.”

“Oh-okay um, can you-can you… call Harry? My boyfriends brother.”

With a nod, Anish took your phone to ring, and you were all to grateful when he put it on speaker too.

“Have you got yourself lost in the big bad world?” You could almost hear the smirk in aHarrys voice as you sighed at your own idocy for getting yourself into the situation.

“Mr Holland?”

“Y/n? Hello?”

“Not Y/n I’m afraid, my names Anish and I’m an LA paramedic.”

“Is she okay?” The change in Harry’s tone was almost a complete 360 and you stuck you bottom lip out at how over protective your almost brother sounded.

“Yes she’s fine, she’s here with me if you want to say hello Y/n” It felt as if your dad was forcing you speak to your grandparents when you were little. Guilty you piped up with a “hi Harry.”

“Y/n is just with us because she fainted and had a bit of a knock on her head on the way down. She’s okay now, but as a precaution she needs to get a check at the hospital. She’s also got a pretty impressive cute that will probably need a few stitches.”

“But shes okay?”

“It’s important she has these checks just in case, but as of right now I’m not concerned. THink she just feels pretty silly going by the faces shes pulling.”

“Only you Y/n” Harry chuckled, prompting you to mumble a ‘fuck off’.

“Now because it is a head injury, ideally we need someone-“

“Just tell me the address and me and Tom can be there as soon as.”

“No! Harry please.” Half shouting, it was clear your interjection took Anish by surprise. “Sorry I just- please don’t tell Tom? Let him finish today and then…”

“Y/n I don’t wanna face his wrath when-“

“Please! I’ll deal with him. This is on me and I’m the one in an ambulance so you cant say no.”

THere was a very audible silence on his end and you listened with pricked ears to his defeated sigh. It made you smirk and ANish cracked a smile at your reaction - you had all the Holland boys under your thumb.

“Fine. On your head be it Y/n.”

////////////////////

3 hours and much prodding and poking later, the doctors just had to stitch you up before leaving. The initial shock had worn off and thanks to the impressive concussion, now your head was absolutely pounding and all you wanted was to get to bed. Harry had been a bit of a lifesaver, staying with you throughout all the blood tests that you ddint enjoy - as well as supplying the chocolate to keep your spirits up.

Just as the doctor came in with a tray full of equipment, Harry’s phone reverberated loudly throughout the cubicle. It didn’t take a genius to work out who it was - especially the after the texts from his brother you’d ordered him to ignore.

“Tom hey… no I’m um, I’m just back at the house… yeh no I started to feel a bit shitty so… fine now I just-“ Harry’s impressive acting performance was interrupted by a tannoy over the speakers in the ED. “no I am home I just um…. I-I had the TV on? …. no I’m not I o know I’m watching a hospital drama-“ You rolled your eyes, realising youu were about to be caught red handed. “-I like them now!… nothing I swear I just-“

“Give me the phone Baz.” Wide eyed he looked at you as if checking this wasn’t the concussion talking, before hesitantly hand the phone over.”

“Tom hey.”

“Y/n? Whats going on why was Harry acting like a freak?”

“Umm… I did a thing…” You replied vaguely, making Tom only question you more. “ No you have to listen to me and you have to promise not to overeact.”

“Overreact? Y/n what-“

“I’m fine but I’m in hospital.”

“You’re what!”

“I was at a cafe earlier and fainted and cut my head so they’re just going to stitch me up and then send me-“

“Are you okay? Did someone catch you? Are you bleeding alot?”

“Yes, no and not alot but enough that they’re gonna stitch it up so.” A little white lie never hurt anybody.

“I’m coming now.”

“Tom, I’m fine! Harry’s here looking after me and your still filmin-“

“Y/n shut up. Give the phone back to Harry please.” Scalded and knowing you didn’t have a chance of arguing, you hadnded to phone back over, wincing both as you heard Tom almost screaming at Harry and from the doctor starting to sew up your scalp.

Barely twenty minutes later, you were all patched up, waiting in a wheelchair (only slightly mortifying), when Tom came storming down the hallway. Harry physically backed up, clearly terrified of his brother on his over protective warpath.

“Ohmylord Y/n!” Tom instantly dropped to his knees infront of your chair, leaning upward to cup your cheeks. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay just embarrassed as hell. Really want to get to bed.”

“Isn’t that bad? Doesn’t that mean you’ve got a brain injury if your sleepy? I’ll get a doctor to come and-“

“Tom! Please no. It just means ive been prodded and scanned in everyway and I’ve got a pounding headache because of my mild concussion so please please just calm down.”

“I’m just worried.” His told-off-puppy tone made you realise you might’ve been a little sharp. So with a sigh you leant forward, grabbing one of his hands in yours.

“I know and I’m sorry. It’s just been a long day and I just want to get back and relax with you.”

Thankfully he agreed, not without spending the rest of the discharge queue flapping around you - especially the bandage round the back of your head. Eventually though, the nurse took pity on you, letting you sign the papers before TOm wheeled you out to the car park.

“Seriosul T I can walk from-“

“THe nurse lady said you were on strict bedrest and that doesn’t sound like bedrest.” Harry tried to help yourside, trying to argue your case.

“I think what the nurse meant was-“

“I’m not listening to a word you say. Traitor.”

“Oh Tom seriously. He’s the one whose driving us back. Play nice.” And that did shut him up, Harry shooting you a thankful glance. Afterall, you had said you’d take all the blame for this.

Tom and you both ended up in the back, treating Harry a bit like an uber driver while you leant up to Tom’s side - grateful for his strong arms wrapped around you. Before you’d left youd asked the nurse to explain once more that it was fine for you to sleep so Tom wouldn’t have a heart attack - so he had no reason to argue as you melted into him, nuzzlingn further into his chest.

You only woke up to Tom trying- and failing- to manoeuvre you out the car without distrubing you up. He immediately set you up in his bed, water on one side and painkillers from the hospital neatly stacked. It were like he was on overdrive, running up and down the stairs to get you fruit jiuce; then toast; then a hot water bottle; then the tube of deep heat. It was only when he was about to leave to go get god-knows what that you couldn’t contain your frustration.

“For the love of god please sit down!” He semeed taken aback at your outburst, unusually following your request. “Will you please just go to sleep with me? ‘m tired and need you.”

Full disclosure, you definitely only said the last bit because you knew it would tug on his heart strings and make him listen. Sure enough, his face dropped and his eyes lit up as he moved back into the bedroom.

“Are you sure theres nothing?”

“Only uou and sleep… please T” This time you spoke really softly, with the best puppy-dog eys you could muster. Sure enough, Tom switched to frantically getting ready for bed, jjust so he didn’t keep you waiting. He ended up rolling you almost ontop of him - so your legs were entwined and your cheek pillowed against his shoulder.

“im sorry if I went a bit too protective mode today, was just so worried about you.”

“ No no don’t apologise, I appreciate it, sorry if I’ve been short with you too. I know you were just trying to look after me.” He huffed in thanks for your apology too, squeezing you that inch closer in to him.

“You od owe Harry an apology too though.”

“No chance! I have to forgive you because you’r the idiot with a bandage round her head.”

“Oi!”

“Yell all you want, but where the lie?” He chided and you just huffed in response, too tired for this jokey shit. “No comeback? Maybe Iyou have lost some braincells - you must be running on almost empty now!”

“Shut the fuck up Holland.” You might be grumbling and dealing with his teasing, but you still only nodded closer into him, more than ready for sleep to washover you.

“I love you Y/n, ‘m glad your okay.” Your reply was barely a whisper, already almost completely out of it.

“ love you too”

...

“Even if you’ve only got three braincells left.”

~~ feedback is always really appreciated, esp cos ive been having such a hard time finding Inspo and being on this app aha ~~

(also assume ive missed so many works of art fics and blurbs so please send me recs id love to see!!)

tom taglist: @lovehollandy12 @hollandlover19 @thefernandasantana @hunnybunimdun @hallecarey1 @cedricdiggorysimpp @msmimimerton @hollandfanficlove @pandaxnienke @crossyourpeter @thegirlwiththeimpala @tom-softie @sunwardsss @spiitfiiires @radcloudenthusiast @ladykxxx08 @prancerrparkerr @wildxwidow @Elishi03 @arctic-monkcys @ownbauer13 @tomhollandlol @marvelsbitch8 @peterr-parkourr lizzyclifford13-blog @user1683 @Elishi03 @lmaotshollandd @hollandxstoryimagines @dancingoceans @happyt0exist @tomhollandlol @judeduarteripoff ​@kayla-stinson @chubby-cheek-calum

[farfromharry]

first, i missed you 🥺 second, this >>>>

[wizkiddx]

missed u too queenie 🤍🥺