#briannas500wc

[andwhatdostarsdobest]

now it’s up to the dogs [t.h]

Pairing: Tom Holland X Reader

Warnings: nothing just fluff and so many good boys and girls

Summary: they say dogs are mans best friend but could they be our guardian angels too? 

Word Count: 4.7k

Prompt: ‘ma’am is this your dog?’

this is my submission for @hazsterfield writing challenge, it was touch and go as to whether i was going to get it in on time but it’s finally here !! it’s kind of a 101 dalmatian au, you know i could write about dogs and not include my fav film let me know what you think of it !

happy reading, lovelies 

masterlist

They always say dogs match their owners, mirror their personality, even look like them. It’s easy to tell who you are going to find at the end of the lead by the dog attached to it. Or so they say. Looking at your own dog, you aren’t sure how true this can be.

Toast is bounding around the living room, the tip tap on the wooden floor echoing throughout. He is the goofiest dog you have ever met, repeatedly fumbling over his own legs and crashing into all sorts of furniture, never even dazed in the slightest. But under all that he is sweet too. He has this uncanny way of knowing exactly when you need him to lay his head on your lap and just let you draw tender strokes from his nose, trailing all the way down his back.

When you think about it, he is the one true constant in your life. When you were younger, you never dreamt that the solid part of your life would be a dog but here you are and honestly, you don’t mind. Toast may have his oddities, but he is a surprisingly good listener. Perhaps that is because he can’t speak back, but you prefer to think he genuinely cares.

In many ways he is the perfect companion.

Maybe that’s why you can’t find someone, because you are looking for all the qualities you find in your dog. It would explain a lot.

Regardless, Toast was bursting with energy, never seeming to tire, something you certainly lack. The similarities just aren’t evident to you.

You are propped up against some pillows in your window seat, noting the humorous juxtaposition of the serene world outside your window and the chaotic one behind it. The thought, ‘dogs embody their owners’ has been swirling round your mind since you woke up, after a tweet popped up on your timeline, last night, saying something similar. At first you were inclined to believe it, until you turned your attention to Toast, who was lying on his back, body contorted. His own vigorous rolling making his ear turn inside out and his tongue flop on his face, flecks of spit somehow coating his entire head. You couldn’t be more different.

All morning you had been overtly observing him, trying to find the likenesses but you were yet to land on anything solid.

“Come here, pup,” you call to him.

Without hesitation he comes careening into your outstretched hand and begins licking your palm, his tongue soft and wet. With your free hand you ruffle his ears, cracking up at the dopey face he is pulling.

That dog is barmy, but he makes you happy, you hope you do the same for him.

Toast nuzzles into your leg trying to convince you to move over. Before you could, his paws are already resting on the window seat next to you and with one great leap he settles in besides you. Even though there was barely enough room for yourself, you still create a space for him to sit comfortably.

You continue to stroke him, his fur silky between your fingers.

Maybe people only seem like their dogs from the outside because there is no way we can compare really. They are so selfless and giving, never wanting more than your simple love. Perhaps the statement should be ‘owners become more like their dogs’.

A woman catches your attention from the street outside your window. Covering the slivers of exposed skin were tattoos, a variety of colours snaking around her body. You are too far away to work out what any of them are, except for one bright orange one on her hand, that perfectly matches the shade of her hair. In her hands is a small, dark grey dog, stark of fur. It’s pink belly poking through. Dogs begin to look like their owners. It really seems like a stretch in this situation. The woman looks like a walking art exhibit, an abstract masterpiece. While her dog is barren, simplistic, devoid of vibrancy. Although they both have wiry hair framing their faces it isn’t enough. The most similar quality is their uniqueness, you can tell they certainly both have a strong sense of character, but there isn’t any physical resemblance that you can see.

Lightly shaking your head, you shift your gaze to Toast, who is staring intently out of the window, quietly whimpering.

“What do you think? A good match?” you ask him.

“Arf.” The way his jowls are pulled back tells you all you need to know.

“Hmm, yeah, I wasn’t sure about that one either.”

Leaning back against the wall, you readjust the cushion at the base of your spine until you feel comfy. A rough feeling spreads across your hand, that rests on your knee, and you look towards it. Toast is licking the skin in modest strokes, eyes looking up at you, wanting to comfort you.

You giggle, “it’s okay, silly pup. Maybe the next one will be the one.”

Both your heads turn back to the pavement, the question still playing on your mind.

A child of about ten skips along the pavement.

“Oh, definitely not.” Toast shakes his head.

“I meant the next, next one,” you confirm.

The child is gripping a red rope lead tightly, which trails just behind her as a very elderly Labrador follows. His pace is lumbered and his muzzle grey, his face drawn out and taut in his old age. But his head is still held high, tongue lolling to the side, watching the child with a shine in his eye. Although the girl is skipping along, her short legs prevent her from getting very far, so their pace is evenly matched. They both stop half way along the path, the girl rubbing between the dog’s ears, a smile encapsulating her face. The dog’s tail vibrates through the air, so fast it becomes a blur.

“Huh,” you mumble to yourself, Toast’s wagging tail in your periphery.

Perhaps it’s not written that your zest for life diminishes as you get older.

Toast has his nose pressed into the glass, lips flat against it. His breath creating a foggy circle around him. You can tell there is going to be a wonderful patch of slobber left over when he’s done. One you will have to wipe off. But how can you be mad at that face? He has such an endearing quality, always in awe and wonder of the world around him.

You scratch behind his ear, causing his leg to start thumping, indicating you’ve hit the sweet spot.

“You’ll always be loopy, won’t you?” you chuckle.

Toast is thumping his leg so hard he starts to push the cushion beneath him, off the window seat, almost taking himself with it.

“No.”

You lunge forward, placing your hand under his bum and pushing him back up. He doesn’t even react, continuing to lean into your affection. Scratching along his entire body now, running your fingers right to the end of his tail, you wonder what you would do without your dog. Your best friend.

“Woof.” His bark so loud it rings in your ears for a few seconds afterwards.

Toast is looking at you, but as soon as you turn your attention to him, he snaps straight towards the window again.

A guy around your age appears from behind the iron railings, clad in a baggy black hoodie and joggers. A navy baseball cap pulled down low. He gives the impression he is trying to go unnoticed and he probably would have succeeded if he didn’t look up as someone else crossed his path. In that brief moment, you catch a glimpse of his face, warm and inviting, the pale skin capturing a rosy glow. He smiles at the passing stranger, crinkles gathering at his eyes, a pleasant and nurturing aura emanating from them. As you watch, your lower lip slips away from the upper.

“Kinda attractive,” you murmur.

At that Toast’s ears prick up and he begins barking continuously. Short yips with one long howl in the middle. If only he could speak, you would love to know what all this commotion is about.

“Sshh.” You wrap your hands around your dog’s mouth, conscious that the guy on the street may hear. Toast stops making a noise instead lapping at your palm. You roll your eyes at your nonsensical dog before turning back to the street.

The guy is holding something, a short leather lead. He had a dog too. Now that really caught your interest. The dog was stocky, the opposite of the slim built guy, her short coat grey, with a hint of blue. She isn’t exactly small, but you wouldn’t call her a large dog either, about the same size as Toast. She pads along next to her owner, content to walk at the pace he sets. Her eyes often wondering up to him, where he would greet her with a smile.

“It’s got to be bullshit, dogs and owners looking alike. The only thing similar about those two is their lack of colour.”

Toast whines.

“Yeah, I know, I know, you can’t see in colour so what difference does it make. Trust me on this one, Toast. It just doesn’t make sense.”

You glance around your flat, occasional splashes of colour standing out, but now that you really look at it, it’s more neutral than you realised.

When you turn back to the window, the guy is gone. A meagre part of you sinks, which is pointless, you don’t even know him. He’s just a stranger that happened to walk past your window.

Two more men make their way down the street, past your window. One with scruffy, unkept blond hair, a beige unbuttoned trench coat and a shirt untucked from his trousers. With him was a dalmatian, pristine coat shining in the morning sun, each spot perfectly round. It was an odd pair if ever you had seen one. But they both share a chaotic look, a wildness brewing just below the surface.

Coming from the opposite direction, a man, wrinkles distorting his face, white hair so thin it was barely clinging on. He is carrying a newspaper, rolled up so it is easier to hold. A beautiful St Bernard plods at his hip, taking up half the pavement and looking inquisitively at the other dog. In his mouth, a ginormous stick, more like a branch, it’s jagged end clinking along the railings.

The men nod their heads at one another, the dogs stop briefly to have a sniff, but the bigger dog is blocked from getting any closer by his own stick.

These thoughts aren’t getting you anywhere. It was time for some fresh air.

“Time for a walk.”

Toast leaps up, careening around the room, bum stuck up in the air when he stops to check you are still coming.

“Alright, let’s go.”

You grab your coat and scarf, putting them on and shove your phone, keys and purse into your pockets. Lastly, unhooking the leash from the peg, Toast running in circles around your legs.

He was shaking so much, excitement radiating throughout his body, it was making it incredibly hard to clip the brown leather lead onto his collar. But with a little bit of persistence you manage it.

When you step outside the icy air hits you, a shiver travelling down your spine and a grunt pressed against your lips. You draw your coat closer and readjust your scarf, making sure it covers any bare skin. It hadn’t been this cold yesterday, the months were changing fast.

Pitiful whines sound next to you as Toast looks up, his eyes rounded in an attempt to get you to feel sorry for him. He fidgets on the spot, pulling his head round in the direction of the path, which happens to yank your arm too, the lead hanging from your wrist.

“Alright, alright, we’re going now.”

That made him perk up, his floppy ears lifting in the centre and his tail wagging frantically.

“Come on then.” You nod in the direction of the path.

The dog shot off, nearly ripping your arm from the socket.

He was usually eager to go for a walk, but this was a new level of enthusiasm. He was practically sprinting towards the park.

Something had clearly caught his attention, something he wants to go explore or possibly chase.

Making your way down the road, you try to keep a steady pace but that was easier said than done, when you have a dog pulling you on with all his force.

Toast is panting with his effort, little flecks of spit gathering in the corner of his mouth.

“Would you slow down, boy, you’re going to pull my arm off.” You tug on his lead attempting to pull him to heel, but to no avail. He ignores you and if anything begins to pull even harder.

People walking past are giving you odd looks, clearly wondering why you can’t keep your dog under control. In fact, you are starting to feel a little embarrassed. He has never acted out like this before. He may be nutty but is usually well behaved, especially on walks and with other people. You really aren’t sure what has got into him. You just hope he drops it soon.

Toast’s gaze has been focused solely on the gates to the park since you left the house, making a continuous beeline straight for them. If you weren’t paying closer attention, he would have dragged you right in front of a passing car.

After a few disgruntled honk, judgemental glares and a shout of “oi, get your animal under control,” you arrive at the gates. The park is the picture of autumn. Golden leaves showering the floor, some scraped into big piles by the groundskeeper, newer ones littering the path. The ground is damp and the air captures that, a fresh, earthy scent that instantly lifts your mood. Autumn is your favourite season and it isn’t hard to see why.

Lining the path through the centre of the park are whimsical lampposts, not yet alight as the sun is still out. This park is one of the reasons you chose your flat, it was beautiful.

Toast has stopped and continuously cocks his head to the side, ears pricked and alert. He is obviously waiting for something. Watching until it comes back into view.

You bring your hands together, rubbing them to generate some more warmth. It is times like this that you are extremely envious of Toast’s thick fur coat.  

“Shall we keep going?” you direct towards your dog. He looks from you to the corner of the park, where a fountain stood, a gentle stream of water sprouting out the top and trailing down the sides.

“Wanna go that way?”

The lead is hanging loosely by your side and he grips it in his mouth, backing into the park.

“I’m coming, there’s no need for that.”

He let the lead drop and then trots happily in front of you, now content you are heading the way he wants.

It was mid-morning so there are a fair few people milling around. Some taking their dogs for a walk, other’s grabbing a quick cup of coffee from the cart in the centre of the park to keep them warm (it is the best coffee around after all). All of them wrapped up, layers upon layers causing them to look like puffy marshmallows.

A soft fog rolls gently along the ground, absorbing the vibrant shades of leaves. It impacts visibility enough for you to want to stay on the safe side, keeping the lead firmly clasped to Toast’s collar.

Now that you are inside and tracing the outline of the park, he has completely stopped pulling. He does seem intent on finding something, every few seconds twisting his head from side to side. You are too focused on observing all the beauty around you, like the white glow peeking through the branches as the sun shines down from above. Squirrels scurry over the grass, chasing each other’s bushy tails and twisting round the tree trunks. Leaves crunch beneath your feet whilst others blow gently in the breeze, hanging onto branches, clinging onto the last remnants of summer.

You inhale deeply, letting the crisp air fill your lungs and soothe you.

As you watch two birds soar through the sky, twittering at each other, you approach a bench. Someone is sitting on the only dry patch, knees far apart and back hunched, a phone in his hands. Toast starts tugging, trying to lead you to the side.

“Not again,” you utter, pushing forward.

Toast whimpers but eventually gives up, his head hanging lower.

It is hard for you to tell him no, his face made for seeking sympathy. But you also don’t want him learning bad habits. So for now he needs to stay close.

Halfway through your second lap of the park you notice how hard Toast is panting.

“Do you need a drink?” you ask.

At that his ears perk up.

“Alright, let’s go to Alvin’s.”

Alvin owns the coffee cart, and not only did he make the most flavoursome coffee, he also left out a water bowl, which he regularly tops up with fresh water, for any passing dogs. A nice man really, always greeting everyone with a smile.

After about thirty seconds of walking, the cart comes into view and Toast speeds up beside you. He must be really thirsty. You pick up the pace too.

Another dog was lapping from the bowl, a grey dog, who felt vaguely familiar, but you couldn’t quite place her.

Toast is really straining at the lead now, his breathes coming out hot and heavy, visible in the cool air.

“Tess,” a voice calls from the side, causing the little dog to trot away. The water bowl now free for use.

Toast looks between you and the bowl and back again, his head tilting.

“Go on, have a drink,” you encourage.

Deciding the water is what he wants he makes up the last couple of feet. He always sticks his whole face in the bowl when drinking, water splashing all over the surrounding surface. Loopy dog.

While he drinks you scan the nearby area, searching for a bench to sit down on, preferably a dry one. One with a large pile of leaves catches your eye, the leaves scraped to one side and piled almost as high as the back of the bench itself, threatening to spill over. Once Toast is finished you both wonder over to it, taking a place and leaning back, closing your eyes for a brief moment.

A pressure on your lap makes you reopen them. Two grey paws, tipped with white are perched on your thighs, two watery black eyes staring up at you.

“Hello,” you coo.

This time you recognise the dog, “are you, Tess?”

You finger the tag attached to her collar, the name printed on it.

She yips, tail wagging.

Toast comes over, worming his head in between your legs, desperate to receive attention too. To reassure him you ruffle his ears, letting him know he’s still your favourite boy.

“Where’s your owner?” you say aloud, looking around for anyone who seems like they might be the owner.

Who would leave a dog like this alone. There is a slight visual in your mind, neutral colours at the forefront, nothing tangible.

The grey dog bends down and picks up a small stick, dropping it into your lap.

“Oh, you wanna play?”

Both dogs bark enthusiastically, backing up so you can stand. But as soon as you do, they grip onto your sleeves, dragging you forward, their hind legs straining from the efforts. You fight against it but with the both of them they outmatch you and you’re soon sliding along the path, slipping on wet leaves.

You have no idea what has gotten into them, you don’t even know who this grey dog is or who she belongs to. The cold autumn weather has hardened the ground, resulting in several dips and mounds that trip you up. The last one almost gets you, barely enough time to catch yourself. But the dogs always stop for you, making sure you have your balance before they continue. Each time you hope they are finally stopping, and you’ll be able to catch your breath, but then they shoot off again, clearly not having reached their destination yet.

You’re moving so fast across the grass you don’t have a chance to look up and spot the same guy from before, with the black hoodie and inviting smile.

Tess lets go of one sleeve, making you stumble to the side, Toast right there to make sure you stay upright.

“What are you doing, silly dog?”

He parks himself firmly on the ground, your sleeve, now completely soaked with slobber still gripped tightly between his teeth. Guess you allowed yourself to relax too soon.

He glances to the side and a flash of black and grey passes your periphery. There is no time to worry about that as you focus on freeing yourself from Toast’s grip, wrestling with your dog for control and ownership of the situation.

He really had never acted this way before. You aren’t prepared for it.  

Slowly but surely you are worming free, you can feel the material start to rip at the seams.

With one sharp, swift tug you are thrust to the left. “Aaarrgh.”

Your body slams directly into something sturdy, hands finding its heaving middle. A dull ache permeates from your side and for a few moments you are too dazed to focus on anything. Whilst you are trying to regain your composure you don’t notice the two sneaky dogs wrapping themselves around your legs, both their leads becoming tangled and trapping you.

“Ma’am is this your dog?”

The soft sound shakes you back to life. Pressing against you was the boy in the black hoodie, his face so uncomfortably close you could smell his breath. Not that it smells bad, is that a note of cinnamon?

“Urh,” you stutter, still not fully understanding the situation.

The guy is moving his hands around you like there is a force field preventing him from touching you. His face scrunched up, trying to figure out what boundaries he shouldn’t cross. It was kind of cute really.

A small chuckle escapes your lips.

“Oh, you think this is funny do you.” His tone is accusatory but the smile creeping onto his lips suggests otherwise. His shoulders relax, and his torso softens against you, the awkwardness diluting.

“Not funny, mildly amusing perhaps.”

He rolls his eyes and glances down. Following his gaze, taking in the two dogs who were trying to look as innocent as possible. Toast’s head is cocked to the side, one ear flopped inside out from the extreme angle. The grey dog, who you now know belongs to him, is  sitting next to his leg, one paw lifted in the air, big black eyes wide and very effectively making you feel sorry for her.

“Aww, she’s so sweet,” you fuss.

“Hmm, she knows that, she’s using it against you, don’t give in.”

The guy waves his arms to swat at the little dog’s ears. The sudden movement causes the lead to restrict even more, toppling you forward. His arms instinctively wrap around your torso, balancing both of you out.

Straightening yourself back up again you look at Toast, your lips in a tight line and whisper, “Toast, this is embarrassing, why?”

The guy seems to notice your embarrassment. “It’s okay,” he offers.  

He leans over to inspect the situation. “I think we should be able to undo this,” he glares at his own dog, “as long as there is no more funny business.”

She gives a little yip which Toast copies.

“Hi, by the way,” he catches your eye, tongue lightly grazing over his lips, “I’m sorry, this isn’t usually how I first talk to pretty girls.”

“Wow, that ever work for you?” you laugh.

Shrugging his shoulders, he replies, “half and half.”

You shake your head, carefully tugging at one of the leads, working out if it’s yours or his. Both of you annoyingly choosing brown leather. Running your fingers along it, you reach the handle, which is still slipped over your wrist. It’s yours then.

“I’m Y/N,” you hold out your hand the best you can, despite it being stuck in between the both of you.

“Tom.” He can only reach your fingers which he gives a little shake.

Shimmying the handle off your wrist you work to unravel them. Tom follows suit. Both the dogs begin to stir, not happy you’re about to foil their plan. It starts off as small yips but soon escalates into alternating barks.

“Guys, don’t get upset just because we have unravelled your plan.”

“Literally,” you add.

Even over the barking you can hear little grunts coming from Tom as he tries to be as delicate as possible when unlooping the lead from around your legs. In a brief moment of pause you glance at him, red splotches showing on his cheeks and droplets of morning dew concentrated on a small patch of his curls. He must have brushed past a bush or tree only moments earlier.

Just as you are starting to get wrapped up in him you feel a pressure subside from your lower half, one of the leads comes completely free.

“Oh, thank god,” you both say in unison.

Unfortunately, there is something you had yet to notice. The dogs didn’t drag you to a random spot. They brought you all the way over the fountain, where the sheets of ice have only just begun to melt.

Distracted by your premature celebrations you don’t see Toast wiggling his body, a typical sign he is ready to pounce. He barges his entire weight into you, one of your legs lifting in the air and coming down on a still tangled section of leather. The shift in balance pulls your other leg from under you. Without even a moment to think you start to tumble backwards.

A bark and a rip echo in your ears as the wind whips them. A pair of powerful arms fold round you as a body follows, lowering over you, hugging you close.

“Got you,” a strained voice says.

You are lying almost horizontal, your fingers dipping into the water. Tom is hovering above you, his face so close you can see the exact and slightly unusual curve of his nose, the way the bridge expands to the side as opposed to upwards.

A numbness begins to envelop your fingers and you draw them back, realising they are submerged.

“You okay?” concern etched on his face.

“Mhm,” you nod, pushing him away from you as you try to get back to your feet.

Toast is looking away from you, guilt written all over his face. You rub your gloveless fingers, all feeling leaking from the tips.

What did it feel like to be warm and toasty? To have actual blood circling through your fingers? It is impossible to remember. Thoughts of roaring fireplaces, bloated hot water bottles and steaming mugs of hot chocolate overcome you.

You blow into your hands, your breath coming out shaky as your teeth chatter.

“Here, let me.” Tom holds your hands, his smooth fingertip kissing your palm as he draws them to his lips. A shiver runs through you but this one has nothing to do with the cold.

Your concentration is fixed on his face, his lips pucker as an exhale of warm air fills your cupped hands. His eyes drift up to yours as he blows a second time.

“Mmm, that’s so good.” Eyes flickering from the sensation.

Now it is his turn to concentrate on you, his lips picking up at the sides whilst you bite down on your own.

Below you, Toast and Tess share smug glances. Dogs shouldn’t be able to do that. But what do they say, dogs match their owners? Maybe they know what’s best for you too.

Pulling away, Tom says, “why don’t we go get a coffee to warm your fingers?”

Your hands intertwine like tree roots, destined to support each other for all their remaining years.

tagging: @thelazypangolin @uglypastels @tomhollandthirst @mysteryavengers @h-osterfield @theprincesofasgard @underoos-shield @spiderrrling @dtftomholland @rachramblesstuff @merryspidermas  @fratboievans  @spacetalbot

[social-holland]

Ugly Christmas Sweater Party| H.O

Summary: It’s Haz and yours annual Ugly Christmas Sweater Party but this year maybe you get to finally tell him about your crush on him.

Words: 1.5k

Warnings: fluff, fluff and bestfriend! Harrison

A/N: This is for @hazsterfield writing challenge! Congrats on 500 follower again and I hope you enjoy it. My prompt was:“This isn’t just about you. It’s about what’s best for all of us.”

“This isn’t just about you. It’s about what’s best for all of us.” You explained to Harrison as you mixed the cookie dough together. The brownish blond man furrowed his eyebrows at you.

“What are you talking about, love? You know I’m an excellent cook.” He tried to reason with you. Trying to get the bowl out of your hands before you turned around with a teasing smile.

“Pancakes don’t count.” He huffed over your words before continuing to watch you prepare more the countless sweets.

His eyes always following you.

Every year you two would through your annual Ugly Christmas Sweater Party. It was a tradition between the two of you ever since you were ten years old. Before expanding the idea with in your teenage years and invite friends together with, how could it be else, lots of buss. In your friendship cycle it was basically the party of the year.

Not as wild as when you guys were sixteen/ seventeen but still an amazing way to get everyone together at least once in a year.

When you finished preparing the baked goods and placed them, you turned around to the div of your best friend.

He leaned against the counter, watching you weirdly. A smile gracing his lips. His eyes shining a little bit. You shook your head. Probably only the light reflecting in it.

You swear this boy made you crazy. Being friends for a long as you two have been, you couldn’t help yourself and developed a crush on him. Not a lot of people knew about. Only your other best friend Tom.

He tried to encourage often to tell Haz but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Nothing could prepare yourself for losing Haz as a friend if he didn’t reciprocate your feelings. So, the overused sentences better friends than nothing came into your mind. This is so freaking cliché and you knew it.

You groaned over your thoughts. Not able to hold back and nearly forgetting that Haz stood close.

He once again raised his eyes at you. “You ok, love?”

Feeling yourself heating up, you turned around and mumbling a simple,” Fine.”

He laughed a little. Hugging you from behind and nuzzling his face in your hair. As if he wanted to drive you even more insane.

“I know why you’re groaning.” He mumbled. You made a wary face, pressing your lips together for a moment.

“A why should that be?” You asked. Your hands on his arms that were slung around your shoulders.

“Because you know that you suck as much as I at baking.” You could hear him smiling in his smile. A laugh escaping you.

“You wish, Osterfield.” You dared him while turning around and slightly pushing against him to free yourself.

He laughed over your actions, taking your hands and pressing himself against you again. Dipping his hand in the flour next to him and starting to spill all over you.

Squealing over his actions, you do the same and whole fight breaks out. Running around the kitchen and throwing various things at each other. At one point you even spring on Haz back just to cover him in icing.

And being a giggling mess over it. When you two are done, Harrison surrendering of course, you two watch each other. Suddenly having to hold onto the other one and laughing even more over how ridiculous both of you looked.

You whole face was basically flour, a lot as well stuck in your hair. While Harrison had hand prints of you everywhere as well as a bunch in his hair and icing on his face.

When you finally calmed down, you continue to prepare foods and drinks while cleaning up.

When there was nothing left to prepare, at least in Haz’s mind, he went to shower. You finished of the task. Nearly burning the food because your mind going to Haz in the shower.

You shake your head over your own thoughts. This was never a good idea.

A little later he appears again. Dressed in jeans and a black Batman sweater. The same you two had shopped for a few weeks prior. Knowing that you had the fitting Batwoman upstairs in your bag.

A rough half an hour left before everyone would appear, you took your chance and went to shower. Preparing your hair and make-up after slipping in your short black dress and putting the Batwoman sweater over it.

You were pretty pleased with your look to say the least. Not something for everyday but hey, this is a party.

A lot of people had already arrived when you came out of your room.

Tom standing with a beer in his hands in the kitchen. He smiled and gave you a hug.

“Today is the day.” He whispered euphoric in your ear, his words already a little slurred. Typical Tom.

You lightly slapped his shoulders over his attempted tries to get you and his best mate together. Standard Tom thing ever since he found out about your crush.

“Stop Tom.” You whispered.

“Stop Tom, what?” Haz appeared behind you. One arm over your shoulder, watching Tom and you. A flush going through you.

“You know her. Always bashing my sweaters.” Tom saved you. You looked at his bright red hoodie. A spider on it, no doubt a Spiderman merchandise.

“Because every year, you wear Spiderman.” You complained, not being able to look away from the bright red thing. If the reason was actually Toms sweater or because you couldn’t look at Haz, who still had his arm around you, in the eyes was another thing.

“You always were a Batwoman sweater together with your boyfriend.” Tom complained in his state. Your body freezing over his words and your eyes widened. You missed Haz similar reaction.

“Y/N!” Jacob called, and you took the chance and excused yourself to catch up with him. While doing so, you could see how Tom and Haz seemed to argue over something.

Once in a while looking over to you. You would lie if you say that it didn’t make you uncomfortable.

Haz glanced even more over as it got later at night. You had tried to avoid him a little bit after the comment. Standing with Z and the girls together and talking.

At least until the brown-haired Brit made his way over to you. A teasing smile on his lips. He stopped in front of you, no saying anything for a while. Just watching each other before breaking in an awkward laugh.

Haz rubbing his neck and looking a bit unsure while you looked at your feet. Somehow this broke the ice and both of you fell in an unimportant conversation.

Getting closer and closer as more both of you drank and the hour dragged on. Huge smiles were placed on your faces and you felt good. Like floating on a pretty cloud. Having a beer in one hand and playing with Harrisons hand in your other.

It was just the two of you. A huge party but still it Harrison seemed to be the only one important. Your conversation died down for a moment and Haz acted on it.

He took the beer out of your hands and placed it next to his on the table before taking your hand once again and walking over to where a few other people were dancing.

Dance to this by Troye Sivan and Ariana Grande was playing. One of your favourite songs because Haz and you were so used dancing to it. When it was released you did that all the time, never getting enough of it. Of each other.

The lights were dimmed. Haz hand never left yours and he swirled you around. Being so close to him, you could smell him.

We can just dance to this

Don't take much to start me

We can just dance to this

Push up on my body, yeah

You know we've already seen all of the parties

We can just dance to this

 You felt intoxicated by him. A for once it was not to blame on the alcohol. His hands were now placed on your hands, moving in sync with each other. Like you two were used to all the times.

But something was different this time. You felt different. Closer to him than ever before.

You shut your eyes for a moment when Haz leaned his forehead against yours.

And out of nowhere you felt his lips on yours. A sweet taste and you pressed yours against him. Moving with each other while the song continued to play.

This truly felt like a dream.

I don't wanna sleep tonight-night-night-night-night

I just wanna take that ride

I don't wanna sleep tonight-night-night-night-night

I just wanna take that ride (We can just dance to this)

I don't wanna sleep tonight-night-night-night-night

I just wanna take that ride

I don't wanna sleep tonight-night-night-night-night

I just wanna take that ride

We can just dance to this

I don't wanna sleep tonight-night-night-night-night

Permanent Tag List: @tommyboyholland @tomhollanduniverse @spideytaeh @smexylemony @marvelismylifffe @t-hotland @jetblackshawn

[valkyriesbi-archive]

always attract | bucky barnes

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female!reader

Prompt: “Oh my god, you’re in love with her.” for #briannas500wc ( @hazsterfield )

Word count: 865

Warnings: none

A/N: Well, this is the first imagine I post here and I'm a little nervous. I was inspired by the song Always Attract by You me at six, it's a very nice song that is worth listening to, believe me. Also, uh, oh, English isn’t my first language, so it's very likely that I made some mistakes in this ... I ask you a little bit of respect and if there is something wrong please let me know. I will post a spanish version soon (here)

He was winter. You were spring.

He was darkness. You were light.

You were everything he wasn’t, what he could never be; you were positivism, you were security, you were joy and you were beauty. Oh, of course you were; every time he looked for the meaning of beauty in the dictionary your picture appeared.

For the first few days, Bucky found your personality excessively frustrating. How could someone be able to see the good side of everything? How could someone smile so easily in the face of adversity? But after a few weeks, after talking with you and knowing more about you... He fell. He fell deeply for you. Suddenly his thoughts began and ended in you, in your smile, in the way you illuminated everything in your path and how you were able to make him feel alive again.

Steve had told him that opposites always attract, that light couldn’t exist without darkness; he had told him to take a chance, to get close to you.

But Bucky felt like he wasn't enough for you.

How could someone like you look at someone like him?

You knew his history, his past; you knew that at the least opportune moment he could lose his mind and be the winter soldier again, be the assassin he was before. Of course you knew, you were Steve's right hand for years and he had already told you his whole story.

You would never fall for someone like him, Bucky was sure about that.

But as much as he tried to hide his feelings, they always came out; appearing and completely clouding his thoughts . For a while, Bucky tried to stay away from you; when you were close to him he wasn’t able to think clearly and he was going crazy.

But every time he walked away, you managed to get closer.

Every time he hid from the world around him, you were the only one able to find him.

"Oh my God, you're in love with her." Natasha exclaimed.

Bucky quickly shook his head.

"No."

"Come on, everyone knows you're in love with her." Sam rolled his eyes. "Except her."

"I'm not in love with her," Bucky said.

The clock read 8:30 in the morning and all the Avengers had gathered to have breakfast in a cafe that belonged to a Sam’s friend. You were late, as always; working for superheroes was harder than you thought.

"Keep saying that, I hope someday you can believe it." Wanda mumbled, taking a sip of her coffee.

Bucky growled.

Steve watched him.

"Opposites attract, Buck." He said.

"It's the umpteenth time you tell me that and I'm starting to get tired."

"Cap is right," Clint commented. "Maybe you should be honest with your feelings towards her; either way, Y/N is the kindest person I've ever met, and we've all noticed that she has a special attitude towards you.”

"Are you being serious?" Bucky asked.

"Oh, yes." Sam answered. "Neither you nor she knows very well how to hide it"

Bucky remained silent.

That night he couldn’t sleep, he was thinking in that possibility. Was it really true what Sam and Clint said? Did you really feel something special for him? His heart started beating too fast and he felt a strange sensation in his stomach; butterflies, he thinks he heard that term before. Butterflies in the stomach.

Bucky got up abruptly from the bed and left his room.

He had many questions.

And only you were capable of answering them.

He ran down the hall and came to your room, feeling the adrenaline rush through his body.

He knocked on the door and after a few seconds that seemed like hours you opened it. You wore your hair completely messy and one of your favorite pajamas, the one with the spiders that Peter had given you on your birthday.

"Bucky?" You yawned. "It's four in the morning."

"I know," he said and delicately took your hands. "But I can’t keep waiting, doll."

"Wait what?" You asked.

"Tell you... I can’t wait to tell you..." He sighed. "That I'm madly in love with you. I... You make me feel like... God, why does it have to be so hard to explain? "

"Bucky, I-"

"No, wait, you have to wait for me, doll." He interrupted. "You have to wait for me because... because I want to tell you so many things, but I don’t... I don’t know how."

A small smile appeared on your lips.

"I know how.”

“You know?”

You pressed your lips to his. It was a clumsy kiss, Bucky was slow to react and he didn’t know exactly what to do, but somehow that little kiss had said all the things he wanted to say to you, that he loved you with every piece of his heart.

You separated from him and gently caressed his cheek.

"I'm in love with you, Bucky."

He smiled and took you tightly in his arms.

As always, Steve was right. 

[butwhyduh]

No One Else

Tom Holland x Reader

Warning: smut, angst, bad words

Word count: 1915

Summary: you met Tom one summer but when fall and work come back things go wrong. For @spideyfield challenge.

You met one summer. You worked at a sandwich shop between semesters. Tom quickly became a regular and within a week had asked you out. Long walks and sweaty makeouts punctuated by deep conversations. Kissing under an umbrella as rain poured around you. Heated passion in the back seat of an old car.

But English summers are too short. Far too short. And uni called you at the same time he went back to work. The relationship became strained.

You knew his work but Tom acted like it wasn't as mad as it seemed. And in the haze of summer it seemed normal. Tom was there and you were there and the only thing that mattered was you both.

But soon you realized that it was madness. He was signing autographs and taking pictures. His instagram was full of people trying to get a piece of him. He would have to cancel plans on you. You would argue over it sometimes. He would miss calling you. And then it turned into all the time. Finally one time he couldn't handle it.

"I can't do this anymore," Tom said in an argument. You stopped speaking and looked at him. "I'm tired of arguing. Why are we even wasting our time? I can't change anything and you won't be happy."

Your eyes started to water. "Are you- are you breaking up with me?" You felt cold.

"I... I guess I am. This isn't working anymore," Tom said quietly with his arms crossed. You blinked rapidly to contain your emotions.

"I don't know what to say," you finally said as your fingers played with the hem of your shirt. "I don't want to break up. But you- you sound like you've made up your mind. I... uh... I guess I'll go."

"You're leaving? Just- just like that?" He asked in disbelief. Tom didn't know what he expected but it wasn't this.

"I'm not going to stay where I'm not wanted. I won't bother arguing with you," you said as tears streamed down your face. You wiped them away furiously. You didn't want to cry in front of him.

"I didnt- I," he said not knowing what he meant. He didn't want to what? Hurt you? He was certainly doing that.

"Its okay," you said without looking at him. It most certainly wasn't okay but you couldn't tell him that anymore. You left his apartment and walked home. You fell asleep on your couch after crying.

He didn't call the next day. You didn't call him. What could you do? Not beg. You went through life in a daze for the next week. Finally his work took him away and he just didn't contact you anymore.

You tried to focus on school and it worked. For the most part. Tom was in the back of your mind but you could push it aside with studies.

That was until you received a letter in the mail. It was a reminder of a wedding you were invited to. Your heart sank. You had RSVPed with Tom as your date.

You considered not going. Everyone was going to ask about him. But your friend would be crushed and to miss a moment of her life over some guy was silly. So you decided to brave it and go. You put on the fancy dress you had bought weeks before. The blue fabric clung to your curves.

The ceremony was beautiful. Your friend was glowing. Her husband was grinning. It was nice. You had almost forgot about your own heart ache.

But then the reception came and you clutched your purse tight as everyone started to mingle. A few older adults asked about your job and you relaxed.

"So what happened to the boyfriend," a drunk friend of the groom asked. "Spider-Man?"

Your body stiffened and you politely stated you were no longer dating.

"Bummer. You let a catch out of your hand. You won't date Spider-Man again," he joked. You nodded and walked to the bar.

"What will you have?" The older man asked.

"What does I went to a wedding after being dumped taste like?" You grumbled.

"Whiskey," he said pouring a finger of whiskey with two cubes of ice. You didn't drink hard liquor often but what the hell. You turned around to people watch and you downed the spirit.

"Another, please," you said. He nodded and poured. You sipped on this one as you watched happy couples dancing. It was pathetic that one single comment from a drunk stranger had you drinking.

The reception was gorgeous. Twinkling lights strung from trees and glass shimmered on top of wine barrel tables. The lovely couple danced together to a slow song.

You shouldn't have come. You weren't ready to go to a wedding and was going to ruin the bride's night if she saw you. You immediately began planning your escape. Perhaps a fake illness?

The song stopped and then you saw him. Tom was walking through the dance floor to you. He was so obvious in a black hoodie and blue jeans. You couldn't believe your eyes. You hadn't talked to him in weeks. Why was he here? Why was he wearing that at a wedding?

He stood before you silently staring at you. Some of the guests watched but most were watching the father daughter dance. You couldn't speak. Certainly not when you felt like crying and had been drinking.

"I'm sorry," he said. You stared. "I'm an idiot. I tried to move on but no one is you. Can we talk? Away from here," Tom said playing with the edge of his sleeve. His wide brown eyes never leaving you. You could now see circles under his eyes. He hasn't been sleeping well or maybe crying.

"Okay," you said softly. You walked down the path towards the creek. It too was softly lit with strung lights. Finally you both stopped a little away from the party. The music was softer down here with the soft gurgle of the creek behind you.

"I'm an idiot," he repeated. "I should have known it was going to be hard. You hadn't been around this stuff. I could have called more and we could have brought you along more," Tom rambled.

"Tom," you stopped him. He looked at you nervously. "I shouldn't have been so jealous. You didn't do anything wrong. And I'm sorry."

He looked at you in disbelief. He wasn't expecting anything. But Harrison had pushed him to try. His eyes finally moved down to the dress.

"You look gorgeous. You look great. I came to a wedding in a hoodie."

"You did," you laughed slightly. Tom smiled ruefully at you. He touched the soft material on your shoulder. You grasped his hand.

"Can I- can I kiss you?" He asked in a whisper.

You didn't respond but leaned up and placed your lips on his. His other hand grasped your waist delicately as he wound his fingers in yours. You wrapped an arm around his neck as he deepened the kiss.

His hand on your waist slowly ran up your torso to grasp your breast through the thin material. You gasped. Tom took the opportunity to suck your lip. Your hand tangled in his hair and pulled his hair slightly as he caressed your nipple through the fabric.

He suddenly pulled away from you. "I don't want to have a misunderstanding. I want to be back with you. Do you- do you wanna..."

"Yes. Yes," you said yanking him back down to you for another kiss. He moaned as you bit his lip. He pulled away again.

"Do you want to get out of here? Because I want you. Badly," he admitted.

"I have a room on the other side of the building," you motioned back at the reception. Tom never let you of your hand and pulled you along. You quietly walked along the edge of the reception to your room. You unlocked the door and Tom pulled you in the room before pushing you against the door.

"God, I missed you," He said between kisses. "Your smell, your laugh, your smile, your terrible tv shows."

You smiled at that one. Tom pulled both of your hands above your head and kissed down your neck. You panted as he kissed sensitive spots. He bit your earlobe before whispering "the way you taste."

You gasped. He let go if your hands to unzip the dress. He let the material fall to the floor as he attacked your breasts. His teeth grazing the sensitive bud. His hands roamed between your legs.

"Tom," you moaned as he slipped a finger in you. He played his fingers in your wetness as your hips jumped. Tom kissed the underside of your breast and down your waist. You were still pressed against the door as he kissed your clit.

You gripped his hair. He pulled one leg over his shoulder and licked a long strip down your core. Your leg wavered for a second. He innocently looked up at you before continuing. You grasped your nipples.

"Oh God, don't stop," you moaned as he stuck a finger inside you. You found it harder to stand as he continued. His other arm came to your hips to support you. You felt your core tighten and you came gasping and moaning. Your whole body shook. Tom supported you as he put your leg down and stood up.

He grabbed you around the waist and pulled you to the bed where he laid you down. He quickly pulled his clothing off and climbed on top of you. He leaned on his elbows and took your hands in his and intertwined your fingers. You tried to grind on him, to do anything.

Tom understood the message and slowly pushed himself in you. He stilled at the motion. It had been a while. Finally he began moving again.

"I missed you so much," he said between kisses. "You are so amazing. I was a complete idiot. Damn you feel fucking amazing wrapped around me."

He continued the agonizingly slow pace. His hands never left yours. "I love you too," you moaned. You began to feel the tightening again. He panted softly and laid his head on your shoulder. You moaned as he hit a certain spot over and over again.

"I'm going to cum," you breathed. You moaned loudly and clenched around his cock.

"Oh God," he groaned as you came on his cock. He twitch and found his release quickly afterwards. Tom rolled to the side and grasped you around the waist tightly. He peppered soft kisses to your hair.

"I love you so much. I can't say how much I missed you. Did you- did you miss me too?" Tom asked nervously. You smiled.

"I was a wreck. I missed you too. Don't do that again," you gazed into his eyes.

"No never."

"Can I get my jacket? Sorry to bother you guys," came one of your friend's voice from behind the door.

You buried your head in Tom's neck and laughed. He turned red and smirked. Tom pulled on his jeans and grabbed the jacket and pushed it out the door.

"Hello," your friend said.

"Hi, we're busy," Tom said before handing her the jacket and closing the door. You heard your friend laughing as she walked away.

"We're busy?"

"We're definitely busy."

Permanent tag list

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Tom Holland angst @walnut323 @little-moonbeam-666 @laucontrerasv @leelybees @pepperminteabags @ballerinaphan @imahoformarvel @a-fandom-mess-02 @marvel-slxt @isabelmeza

Message me to be added or removed from permanent tag list.

[eddiemunsvns]

i’ll be finishing the rest that are in my inbox probably later tonight and into tomorrow but you can definitely keep sending stuff in! ❤️👻

Hey everyone! I just want to thank you all again for following me. I don’t know how many times I’ll say it but i am still shook you all follow me! I just love you all so much and wanted to again express that love ❤️ you all mean so much to me and i love every single one of you so much and basically i hope y’all have an amazing day/night!

anyway! i’ll be doing all (or most) of the celebration stuff at night so keep sending stuff in if you want to participate ☺️ thanks again babes, love you to infinity and back! ❤️

spooky celebration // writing challenge // ask

[uglypastels]

Eye Candy and Dog Treats / Tom Holland

(a/n) wow, already out with another story? I am on fire, aren’t I. no not really. 

This is for @hazsterfield ‘s writing challenge. I had the prompt: “Ma’am is this your dog?” Congrats on the milestone! I hope you like what I did with the prompt 💕

word count: 2233  

warning: swearing 

So it’s just a cute little fluff piece. enjoy.

Sitting down on a bench you took some deep breaths. Your lungs were burning with every inhale and exhale. What were you thinking, going on a diet? Exercising? It was a horrible idea. To add to the damage, it was freezing. No wonder nobody can keep their New Years resolutions. It is too damn cold to run around in a park, trying to burn off the pounds you gained during Christmas. Your friends thought you were insane, and well, you had to agree with them.

Yet here you were, two weeks in and still going strong somehow. You smiled airily, letting out a condensed breath, as you thought of the little list that you had made in the last week of December.

Loose weight

Drink less/ don’t go out on Sundays

Clean up the house

Get a boyfriend

The last one had been added by your friends as a joke. They thought it was time for you to get back in the game. They were sick of you staying at home alone, watching 80’s rom-coms. Personally, you saw nothing wrong in the way you lived your life. Of course, it would be nice if you were watching those movies, snuggled up into someone’s chest, and not a pile of blankets, but you haven’t had the luck to find anyone to do that with. Unless you count the eye candy you’ve been seeing around the park on your daily runs… which you didn’t, so there’s that.

Wiping the sweat of your forehead you closed your eyes to enjoy the noise-filled silence in the park. The birds tweeted, the wind blew through the trees, a dog barked in your face. Wait, what?

You opened your eyes and right then, the dog opened its mouth again to bark. You let out a little yelp, not expecting the cute animal to be so close to your face. Its dark eyes right in front of yours. You looked up to be met with another pair of gorgeous eyes. This time, they were human. Also dark, but in a warmer way.

“Sorry to bother you,” the man said with a kind smile, “but is this your dog?” The question surprised you. You had to blink to make your eyes weren’t deceiving you. It was him. The eye candy. You switched from looking between the dog and the handsome stranger. Well, does he still count as a stranger if you’ve seen him walk in this park every day? To add to it, any time you had seen him stroll around, you couldn’t help but catch a second glimpse. It was unbelievable that someone this good-looking actually existed… And he was looking straight at you, waiting for an answer. Oh right, he asked a question. You shook your head. Had you been staring at him? Oh god…

“Ma’am?” Apparently, you had been silent for so long he felt the need to repeat the question: “Is this your dog?”

“No. I’m pretty sure it's yours. But I would gladly take them from you,” You giggled a bit at his expression. Apparently, he had not expected you to be so observant. But how could you not be, with him looking so good? Not to mention the dog was the icing on the cake. Most adorable pup you had ever seen. It wasn’t a puppy, you knew that, but that little face. Ah.

Speaking of, the dog had placed its head on your leg and you could easily say that your heart melted right then and there. Their eyes so joyful and sparkly, it was too cute. “You’d like that, huh? You little cutie,” you said as you scratched the dog behind the ears.

“Heh, thanks.” you looked up almost forgetting that the man was still there. He looked a bit flushed, scratching the back of his neck as he laughed nervously.

“I was… I was talking to the dog.” You were embarrassed, to say the least, and so was he apparently because he started to ramble: “Oh, uh, yeah I knew that, I mean… uhm, nevermind.”

“It’s okay,” you said, still patting the dog. The tag on the collar hopped up and down as the dogs head shook with every movement. You went to hold it so you could see their name. “So what’s your name then?” you read the tag: Tessa.

“I’m Tom and…” he saw the look on your face, “You weren’t talking to me, were you?”

“No, sorry.” both of you laughed, “It’s just that, she’s really cute,” you confessed.

“Yeah, I get that a lot.” he tried to play it off smooth, but you knew he was embarrassed. “But now you know my name, so it’s only fair you tell me yours.” he looked at you, biting his lip. It was a nervous action but that alone made your heart stop. You had to keep it cool. Keep. It. Cool.

“Well, first, tell me, Tom, has this little play,” you pointed between him and Tessa, “ever worked on a girl before?”

“That depends, did it work now?” He was really smooth. Not all the time but he had his moments. And those moments made you weak. You smiled and nodded lightly. “Yeah, I think it did,” you admitted.

“Okay, great.” You had a feeling he didn’t have a plan for this. He stood there in front of you, a giddy smile on his face. The wind blew his brown curls in his eyes so he had to take his hand out of his pocket again to correct the damage. As he brushed his fingers through his hair you gawked at the muscles and veins in his arm. This was not okay. You had to stop yourself before it was too late. Clearing your throat in the hopes it would break the tension you then asked: “is there anything more I can help you with, or did you just want to try out the line? Because as lovely as it is to have you stand here in front of me, I have things to do.”

“Yeah, sorry. I’m not great at… this whole flirting thing.”  Did he say flirting? Pretty sure he said flirting. Ok, ok, ok. Cool, cool, cool, cool, cool. Deep breaths. Stay calm, you can do this.  

While you tried to stay calm, you missed everything Tom just said. He looked at you with big eyes, hoping you would respond soon.

“Sorry what?”

“No, nevermind.” he shrugged. The smile faded from his perfect features. “I’ll see you around.” He tugged at the leash and the dog removed its head from your legs. Leaving behind a small spot of drool on your knees.

“No, wait.” you jumped up. The myalgia was already kicking into your thighs and calves. You may have been running every single day for the past two weeks, but it didn’t mean your body had gotten used to it. He stopped. Both he and his pet turned around to look at you. “I’m sorry. When you said you were flirting I kinda freaked out because, well look at me, it doesn’t happen often that a guy like you walks up to me and starts flirting. Anyway, what were you saying?” this brought back the lovely smile on his face.

“A guy like me?” he quirked an eyebrow at you. You weren’t sure if it was just your leg muscles giving up or it was that damn look on his face, but suddenly your knees began to feel really weak.

“Yes, so can you now repeat what you said before?” the curiosity was getting the better of you.

“I just said that I don’t usually go up to girls like this. It’s only that my friend and my brother,” he pointed to two guys that were standing a few yards away from you. They waved proudly when you looked at them. You waved back. “They kinda dared me to talk to you.”

“Oh,” So it was just a dare. Well, of course, it was. A guy as handsome as him would never go up to you because he liked you. That was ridiculous. The words you had just told him rushed back into your memory. You felt so stupid. What a way to make yourself even more pathetic.

“I get it.” Subconsciously your body started to shut off. Your shoulders dropped and so did your smile. As beautiful those hazel eyes were, you didn’t dare to look into them. “Well, it was nice to meet you anyway.” You expected him to leave now, to go back to his friends, but he didn’t. Instead, he hid his face in his hand. You could hear a muffled groan.

“Shit. No that’s not what I meant. See,” when his palm left his face you saw his cheeks getting pink again. “They dared me to talk to you, because... “

“Yeah?”

“BecauseivekindahadacrushonyouandIwouldneverhavethenervetocomeupantalktoyouotherwise.” He said this very quickly but you understood every single word. Now he was the one avoiding your eyes. You couldn’t believe that someone like him would get nervous to go up and talk to you. He was so… and you were so… It didn’t make sense. Yet it was still happening.

“You have a crush on me?” It was probably the stupidest thing you could say. He looked up for a second just to look away again. His hand dishevelling his hair once again.

“Uhm, well, I mean… yeah. I know its strange, but I’ve seen you jogging here for the last couple of weeks and I just can’t take my eyes off you.” It was freezing cold, but the words made your face heat up. You hoped your cheeks were already red from the run because there was no way you could hide a flush now.

“Well, anyway, I should probably get back to them.” He gave you a tight smile. His shoulders were already turning around to face away from you but you made sure he didn’t do that when you grabbed his hand. He looked confused. As if he had not expected you to stop him.

“So what? You’re gonna tell me all of that and the just leave me to hang? Not even ask me out?”

“A-ask you out?” he was seriously nervous. From all the times you had seen him and imagined talking to him, you would have never thought he was the nervous type. It was cute.

“Yeah. Wasn’t that where this was going?” you started to fear you misinterpreted the situation. Did you mess it all up now?

“Oh right,” he glanced at the ground, at Tessa, before looking straight into your eyes. “But first, you still have to tell me your name.”

“(Y/N).” you extended your hand for him to shake.

“Well then, (Y/N), would you like to grab a cup of coffee with me sometime?” After a quick shake, you let go of each other. You had to ignore the spark you felt when your cold hand touched his warm fingers. From the corner of your eye, you saw his wrist move in circles. You had to ignore it. It was probably a nervous tick of his or something.

“Yeah, I would like that,” you said as casually as you could manage. “Let’s go.” Eager to feel his touch again, you grabbed his hand. This took him aback.

“What? Now?”

“Yeah. Unless you don’t want That’s fine.” you shrugged. Tom shook his head: “No, I would love.”

“Okay.” you smiled widely and began to move your legs. This appeared to be a bit harder than you expected for some reason. There was a tight constriction around your calves, making it hard to move. You looked down. Tessa was looking up at you, her tongue hanging out as she was breathing heavily. It made her look like she had the biggest smile ever on her little face. Her tail was wagging, dusting off the ground around it. From her neck hung the leash that somehow got wrapped all around your legs.

You tried to untangle yourself, but this only made it wore and it ended up with you losing your balance.

“Woah, I got you.” Tom grabbed your waist and pulled you close to him so he could make sure you wouldn’t fall. Your faces now extremely close. You could feel his breath against your skin.

“Uhm, thanks,” you mumbled. Again, from the corner of your eye, you could see Tom moving his wrist in circles. There was movement around your legs and the restraints of the dog leash loosened. You understood what was going on.

“Did you seriously tell your dog to tie herself around me?” you couldn’t help but laugh.

“What? I would never!” Tom gasped but at the same time he pulled out a little dog treat from his pocket and threw it to Tessa, who caught it easily. You shook your head in disbelief. He was smooth.

“So. How about that coffee?” Tom asked. Now he was the one extending his hand to yours. You took it more than pleased.

“I would love to.” with a little more confidence in you, you pulled yourself closer to him. “But only if I can walk Tessa.” Rolling his eyes, Tom handed you the leash. Holding on to it tightly, you hugged yourself around Tom’s arm as the two of you made your way to the coffee shop.

Who would have thought, you managed to follow all your resolutions after all.

The End

> masterlist 

> please leave comments or send me asks with your thoughts or feedback. I love to read them. 

tagging @tomhollanders2013 @thelazypangolin  you know I larb you 

[christinky]

Comic Con (Tom Holland x Reader)

Warnings: I think I swore once or twice. (Unedited cuz I’m lazy)

Prompt: “I don’t often get the chance to talk to someone like you.”

Summary: You take your nephew to comic con for a costume contest where the winner gets to meet the Avengers Cast. Your nephew (I didn’t name him, Idk why. I thought it worked better this way?) dresses like spiderman and he has you dress like Aunt May. 

A/N: This is for @hazsterfield‘s writing challenge! Hope you like it! I had this idea to originally be apart of a series but I changed my mind and made it a one shot. 

After a couple minutes of begging and bribing you finally caved, your nephew really wanted to go to comic con and he need you to take him. Once he heard that there was a costume contest he was dead set on winning so he could meet all the Avengers. He wanted to be spiderman, so of course he needs Aunt May. Rather than asking his mom he wanted to use you to be more authentic. Its not surprising you caved, he has you wrapped around his finger. 

The day of comic con you put on high-waisted jeans, a striped long sleeve shirt, big round glasses and made sure your hair is perfectly straight. You aren’t entering the contest really, you are just being a human accessory. As you are perfecting your look there is a knock at the door. Opening it, your 8 y/o nephew stands there with a big smile, obviously filled with excitement. He is already in his Spiderman costume, “Can you do my hair before we go?” He beams up at you.

“Of course, we have to make it perfect if we are going to win,” You laugh as h walks in and sits at your vanity table. His hair is perfectly fluffy, just like Peter Parker’s in Infinity War. It is actually pretty easy to style, you do a could sprays of hairspray and he is good to go. “Voila!!” You cheer as you turn him to the mirror. 

His expression is priceless, he looks over joyed looking in the mirror, “Thank you Aunt (Y/N)!” He gives you a big hug, “Or should I say Aunt May?” His joke makes him crack up, typical 8 y/o boy. 

*************************************************

When you arrive at comic con a lot of people comment on the two of your’s costume. Mostly good ones, that only feed into your nephew’s ego. Unfortunately there are also some unwelcome ones directed towards you that made you very uncomfortable. Trying to ignore them, you guys walk around for a bit, looking at all the booths and everything there is to see. 

The costume contest starts taking contestants in 30 minutes, you can’t help but be a little excited. Looking around there is not many kids in the contest, and a lot of basic costumes. The cuteness of your nephew, how much effort he went through to look like Peter and get a great costume already makes him look like one of the best, not to mention he had you too. The two of you decide to go wait around where the line will form. 

There are three rounds, one is just some employees who filter out the obvious duds and basics, then the second you actually get judged by the Russo brothers. The third and final is the top 12 that is chosen by the actual Avengers. You guys line up at the judges table for round one, your nephew is really confident, while you are starting to get nervous seeing those getting the boot. It’s finally your turn.

Walking up to the table one judge speaks, “One at a time please,” This instantly makes you jump a bit.

“Oh, I’m not really entering.” You say with a shy voice, “I’m just kinda like his accessory.” You nephew looks up at you with a worried look on his face, then turns to the judges. 

“Oh!” She says with delight, “Of course, come right up then” 

You let out a sigh of relief as you continue towards the table, thankful that the judges are actually pretty nice. 

“You look great little man!” The male judge says to your nephew, “I wish you and Aunt May luck in the next round!” He smiles as he hands us a ticket, showing that we made it to round two. 

“Yes!” your nephew cheers, “We made it!” He jumps into your arms in excitement. You guys do a little victory dance to celebrate. 

You guys wait around in the waiting area for the next round, they will be calling people by superhero for judging. Sitting on some chairs, you pull some chips out of your purse to share. Out of the corner of your eye you see another spiderman walking towards you, he has a pretty authentic costume, he probably spent a lot of money on it. He decides to sit right next to you, there are a few other seats available so you are a bit annoyed. 

“Wow you guys look great!” He compliments you.

“Thanks.” You give him a smile and a nod as you turn back to your nephew. 

“Thank you!” Your nephew replies, “How did you get your eyes to move?” he asks, referring to the spiderman mask. 

The spiderman laughs, “I’m not sure, its how the costume was made. I didn’t make it myself.” 

“Where did you get it?” You nephew asks, getting curious. 

“A friend, I got to borrow it for the day.” He starts moving his head to demonstrate how the eyes work, “I’m glad you like it.” 

The two of them get to talking about costumes, you are a bit happy he is entertained until its time for judging, even if its with a strange guy in a mask. 

Spiderman starts to shift his attention towards you, “So Aunt May, how did you get roped into this?” 

You give a slight side eye to your nephew, “Well, someone just had to have his real aunt dress up as Aunt May or it wouldn’t be authentic enough.” You let out a slight laugh thinking about what a sucker you are.

“I just have to say, you look amazing darling. Like the real Aunt May.” You can’t help but blush at his praise, you don’t usually get called darling. 

“Why thank you Spiderman,” you try to hid your embarrassment from your red cheeks.

“So,” He leans back in his chair, “Who is your favorite superhero?” 

You can’t believe you are actually making small talk with a guy dressed as Spiderman right now, “Iron man, definitely.” You say with confidence. You don’t know a lot about them, you really only watch the movies with your nephew. “I’m guessing yours is Spiderman?” 

“You would think so, I have to say Iron Man as well. I just has easy access to a Spiderman costume.” 

Seems fair, your first pick wouldn’t have been Spiderman if you had a choice. You and Spiderman talk for a while as your nephew decides he would rather play on your phone than talk anymore. Once in a while there seemed to be an accent from his voice, British maybe? Either way, you enjoy talking to him, it was clear to you by his voice and how he carries himself that he isn’t very young or old, probably around your age give or take 3 years. 

“I have to pee” Your nephew grabs your attention as he stands next to you. You scan the room, there is a restroom right in the corner within eyesight. 

Pointing it out you tell your nephew, “Go straight there and back, don’t talk to anyone. I’ll be right here waiting.” He hands you your phone back and heads off, you check the time. 

“Oh, the next round starts in 5 minutes, thats pretty good timing.” you say as you watch as he makes his way to the restroom. You turn back to Spiderman, “Are you ready?” 

“Ready for what?” He seems confused, you can tell by his voice given he still has the mask on. 

“Judging, I guess the Russo Brothers are the judges this round. I know he is probably a littler nervous.” 

“Oh, yeah.” He pauses for a moment, “I’m not in the contest, I technically can’t enter.” You give him a confused look. “I’m on break right now, I have an hour to walk around the convention.” 

Taken back by his response you reply, “You already wasted at least 20 minutes of it talking to me, go enjoy yourself!” You insist on him. You feel so guilty taking up this poor guys break, trying to think back to see if you trapped him into conversation somehow. He actually talked to you first, you remember trying to ignore him before he initiated conversation. 

“Oh its fine darling, I don’t often get the chance to talk to someone like you.” You start blushing again that he called you darling, “I actually get off work a little after the 3rd round I believe. How about I give you my number and we can grab dinner after. I assume you guys are going to make it into the finals, I don’t see how you can’t.” 

The thought of agreeing to go to dinner with someone you just met that you have no idea what they look like or anything makes you uneasy. Especially since you are with your nephew. He is very charming, he doesn’t seem like a creep but again this is comic con. There can be some creeps lurking around hiding behind a mask to get a girl. “I’m sorry, but I can’t agree to that. You see, I haven’t actually seen your face.” Realizing how horrible that sounds you try to recover, “Not that if you were ugly I would say no, but I mean thats how you can tell someones age, and well I don’t know, if you are a wanted criminal or something. I don’t even know your name!” You try to reassure yourself you recovered well without sounding like a bitch.

Spiderman starts to laugh, “I can see your point there. Here.” He lifts his mask just enough to see his face, he was surprisingly very handsome. You are taken back by how attractive he actually is, thinking how someone like that with all that charm could be going after you. Something about him seems familiar though. He quickly replaces the mask on his face, “And my name is Tom.” 

“Nice to meet you Tom, (Y/N)” you introduce yourself as well since he did not know your name either. 

“So is that a yes to dinner?” 

“Yeah I guess,” You hand him your phone to put his number in. 

“Come on (Y/N)!” Your nephew rushes to your side, “Its almost time!” 

“Woah there bud, they will call us when they are ready. Careful, don’t mess up your hair.” You gesture for him to sit and relax but you can see the nerves are getting the bets of him. 

Tom hands you back your phone, his new contact on the screen to guarantee you see it. “Here you are love. If you want, shoot me a text so I have your number too. Whoever is done first can text the other.” You melt again, these little pet names seem to be a weakness for you, “Hey and good luck little dude, I know you guys will do great.” He gives your nephew a fist bump and walks away. 

“You like him.” You hear a little voice say as you twist around back to your nephew. He has a smug look on his face as he makes his eyebrows do a little dance. 

“Excuse you?!” You snap at him. He doesn’t say anything, just tilts his head to give you a ‘really?’ look. You roll your eyes as you look towards the door, someone just walked out from the judging room. 

The lady has a clipboard, obviously about to call out the first group, “Alright, first group is Spiderman! All those dressed as Spiderman please come grab a number tag and enter the room!” 

Following the directions, the two of you walk to the door to grab a number. You guys get ‘19′, pinning it on the suit before you walk in. 

Inside the room, there is only the two judges at a table and a few chairs on the side. Your heart starts to beat in anticipation. There are about 25 others in the room with you. You start doing the math, only 12 make it to the final, there are 5 groups this round. Spiderman (Because there are a lot of them), Avengers, X-Men, Villain, Other. Thats only 2 from each group and then the 2 that could be from any group. This does not help settle your nerves. The Russo Brothers are just staring at all of you.

They start calling numbers, “1, 3, 6, 12, 13, 15, 18, 21, 23, 24.” They call out, you hold your breath. “I’m sorry guys, you all look great but you did not make it.” You let go of your breath, letting your shoulders relax. Thats 10 out of 25, only 15 left. Better odds but not good enough. 

It feels like forever, you can feel how sweaty your nephew’s hands are as he holds yours in anticipation. Finally one of them stands, “We have chosen our 2,” He pauses to look at everyone, he can most likely see the terror on your face. “Congrats number 4 and..” Your heart stops waiting for the next number, “19!” He cheers. 

You are overwhelmed with joy. Instantly you fall to your nephew’s side to give him a hug. Part of you feels guilty being so happy as everyone else starts to walk away heartbroken. “Remember, everyone in this room has the option to get one of the two alternate spots after judging! Remember your number’s” The lady with the clipboard calls out as everyone starts to exit. 

Walking over to the judges table, you grab the ticket to get to the finals. “You look great, smart idea bringing an Aunt May along with you!” 

He beams with delight, “Thank you sir!” Then grabs the outreached hand to give a handshake. Grabbing the ticket you guys go to walk around before the final round. 

***********************************************

The final round is on an open stage so everyone can watch, it makes you nervous, a bit self conscious as well. However, nothing can take away the happiness your nephew has. At this point, he wants to win but the fact that he made it this far and gets to stand in front of the actual Avengers is a dream come true for him. 

Finally, you guys find the entrance backstage for contestants. You hand a security guard your ticket, again having to explain you are an accessory not a contestant. He directs you to walk on the stage and sit in one of the 12 chairs along the back. Before walking on stage, the two of you do a little dance to get all the nervous jitters out. 

Walking out, the audience is full. There is a long table in front with the cast, all interacting with the fans before it officially starts. You are the 5th ones there, you stand behind your nephew, since he is the official contestant. He watches the judges, completely star struck. He looks at you as he points them out, “Look there is Iron Man!” He squeals in delight, “Look Captain America! And Black Widow! Theres Falcon!” He bursts with excitement for each one. “Its Spiderman!” This one had a bit more volume to it since it is his favorite. 

Apparently it was loud enough to grab his attention, Spiderman turns to look at you. Instantly your stomach drops, mouth hanging slightly open, and heart beating fast. That was the spiderman from the waiting area. Your head starts to spin as you realize what is actually happening. You have a date with the real Spiderman, not some guy who works at comic con THE GUY THAT PLAYS SPIDERMAN. Thats why he looked so familiar, you didn’t recognize him because his mask was still covering his hair, that would have been a dead giveaway for you. 

Damn you feel stupid. Making eye contact he waves at the two of you with a wide smile, probably seeing how in shock you are. Your nephew not realizing any of this he starts to flip out, “Oh my god Spiderman just waved at us!” He sounds like a teenager meeting her favorite boyband, “I’ll have to show him that my web shooters actually work too!” 

It is adorable how delighted the little boy is, you are so glad that he asked you to come and spend this experience with you, even if it was just as a prop. Dang his dad must be envious. 

Judging is starting, they are calling each contestant one by one to go model and show off their costume. They are all pretty impressive, it’ll be a hard decision for them to make. They call your nephew’s name, he stands to start walking forward to the center of the stage, you follow behind him. 

“Oh I see you brought Aunt May” Robert Downey Jr says giving a thumbs up, “Nice touch, very accurate.” You give him a nod as a thank you. You are starting to get pretty into it as well.

Thats when your nephew folds back his two middle fingers and sticks out his pinky and index fingers. He releases the white sticky string his dad and him worked on together. He places it right in front of Tom at the judges table then retracts it. You have no idea how they made that but you are impressed. 

The turn ends and you guys go back to sit, giving him a high five on the way back. 

Once everyone goes, the judges get together to make their decision. Its only maybe 5 minutes but it feels like hours. You can see the rest of the contestants getting antsy, shaking their legs, biting their lips, everyone is as nervous as you are. Finally they walk back in, one by one back to the table. 

Chris Evans stands, “This was a horribly difficult decision, but there can only be one winner.” He was trying to be dramatic, “Congrats Alivia as the Scarlet Witch!” 

The crowd stands to cheer. This girl had a good costume, somehow she made red smoke come from her hands and everything. You really need to learn how these people can make stuff like that. Looking down, you see nothing but heartbreak on your nephew’s face, he is trying his best not to cry in front of his heroes. Giving him a hug from behind you try to comfort him, “You were still one of the bests bud, you made it pretty far. But hey maybe I know something that can cheer you up.” 

He looks up at you with a slight smile, “Thank you for taking me.”

“Anytime little man, come on lets go.” You take his hand and start walking off stage. 

In the hallway you pull out your phone, “Hey you didn’t tell me you were the actual Spiderman!” You text Tom.

“What are we doing?” Your nephew pouts as you lean against the wall.

“You’ll see, we are going out to eat but someone wanted to join us so we will wait here for a bit” 

He rolls his eyes as he sits on the floor. 

Your phone lights up, “Sorry, It was nice that you didn’t know though. Plus your reaction was priceless! But hey, walk backstage and find this guy named Harrison. Trust me.” Okay so a guy you just met, who turns out to be a famous actor is telling you to trust him, seems fair. You grab your nephew’s hand and start walking back to the back stage area. 

“Where are we going?” He asks, his voice is still pretty sad.

“I don’t really know, we will see.” You really don’t know whats going on, your just following directions. Back at the entrance the security guard is still there.

“um, hi” You slowly approach, “I was told to come here and find someone named Harrison?” He can sense your hesitation, and just raises and eyebrow at you, not moving an inch. 

“Oh hey, (Y/N)? Right?” A boy with gorgeous blue eyes and blonde hair appears, you nod, “Hey man, sorry they are with Tom and I. Tom forgot that you were still here.” He says to the guard.

The security guard ushers you in with a slight smile. He is only scary to those who aren’t supposed to be there, good to know. “So you are the one Tom ran off to talk to?” Harrison asks as you follow him. 

“What?” Your nephew is completely confused at this point, “Where are we going?” 

“Where are we going?” you repeat, hoping to get some kind of answer. 

“Well you see, your costume was amazing, it was almost a tie but once Tom mentioned that he had your number and the three of you were having dinner they came up with an idea.” He pauses outside a door, “You see they still wanted to let him have a chance to meet everyone, and they really wanted to meet you kid.” 

At this point the little boy’s eyes were wide, he was putting the pieces *kinda* together. His entire face lights up with excitement as Harrison opens the door. Inside was all the Avengers. He lets out a little scream as he runs in, you can’t help but smile from ear to ear with tears of joy. This was his dream. 

You stand off to the side as he talks with everyone, having the time of his life. After a couple minutes Tom breaks away and walks over to you. “Hey,” He says with his hands in his pockets, “I’m glad this worked out for him. He is a sweet kid.”

“Yeah I guess he is pretty great” You laugh as you watch how happy he is.

Tom leans against the wall, “So I was thinking, they are all going out to eat as well,” He waves his hand over to all of the cast, “Maybe, if its okay with you, we can go to the same restaurant and your nephew can still hangout with them and we can get a table a few over?” His accent is very prominent now, he was trying to cover it up later. 

You pause to think, the kid looks so happy and who are you to break that up, “So like a date?” 

“Thats what I was hoping for, whatever you want darling,” He did that on purpose this time. Your face turns beat red, you bite your lower lip to try and clam yourself. 

“Sounds perfect!” you smile back at him.   

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[grace-likes-things]

Labyrinth

Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

A/N: is this the first piece of writing I’ve ever posted here? Yes. Am I a bit nervous? Yes. For the wonderful @hazsterfield writing challenge.

Prompt: “Please, just stay a little longer.”

Summary: Getting trapped in a death maze constructed by a psycho killer isn’t exactly how you expected this fight to go. 

Warnings: ANGST omg, blood, peril, light swearing? 

Word Count: 3k (wow, I got a little out of hand)

God, dad is gonna kill me after this one.

I mean, it’s not my fault right? Who could’ve predicted the psychos we were fighting would’ve built trap doors right into the ground of the battle field?

Not the Avengers, I guess.

Long story short, I convinced my dad to let me come to one of the “Big Fights”, which doesn’t happen particularly often. But this time Peter was given the ok, so I gave my dad an earful about injustice and my years of training until he gave in.

Tony Stark was kind of a push over when it came to me.

Anyway, so there we were, fighting an army of bots and soldiers run by a man who had been terrorizing the public with puzzles of death, and who was also very persistent about defeating the Avengers (as it was, of course, his last step to completing world domination, blah blah blah) when I drop straight down through a sudden opening in the earth. And suddenly I’m alone, in a maze of puzzles of death.

Great. You can bet I’m fucking grounded.

I’ve made it through two locked doors that required a mixture of riddle solving, fireball dodging, and freaking Shakespeare puns until I finally give an answer that I hope will allow me to proceed closer to the exit of whatever this damn place is.

To my relief, the door opens and I step quickly but cautiously through the opening, keeping an eye out for anything to avoid. This room, like the last, is very dimly lit with solid concrete on three sides of its long, narrow structure. The fourth wall is unique from the last, made of a metal that shines in the glow of the screen implanted in the very center. Still scanning my surroundings, I take a few slow steps toward the screen to begin what I’d guess to be my third trial in this labyrinth of a place. While I walk, I once again attempt to get the comm on my wrist working; just as I sigh with frustration when the signal fails for the millionth time, I’m startled by a sound at the far wall of the room.

There’s another—now open—door. Peter, still suited up from battle, just walked through it.

“Peter?” I say in surprise and start in a trot towards him. He murmurs my name in response and when we meet in the middle of our paths he pulls me into his arms in a relieved embrace.

“Do you know where we are?” He asks, “I was just on the field fighting and—“

“Same here. I’m just as clueless as you are, but if you came from that direction I guess that means the way out has to be somewhere near here, in the middle.”

“Or, you know, we might just be locked in here forever.”

I give him a playful shove and we both glance back at the screen that must be the key to our exit. I walk back to the center of the room and take a stance in front of it, examining the contents.

Congratulations on making it through the second room of your endeavor. I expect there are two of you here now, unless one has been killed in their attempts. Now this room, my friends, is last for a reason. Some of you Avengers don’t want direction. You don’t want guidance in your acts of supposed heroism. So be it. There are no instructions, you have no guidance. I wish you the best of luck.

“Well,” Peter says, feigning amusement, “Whoever this guy is might want to rethink the way he captures Avengers. A bit ironic he ended up punishing Y/N Stark and Spiderman.”

I sigh, “Let’s just get out of here. I need a sandwich and a fucking nap.” I tap on the screen and it fills with endless controls. Some I recognize, but are completely irrelevant to an escape. Others may as well be in a foreign language for all I know about them. Peter peers over my shoulder to examine the screen as well. I doubtfully decide on the recognizable System Settings option, thinking it most likely won’t be that easy but it definitely won’t get us hurt.

“Peter, wanna scan the room for anything hidden? I’ll try to work on this a bit.”

“Sure,” he says and turns to wander, “Karen, could you help me out?”

While he and Karen get to de-booby-trapping the room, I click out of settings (no, there unfortunately wasn’t an “open doors so I can go home, please” option) and ponder the home screen again. I choose Alternate Commands this time. Up pops a list of completely arbitrary words. Apple, Rain, Fork, Lampshade, Laundry, Deer, Gold, a seemingly never ending list.

I’m about to give up on this screen too when Peter speaks up to my right, “Do you think maybe they’re code for different controls? I mean, the exit won’t be obvious, and this seems to be the least guidance anyone could give us.”

“Maybe…” I squint at the words, “but what fruit or color of the rainbow do you think could get us out of here? Better yet, which ones won’t make fireballs shoot through the floor?”

“Did you have fireballs in your rooms?” Peter asks, “I had a floor full of venomous snakes in one of mine.”

“Jeez.” I say through my teeth and turn back to the screen. Assuming it can’t hurt, I select the Laundry option. With a screech and a roar a square of the floor in the far corner of the room opens up, revealing a violently swirling pool of water with steam floating up from it.

“Well, shit.” Peter mumbles, “Well I guess don’t pick anything that could be code for a painful death.”

“That one was called ‘Laundry’! How am I supposed to know which of these won’t kill us?”

He doesn’t say anything to that. After a pause of silence my mind continues racing, thinking I can’t possibly decipher which random command will be least dangerous to choose.

“Alright, well how about a color? A color probably won’t hurt.”

“Probably…” I sigh, defeated and scroll the list for a good one, “Green?”

“Go for it.”

With an apprehensive tenseness in my body I click the screen. Peter and I flinch as a CLUNK sounds from behind us. We spin in tandem and see a brick of what I thought was a solid ceiling now on the floor, a small hole in it’s place. Moonlight peeks through the hole, revealing that we’ve been in here a lot longer than I’d thought.

“That’s it!” Peter says excitedly, “Colors, that’s our way out.”

With new hope, I tap our way through three more colors of the rainbow, dropping three more bricks to the ground.

“I didn’t think it would be so easy.” I say, getting more comfortable with the commands now that we’ve had a bit of luck.

“Just imagine how long this could have taken us if you’d chosen—“

But he’s cut off as my finger graces over Gold, and three long, freshly sharpened blades shoot from the wall and straight through my abdomen. 

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

“Peter—” I gasp and reach out for any handle I can find on the metal wall but there’s nothing, it’s too sleek and there’s nothing there’s nothing and I feel my legs giving out underneath me but I can’t let them fall I can’t because then the blades will dig up further through my chest and I’m reaching and I’m scrambling and—

“Y/N!” Peter shouts, panic and shock soaking his voice as he grabs me under my arms to keep me upright.

“Peter, what—“

“Karen what do I do?”

“Shit—“

“How am I supposed to leave her on the blades?”

And I want to tell him that I can taste blood now, that it’s creeping up the back of my throat and it’s in my mouth and I’m letting it dribble freely from my mouth because I’m afraid if I spit or swallow it’ll get worse because the pain—

Peter jostles me in his arms and I cry out, apologies flooding from his mouth,  “Y/N I’m sorry, I’m sorry but I’m gonna web you up so I can help you and you won’t fall okay?”

“Okay…” I hiss through clenched teeth, accompanied by a string of saliva and blood. I can feel warmth and wetness from my wounds spreading further and further down my body and I know somewhere in my mind that if I’m feeling faint now there’s no way I’m gonna make it out no way. I feel Peter wrapping my shoulders and underarms in webbing for a sort of makeshift harness and hear him hooking me up to the ceiling and suddenly his hands aren’t on me anymore, “Peter?”

“I’m right here Y/N,” and that’s when his face, his unmasked, wonderful, brown eyed, tear stained face appears on my front right side, as close as he can manage with the blades still intruding, “Karen said to leave you there to stem the bleeding, okay? But I’m gonna seal you up because it’s still bad—“

“It’s too bad P—“

“Shit, no, Y/N I didn’t mean it, it’s not bad okay? It’s not and you’re gonna be fine.”

That’s when we hear the beeping of the comm on my wrist finally getting a signal. I glance as well as I can toward the ceiling and conclude the opening must be the reason. At least those colors did something useful, I think.

“Y/N, Pete?” my dad’s voice, “Where did you guys end up? We’ve been searching since the fight ended, haven’t been able to track you two.”

“Probably found a good corner to make out in, Superdad,” says a voice who I think is Sam.

“Shut it, bir—“

“Dad?”

“Mr. Stark?” Peter works and talks, shooting webbing around my stab wounds as gently as he can while I groan, “We’re beneath the field somewhere. Y/N is hurt and we need help, please, she needs help.”

With his words, the demeanor on the line changes.

“How hurt? (FRIDAY, get me a location on those two.)”

“Three—“ Peter’s throat hitches, “Three stab wounds.”

“What the hell happened? (Get the quinjet ready to book it to the compound!)”

“Just get here, please!” Peter’s voice is thick now and he tries to catch my eye. I’m getting dizzier and I’m too busy staring down at the blades, the blood, the webbing saturated deep red by my own life source.

It’s quiet as we wait for help to arrive.

“Pete,” I take a rasping breath, “this isn’t working.” And it’s not. My chin has dropped to my chest. I’m out of focus and becoming hypnotized by the thin stream of sticky blood dripping from my lips and onto the center blade.

“It is, it has to okay, just hold on.” I can see his hands shaking as they apply frantic pressure to my wounds, “You can do this Y/N just a few more minutes, please.”

“My dad… can you tell him—“

“Y/N no,” Peter says with a broken stubbornness, “I’m not telling him anything because you’re gonna be fine.”

“Peter please—“

“Stop,” he mumbles through tears and lifts his hands to my cheeks, softly raising my face to look at him, “Stop acting like you’re not gonna have the chance to tell him.”

“Well I love you,” I murmur through the blood and the saliva and the heavy drooping of my eyelids. When he doesn’t respond I say it again, “I love you. You know.”

He takes a breath that quivers through his airway and says with a tight voice, “I do. I love you too, okay? Just keep—” his voice cracks, “just keep looking at me Y/N.” And I look into his eyes and suddenly there’s a blast of what can only be my father’s suit destroying the ceiling above us. He hits the ground hard, his helmet receding away.

He just stares for a moment. Tony Stark just stares at his daughter who is hanging onto her last bit of strength, her last bit of life.

The team drops through the hole in the ceiling two at a time and it knocks my father back into reality. He rushes forward and begins fretting over me, his hands hovering, his mind searching for the right thing to do but he doesn’t know how to safely remove his daughter from the three knives that are simultaneously killing her and keeping her alive. 

I mean, who would?

But now the light from the full moon above has had the opportunity to brighten this dark chamber, hasn’t it? And Cap can’t help from sighing out a shaky “oh my god” as he sees the dark, dark, dark red that has seeped through every bit of my lower clothing and into the gloves on Peter’s hands and is still dripping, dripping, dripping onto the concrete beneath my feet.

“Mr. Stark, we gotta help her,“ Peter says.

“Dad…?”

And Tony Stark finally takes action.

“Y/N, you die, and I’ll ground you for life,” and he turns his eyes away from me and I know it’s because if he stares any longer he’ll just enter a state of panic that will deem him useless and he can’t be useless, not now, “Nat and Sam are getting the quinjet ready, we need to get her off of these blades and in there as fast as humanly possible.”

Cap, Stephen, and Wanda step forward to help, and my father turns to a hopeless looking Peter, “Underoos, once we get her off of these things every last drop of blood counts. You need to web her up ASAP, got it?”

“Okay,” he breathes out through a tight throat, nods and readies his web shooters.

“Y/N?” Dad holds my face up to look him in the eye, “this is going to hurt, okay? But no matter what, you need to focus on keeping those eyes of yours open. You understand me?”

“Yeah..” I nod, which is really more of a single lazy bob of my neck, while the team tears the webbing from my shoulders and take hold of my limbs. Then Cap starts speaking.

“Alright, on three. One, two…”

And I let out a scream that could bring down the rest of the ceiling, a scream that engrains itself in the minds of everyone around me, a scream that I didn’t know I had the energy for as they pull me from the blades that were holding me together and take my limp body into their arms in such an uncoordinated fashion that my abdomen screams with pain at the movement, and Peter immediately gets to it with the webbing which only adds to the agony and that’s the last thing I can tolerate before my vision goes black—

And I can see again, cloudy and disoriented but I can see. I’m being raced up the ramp into the quinjet, engines running, and settled onto the thin, rubbery, uneven cushioning that lines the benches on either side of the ship, which takes off at record speed. When the world stops spinning I gather my surroundings, Peter is on the bench at my head, his gloved hands pressed warm and blood soaked against my cheeks, asking me to stay with us, keep your eyes open, stay with us. Strange is hovering over me, hands working on my abdomen that I can’t feel much of anymore. My father is beside my shoulder, gripping my hand with all the nervous strength coursing through him. Wanda is at the entrance to the cockpit, informing Cap and Nat on my condition as the former shouts into the com to tell the medical team back at the compound just how bad of a situation they need to be prepared for.

In this position more blood has pooled in the back of my throat and I gag weakly before my dad and Peter get the hint and tilt my head to the side, allowing it to dribble down my cheek and onto the seat beneath me. I catch a glance of my father’s shell shocked face as he tells me again to keep my eyes open, and my head is returned to its upright position.

“Peter…?” I mumble, using all of my focus to force open my drooping lids and find his face, upside down and twisted with tears above me. My breaths are short, labored, and come in an inconsistent rhythm.

“Keep looking at me, Y/N,” he says, stroking my hair away from the blood on my sheet white face, “Just look at me. We gotta know you’re awake, okay? Just stay with us a few more minutes.”

My chest seizes with a cough, and my eyes fall with the pain.

“Y/N! Keep ‘em open okay?” And his voice cracks, and I didn’t think my chest could hurt any worse but my heart tugs at the sound of him, “Just stay with us, okay? You’re strong, so, so strong, so I know you can. I know you can make it there Y/N, just stay—“

I sigh and my eyes flutter shut for just a moment, a peaceful moment, but no, I gotta stay, I gotta do it for my dad, for Peter, whose voice has become strained with an even more severe level of panic, “No, please, Y/N. Please, just stay a little longer—“

And I feel guilt flood every nerve in my body that isn’t already saturated in pain as my brain tells me go to sleep go to sleep and I want to say I’m sorry, I’m sorry, but my throat is filling with blood again and with a wet, gurgling sigh I meet Peter’s eyes one last fuzzy, unfocused time before the bricks pulling them down, down, down, finally win.

And I don’t see.

And I don’t hear.

And I don’t feel.

………………………….

lol how was that folks.

Thanks for reading this if you do! 

[eddiemunsvns]

First of all, I would just like to say HOLY SHIT. I cannot believe that 500 (or almost, only 5 more to go!) of you actually follow my weird and lame ass. I am shook. Ya’ll are amazing and beautiful people and I love and appreciate every single one of you. Second of all, to celebrate, I have decided to do a writing challenge! This my first writing challenge, so I hope you all like it! For my followers that don’t write, no worries. I’m going to be doing some other stuff too, and it will be posted by Friday! Again, thank you to all of my followers, I love you all so much ❤️ Rules and prompts are below!

Rules:

Anyone who wants to join can! You don’t even have to be following me but I am pretty cool

Please reblog this post, I really don’t want it to flop

First come first serve, so I’m sorry if you don’t get the prompt you want but there will be plenty for you to choose from! (update: its now two people per prompt since a lot more people are participating than I thought)

You can write for any of the Hollands, Harrison Osterfield, or any mcu actor/character!

Send me an ask with the number prompt you want (only one please) and the person you will be writing for

Can write either it as reader insert or for an OC!

It can be whatever you want, whether that be fluff, angst, smut, etc. Just make sure that if you are writing smut, you tag it as NSFW (also please only 18+ characters, no aging up)

500 words is the minimum, but there is no maximum! Just make sure that if it is longer than 500 words, you put the “keep reading” thingy

Can be an imagine, series, AU, headcanon, or whatever you want!

Use the tag #briannas500wc, I will be tracking this tag and also tag me in the work once its posted

Deadline is November 30th, 2018, I figure 2 months is enough time to write it but if you need more, totally understandable, just let me know!

Have fun and be creative! Remember that you all are such talented writers and I love you all so much and can’t wait to read what you write!

Prompts are under the cut!

“Ma’am is this your dog?”; uglypastels w/ Tom Holland & andwhatdostarsdobest w/ Tom Holland

“Just sit around and cry, then. I don’t have that luxury.”; nasa-parker w/ Peter Parker

“I should have told you this a long time ago.”; sushine112 w/ Harrison Osterfield & rachramblesstuff w/ Tom Holland

“I love you, but I don’t even think I know who you really are.”; call-me-maddi w/ Peter Parker

“This isn’t going to be a typical best man speech.”; sunsetspidey w/ Tom Holland

“Sometimes being a total geek pays off.”; tonystarkswhoremain w/ Harrison Osterfield

“I want to turn back the clock to before…”

“I’m ready to try again, if you are?”; girlwhocantspel w/ Tom Holland

“I don’t often get the chance to talk to someone like you.”; christinky w/ Tom Holland

“We can’t keep this up forever.”; hollandsdisney w/ Tom Holland

“Is that my shirt?”; smallmarvel w/ Steve Rogers

“There’s something much more delicious I’d like to eat right now.”

“The night is still young.”; theprincesofasgard w/ Tom Holland

“This isn’t just about you. It’s about what’s best for all of us.”; mobtomsgirl w/ Harrison Osterfield

“I never meant to come between you and him.”; curious-penguin w/ Tom Holland

“Did you ever even love me?”; lazypangolin w/ Loki

“You’re adorable when you’re mad.”; menalliha w/ Peter Parker & sleepwalkingdragon w/ Harrison Osterfield

“Please, just stay a little longer.”; ketcups-bitch w/ Peter Parker & rainbow-marvel w/ Peter Parker

“I’ll find her and bring her home, I promise.”; marcymakemagic w/ Peter Parker & hollandofthefree w/ Tom Holland

“Oh my god. You’re in love with her.”; valkyriesbi w/ Bucky Barnes

“I’m not fine. I know I said I was but I’m not.”; starksparker w/ Peter Parker & rose-gold-romantic with Peter Parker

“I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending that they’re you.”; petxrparks w/ Tom Holland & spiderrrling w/ Tom Holland

“We need to talk about what happened last night.”; iron-spiderr w/ Tom Holland

“It’s three in the morning.”; marvel-slxt w/ Harrison Osterfield

“Would it be alright if I borrowed your sweater? It smells like you.”; madds-hay w/ Harrison Osterfield & lovelyspidey w/ Tom Holland

“Wait don’t pull away… Not yet.”; peekaboo-parker w/ Peter Parker & toms-darling w/ Tom Holland

“Serving looks is what I do, honey.”; xxsashimi with Tom Holland & procrastinatingparker w/ Loki

“I tried to move on, but nobody is you.”; butwhyduh w/ Tom Holland

“I could get used to coming home to this.”; tominhoodies w/ Harrison Osterfield

“You have no idea how hard it is to force myself to stop thinking about you.”; everythingcollided w/ Peter Parker & holland-peters w/ Tom Holland

Tagging some mutuals who I love and might be interested and also so its not a flop: @hollandsdisney @parkerstan @hollandharrison @cherryhollands @lovelyh0lland @jellybean-gg @stormyholland @rachramblesstuff @toms-darling @starkravingparker @iron-spiderr @holland-haven @yoinksholland @valkyriesbi @sweethollands @starksparker @rose-gold-romantic @tomsfireheart @rainbow-marvel @tominhoodies @notimeforthemessenger @hazownsmyass @supernaturallyholland @upsidedownparker @christinky

[eddiemunsvns]

Writing Challenge Masterlist

Here you can find all the amazing works that people wrote for my writing challenge! It will be updated every time I get a new submission. Thanks again to everyone who participated, love you all and hope you enjoy 💓

No One Else by @butwhyduh || Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: You met Tom one summer but when fall and work come back things go wrong.

↪ Warnings: smut, angst, swearing

Always Attract by @valkyriesbi || Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Steve had told Bucky that opposites always attract, that light couldn’t exist without darkness; he had told him to take a chance on you.

↪ Warnings: none

Comic Con by @christinky || Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: You take your nephew to comic con for a costume contest where the winner gets to meet the Avengers Cast. Your nephew dresses like spiderman and he has you dress like Aunt May.

↪ Warnings: slight swearing

To The Only Boy I Love Now by @sleepwalkingdragon || Harrison Osterfield x Reader

Summary: You and Noah have been best friends since you were kids. Three years back you move to London, where you meet Harrison. Now that Noah hits it big with To All The boys I’ve Loved Before, he is finally visiting London, and you guys catch up, but seeing you so close to another guy, Haz gets all jealous.

↪ Warnings: slight swearing

Forsaken by @thelazypangolin || Loki Laufeyson x Reader

Summary: It’s been several years since Loki left and you finally move on, but things aren’t so easy.

↪ Warnings: angst, swearing, very slight mentions of sex

Eye Candy and Dog Treats by @uglypastels || Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: Tom makes use of a very interesting method to ask you out.

↪ Warnings: swearing

Labyrinth by @ketchups-bitch || Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Summary: Getting trapped in a death maze constructed by a psycho killer isn’t exactly how you expected this fight to go. 

↪ Warnings: ANGST, blood, peril, light swearing

It’s Three In The Morning by @marvel-slxt || Harrison Osterfield x Reader

Summary: You didn’t expect to see Harrison show up at your door at three in the morning, sure you texted him after another anxiety attack, but you didn’t even expect a reply. But boy were you happy he showed up.

↪ Warnings: mentions of anxiety and abuse

The Crate Escape by @hollandofthefree || Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: You’re hired to dog-sit Tessa and things… go a little wrong.

↪ Warnings: swearing

A Little Close by the End of the Night by @theprincesofasgard || Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: You had no idea what you were expecting when you agreed to go on a date with Thomas Stanley Holland but it certainly wasn’t this.

↪ Warnings: mild swearing, fluff

Ugly Christmas Sweater Party by @social-holland || Harrison Osterfield x Reader

Summary: It’s Haz and yours annual Ugly Christmas Sweater Party but this year maybe you get to finally tell him about your crush on him. 

↪ Warnings: fluff

What Don’t I Know? by @marvelous-maddi || Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Your boyfriend Peter has been absent from your relationship, always busy with The Stark Internship, making you feel like you aren’t good enough. Until one day, Peter finally tells you what’s been going on.

↪ Warnings: angst

[eddiemunsvns]

Can I get prompt 22? I have so many ideas! Congrats love! You deserve it so much more! -petxrparks

thank you so much 💓 yes of course, it’s all yours!! i’m excited to see all your ideas! thanks for participating! 😊

[eddiemunsvns]

Hey!! May I do 13 w/ Tom Holland for the writing challenge? (I'll be posting on @theprincesofasgard)

Ik that the challenge is over, but I hope you don't mind me using the prompt?

hi love! the challenge isnt over yet so of course you can join! the prompt is all yours, thanks for joining, im excited to read it 💓

[eddiemunsvns]

hello!! congrats on 500 wow!! this is coming from my main blog, but i'm hollandofthefree and was wondering if i could write #19 in your writing challenge as a tom holland x reader fic? ♡

hi love! yes of course, the prompt is all yours, thanks for joining 💕💕

[eddiemunsvns]

21! also you never reminded me about your sick fic! ;P

it’s all yours! thanks for participating 😊💓 i just need to know who you will be writing for! also omg i am so sorry, i got slammed with school work and completely forgot 😅

[eddiemunsvns]

For your writing challenge, could I do prompt 14 with Harrison, please? 😊

of course, it’s all yours!! thanks for participating 💓💓

[eddiemunsvns]

Hi 😁 for your writing challenge, could I maybe get prompt #1? (for Tom Holland)

of course, it’s all yours!! thanks for participating 💓💓