#have you seen tom cute ears i die

[no-one-can-stop-me-i-am-free]

Man, I hate hate hate the talking stage. I wanna go directly to the Sunday breakfast stage, the travel together stage, the " what if we got married " stage, the giggling in the grocery store stage, the " oh baby I know you're tired, I'll let you play video games until you feel better and I'll order some pizza " stage. Don't get me wrong, I wanna know what you're doing for a living and what your favourite colour is, but I hope the anxiety eases soon and we'll decide we can make it work.

[soft--dragon]

A Moment Of Peace

This is all just fluff, literally no plot, just fluff

Word Count: 1,857

Warnings: None

This is a SFW tickle fic, if you don’t like that then don’t read :)

THIS IS ALL PLATONIC, DON'T YOU DARE BRING SHIPPING INTO THIS YA NASTIES

Tommy sighs blissfully, tightening his hold on the warm figure underneath him and nuzzles into the soft sweater against his cheek. A soft, fond laugh flutters his curls, soon followed by a hand carding gently through the golden hair. Tommy immediately lets out a content hum, pressing up into the contact before settling back down into Wilbur’s chest, his smile etched permanently into his cheeks.

This was what he’d been craving, what he'd needed. After weeks of vlogging, and editing, and seemingly endless work, he’d been given the opportunity to relax. Well, ‘given’ is kind of the wrong word. It was more Wilbur barging into his flat without warning to kidnap him and forcefully take care of him. Not that Tommy was complaining of course. He’d willingly let the musician steal him away from his work any day, and besides, he needed the break. He was sure his eyes were going to turn into squares with how long he’d been staring at his computer screen.

As well as Tommy's own relentless hard work, Wilbur has been over doing it himself too. The Lovejoy tour took a lot out of him, and he was well overdue for a break. His band mates had put their foot down when Wilbur just about smashed into a door frame from stumbling around in his exhaustion. Ash was similarly tired after getting back from New York and having to jump straight into the Lovejoy gigs. The musicians all agreed they needed some time to recoup, and Wilbur's immediate go-to was his little brother. They hadn't seen each other in weeks, the world was without the Crime Boys and Wilbur wouldn't stand for it a minute longer. Air-go, kidnapping the blonde and bringing him back to his own flat for take out and cuddles. 

It was a great relaxation combo. 

Wilbur’s hand smooths over his unruly curls once more, earning a pleased noise from the boy when he scratches at the scalp too. The brunette holding him so tenderly breathes out a quiet huff, fondness crinkling his eyes and softening his brow. “Sunshine,” Wilbur murmurs quietly, thumb brushing along Tommy’s forehead, soothing the small wrinkles building there. “My sunshine.”

Tommy mumbles incoherently, nudging his cheek further into Wilbur’s sweater in an attempt to hide his embarrassment. “...’hush, Wil,” he murmurs, pretending there isn’t a soft, pink flush slowly warming his face. “‘M trying to sleep.”

Wilbur chuckles, warm and rich and loving. The arm still wrapped around Tommy’s waist tightens for a moment, Wilbur’s other hand cupping the boy’s jaw and holding it there, an endeared smile lifting the man’s lips when Tommy leans into it fully. “Sweet boy,” he whispers, unable to help himself. Tommy groans into his chest, a shy grin lifting his lips as he lightly bats at Wilbur’s arm. 

“Stoooop,” he grumbles light-heartedly, “soft motherfucker.”

Wilbur coos, hand still cradling Tommy’s face easing it to lift up towards him. ”Awww, you’re blushing, Toms,” quietly murmurs Wilbur, heart melted to goo at Tommy’s red face and flustered smile. “It’s really cute bubs, very endearing- wha- hey. Hey, no, you’re not allowed to hide. Let me see you-” A startled, fond laugh mingles in Wilbur’s words as Tommy wrenches his face from Wilbur’s gentle grasp and shoves it into his sweater, ears burning brightly. 

“Tommyyyy~” Wilbur coos, giggles blending into the fond murmur. “Stop hiding sweetheart, let me see your smile.”

“Get fucked.” Tommy’s flustered grumble rises into the air, laced with enjoyment and thinly veiled shyness. “Actually die. Bastard.”

Wilbur pouts, despite Tommy not being able to see it. “But Toms,” he says, - he does not whine, not at all - “This is my Tommy Time, T.T if you will, I had to wait weeks for this.”

“And you’ve got me, now shut up, you’re annoying.”

“You wound me brother.”

“Good. Perish.”

“Hey-”

Tommy takes a fistful of Wilbur’s jumper, burrowing impossibly closer into his chest and lets out a long breath, his smile unable to be hidden even if he tries. Wilbur's antics were amusing no matter how tired he was. “You’re such a dramatic piece of shit. Why are you like this?”

Wilbur scoffs, but it sounds unbearably fond. His hands are gently sliding underneath Tommy’s jaw to cup his face once more, thumbs brushing over his cheeks, temples, and brow and melting the boy into goo. Wilbur presses a kiss to the crown of Tommy’s hair, then gently knocks the bridge of nose into his forehead. With a voice like velvet, he answers Tommy's light-hearted jab. 

“I’ve missed you.” 

The admittance was easy. It was always easy. Though the reaction his soft words bring forth is an adorable surprise. Tommy’s fading flush returns, and he presses his head against Wilbur’s like a cat, having to lean up a fraction to achieve it.

“I’ve missed you too.” The words were just as genuine as his older brother’s, and Tommy meant it with all of his heart. Wilbur makes a content noise, eyes fluttering shut as he basks in the comfortable warmth of his surrogate sibling.

He huffs a soft laugh as a thought crosses his mind. “I’m glad you did. I was afraid Ash would replace me as a big brother while you were in New York.”

“Well, I never said that didn't happen- hEHEhehey!” Tommy is thrown into a fit of breathy giggles as Wilbur’s fingers slip under his jumper in an instant to skitter gently at his bare sides. 

Wilbur grins softly, tickling the boy with a feather-light touch that has him giggling up a storm. “Please, go on Tommy, don’t let me stop you. What were you saying?”

“Yohou're a pehetty bastard-” Tommy presses out, his hand in Wilbur’s jumper tightens as the sensations crawl over his sensitive midsection. "Aehehey-! Alrihight, alrihight! S-Stophit!" 

"Say I'm your older brother and Ash isn't," challenges Wilbur with a mischievous giggle. 

Tommy squirms the best he can in his limited space, weighed down by Wilbur's arms and his own tiredness. "Eheat shihit ahand dihie!" 

He only falls into louder giggles as Wilbur attacks his ribs gently, the touch similar to the feeling of a spider scuttling around. "Say it Tommy, or your ticklish belly is next~" he coos, nails gliding over the grooves and spaces between Tommy's ribs in an unguessable pattern. 

Tommy whines and kicks the arm of the couch as he tries to get a hold of his tumbling giggles, which as you can guess, was not going as planned. “I-Ihihihi- yohohou bihihitch- dohohon’t-”

“Come on, Tommy boy,” repeats Wilbur with a snicker, nimble fingers gently pinching and scritching along his tender ribs in a way that has Tommy writhing and giggling madly. “Come on~ I can do this all day, you know.”

“Wil- WihiHIHIlbuhuhuhur!” Tommy’s voice gave in to a squeal, his body contorting to hide his soft stomach which has now fallen victim to Wilbur’s wiggling nails as promised. His eyes squeeze shut and his laughter jumps higher in octaves as one of his most ticklish spots is being attacked. “Plehehease- Wihihihil ihihit’s sohoho bahahad!”

Wilbur giggles, though he does slow his fingers down to simply tracing around the sensitive skin, a small scratch appearing here or there to keep Tommy on his toes. The boy giggles, high pitched and mirthful, as the attack persists on his stomach. 

"Yohohou're suhuhuch aha dihick," he gasps, grinning up at Wilbur with wet lashes. 

Wilbur hums in agreement, priding himself on his gremlin nature. "I'm not hearing you admit it," he pesters for the hell of it, smirking down at the blonde. 

Tommy lightly smacks his arm, shoulders bouncing with his lingering giggling. "Y-Yohou're- yohou're mihiy fahavorite brother," Tommy gasps out, managing to stick a hand behind him to hold Wilbur's wrist, not pushing him away, just hanging on. "Ash ihis stihill my brohother though, I wohon't say he ihisn't." 

The gentle barrage ceases entirely, per the agreement. Tommy breaths out a grateful sigh, mirth on the edge of his voice as he playfully mutters, "Jesus Christ, you're gonna kill me one of these days with those attacks."

Wilbur didn't respond. 

Tommy lifted his head to look at Wilbur and his eyebrows shot up to his receding hairline. "..Will?" 

Wilbur was staring at Tommy with stars in his eyes, dewy tears clinging to the edges of his lashes. 

Tommy startled into sitting up on his elbows, worriedly taking in Wilbur's shell shocked expression. "Are you okay? What's wro-"

Tommy choked on his words when Wilbur yanked him into his chest once more, hugging him with such ferocity Tommy swore he felt his ribs creak in warning. 

"W-Wil, Wilbur-" 

Wilbur eases up on the tight hug and kisses Tommy's forehead instead, bringing him back under his chin and nuzzling into the soft hair almost as if he was afraid Tommy would disappear if he didn't hang on. "You're my favourite too," he murmurs, "I love you buddy. I love you so much." 

Tommy stares into Wilbur's jumper then burrows the best he can into the soft fabric, heart squeezing in affection. Silence cloaks the room for a while before Tommy's shaking voice breaks it. 

"Asshole."

Wilbur laughs loudly, throwing his head back in his mirth and hugging Tommy close, legs coming up to entangle with the boy's own. Tommy tries to hug him tighter than he already is in turn. 

"I love you too," he grumbles. "You're a prick for making me cry." 

"Almost making you cry," Wilbur corrects, smirking at Tommy who glares back, tear track free. 

"I'll cry at you in spite. Watch me." 

"Consider me terrified," Wilbur concedes lightly, patting Tommy's head. "My worst nightmare; Tommyinnit spite crying at me." 

"You'd better believe it, bitch." 

Wilbur snickers, prodding Tommy's side and getting a sharp yelp. "Settle child." 

"Says the dickhead who keeps poking me, you know my soft spot is my sides." 

"Older bother privileges. Deal with it." 

"Absolutely fucking not-"

Tommy quickly scribbles into Wilbur's upper ribs causing the man to screech loudly and scramble to sit up, wrenching away Tommy's hands the best he could. 

"Tohohommy!"

"Younger brother privileges bitch!" Tommy crows loudly, grinning widely as he takes Wilbur apart. This spot is known to him and a few select others, secretly kept as it breaks the man down faster than side poking. 

True to that statement, Wilbur was in fits of breathy cackles, trying to squirm away while Tommy was entangled with him. 

"StoHOhoop- Tohohommy plehehease-" 

"Nope! Revenge!" 

"Ihihi'll- I'll shohow yohou revehehenge yohou gahangly fuhucker-" 

"Oh, like hell you will." Tommy's fingers dive into Wilbur's hips, squeezing mercilessly and delighting in the scream Wilbur lets out. 

"FUHUCK TOHOM!" 

"Yeah, bitch! Laugh it up!" 

Wilbur's shrieks of laughter bounce through the house, brought on by his little brother intent on revenge. No doubt Tommy would get a taste of his own medicine as soon as Wilbur could find an escape route. Getting away scot free for this kind of treason? Yeah right, not under Wilbur's roof. 

In their defence, they'd missed one another, and they needed to make up for lost time of driving each other mad. 

It's what brothers do after all.

[welcome-to-green-hills]

I don't know what else to put in your inbox at the moment, but do you have any new headcanons for any of the Wachowskis?

I absolutely have a few to share, my dear!❤️✨ I really, really miss making headcanons here. I do apologize if these aren’t the best, I’m still recovering from burn out from Uni. Let’s see what I can come up with...

Family vacations are an excellent way for the clan to bond. It’s one of Tom’s favorite ways in bonding with his kids. Tom does all of the planning: he makes hotel reservations, plans the activities, packs the snacks, he even goes through all of the effort and packs everyone’s clothes for the trip (Everyone seems to do it last minute). While the kids adore going on trip, they hate the early morning hours they have to get up at in order to get to their destination.

Maddie is very sporty and loves the outdoors. She loves to go on hikes and morning runs with her kids. When it’s her day to plan family activities with everyone, it usually involves nature runs, rock climbing, and swimming. Tom will join them on occasion, but he’s often tired after the morning run. He’ll sit in the car to cool off while the kids and mom have fun.

After a tragic accident at the only Olive Garden in the state of Montana, the Wachowski family is banned from entering in every eating establishment. They are denied entry no matter what state they are in. However, the ban can be lifted if Tom and Knuckles apologize.

Tails is not allowed to touch the Roomba and microwave. Once was enough.

Tails absolutely loves to go dumpster diving for spare parts. He finds just about everything that he needs in order to make his invention. The problem with this is the time that he likes to go at. Tails wakes Tom up at 3am to go to the Greenhills Dump to fill the back of the pickup truck with items that he needs. This is a once a week ritual that Tom and Tails have formed together.

Whenever Knuckles leaves the house for the day, he always makes sure to return home with a rock to give to Maddie and one to add to his rock collection.

On stormy days, Sonic likes to sneak small animals into the house to keep them safe and dry from the rain. This has been a habit that Sonic formed when living in the forest. The rain was usually brutal and not safe to be out. He would bring them into his cave to wait out the rain. Sonic has brought home small birds and critters for months into the house until Maddie caught him. She helped him construct a bird house to put outside so that the birds and small animals had shelter during the storms.

Due to living ten years in the forest, Sonic know how to do various animal calls, as well as understand what each call is. This is how he communicated with the fauna back then.

He may look cute and fluffy, but Ozzie cusses like a sailor. The only one that understands his barking is Sonic. Sonic and Ozzie will bark at each other for hours.

Knuckles deathly afraid of pigeons.

Tails has severe anxiety and stims when he’s nervous.

Sonic fears the ghosts that live in the forest. That, and a few other things.

Each of the Wachowskis have a dark secret that they keep from each other (well, mostly. Tails knows and will gladly tell you them if you give him mints). Tails chases his tails when no one is watching, Sonic is secretly the king of a nursery of raccoons that hang out by the garage, Knuckles cannot enter the same room that a pigeon is in, Tom is a die hard Downton Abbey fan and has seen all of the specials, and Maddie has a tattoo.

Ear rubs are reserved between Maddie and Sonic only. No one else is allowed to give him ear rubs. However, you can give him head pats.

The Wachowski family celebrates Hanukkah, not Christmas. Sonic and Tom get the biggest kick out of it.

This happens in the Wachowski household more than you think that it does. However, this happens more with Tom and Sonic more than it does with Sonic and Tails.

More importantly, Tom and Maddie love their sons regardless of their past. The two love and accept all of them. They are proud to be called Sonic, Tails, and Knuckles’ parents.❤️✨

I hope that you enjoy my headcanons! Thank you for the ask!

[watchmegetobsessed]

Family Of Four - Tom Holland

a/n: i saw a video of tom and tessa right after i woke up and then BAM i just needed to write this little blurb! so here is tessa meeting your and tom’s baby for the first time!

pairing: Dad!Tom X Reader

word count: 1166

masterlist

Tom’s phone lights up the same time you hear the car pull up on the driveway. He presses a soft kiss to the sleepy newborn’s forehead in his arms before babbling to her as if she could understand every world he says.

“You ready to meet your bestie, Emma? Tessa is so excited to see you!” he coos as he hands her over to you, handling her tiny body so carefully, making sure she is secured in your arms before he pulls his hands back. “Gonna let them in. Want to go sit on the couch, love?” he hums, kissing your forehead before doing the same to Emma.

“Yeah,” you nod and watch him walk out to greet Harry who’s been dog sitting Tessa since your water broke exactly a week ago and you rushed to the hospital. You and Tom both agreed that it might be best if Tessa spends a short vacation at her uncle’s house when you bring Emma home. It’s not that you’re afraid she might to something to the baby, you just knew you’d be exhausted and stressed about having Emma home for the first time. It was easier to only worry about your recovery and just one newborn baby in the house rather than adding an extremely cuddly and nosy dog into the equation.

Emma yawns in your arms, her little hat has slid down to her eyebrows so you fix it before gently caressing her cheeks. You drink up the rest of your tea before moving to the living room. You hear Tom greeting Harry and then his usual sweet talk hits your ears, the one he always gives Tessa when he sees her for the first time.

“Who is my good girl? Hmm? Did you miss me? I missed you so much!” Tessa’s feet tippy-tap on the concrete outside the front door and judging from the sounds, she is over the moon to be back home.

“How is Y/N doing?” Harry asks while Tom probably rubs Tessa wherever he can reach her, trying to make her excitement die down a little before they get inside.

“She is doing great! Getting used to the new sleeping schedule, but things are going good.”

You smile at his words, because you’re not the only one with a new sleeping schedule, especially since Tom is always the one to check on Emma when her cries fill the room through the baby monitor and if it’s not time to feed her, he always tells you to go back to sleep and let him handle it. He has been on full daddy duty and you had no doubt he would be the most wonderful dad to ever walk this earth.

The boys talk outside a little longer before you see the front door opening and Tom sticks his head inside. You smile up at him, Emma nestled comfortably in your arms.

“Hey, you ready for Tess?” he asks softly.

“Yeah, it’s time for their first meeting,” you chuckle. Tom nods and disappears from your vision. Then Harry walks in, greeting you sweetly before he kisses Emma’s head.

“Look at her! She’s already changed so much!” he beams, watching his niece in awe.

“Right? She looks less like an old man,” you joke. Your daughter was the most beautiful thing you’ve ever laid your eyes on, but that didn’t stop you from cracking a joke that she was so wrinkly when she was born, she resembled an old man. The wrinkles have smoothed out a little by now and though she is the queen of weird faces, especially when she is creaming her diapers mercilessly, you’ve never seen anything like her before.

Harry sits on the other end of the couch and pulls his phone out to tape the first meeting. Tom’s fans have been begging to see this interaction since you announced your pregnancy with a sweet post on Instagram in your third trimester, especially because it featured Tessa. During your pregnancy Tessa was obsessed with your belly, she would always snuggle close to it in bed or on the couch, as if she was guarding the baby from day one and on the photo you posted, she had her head resting on your bump as the two of you were cuddled up on the couch. People went crazy over how cute it was, the picture got ten million likes within the first thirty minutes and it’s been still going up since then. And now it’s time for their first official meeting.

“Tess, gently! Calm down!” Tom calls out as he appears again, this time holding Tessa’s collar so she doesn’t run free, but it’s pretty clear that she is about to jump out of her fur, probably already smelling Emma. Her eyes quickly find you on the couch and the little bundle of joy in your arms and Tessa whines to her daddy to be let free, but Tom holds onto her tightly.

“Tessa, calm down. You have to be gentle with mommy and Emma,” he warns her again and though her jumps die down a little, her tail keeps wiggling like crazy as her eyes never leave the baby in your arms.

“Hi Tessa, I missed you so much!” you coo at her and she licks her face, nudging your leg as her way of saying that she missed you too. You share a special bond with Tessa, you still remember the first time Tom brought you home and you met her. It’s like you became instant best friends, Tom often complained that whenever you were sleeping over Tessa preferred to snuggle up to you instead of him.

“Tess, meet your new sister, Emma,” Tom softly tells her, holding her back with two hands as you bring Emma closer to her, still keeping a little distance at first.

All three of you watch the interaction in silence, Tessa sniffs the baby around, getting used to the new smell, a few more whines fall from her mouth before she slowly calms down and nudges Emma’s bum in your arms gently. When Tessa has clearly calmed down, Tom carefully lets go of her but still stays close in case she needs to be pulled back, but you know Tessa would never hurt Emma, she is already just as obsessed with her as you are.

“I’m literally about to cry,” Tom whispers, when Tessa lays her head across Emma’s lap, as if she was guarding the tiny baby.

“Keep it together, Daddy,” you chuckle, but you can feel your eyes watering as well.

Harry snaps a few more pictures once he stops recording and he manages to take one that resembles the photo you posted on Instagram about the pregnancy announcement. It’s perfect to announce Emma’s arrival that’s been kept a secret so far. Tom puts a black and white filter over it before writing a sweet caption, letting the world know that now you are a family of four: Tom, you, Emma and Tessa.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

[hakasims]

The Most Important Review of Every Single Marwan Kenzari Film

If you’ve seen this one about Luca, you know the drill.

Now, Marwan’s brand is a little less defined than Luca’s but I managed to find similar tropes in a lot of his films. Also, rather than copy myself and give you a redundant Marwanmeter, I decided instead to recommend which Luca character best pairs with each Marwan character for your crossover pleasure. Let’s see if we ship the same things! Some of them are crack. You’re welcome.

(all gifs again by the awesomely amazing @weardes​ who did not ask to be my gif factory but life’s a bitch)

Het zusje van Katia (2008)

Will you miss him if you blink? Kinda. They talk about him a lot but his actual screen time is like 43.7 seconds. Also can I just say... he’s supposed to be from Italy?? The boy says literally one (1) Italian word, and you’ll never guess what it is. (Obviously, it’s “bella” like there’s a chance he could’ve said anything else.)

Is he hot? Painfully hot.

Is he naked? There’s this one scene where he’s wearing the sluttiest pair of speedos I’ve ever seen in my entire life.

Does his hair look great? Actually, yes. Perfect hair, perfect beard, he looks amazing.

Does he fuck? Yes, a lot - off screen, including an M/M/F threesome he presumably, probably, most definitely initiated.

Best paired with? From what I’ve gathered, this hoe ain’t loyal, so the best course of action is to find him a Luca that would benefit from a one night stand with no strings attached and wouldn’t fall in love with him. The obvious choice here is Valerio from Slam - Tutto per una ragazza. They meet, they fuck, then Giac makes his 4-hour drive back to Pisa, and they don’t see each other again until the next time he’s in Rome. Everybody’s happy, especially the two sluts in question.

De laatste dagen van Emma Blank (2009)

Will you miss him if you blink? Yes, absolutely.

Is he hot? Very.

Is he naked? Almost constantly.

Does his hair look great? He’s got those cute short curls, he looks so good.

Does he fuck? That’s literally why he’s there: to fuck and to die.

Best paired with? Man, I wish I had something to work with here. The only thing we know about him besides his sexual prowess is his affinity for white suits and toy helicopters. And as far as I know, those might be the exact things Fabrizio from Nina finds hot in guys. So like, why not?

Loft (2010)

Will you miss him if you blink? He’s the fifth most important character.

Is he hot? Yeah, sure.

Is he naked? There’s a scene where he’s wearing underwear and a tank top but it somehow makes him look like a kindergartener.

Does his hair look great? It looks quite nice.

Does he fuck? Yes, though I wish he didn’t.

Best paired with? Tom is a very violent person and a drug addict. He does messed up stuff to his sexual partners I’d rather he didn’t do to any of Luca’s characters. Feel free to use him for your sadistic fantasies or as a villain or whatever.

Rabat (2011)

Will you miss him if you blink? No, he’s one of the three leads.

Is he hot? Oh yes! And cute!

Is he naked? He’s at the beach wearing nothing but boxer shorts.

Does his hair look great? He’s got this extreme undercut thing that would look ridiculous on anyone less pretty, so like no, he doesn’t have great hair, but also like it’s Marwan, you know what I mean?

Does he fuck? Before he embarks on a road trip with his friends, he has an offscreen threesome with two girls he picked up at a wedding. Slut.

Best paired with? Gabriele from Waves. They’re both sweet guys who could meet in some Tunisian port and decide to sail the Mediterranean Sea together.

Black Out (2012)

Will you miss him if you blink? Not unless your blinking is very deliberate.

Is he hot? Not really. He’s a dirty cop with a shitty moustache and oral fixation.

Is he naked? No, but I wish he was: his clothes are awful. Marwan is 29 in this movie and he looks 50!

Does his hair look great? Nope. They took Marwan’s usual short hair and made it not work somehow.

Does he fuck? No.

Best paired with? The one thing Luca’s characters all have in common is that none of them come off as bootlickers. All of them are either too soft for such a relationship or wouldn’t waste their spit on a cop.

Wolf (2013)

Will you miss him if you blink? No, he’s the protagonist.

Is he hot? *gestures wildly at the gif*

Is he naked? He’s got quite a few shirtless scenes.

Does his hair look great? It’s nothing special but suits his character well.

Does he fuck? Oh yes.

Best paired with? Hear me out. I know that some people ship him with Fabio, but in my opinion that pair, while hot, doesn’t work. Here’s my pitch: Cesare from Non essere cattivo. The drug connection is still there, but in this case Majid’s problem-solving skills won’t fall on deaf ears. Cesare needs a daddy, ok? Majid can be a daddy when he needs to, especially when he has a soft boyfriend to care for. And Majid needs soft, not psycho.

Hartenstraat (2014)

Will you miss him if you blink? No, he’s the protagonist once again.

Is he hot? Painfully.

Is he naked? There’s that iconic scene where he’s wearing nothing but black boxer briefs and boots while carrying a tray...

Does his hair look great? He’s got Joe-like curls and looks like what every male romantic lead should aspire to look like and then cry because they all fail.

Does he fuck? There’s one very unfortunate sex scene played for laughs. I’m pretty sure he’ll need therapy afterwards. I certainly do.

Best paired with? Paolo from Il padre d’Italia. Paolo deserves the best boyfriend, and who’s better than Daan, an extremely hot man who cooks? They both have daughters, so they can talk about that, I guess, and Paolo can finally have a family. Honestly, this is so wholesome I just made myself cry.

Lucia de B. (2014)

Will you miss him if you blink? For sure.

Is he hot? He’s a cop. Again. But he looks good.

Is he naked? Fully dressed, but man are his clothes ugly. Is that a cop thing?

Does his hair look great? He has slightly longer curls, which is fine and the best thing about this character.

Does he fuck? ACAB. (I know this doesn’t answer the question, I just wanted to make it clear.)

Best paired with? See my bootlicker comment from earlier. While Detective *checks notes* Ron Leeflang isn’t explicitly corrupt, he’s obviously a dick, so the best I can do here is recommend any Luca character that has ever been in trouble with the law for any fics about power imbalance you want to write but aren’t comfortable with a nice Marwan playing the villain.

Bloedlink (2014)

Will you miss him if you blink? Oh no, he’s there the entire time.

Is he hot? In a weird way, yes.

Is he naked? So, so, so naked. Like, leave nothing to the imagination naked.

Does his hair look great? I’d say that little rat tail is the exact opposite of great.

Does he fuck? Probably more than is good for him. I should also add that he’s canonically queer in this.

Best paired with? Rico is a pathetic loser in need of someone who’s got his life together and has a lot of experience dealing with fuckups. Enter Loris from Il mondo fino in fondo. He has a stable job and a savior complex, and with his little bro gaying it up in Chile and not needing him anymore, all he wants right now is someone to fix. I should be a fucking matchmaker in real life, for real.

Pak van mijn hart (2014)

Will you miss him if you blink? Undoubtedly.

Is he hot? No. The whole point of his character is to be the lesser choice compared to a guy who looks like a completely ordinary bland white dude...

Is he naked? ...so of course he isn’t naked! What, are they gonna take this poor woman, show her Marwan Kenzari’s post-Wolf body and expect her to choose her deeply mediocre ex? Please! They’re gonna dress him in the dorkiest clothes possible...

Does his hair look great? ...and make him wear the most awful wig that was clearly run over by a truck.

Does he fuck? No. As you can observe, they tried really hard to make him unfuckable, but honestly, he seems like a perfectly nice guy.

Best paired with? You know what? Mattia from La solitudine dei numeri primi is in desperate need of some sweetness and normalcy. I’m sure Richard will treat him with kindness and respect.

Collide (2016)

Will you miss him if you blink? He’s the fifth most important character. Out of five.

Is he hot? Very hot.

Is he naked? Not for a second! What’s up with American movies where people aren’t just casually walking around naked without any plot necessity???

Does his hair look great? His curls are so cute you guys! Look at them!

Does he fuck? Not explicitly.

Best paired with? Fabio from Lo chiamavano Jeeg Robot. Again, the drug connection is there, but Matthias is soft enough not to butt heads with Fabio and, by the end of the movie, rich enough to satisfy his cravings for good living and fame. Also look at how good their color coordination is with those dark wine red clothes! Sometimes planets just align, okay?

Ben-Hur (2016)

Will you miss him if you blink? Yes, especially if you aren’t watching the background.

Is he hot? Your usual Marwan hot.

Is he naked? No.

Does his hair look great? His typical short curls with a twist. I think the forehead area is supposed to invoke the Caesar cut? I don’t know. It looks fine when not hidden under that dumb helmet.

Does he fuck? No.

Best paired with? A better script and a much better director. (Seriously, what is this blocking?)

The Promise (2016)

Will you miss him if you blink? He’s there a decent amount in the first half of the movie and then almost completely disappears in the second half.

Is he hot? Very much, yes.

Is he naked? Unfortunately, no.

Does his hair look great? He’s got short curls again, but this time they’re fashionably styled, it’s magnificent.

Does he fuck? Oh yeah! And there’s no way he isn’t bi or pan in this. No way.

Best paired with? Roberta from L’ultimo terrestre. Listen, Emre Ogan may be a slut but he’s a gentleman, okay? He’d treat Roberta right and he’s got daddy’s cash to spare on hundreds of gorgeous white dresses for her.

The Mummy (2017)

Will you miss him if you blink? He’s there, but barely.

Is he hot? Dangerously hot.

Is he naked? Not once! Instead we get a naked Tom Cruise literally no one asked for.

Does his hair look great? It’s your basic professional short hairdo.

Does he fuck? No.

Best paired with? Malik is a member of an organization tracking and destroying various monsters and historical artefacts related to them. Guido from Tutti i santi giorni speaks four languages, including Latin, and is a literature and ancient history nerd which makes him a valuable asset. Malik can fight and protect; Guido is bumbling and in need of saving. Guys, this writes itself.

What Happened to Monday (2017)

Will you miss him if you blink? No, especially not in the third act.

Is he hot? He’s okay.

Is he naked? Very naked.

Does his hair look great? They shouldn’t have greased his curls back. He looks like another victim of Fabio Cannizzaro’s stylist. Also I wish he’d either shaved or finished growing out that beard.

Does he fuck? He fucks and he fucks good. He’ll go down on you, he’ll deflower you slowly and gently, he’ll choke you if you want him to, he’ll spoon you all night, he’ll give you emotional support, he’ll murder people for you - he’s down for whatever.

Best paired with? There’s one Luca character who needs a lot of sex and even more emotional support. Alright, most of them do, but I’m thinking of Ettore from Lasciate andare. He needs it, okay? Good dicking, good spooning, a good ear, a fine piece of ass to cry into - you get the gist. Most importantly: someone who’d love him for who he is and with whom he could relax and be himself. (Also, I see you, people comparing him to Fabio. Shame on you for sleeping on this soft boy and judging him based on his appearance.)

Murder on the Orient Express (2017)

Will you miss him if you blink? He’s kinda always present, being very French.

Is he hot? Very hot.

Is he naked? No, but I’m willing to forgive that because he looks so good in his conductor uniform.

Does his hair look great? He never takes off his hat.

Does he fuck? No.

Best paired with? Mickey Miranda. They’re both murderers morally dubious characters who would look hot together. What else do you need? (Again, I see you, people who want Pierre for Roberta because he’s a “nice guy”, and I know for a fact you didn’t watch the movie. Spoilers, I guess.)

The Angel (2018)

Will you miss him if you blink? No, he’s the protagonist.

Is he hot? Oh yes.

Is he naked? Not once, but you won’t regret it because he’s wearing excellently stylish 1970s clothes.

Does his hair look great? It looks fantastic. The sideburns (not yet seen here) are a good touch.

Does he fuck? He can definitely get it, but he’s loyal to his wife.

Best paired with? As the most aesthetically coherent and fashionably hot pair in this post, Ashraf and Primo are a no-brainer. Can you imagine Primo calling him “Angel” in different contexts? When he’s being intimidating, not realizing how palpable the sexual tension between them is, and later not even hiding his arousal? Sometimes things just work because they’re hot. That’s all, folks.

Aladdin (2019)

Will you miss him if you blink? No, he’s the main villain.

Is he hot? It’s not like he went viral for being the “hot Jafar” or anything.

Is he naked? No! Fucking thanks a lot, Disney.

Does his hair look great? He has a buzz cut under that turban but he looks good in the turban, so that’s something.

Does he fuck? It’s a Disney movie, so he doesn’t fuck - explicitly or otherwise - but he still comes off as a thirsty bitch.

Best paired with? Jafar ends the movie as a genie who’s obligated to grant his master three wishes but is enough of a petty bitch to exploit the hell out of the “gray area” and screw them over Wishmaster style. My unconventional pair for him is Lui from Ricordi? So many scenarios with distorted memories and magic-induced mindfuck. So many possibilities for awesome and messed up crossover gifsets! Don’t say I never give you guys anything.

Instinct (2019)

Will you miss him if you blink? No, he’s very prominent.

Is he hot? I hate myself for finding him hot but I do.

Is he naked? He’s playing basketball shirtless in one scene, shaking his sweaty boobs everywhere.

Does his hair look great? His weird mohawk-like thing is honestly terrible, but if anything can make it work, it’s Marwan’s bone structure.

Does he fuck? Um, I’m pleading the Fifth on this one for the sake of good taste.

Best paired with? Prison. A very lonely, Luca-less prison.

The Old Guard (2020)

Will you miss him if you blink? No, unless blinking in your case means sleeping through the gloriousness that is the first ever canonically gay couple in an American action film.

Is he hot? Painfully.

Is he naked? Shirtless in one scene.

Does his hair look great? Soft curls courtesy of Luca Marinelli’s tireless lobbying.

Does he fuck? Not on screen, but you can just tell by the way he looks at his husband and reads impromptu poetry right to his face. And everybody knows nothing kindles the fires of passion quite like murdering homophobes together.

Best paired with? If you have to ask, you’re clearly reading this by mistake. In which case, kudos for finishing such a long and confusing post, now go watch The Old Guard and cry at the beauty that is The Immortal Marriage.

[critical-thinking-is-mandatory]

I'm still feelings a lot of Emotions™ over the beginning of Weredad, so how about something where Marinette sees /exactly/ what her so-called "Partner" is doing, actively sabotaging her attempts to save civilians (her parents) and actively letting a teenage girl (her) die horribly when her home is destroyed, because Adrien would rather force a kiss on her lips rather than do his job and help her defeat the villain that is about to brutally kill two more civilians? We saw Gigantitan literally crush a car into nothing carelessly underfoot; now imagine what Tom and Sabine would look like, or what shape Marinette would have been in if she had been in her bedroom, untransformed while Adrien doesn't even bat an eye.

i had so much fun writing this one honestly >:)

-

“Marinette!” Marinette jumped at the cry of her name, a broken cry still audible over the crumbling of brick and wood. Her mum and dad stood on the front step of the bakery, frozen and staring upward at the crumbling wreck of Marinette’s room.

“That’s Marinette’s bedroom!” Tom cried, turning away from the street and disappearing inside the bakery. Marinette could hear him shouting her name from inside the building, voice full of pain and fear. Her mum still stood frozen on the bakery’s step, hands clasped over her mouth, trembling all over. Chat Noir lurked in her personal space, grinning that smug grin she’d come to loathe. He was too close, eyes solely on her, back to Gigantitan and to the terror on her mum’s face. Deaf to her dad’s shouts from inside the house.

Fine. Fine. She’ll finish this, but Chat Noir is not getting away with this act any longer.

The fight took longer than it should, with Marinette constantly having to direct Chat Noir, fight Gigantitan, and keep her shocked mum from rushing into the bakery in search of Marinette, the very same building Gigantitan was bringing down in his search for sweets.

August was finally, finally released from the akuma, Marinette couldn’t really hold it against him, he was a baby, but Hawkmoth had some nerve akumatising a baby after 9pm.

“Hold August,” Marinette said, pressing August gently as she could into Chat’s arms.

“But-” Chat protested, holding August as if he were about to turn into Gigantitan again at a moment’s notice.

“I need to talk to you, wait here.” Chat perked up immediately, ears pricked up and an eager little smile lifting his face. It’d almost be cute, but it was late, she was tired, and this was the umpteenth time Chat had ignored an akuma just to flirt with her.

She threw her yoyo out, dragging herself away to her balcony in the nick of time, detransforming just as she was out of sight. She settled into a ball on the ground, resting her forehead on her knees to watch Tikki quietly eat a biscuit.

“Marinette!” Her dad burst out onto the balcony, desperation on his face and tears in his eyes. “Sweetheart are you okay?” He clambered up, not noticing Tikki as she hid away behind some flowers. The tears in his eyes finally broke Marinette. She let out a broken sob and her dad immediately moved forward, scooping her into his arms with all the delicacy he’s mastered with delicate pastries.

“Are you hurt? Marinette?” Marinette buried her face in her dad’s shirt, clinging to it and wetting it with her tears.

“I’m not hurt.” She sniffled. “I’m not hurt.” 

“Oh Marinette,” her dad whispered. He stroked the top of her head softly. “Shh, shh. It’s okay.”

Metal boots clinked against the metal railing of Marinette’s balcony and she stiffened, waiting for Chat to speak. To notice, to care, to apologise.

“Hi Mr Dupain!” Chat Noir said cheerfully. “Have you seen Ladybug anywhere?”

“Not since she saved my daughter’s life,” Marinette’s dad rumbled.

“Huh?” Chat said. 

“Listen, young man-”

“I’ll handle this, Dad,” Marinette said. She slipped out of his hold, rubbing her eyes. “I’ll be fine.”

Her dad seemed torn, but sighed. “Just call if you need me, Marinette.” He left, but not without turning a fiercely disapproving look on Chat Noir.

Chat Noir tsked and leaned against the balcony railing, holding August in one arm, grinning carelessly back at Marinette. 

“What was that all about? Why are you upset, Princess?”

Marinette ground her teeth, taking a slow, deep breath through her nose. Her face was still sticky from tears.

“Do you even care?” Marinette finally asked.

“About what?” Chat Noir asked, he shifted baby August on his hip and flexed his free arm. “About my awesome muscles?”

“About being a hero!” Marinette shouted, she stamped her foot, finally allowing herself release. “I thought we were friends! My room, was destroyed, I-” she gasped in a breath, tearing up again, “-I died Chat Noir, and all you care about is finding Ladybug to try and get a date!” Marinette was trembling in her rage now, distantly she knew she should try and calm down, she was vulnerable to Hawkmoth in this state, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. Maybe she should just let it happen. Let Chat Noir own up to his duties as a hero for once in his damn life.

“And it’s no wonder Ladybug won’t date you! I was watching you, until...until. You were standing around trying to kiss her like some kind of creep! You didn’t give a damn about anyone else.”

“Hey!” Chat interrupted her, cat ears pinning back. “You don’t get to say that! I work so hard for Ladybug, I deserve Ladybug. We’re meant to be. And if you don’t think that, well, maybe Ladybug shouldn’t have saved you.” 

The harsh crack of skin on skin broke the otherwise quiet night. Marinette’s hand stung. Chat Noir’s cheek was unmarked except for the stunned fish gape he’d now adopted.

“How dare you,” Marinette hissed. “How dare you wear that ring, call yourself a hero. How dare you act like that. Don’t come back. Don’t show your face here, ever again. Leave.”

Chat Noir stood frozen, his fish-gape expression slowly turning mean and sour. “What did you just say?”

“Leave!” Marinette shrieked. Her voice broke and her eyes stung with fresh tears. “Go away!”

“Marinette?” Her dad called from inside. Chat Noir finally moved, hesitantly turning away. Of course. Of course. “Is everything alright?”

Chat Noir leapt away, but not without turning his kicked puppy look on Marinette, as if she was responsible for all the world’s evils. She breathed out hard. 

“I’m fine, Dad.” She looked out to where she’d seen Chat Noir disappear to, taking another meditative breath. She’ll talk to Fu tomorrow. He put the ring in Chat’s hands, he can fix that mistake.

[red-writes]

a/n: I literally thought about this before falling asleep and I had the weirdest fucking dream ever it felt too real now I need to write this so-

cw: body description (of junpei), somno, Junpei is a peeping tom, slight angst, fingering.

Junpei to most people is so weird. He’s unusually skinny for a guy his age. His collar bones protrude unfashionably and peak at you from under his too big t-shirt. His waist is slender and fragile, hip bones poking against the material of his pants. His limbs are so slim, it looks as though he hasn’t but an ounce of muscle on him. He acts weird too. He doesn’t talk to anyone and always sures his hair covers that eye of his. Despite other people finding him weird or awkward, you found him cute. Befriending him was a task all in itself, it was hard to but even harder to maintain a friendship with him due to him always keeping people at arms length. The truth is, you wanted to know him better- get closer to him. What started out as small kindlings of feelings grew and grew into the now roaring fire you held inside your heart. The rare smiles you’d get from him, the way his eyes lit up whenever you complimented him— those small things accumulated overtime until you left with a huge mass of emotions that you had no clue what to do with.

Maybe except one thing.

He looked so surprised, so happy when you told him how you felt, when you handed him that beautifully decorated letter. His face was slowly turning a mean shade of red. What you were expecting to come though didn’t, seeing as he told you he couldn’t accept your feelings. You gave him a sorry half smile that caused a pain within his chest that almost made it hard to breathe. You turned on your heel and walked away, hands clutching the small letter to your chest.

Rejection hurt. Your mother always says “the worst thing that can happen is that they tell you no” but it seemed she was for once, wrong. The friendship you’d worked so hard to build and maintain crumbled in a single second, like a sandcastle hit with ferocious tides. He didn’t speak to you anymore— in fact he avoided you, purposely taking the long routes to class so he didn’t have to see you, eating lunch on top of the roof so he didn’t have to eat with you. Scratch that, rejection didn’t hurt it fucking stung like a bee except this time it was your heart having the allergic reaction.

The whole truth is, Junpei was in love with you. In an instant, if he could, he would drop everything for you to be his. Seeing as he was already yours, unequivocally yours. But he was sick. The first day you’d began talking to him was the start of his sick desires. It began with following you home, footsteps light and unnoticeable. He just wanted to make sure you were safe, that’s all. Then he started peeking into your window while you slept, he did this all night and passed out on the bus ride to school. Eyes drooping and heavy, bags that scream tiredness. But he couldn’t help it, he just wanted to make sure you were okay, nothing more.

Then it evolved into him breaking into your house. With your parents away for work and you all alone, he had to be the one to protect you, you were so innocent, too innocent and trusting of this evil world. He couldn’t find a rationale for stealing your used panties. Nor could he find a rationale for taking them home and sniffing and licking at the crotch part while he stroked his pathetic cock to your entrancing scent. Junpei realized long ago that he was in love with you, couldn’t you see he was just trying to protect you from himself? He too, was apart of the evil world, in fact he embodied it.

He’d come late one night, his mother holding him up at home before he could leave his house to go see you. When he got there and peered into your window, you were masturbating. A flush rose to his face and his cock jerked to life. This would be the first time he’s ever seen this before. He didn’t sneak in this time, instead opting to watch your fingers plunge in and out of your cunt whilst you whined, he snuck a hand down and began palming his already hard cock from over the fabric of his slacks. That’s when he heard it.

“Junpei!”

His name from your mouth. You were masturbating while thinking of him? He immediately pulled his hand away from his cock in fear that the thought alone would make him cum. He waited for you to fall asleep to finally make his entrance. His breathing was heavy and uneven when he stood in your doorway. He swallowed down some his excitement, he didn’t want to wake you. But today, he was at his limit, he couldn’t hold back his longing for you anymore. He stripped and laid his clothes gently on the back of your desk’s chair. He slid in bed with you and at the mere feeling of your bare skin pressing against his he shivered. His cock was already hard, if he’s honest, the smell of your room—the room filled with your scent, was enough to have him stiff as a rod.

He analyzed your features before doing anything. Your face was scrunched up in a look of sorrow with dried tear stains on your cheeks. He hadn’t known his lack of presence in your life made you so sad, it had a throb of pain shoot through his chest. He didn’t care, he deserved it. You were naked, exposed breasts rising and falling in time with your breathing, your thighs were still spread wide open and a hand was resting between them. Silly girl, didn’t you know you were supposed to clean up after doing something like this? He’s so excited he doesn’t know where to start first, his fingers lightly tread over your soft skin, running from your neck, down your arm until they reach the smoothness of your thigh. He wants to savor you, take his time but his cock is already beading pre-cum, it’s amazing what you do to him. He cups one of your breasts in his hand and your lips part slightly and he takes advantage of that by placing his lips over yours and he slides his tongue in your mouth. Even in your sleep you’re so needy for him your hips are subconsciously raising off the bed. How adorable, you’re so cute.

Junpei’s fingers pinch your nipple and tug on it which leaves you whining breathlessly into the soft kiss. Junpei finally pulls away after he thinks he’s going to suffocate from lack of oxygen, it wouldn’t be such a bad death if it’s by your hands but he did want to live a little longer to finish the task at hand. He slides his hand down the expanse of your tummy and gently nudges your hand out of the way until his fingers have complete access to your cunt. Junpei’s cock is grinding against your thigh, he’s so turned on and hasn’t even really done much to you yet. He spreads your cunts lips and uses a finger to gently rub up and down your slit. Your pussy feels so nice, it’s soft and mushy and still wet from your earlier activities. He could die happy now, if you were to wake up and hate him he’d be able to live with it—he finally got to feel your cunt with his own fingers.

His decides he wants to explore everything your body has to offer him, he doesn’t want to waste anything. His fingers stumble upon your clit. He curiously runs the raised bud back a forth a bit and your reactions are so perfect. Soft moans keep falling out of your mouth the more he plays with it. He can feel you becoming more and more wet under his ministrations. He takes a chance and slides a finger inside of your cunt. He sucks in a breath at the feeling of your soft walls clamping down around his eager finger. Junpei’s breathing picks up and he slips in another finger, he slowly begins moving them in and out, mimicking the movements you did earlier. Your cunt feels heavenly around his fingers, your back is arching now, moans becoming louder as he grinds his cock against your soft body. He’s gonna cum soon.

He hasn’t even stuck his own cock inside of you and yet he’s already on the edge. It’s just your cute reactions are bringing him far closer than he’s ever been before. You’re so perfect like this, brows furrowed as you struggle around in your sleep. His fingers thrust upwards in an attempt to thrust them deeper inside of you. He rubs the pads of his fingers against a spongy spot that has your thighs shaking. He’s panting at this point, his hot breathes are hitting directly against your ear. He can feel your cunt spasm around your fingers and when he tries to pull them out you’re sucking them right back in. Oh god, you came didn’t you? He can’t help the way his hips stutter, his cock twitches as he shoots his cum over your lower half.

He withdraws his fingers from your cunt and he opens his mouth and sucks them clean. He sits up and begins climbing out of your bed. He feels so bad. The guilt is washing over him in waves, he knows he’s sick but that’s why he can’t be with you. His mind can’t help but flash back to the sad look on your face from before. It makes his heart hurt again and begins to get dressed. You sit up, voice still laced with sleep, “leaving already?”

Junpei’s body stiffens once he hears the sound of your voice.

“Junpei I..”

He merely shakes his head and hurries out of your room as quickly as possible, you try and follow him out but your legs feel so heavy you can hardly walk properly. You’re stumbling out of the room and into the doorway.

“Please! Wait- Junpei!” You call out but he’s already gone, leaving nothing but disappointment in his wake. You can feel the hotness of tears well up behind your eyes as you slump down against the wall, with your knees pulled up to your chest you can do nothing more but cry.

[waitimcomingtoo]

Chemistry on the Couch

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

submitted by @elevenspeter

Masterlist

“You have a celebrity crush, don’t you Tom?” Graham instigated as he leaned forward curiously on his knee. Tom didn’t have to think twice to know who he was referring to. There was only one girl that had been living rent free in Toms mind since he was a child, and that was you.

“I do. Ever since I was little, I had the biggest crush on Y/n L/n, the actress.” Tom began with a shy smile. “And I mean the biggest crush. To the point where my parents had her movies playing on the TV all day long to keep me from crying. To this day, I could recite all her lines because I have seen it so many times.”

“That’s so cute.” Emily Blunt, another guest on the couch, gushed. “I bet she’d be happy to hear you fancied her.”

“And whats this I hear about kissing the TV?” Graham giggled to himself.

“I-“ ,Tom cut himself off to laugh in embarrassment as the rest of the audience laughed, “I was convinced she was my girlfriend so I would kiss the TV whenever she was on the screen.” He shrugged in his defense as the audience erupted into laughter. “It drove my dad mad because I got saliva all over the television but my mum thought it was sweet.”

“Aw.” Graham pouted. “So you were a big fan?”

“I was obsessed with that girl from the time I was five until I was about 31.” Tom confirmed.

“How old are you now?” Emily wondered.

“24.” Tom stated, eliciting a laugh from the audience.

“How adorable.” Graham looked out at the crowd with a deviant smile. “And that’s exactly what we told her when we asked her to be on the show tonight. Y/n, come on out.”

Tom’s heart stopped momentarily as Graham looked behind him and waved. His eyes slowly went up as the sound of high heels on tile sounded over the roar of the crowd.

“Oh no.” Tom gulped. Strapped into those high heels were mile long legs wrapped in a tight black dress, all topped off with your perfect face. Tom had spent years loving you through a screen, and now you were walking towards him.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, Y/n L/n!” Graham announced as you came out from backstage with a cheery smile. The audience became deafening as you walked towards the couch but Tom couldn’t hear a thing. His heart had yet to kickstart as he watched you with wide eyes.

“Hi!” You waved warmly to the crowd before hugging Graham hello. Tom looked down in disbelief as you made your way through the guests, hugging each one and greeting them hello. His heart pounded in his ears as you got closer and before he knew it, his life long crush was standing in front of him.

“Hi, Tom. I’m Y/n.” You smiled brightly as you opened your arms to him. Tom nearly jumped out of his seat and gulped as your eyes met his. It might’ve been the lights, but he could’ve sworn your eyes sparkled like they were coated in glitter.

“Yeah.” Tom sputtered, forgetting every word in the English language. The audience laughed at Toms stiffness, but you didn’t. You held his gaze and gave him an assuring smile, silently telling him to relax.

“It’s nice to meet you.” You continued, your arms still open to him. Tom snapped out of his daze and stepped into your arms, resting his head on your shoulder with a child like smile. He was convinced he was dreaming until your lightly curled hair was tickling his face as you embraced, telling him that this was really happening.

“It’s nice to meet you too, darling.” He mumbled happily in your ear. You pulled away but kept your hands on his shoulders, smiling brightly at him when you noticed how red his cheeks were.

“I like your accent.” You told him, keeping one hand on his shoulder as the both of you sat down. All that space on the couch and you chose the spot next to him, something that sent a flurry of butterflies into Toms tummy.

“I like yours too.” He said with a soft smile, never taking his eyes off you. He spent so many years watching you on his television screen, watching you grow up and mature, but nothing could prepare him for the beauty in front of him now. He was enchanted by you, everything about you, and it was making it hard to focus on anything else. He was in a bright room full of people with multiple cameras on him, but all he could see was you.

“Thank you.” You giggled. “You’re Spiderman, right?”

“Yeah, I am.” Tom nodded, mouth drying out. “You know about me?”

“Of course I do. Who doesn’t know about the cutest Spider-Man to date?” You nudged him slightly, his eyes staying glued to your arm as you touched him.

“Did everyone else hear that?” He looked out at the audience with doe eyes.

“We heard it.” Graham nodded with a laugh.

“Just making sure.” Tom beamed, still reeling from your compliment. You were the most heavenly creature to walk the planet in Toms opinion, and you thought he was cute. Just about every dream he had ever had was coming true all at once, and he was loving every second.

“Now Tom, we have a picture that your mother sent in. Look how cute.” Graham gushed as he turned to his monitor. A picture of a young Tom appeared and the audience, as well as all the guests on the couch, fawned over it. In the picture, he was kissing the TV that was paused on a scene from one of your movies. You laughed in delight and absentmindedly squeezed Tom’s hand.

“Aw. We already had our first kiss and I didn’t even know it.” You teased him, scooting a little closer to him on the couch. You hadn’t let go of his hand yet, but he wasn’t complaining.

“I am so sorry.” Tom shook his head in embarrassment and pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand.

“Don’t be. As long as I know about the next one, I’ll be fine.” You shrugged, looking at him through your eyelashes. Tom gulped at the thought of a next kiss, especially if you were the one suggesting it. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think you were flirting with him.

“Now, you two have actually met before.” Graham said as he pointed between the two of you. You looked at Tom in confusion, letting go of his hand to brush a stay curl off your face.

“Have we?” You asked him. He nodded, trying not to let the disappointment of you letting go of his hand show on his face.

“Yeah. We met many years ago at the Secret Life of Arietty premier because you were in the American version and I was in the British version.”

“Oh My God!” Your eyes widened. “Wait, I do remember you! You were so sweet.”

“Was I? I wouldn’t know, I blacked out.” Tom joked, making you laugh cheerfully.

“Tom’s mother graced us with a home video. Now, this was taken after the premier right?” Graham asked as he turned his attention back to the monitor behind him.

“Oh, God.” Tom sighed, knowing exactly what was coming. “This was after the premier when I could not stop bouncing off the walls because I met you. I think my parents recorded it specifically to embarrass me in front of Y/n one day.”

“Lets take a look, shall we?” Graham asked the audience as the home video began to play.

“Who did you meet?” You heard Tom’s mother’s voice from behind the camera. On the screen was a grainy video of teenage Tom, clad in a shiny suit and wide grin. His face was splashed with freckles and acne, he had a mole on his chin, and his teeth hadn’t quite straightened out yet, but you thought he was the cutest thing imaginable.

“I met Y/n!” He gushed, taking a deep breath as if he still didn’t believe it. He was pacing around his kitchen, slightly loosening his neck tie as he went.

“Yay!” He mom cheered. “Where did you meet her?”

“We were at the Secret Life of Arietty premier and she came up to me and she hugged me and we took a picture and she was so pretty.” He rambled, all his words coming out in one breath. You laughed loudly at the video, resting your hand on Tom’s knee as you continued to watch.

“What did she say to you?” His mom asked from behind the camera.

“She said she likes my accent!” He practically screamed as he tugged on his tie. “She said she likes my accent when hers is so pretty. She’s so pretty.”

“Yay! Tommy’s so excited. He just met his dream girl.” His mom chuckled.

“Mum, did you see me? Did you see her hug me?” Tom asked as he bounced up and down. “She smelled so good. Like Christmas.”

The video faded to black and the monitor turned off, the audience clapping as it concluded.

“That was so cute! Tom, I’m gonna die.” You pouted, turning to him and squeezing his knee.

“Please don’t die. We’re just getting to know each other.” Tom laughed, putting his hand over yours and squeezing it. He was never normally this bold, especially not with girls he fancied since childhood, but something about you gave him a confidence he didn’t hate.

“That was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. You were so excited.” You gushed, your own flock of butterflies erupting in your tummy.

“I’m having the exact same reaction right now, just internally.” He gestured to himself, making you laugh.

“Really?” You asked, liking his attention more than you thought you would.

“Obviously.” He laughed. “I had the biggest crush on you growing up.”

“I think I have a crush on you now.” You half joked, half meant entirely.

“Oooo, looks like we have a love connection on the couch tonight.” Graham wiggled his eyebrows. “So Y/n, Tom’s seen all your movies. Have you seen his?”

“No, I haven’t.” You shook your head and looked at Tom.

“I have copies back in my hotel room if you want to see them.” He said innocently, not wanting the interaction to end after the show was done.

“How bold of you, Tom.” Graham snorted, making the audience murmur with excitement.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” Tom said quickly, not wanting to offend you. His cheeks were bright red as the crowd misinterpreted his statement. You felt bad for him and shut him up before he could apologize further.

“I know you didn’t.” You patted his arm. “Can we watch them after the show? I’d love to see you in action.”

“You want to?” He asked in surprise, face heating up once again.

“Yeah, I do.” You nodded. “I want to see your work.”

“You hear that Tom? She wants to see you in action.” Graham said wickedly, also trying to start trouble.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” You rolled your eyes. “You’re a host, not a match maker.”

“Why can’t the man be both?” Tom shrugged, not particularly mad at the flirting that was going on.

“Careful there, Spiderman.” You warned. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.”

“Who says I can’t finish?” Tom shot back, feeling confident enough to test his luck with you.

“I’ll guess we’ll find out tonight, won’t we?” You gave him a once over as you leaned back on the couch.

“Tonight?” He furrowed his eyebrows, not knowing what you meant.

“In your hotel room.” You said simply. “I meant what I said. I wanna see you in action.”

“Okay.” Tom swallowed thickly, trying not to show how nervous he was. “I’ll show you my movies.”

“Awesome.” You smiled brightly at him. “It’s a date.”

~

“This is my room.” Tom said unenthusiastically as he turned on the lights in his hotel room. “If you see boxers on the floor, they’re not mine.”

“Then who’s are they?” You snorted. “Are you and Jake Gyllenhaal filming Broke Back Mountain 2 without telling anyone?”

“No, no. They’re mine.” Tom quickly corrected. “And don’t bring up Broke Back Mountain around me. I had no idea what it was about before I watched it and I still can’t look at fishing rods without blushing.”

“You’re too cute.” You laughed at him as you slid out of your high heels.

“Thanks.” Tom smiled sheepishly. “I’m gonna get the movie ready.”

“I’ll be right there. I just have to get out of this dress.” You called from the bathroom. “Are you okay with me wearing the hotel robe? I promise I won’t get any makeup on it. Not on the outside, at least.”

“Here. This might be more comfortable.” Tom appeared in the doorway with a hoodie and a pair a sweatpants.

“Thanks.” You smiled warmly at him as you took the clothes. “I won’t get makeup on this either.”

“I’m sure I wouldn’t mind if you did.” He shrugged it off. “It’d be a nice little reminder of you.”

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and let your eyes wander around Toms face, appreciating every line and freckle. He was awfully sweet, and you found that awfully compelling.

“Do you have any face wash?” You asked him, snapping out of your trance before you got pulled in too deep.

“I have soap.” He offered, pointing to a bottle of Dove on the counter.

“You’re such a boy.” You laughed and ran your fingers through your curls. “I’ll just leave this on then.”

“That’s not so bad. Your makeup looks really nice.” He said quietly as he kept his eyes low.

“Thanks. I’ll let my makeup artist know you like it.” You smirked at him as you walked towards the mirror, beginning to gather your hair in a ponytail.

“I’m not so sure it’s the makeup that I like.” He shrugged as he leaned against the doorframe. “It’s what’s underneath.”

“You think I’m pretty?” You asked a little insecurely, looking at him in the mirror as loose curls fell out of your ponytail to frame your face.

“I’ve thought you were pretty since I learned to spell “pretty.”” Tom chuckled, scratched the back of his neck as he shyly watched you.

“Aren’t you dyslexic? I’m sure it wasn’t that long ago.” You teased him endearingly.

“Hey.” He whined playfully. “How did you know I was dyslexic?”

“I might have googled you.” You shrugged, avoiding eye contact as you applied some chapstick in the mirror.

“Did you now?” He asked, taking an even deeper interest in the conversation.

“I googled all the guests that were gonna be on the show.” You shrugged as a light blush painted your cheeks.

“Oh.” Tom nodded, looking away disheartened.

“Don’t sound too disappointed.” You laughed. “Your dyslexia didn’t show up on the first page of google. I did some digging on you.”

“Oh.” He said again in a completely different tone. This time, he was intrigued. You walked away from the mirror and met Tom in the doorway, leaning your arms against the frame as you smiled at him.

“I’m gonna get changed now.” You told him. “Save me a seat.”

“Okay.” He bit his tongue excitedly, giving you a once over before turned to walk to the bed.

“Wait, Tom?” You called putting for him once he was out of sight.

“Yeah?” He came back with concerned eyes. You smirked slightly as him before turning around and touching the back of your neck.

“Unzip me?” You asked, innocently batting your eyelashes at him. Toms chest tightened, feeling a shortness of breath before nodding his head. The way you were looking at him made him forget how to complete an action as simple as raising his hand, but a simple tug of your lips into a smile restored his confidence. He cleared his throat and snapped out of his trance, smiling shyly at you as he nodded.

“Sure.” He mumbled, hesitantly reaching up and grabbing your zipper. He slowly dragged it down your back, a blush painting his cheeks when the lacy black band of your bra was revealed. He pulled the zipper to the end, stopping at the bottom of your spine.

“Thanks.” You turned around slowly and shot him a wink.

“Anytime.” He answered, hoping his face wasn’t as red as it felt. He touched a cool hand to his cheek, trying to draw away some of the heat.

“I might have to take you up on that.” You shrugged a shoulder, knowing full well what you were doing. Tom caught the double meaning of your statement and felt his face redden from the bridge of his nose all the way to the tips of his ears. You smiled slyly at him before closing the door so you could change.

Tom put the disc in the DVD player and got settled on bed, awkwardly shifting the sheets as he waited for you to join him. It didn’t take long before he heard the bathroom door opening, doing a double take when he noticed you hadn’t bothered with the sweatpants he gave you. His eyes were glued to your bare legs that peeked out from the bottom of his hoodie as you made your way towards the bed.

“Nice stems.” Tom quoted a favorite movie of his as you sat on the bed next to him.

“I thought it might be a little too hot for sweatpants.” You said without looking at him, ostentatiously crossing your legs just to give Tom another look.

“I see.” He gulped, sneaking glances at you every now and then as the movie started.

A few silent moments went by as you paid attention to the movie, not taking particular attention to the parts when Tom wasn’t on screen. His heart beat loudly in his ears as that scene in the alleyway came on, keeping a close eye on your reaction. He heard you suck in your breath when the suit slid off, feeling a twinge of pride as an impressed look crossed your face. You scooted a little closer to Tom, running nervous fingers through your curled hair.

“Well damn.” You laughed shyly. “I’ve never seen someone look as good out of a suit as they look in it.”

“Was that a compliment?” Tom looked at you cheekily. “Are you complimenting me, darling?”

“Would you be mad if I was?” You asked softly. The corners of Toms mouth tugged into a smile as he scooted closer as well.

“Not at all.” He shook his head, the movie long gone from his mind. You took this as an opportunity to move even closer to Tom, your hips touching each other now as your bare legs tangled with his clothed ones. You twisted a little in place, leaning into his side as you rested your chin on his shoulder.

“Is this okay?” You whispered, rubbing his arm gently as you looked up at him.

“Darling, this is just fine.” He answered, resting a hand on your knee and rubbing it gently with his thumb.

“Good.” You smirked, cuddling into his side and resting your head in the crook of his neck. Tom kept his eyes on you, feeling like he was gonna wake up any moment from what surely was a dream. Your attention snapped to him, making him jump a little as you made eye contact.

“Stop staring.” You scolded playfully. “I’m trying to pay attention.”

“Sorry. Sorry.” Tom chuckled, moving his arm so he could wrap it around you and hold you closer. You stayed like that for the rest of the movie, just enjoying the embrace of a stranger who really wasn’t that strange at all.

~

“What did you think? Did you like it?” Tom asked as he walked you to the elevator once the film had ended. You had your arm linked in his, wearing his sweatpants now as your evening together was coming to an end. He walked slowly, trying to draw out his time with you.

“I didn’t watch it.” You chuckled as you answered honestly. “Any of it.”

“Then what have you been doing the last two hours?” He wondered.

“Looking at you.” You smiled shyly. “Only when you weren’t looking, of course.”

“That’s funny.” Tom mumbled as he brushed a curl off your face. “Because all the times you weren’t looking at me, I was looking at you.”

You reached the elevator and felt a sadness in your heart, knowing this was the end of an enchanting evening.

“I promise I’ll watch your movie when I get home.” You told him as you waited for the elevator to come. “And all your other movies. I might stalk you on Instagram too. Do you have Twitter?”

“I do.” He nodded. “If you follow me, I might react the same way I did in that home video you saw. Maybe even worse.”

“I wish I could see that. I bet it’s even cuter now than it was back then.” You smiled, trying to prolong the conversation as much as you could. The elevator dinged, signaling that it was there, but you didn’t budge. You just pressed your back against the wall next to it and looked at Tom as you spoke.

“I bet it’s just as lame though.” He shrugged, playing with one of the ties on the hoodie.

“I think it’s sweet.” You said softly, putting your hand over his. “I think you’re sweet.”

A radiant smile lit up Toms face as he looked down, feeling fireworks in his chest going off with your words. He placed his hands on the wall on either side of your head, leaning forward and fitting his face into the crook of your neck to conceal his blush. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug and letting it linger to say goodbye.

“I’m, uh, I’m gonna need your number so we can arrange a time for me to get this hoodie back to you.” You said as you pulled apart, keeping on hand on his shoulder as he hovered over you.

“You see, I’m torn darling.” Tom shook his head. “I want you to keep the hoodie but I also want to see you again.”

You bit your bottom lip and held out your hand, gesturing that you wanted him to hand you something.

“Give me your phone.”

“Okay.” Tom agreed as he pulled it out of his pocket, not even questioning why you needed it. You took his phone from him, smiling at the picture of him and his friends that he used as his background.

“I put my number in.” You told him as you handed it back. “Use it.”

“I will. I promise you I will. I just have to gawk at it for a few hours first until every thing that happened tonight really sinks it.” He joked, making you laugh loudly as the elevator dinged again, rushing you were you just weren’t ready yet.

“Are you gonna come down with me?” You nodded towards the elevator, wanting every second with him you could get.

“After you.” Tom held the door open so you could step inside, going in shortly after you.

“I had a really good time tonight.” You said once the doors closed. “I said that already but, you know, I mean it.”

“So did I.” Tom nodded, sneaking glances at you as the floors climbed down, going much faster than he liked. “A really, really good time.”

“Thanks for letting me come over.”

“Thanks for existing or whatever.” Tom mumbled as he scratched behind his ear and averted his eyes. You giggled happily, giving him one last look as you reached the lobby. The elevator doors opened, but you didn’t get out. You hit the button that closed the doors and turned to Tom, ignoring the confused look on his face as you rested your hands on his chest.

“You know, since you’ve so kindly gifted me your hoodie, it’s only fair I leave you with something.” You suggested with a sultry smile.

“Trust me, darling. The memories are enough for me.” He said as he shyly rested his hands on your hips. You moved your hands further up his chest, letting them rest on his shoulders as you pressed up against him.

“Then let’s make one more.” You whispered, looking between his eyes and his mouth before connecting his lips to yours.

Tag List 🏷

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[myfeetkeepdancing]

A/N: I’m so soft for these gifs! Had to write something 🥰

Even though you were seated far apart from each other, you could feel it hanging in the air. It was only you and him. Usually, a press tour had more cast members. But Tom managed. With his charm and kindness, he persuaded the producers and Sony to let the two of you travel. A set of rules and boundaries was put on paper. Every press tour had them. They were talked through and discussed. A table full of executives and managers. Laying down the terms and conditions. What the consequences were if… You and Tom had no interest whatsoever. Had no ear for them. There was more to this trip.

Tom had mentioned it beforehand. Every step of the way. And it sure didn’t need reminding. On your way in the private jet. In the secret hotel room. Behind the stage. In the shower. You knew…

And of all the days you’d been traveling together. Promoting the next movie. This could be the day. Tom had teased you long. And you remembered the jokes vividly. Warning you as laid together in the velvet sheets. Naked and spend, combing through his brown curls. His broad and heavy chest pressed against yours. His finger trailing along with your figure. Exchanging glances followed by kisses. This was so much more fun. 

The way you sneaked into each other’s rooms. Send weird gifts. Stealing each other’s clothes. Taunting each other with almost posting a heated picture on Instagram.  The thrill of finding a moment to kiss his lips without others looking. It became a sport on its own. 

Now he sat there. On the verge of spilling it. His posture, the way he held himself. Wiggling impatiently on the edge of his chair. The white of his knuckles showing as his hands tightened around the microphone. While the flashes of the camera’s just continued unimpeded. Tom scrunched a small smile towards the crowd, before shooting you another glance. The exchange was wordless but nonetheless said enough. Every sense and nerve in your system was going in complete overdrive. His energy. His excitement. His smile. It’s all so infectious. With those dark brown eyes, he pierced your very soul, like all those evenings before.

You quickly avert your eyes to the translator sitting in between you two. Taking her time as she digests the information on her card. Beginning to formulate her question. You can feel the heat rising in your system. Tom’s gaze pierces you through and through. He knew full well what he did, and how to play you. You try to suppress your nerves and refrain yourself from smiling and further. And train your eyes and ears on the woman beside you. 

“You are man who takes a lot of pictures. Yes? But not all on Instagram?” She said in broken English but with genuine interest.

“That’s right, I’ve taken so many pictures. My phone is filled with them, from the first day at set to the last. It’s a great and memorable experience. Something you want to record for the future. And yes, sometimes I post a few on my Instagram. But I also want to keep a certain level of privacy.” You nod and smile. “They hold a lot of good memories. Good times.” Your eyes automatically move to Tom. “You as well, Tom?” You ask with a small grin, nothing of meaning. You can’t suppress the joy. There’s no helping it. Sucking on his lower lip, leaning into the armrest as his smile widened. The microphone slipping to one hand. His buttoned white shirt stretching as his muscles began showing through. 

“Absolutely.” He smirked. “I also share most of them on my Instagram. Share my crazy experience with my fans. It’s good fun. I’ve also seen (Y/N) picture gallery, and I know, (Y/N) can’t share most of them…”

“Well… I eh…” The taunt of itself wasn’t that difficult to reply to. But you couldn’t help the joyous smile spreading across your face. All as a result of Tom’s twinkling eyes. Releasing a small chuckle as you avert your gaze. Feeling the heat spread upwards from your spine and into your neck. The inevitable blush spreading across your cheeks. Causing quite the stir in the audience. 

“Haha, mister blush-blush.” The Chinese translater laughed as she motioned her hand on her cheek. “Very blushy.” Shooting you and Tom smiles back and forth. “So why you not share pictures? For example, trailer? We have not seen much of trailer? You have pictures?”

 “Yeah…I have.” You scrape your voice. Mentally kicking yourself back into it. “Yes I do. But I won’t share those. Those are private. As Tom mentioned.” Staring him down as you receive that cute stare back. 

“Oh! What happened?” She laughed, looking back and forth. Turning in her seat towards you.

“You know, some memories are treasured up here.” Tapping against your head. “Rather than captured by a picture.”

“Can you tell us more? Was it nice trailer?” 

“No, and yes. I… can’t tell you more.” You chuckled, your thoughts clouded by the memories from that time. A time where you and Tom had spend most of your free time together. Clicked together. Found each other. For far more than colleagues on set. Making you think a second time before speaking. “I had a wonderful trailer in-”

“-in which we made out.” Tom boastfully exclaimed, completely overshadowing your voice. Sucking in a few nervous breaths, licking his lips.  And seating himself upright. Awaiting the reaction. “For the first time.” He beamed from ear to ear. “It’s true.” Proud as ever before. “That’s where we made out.” Turning towards you. Your eyes connect, and you feel it’s okay. The moment was there. And it felt good. It’s alright. It was time.

And you smile from pure happiness. Nodding in agreement as the rest of the crowd goes absolutely wild. The camera flashes blind you for a full minute. As inaudible chatter and cries overshadow the both of you. “You started it.” You joke as the cheers and scream began to die down after a while.

“Not true, darling…” He said in his own microphone, voice shaking, before rising from his chair. Making his way over to you.”-you began the kissing that night.” His eyes sparkled as the tears welled in his eyes. Sucking on his lips as he tried to hold back the tears of joy. Pacing towards you.

“After you spilled that beer into my lap…” You shot back as your cheeks glowed. 

“I am... that clumsy…” He confessed wholeheartedly while taking your cheeks into his hands, slowly sinking into your lap. “Especially when you’re around.” You embrace the moment as the crowd goes absolute bananas behind you. Enclosing your arms around his waist and pulling him into your seat. “But that was also the only way… to get you out of your clothes.” He said in the microphone you held between your lips. Resting his forehead against yours. 

“Let’s not go into detail…” And lower the microphone out of reach of the rest to hear. His lips hovering closer and closer. Just like that night. “They can’t handle that filth.” Brushing away the small tear rolling from his eye. 

“I can’t wait to go home. “He smiled brightly, blinking away the tears. “I love you.” 

“I love you, Tom.” And cup his cheeks in your hands. “Let’s show the world.” And meet his lips onto yours. The kiss makes everything official. 

[farfromharry]

omg omg bc of the new cherry photos 🍒can you write something where the reader is a little bit jealous bc of ciara and Tom is like super cute and tells her she doesn’t need to be jealous

summary: you get jealous after some new stills from cherry are released, but tom’s there to reassure you how much he loves you

tom holland x reader

w/c 0.5k

- clearing out my inbox -

you heard tom before you saw him. the excited mumbles of words to himself, as well as his heavy footsteps racing to your bedroom.

you were already grinning at his childlike behaviour, putting down your book to prepare for when he came in.

he pushed open the door seconds later, spotting you sitting on the bed.

“look, the new stills just dropped,” his smile was wide and proud, showing you the series of pictures that were loaded up on his phone. your heart dropped a little seeing the ones of tom and ciara’s characters together, but you pulled it back and forced a smile on your face.

“i’m so proud of you,” you mumbled, pecking his lips. he was still smiling when you pulled away, searching your eyes.

“really?” he asked, noting that one slither of uncertainty that he was able to pinpoint. he knew when you were happy, he’d seen it too many times, studied your facial expressions for too long to not know when something was off.

“really,” you confirmed. tom’s smile faltered a little, and that was something you noticed. the two of you stayed like that for a minute or two, tom keeping his gaze on you while you nervously looked around the room.

“what’s wrong?” he asked, tucking a stray piece of hair from your ponytail behind your ear. you feigned innocence, cocking your head like you didn’t know what he was talking about. “y/n, i know you, something’s up.”

you were happy for tom, you truly were, but there was just the one thought of him and ciara that you just couldn’t let go.

“i just- i’m jealous, okay?” the words came out fast, as if you couldn’t even bare to say them out loud.

“you’re jealous?” he asked, checking he’d heard correctly. you nodded your head. “of what?”

you sighed, running your hands over your face before burying your head in your boyfriends neck.

“it’s stupid,” you murmured, the sound coming out muffled by his warm skin. tom pouted, his large hand coming up to rest on the back of your head, gently stroking your hair.

“if it’s bothering you, it’s not stupid,” he promised, placing a soft kiss on top of your hair. you let out a long sigh, your warm breath tickling tom’s skin.

“seeing you and ciara, it just,” you trailed off, feeling tom’s chest vibrate underneath you as he laughed. you pulled back from him with a frown, prepared to scold him for laughing at you while you were trying to be vulnerable.

“stop laughing,” you whined. he let his laughter die down before he pulled you back into his chest, placing kisses all along the side of your face.

“you have absolutely nothing to be jealous of,” he said. “I love you so, so much, me and ciara were just acting.” he felt your body relax, his hand shifting to stroke your clothed back.

“d’you wanna know a secret?” he asked. you nodded your head against his chest, squeezing him tighter. “i was thinking about you while filming those scenes.”

you couldn’t help the smile that graced your face, feeling your heartbeat quicken at his cute confession.

“really?” you whispered.

“of course, the only girl for me.”

tom holland taglist - @seutarose @lmaotshollandd @photoshopart15 @hopelessly-harry @bvttercupbby @call-me-baby-gir1 @fallinfortom @geminiparkers @siriuslyslyslytherin @musicalkeys @itstaskeen @icyhollands @tpwk-grande @zspideyy @chrisosterfield @givebuckyhisplumsnow @lowkey-holland @hollandcrush @wizkiddx @sannie-san-shine @sonnydoesrandomshit @hopeless-romantic-baby @dummiesshort @itsbieberxholland @lillucyandthejets @piscesparker @mymilliefrommarketing

[andyet-here-we-are]

I Would Get Into Millions of Accidents Just to See You, Chapter 3 (aka Nurse Geralt AU)

(Check the pinned post for the first two chapters please~)

The next day flows by in a blur for Geralt. He wakes up, takes a shower, prepares a quick but nutritious breakfast for Ciri, and makes oatmeal for himself.

On his way to the hospital, he thinks about Jaskier and wonders if he should call him now. He almost does that, but then he decides against it because he knows that Jaskier is busy having his fourth dream right now probably. It's too early to call him as much as he wants to do so. 

His mind wanders on how cute Jaskier sounds when he is sleepy—when he has just woken up.

Cute, but also usually a bit grumpy even though he denies it with every inch of his being.

***

"That shouldn't be legal," is what Geralt thinks when he steps into the hospital room, unable to take his eyes off Jaskier's sleeping figure. "I can't believe I'm supposed to do that. God, have some mercy on me. I love my job, I really do, but it sucks big time sometimes. Why should I suffer this way?"

A moment later, he is well aware of how dramatic he is being, and how hard he frowns, making a source face. It's not like him to act like this at all.

Damn.

"That dramatic son of a flower must be rubbing off on me," annoyed at himself, he mumbles before he coughs as if that alone is enough to wake the musician up. 

"Good morning," he tries when Jaskier doesn't wake up and slightly turns to the other side of his bed instead.

"Mr. Pankratz, it's your medicine time."

Jaskier slightly opens his eyes just to look at him this time, and the first thing he mumbles is: "What happened to your ears?" before closing his eyes again. 

"What are you talking about?" The nurse questions, checking his ears with his free hand that isn't holding the medicine tray, wondering what he meant by that.

"Are you still asleep?"

"Yes... No. Maybe?" Jaskier mumbles again, half asleep as he rubs his eyes, trying to make sleepiness go away.

"You will have to pick one of them."

The musician opens his eyes after a while and smiles at Geralt.

"Morning. God, what a sight to wake up to."

Geralt must be used at this by now. Because whenever Geralt has to wake him up, no matter how much Jaskier complains at first most of the time, he always utters the same words eventually.

"What a sight to wake up to."

Yet, every time he does that, Geralt's heart flutters in his chest.

"You didn't sound too happy with my ears, though. What was that about?"

"Ah, about that. I had a dream that— promise you won't laugh?"

"Can't do."

"Anyway," Jaskier yawns and explains: "I had a dream that you were an... elf."

"I was a— what?" Geralt laughs.

"Hey! You said you wouldn't laugh!" The musician stares at him like he is ready to kill him. 

"I never said that," Geralt forces himself to stop laughing. "Well, that explains everything."

"Shh, stop interrupting me. It's mean."

"Sorry, I'm all ears. Not elf ears, though, sorry to disappoint you."

"Don't sweat it. Bad guys were trying to steal Mrs. Ansley's—who was a fairy, speaking of which—cookie recipe, which was also the key of a parallel universe, somehow. You were trying to protect the recipe, then puff. Some gingerbread men came out of nowhere to help you, but you tried to... eat them? Well, not just tried actually. You managed to eat their leader. Therefore they decided to join the dark side. Can't blame you, though. They looked pretty yummy. I was about to hop on my unicorn for help when you woke me up. A unicorn wearing a pasta costume. Pink pasta costume. Yeah, yeah, I know, that makes no sense, is there even a pink pasta costume?" He asks sleepily, raising an eyebrow. "Also, I had a magical lute, I think."

"You think that your whole dream makes sense, but just the pink pasta costume doesn't?"

"I've never seen a pink pasta costume, so..."

"Oh, sorry, right. I forgot you have seen everything else but that. The elf version of me, alive gingerbreads and all. My bad."

He chuckles at that lightly.

"Still more possible than a pink pasta costume."

"The most ridiculous dream you had this week might be this one so far."

Jaskier seemed to have taken it upon himself to tell Geralt about his dreams. This was the eighth dream he talked about this week, and it wasn't even Friday yet.

"It was like," he opens his arms wide as if he is presenting the name of his new song to the whole world, " 'Geralt and Jaskier in Wonderland' I blame the medicines. And you," he points at the nurse. "I also blame you. For looking like... " he then gestures at everything, "this."

"You blame me?" The other man snorts, amused. "If anything, you should blame yourself for having the wrong dream. Have you ever looked at yourself? You would make a good elf, not me. You are as bea— I mean, anyway, medicine time."

"I am what now? Wait, wait, wait, were you about to call me beautiful?"

"I was about to call you bearable, but then I thought that would be mean."

"I think you were about to call me beautiful, but then you thought 'That wouldn't be professional, you are his nurse,' or something along these lines. Also, that's not even how you start when you're about to say 'bearable' they are not even pronounced the— "

"That's not what happened."

"Nahh, I'm pretty sure that's exactly what happened, but eh, whatever helps you sleep at night, love."

"You're probably thinking you're still in 'Geralt and Jaskier in Wonderland', go back to sleep, you're delusional."

"I am so not! And that would be your problem even if I was. Wanna check my fever?" He says, giving the nurse a once-over, "I feel hot, suddenly."

"Well, that explains why you're delusional, doesn't it?" Geralt teases. "Take your medicine and you will be just fine."

Jaskier sighs and does as he is told.

"Geralt," Jaskier says before Geralt is about to leave, a grin on his face "I think you are 'bearable', too. "

***

Geralt means to call Jaskier.

He really does.

Yet, whenever he is about to call him, something comes up, and eventually, he just accepts that he is going to have to wait for his shift to be over. 

For some reason, he doesn't want to call him and get interrupted after a minute.

And he doesn't want to send him a text, because he prefers hearing his angelic voice instead.

So, yeah. He is kind of stuck there for now.

***

Geralt finds Ciri laughing at her own joke as she watches The Office when he gets home, and this reminds him of Jaskier since that's something they both have in common. Once again, he finds himself thinking about the musician.

***

“Shit, it hurts,” Jaskier says, holding his chest.

“Maybe it’s the universe’s way to tell you to stop laughing at your own jokes.”

“Oh shut up, the universe can kiss my ass.”

“Seems like it prefers to kick your ass instead.”

That draws an annoyed laugh out of him, which makes him hiss in pain.

“It wouldn’t send me here if it was trying to kick my ass, Mr. Should Have Been A Model But Became A Nurse For Some Reason.”

“I can't believe you still keep using that silly nickname unironically. Don’t you think that it is a bit long?”

“You may be right. Hmm, I’ll just call you ‘Mr. Handsome Nurse,’ from now on.”

“Please don’t. No.”

“How about just ‘Handsome’ ?”

“Still no.”

“Why not? It’s just a fact. You wouldn’t get mad at someone if they would point at a yellow wall and call it a ‘yellow wall’ would you?”

“That’s not the same thing.”

“I see no differences.”

“Then you better get your eyes checked.” 

“Speaking of which—” Jaskier reaches for his scratch book standing on the bedside table “can I borrow your eyes for a second?”

Geralt frowns, wondering what the musician is up to this time.

Jaskier opens his scratch book and stares in his eyes intently for a while and as he scribbles something. "Thanks," he says, "I just needed an accurate model of the stars."

"You know," the nurse shakes his head and answers smoothly: "you could just ask for a mirror."

Geralt can't help but smirk at his open-mouthed speechlessness. 

***

He hears a familiar voice singing, and for a moment he is sure that he has finally gone insane. 

Drying his hands on a washcloth, Geralt makes his way to the source of the voice, thinking "That must how Jerry feels when he follows the smell of a piece of cheese Tom tries to fool him with."

Jaskier's voice is irresistible to him, just like how cheese is irresistible to Jerry.

Absolutely irresistible, and hard to miss.

He could distinguish Jaskier's voice among all the rest if he heard it in a room filled with millions of men singing a song together.

This voice is coming from their living room. To be more specific, from Ciri's laptop—which she was supposed to use for searching her homework topic, but that can wait for now—

"Or I shall die," he hears Jaskier singing oh so sincerely and dramatically "or I shall die!"

"Dad! Please don't be mad, I swear to God I was going to start doing my homework, but—"

The first thing he does when he sits on the couch next to his daughter is grabbing the laptop and rewinding the video to the start. He then checks if the volume is at maximum.

"Shhh," he gestures, all of his attention is on the video he is watching.

He doesn't even realize that he takes a deep breath as soon as he sees the musician's face appear in front of him on the screen before Jaskier even starts singing.

He is as beautiful as ever in his ridiculous mint green shirt that he left the first four buttons undone.

It has cactus patterns on it.

Geralt can't help but wonder if Jaskier wearing this shirt is actually some kind of a secret message to him and him only.

Didn't he say that Geralt was just like a cactus?

"...prickly on the outside sometimes, but soft on the inside? A cactus in the desert.”

His words. Not Geralt's.

What does that even mean then? Something like "I wanna wear you on me like a shirt?"

Okay, he should probably stop because he is reading too much into this and—

"Anyway, so, this song goes to the cruel man who made me want to buy this shirt because it reminded me of him. You know who you are,"

Geralt's breath hitches.

He is not reading too much into this.

If anything, it's vice versa, because Jaskier dedicated a song to him.

Jaskier is thinking about him, too.

Thinking about him too much that he has decided he should dedicate a song to him.

The scene splits into five and one of the boxes on the screen shows Jaskier playing the piano, while in the other he plays the lute occasionally, violin in another one, and accordion in the other one. And in the other, he sings.

Good God. Is there anything this man cannot do?—Besides picking names for babies maybe, since picking names is definitely isn't his strong suit.—

"I tell myself what's done is done

I tell myself don't be a fool

Play the field have a lot of fun

It's easy when you play it cool"

"Does this mean he gave up on me because he got fed up with waiting for my call?" he thinks. But then again, why would he sing a song for him if he gave up?

While watching the video, Geralt is well aware of the fact that he will watch this video again and again and will take special care of each Jaskier— making sure not to miss even the tiniest of the mimic and gesture he does.

"I tell myself don't be a chump

Who cares, let him stay away

That's when the phone rings and I jump

And as I grab the phone I pray

Let it please be him, oh dear God

It must be him or I shall die

Or I shall die"

He was right, this isn't a song that screams: "I'm giving up." Thank God it isn't. Jaskier puts his hand on his chest as he sings, and Ciri sighs next to Geralt, resting her head on his shoulder as she watches the video with him. 

"Oh hello, hello my dear God

It must be him but it's not him

And then I die

That's when I die"

That dramatic son of a flower actually flings himself into an armchair.

"After a while, I'm myself again

I take the pieces off the floor

Put my heart on the shelf again

You'll never hurt me anymore"

While he sings the "put my heart on the shelf again" he puts a heart sculpture on his bookshelf with a serious look and frown on his face. He might have got this heart sculpture just for this video for all Geralt knows.

"I'm not a puppet on a string,"

At this point, Geralt wouldn't be surprised to see actual strings attached to the musician's body just so he could cut the strings. He really wouldn’t be surprised, at all.

Because Jaskier is that extra most of the time.

And Geralt loves that about him.

"I'll find somebody else someday

That's when the phone rings, and once again

I start to pray

Let it please be him, oh dear God

It must be him, it must be him

or I shall die, or I shall die"

The musician's voice goes up effortlessly into an unreachable octave as he sings the last part, and it's impossible not to be impressed. 

But then again, the man puts his heart into everything he does, therefore even doing something like folding a simple frog origami seems impressive when he is the one who's doing it, let alone singing as perfectly as this.

He then slowly walks towards the camera as the other boxes disappear and that one takes over the screen.

"Seriously though," he makes an aggressive 'call me' gesture, and the scene fades to black after that.

"Whoever keeps Jaskier waiting must be crazy," Ciri comments and gave a snort of disapproval and frustration. "He must care about this idiot of a guy a lot if he sings for him like this. What a jabroni. It would take him only a minute to call him."

"Ciri!"

"What? I'm right."

"That's not a nice thing to say," Geralt warns as he hands the laptop back to his daughter.

"I'm surprised that you watched the full thing, by the way. Actually, you don't seem too annoyed with me watching his videos nowadays, and you seemed quite interested in this one."

"I just love Vikki Carr," Geralt says. He has seen the title of the video, after all, so he knew this was a cover of her song. "I've wondered how he sang this song."

"Name five Vikki Carr songs then."

Geralt doesn't know five Vikki Carr songs— he can't even name two, let alone five.

"Okay, I think that's enough fun for you today," the nurse pretends not to have heard his daughter. "Do your homework while I go out to get some milk."

"We have milk at home."

"No, we don't."

"I put it in the fridge myself just this morning, so yeah, we do."

"We're out of these cookies you love, though."

"I thought you said they consumed way too much sugar so we were going to come up with a healthy and as I've read from your invisible subtitles, also probably boring recipe we can make together this weekend?"

"I— God, you ask a lot of questions today." Geralt whispers tiredly, pinching the bridge of his nose and letting Ciri's "boring recipe" comment slide.

Fuck him for not saying "I'm gonna go get some groceries," instead.

"I just asked one question, but okay. So? You changed your mind?"

"Yeah, I changed my mind, just for one more week, you can have it."

"Really?! Thanks!"

"Anything you want, pumpkin. Alright, I'm off!"

Geralt ruffles her hair before he grabs his wallet, keys, and most importantly, his phone.

Just before he closes the door, he can hear Jaskier's voice coming from the living room once again.

He cannot blame Ciri at all.

***

"If this is another spam call and not the important call I've been waiting for I swear on all my lute strings that I'll crush that damn phone on the ground and dance upon its bloody ruins! Actually, no, wait, that would mean the possibility of missing the call I've been waiting for, but you got my point."

As soon as Jaskier answers his call and starts talking, he feels like all the tiredness of the day disappears. Jaskier's voice manages to do that even when he is simply busy telling him off, having no idea who he is talking to. 

He can see that Ciri was right. He is an idiot for waiting for the right time.

"I'm seriously so sick of—"

Geralt finally cuts him off by saying: "Wow, I wouldn't wanna be a scammer or something right now, you aggressive Dandelion."

"Wait a second, this voice— Geralt?! Is that really you? Oh my God, you finally ca— I mean—"

Jaskier coughs as if he tries not to sound too excited, "Heey, the best nurse in the existence," Geralt can almost see his flirty frowning, yes, he manages to make even frowning look flirty for crying out loud, "How's it hanging?" he asks, his voice sounds deep, lazy, and dare he say, sensual.

"I should be asking you the same question. Are you still praying by the phone?"

"Someone does stalk me on social media, I see."

"And someone sings a song and makes a pretty impressive video clip for me, I see. My daughter was watching it, and that's how I found out about it. Just for your information."

"So you're not the one who stalks me online. It's Ciri," Jaskier says, and the fact that he remembers Ciri's name warms up Geralt's heart if he's being honest. "Sweet. Cool. Cool. I'm not hurt by that at all."

"Well..."

"Would you die if you let me be happy for just a moment? Not that I'm not happy to know that your daughter still watches my videos, but it would be nice to hear that you were the one who checked my account willingly."

"I'm sure I would see your video today anyway. Maybe it wouldn't be that soon, I admit, but I would see it."

"Is that so?"

"It is so."

Silence.

But it isn't an uncomfortable one.

"Did you really find it impressive?" Jaskier asks, his voice is full of hope and happiness.

"Well—" 

"Nah, I know it's impressive, forget that I asked," he lets out a long sigh, "If I knew making a video clip for you would make you call me right away, I would do that earlier. Were you playing 'hard to get' or something? You know... I find it kinda cruel to make someone who just got out of the hospital keep waiting on the phone for so long. For your information, that 'kinda' is kinda unnecessary here maybe. I call it 'the polite kinda'. Or 'the unnecessary kinda'. " 

The next moment, Jaskier's playful tone leaves its place to a caring, worried one as he keeps talking: "If something is going wrong with your life, I take it back though. Ignore everything I said in that case. Is everything okay? Are you okay?"

"Ah, about that— Don't worry, everything is alright," Geralt replies, "I was thinking about calling you today, but I couldn't quite find the time. I know that's not an excuse, and I know I could call you earlier, but I didn't want to call you only to say 'I have to hang up,' a minute later."

"I’m happy to hear that nothing is wrong. And well, even that would be better than leaving me hanging. Or a simple 'Hey, the best patient ever' text would do. You took so long that I would be lying if I said I didn't think about getting involved in another accident."

"I'd rather you didn't."

"I would get into millions of accidents just to see you, Geralt. Provided that I could have you as my nurse every time, of course. What's the point otherwise? I'm not a masochist."

"Such a flatterer you are, Mr. Pan—"

"I'm not trying to flatter you. Cross my heart and hope do die, I'm just scattering the facts around like they are glitters. Or cake sprinkles."

"God forbid! Accidents, death... Aren't we gonna talk about nice things at all?"

"I've been waiting for you to call me forever. I have every right to be bitter about it."

"I'll make it up to you, I promise. How about I start making up to you, starting now?" 

"Sounds like you have something in your mind, Mr. Handsome Nurse." 

"I do, indeed. Have you had dinner yet?" 

"Does strawberry yogurt count as dinner?"

"I highly doubt it. You were complaining about hospital food, and yet that's what you choose to have for dinner?"

"I've never said I count yogurt as quality dinner, but it's still better than the things you dare to serve people as 'food', I should admit, I thought you already came to terms with—"

"Maybe you should come over so I can show you how a proper, nice dinner looks like. I'm not half bad at cooking."

Jaskier is silent on the other end of the line.

"Are you still there?" Geralt asks finally, "I'm sorry if this was too forward of me or too soon, I just thought it could be nice. You could meet Ciri too, that way." 

"No! Yeah! I mean—" if Geralt didn't imagine it, Jaskier sighs and murmurs an angry 'get it together you dumbass,' to himself before he continues talking. "Yes, I'm still here. No, this wasn't too forward of you. I was just taken aback a little bit, sorry. I mean, not every day a handsome nurse who I've been waiting for his call for a decade calls and invites me over for dinner. I'd love that, Geralt."

"I'll send you the address, then." Geralt checks his watch, it's nearly 6 p.m. "Is eight okay for you?"

"Sure, that should be fine. Hey, Ciri still doesn't know, right?"

"I don't think I need to answer that."

"Huh? Why is that?"

"Don't you think she would just grab my phone and call you herself if she knew? Or reaching out to you on every social media possible? Shouting from the rooftops, even?"

"She really likes me that much?"

"She just called me, I quote, an 'idiot', 'crazy', and 'jabroni' after watching your video, so..."

"She did what?!"

"I mean, not directly at me since she doesn't know I'm the 'him' in the 'it must be him', but still." 

"Seems to me like you're in big trouble here."

"Don't even remind me about it."

"I'd be lying if I said that doesn't put some pressure on me though. I mean... What if she doesn't like me?"

"Wha— Ciri already adores you. She adores you so much that it's annoying sometimes."

"It's impossible not to like you," is on the tip of his langue.

"They say never meet your heroes. What if when she actually meets me, she goes 'Meh, that's it?' What if I disappoint her somehow?"

"Worrying about earth getting invaded by the aliens in pink pasta costumes and tutus would much more sense compared to this. Believe me."

Jaskier laughs at that, but Geralt can still sense that he is not completely convinced.

"If you say so."

"I know so, Jaskier. I know so."

[justthehiddleswrites]

Anesthesia | Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Summary:  Tom suffers a serious car accident and the reader is the nurse on duty in the ER. Tom and anesthesia don't mix and Tom acts very out of character. Can Tom regain his composure or will he continue to shamelessly flirt with the reader? And is Benedict going to work all of this to his advantage?

Warnings: Car Accidents, Hospitals, Anesthesia Makes people act crazy, Tom quoting Shakespeare

-

“Tom?”

Tom’s eyes fluttered, and he blinked several times, adjusting to the bright white light.

“Nurse! He is waking up!”

Nurse? Waking up? Tom reached out and cold metal hit his hands. Safety rails. The air was cool, dry, and sterile. As he attempted to sit up, he felt a cold air hit his bare back.

“Hey buddy, lie back down. You gave us quite a scare,” the familiar voice reassured him as he lowered himself back down to the bed.

Tom turned his head to the sound and once he saw Benedict’s face he smiled. Ben smiled back.

“Welcome back to Earth, Tom.”

“Thanks, what happened?”

The last thing Tom remembered was climbing into the stunt car to rehearse the big action shot. After that, it was just flashes of fire, screams and sirens.

“The brakes failed and the stunt coordinator doesn’t know what happened. But the important thing is you got out alive.”

Tom attempted to sit up again and felt winces of pain throughout his body.

“What was the damage?”

Benedict looked down.

“To you or the car?”

“The car… of course me! I feel as though a Mack truck hit me.”

“You are not far off. You broke your clavicle, wrist, and a few ribs. Um… lacerations everywhere and a… a ruptured spleen.”

Tom twisted to see his friend’s face better and felt the stitches and bandages strain. He winced at the sharp pain on his left side. Benedict hit the call button and in minutes, the nurse arrived.

She smiled as she approached the bed.

“Feeling pain?”

Tom nodded.

She looked at your chart before adding some pain meds to Tom’s IV.

“That should do. I would suggest lying down and the doctor should be in about twenty minutes.”

Tom thanked her and couldn’t help but notice her gazing over her shoulder as she left the room. Her smile barely contained her giggles. Tom’s eyes widened.

“Do they know who I am?”

Benedict averted his eyes and rose from the chair, feigning interest in the generic artwork on the wall. Tom narrowed his eyes at the clear avoidance of the question.

“What are you not telling me?”

“Oh boy, you don’t remember anything when you got here, do you?”

Tom shook his head.

“No, what happened?”

“You were in a lot of pain. Tell me have you ever been under anesthesia before?”

“Maybe, once or twice…” Tom questioned, but then he stared his friend down for answers.

“What did I say, Ben?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“Yes, I do. Sit down and tell me, and I will decide if you live or die.”

Dejected, Ben returned to the chair and let a sigh out.

“I’m sorry, Tom.”

Four Hours Earlier

The gurney burst through the ER doors just fifteen minutes after you started your shift. Emergency room shifts are never boring but physically and emotionally draining. You put down your cup of coffee and headed in to assess the patient.

A man lied, groaning on the gurney. His face covered in scrapes and blood staining his ginger whiskers. His left wrist sat at an unnatural angle and his shirt cut away by the paramedics to administer help.

“Car accident,” the EMT relayed, “stunt gone wrong.”

A specific hazard unique to Los Angeles. They wheeled him to the examination room and put him onto the bed with care. He wore a C-collar, but the jostling stirred the man. His eyelids fluttered open and his blue eyes work to focus on his surroundings.

“Hey…” you looked down at his chart, “Tom. How are you doing?”

“Pain.”

“I know you are in pain, but where?”

Tom gestured to the left side of his abdomen.

“Okay.” You grabbed some morphine and added it to his IV. “Any allergies?”

He shook his head.

“Anyone come with you?”

As if on cue, Benedict pulled back the curtain.

“I did.”

You recognized the man standing before you. Benedict Cumberbatch was quite the movie star.

“Really?” You attempted to keep your cool. This was no time for fan girling.

Within minutes, Benedict could communicate the information about not only the accident but Tom’s medical history as well. It had all been on file with the production company.

The doctor came in and did a quick examination.

“We need to get a CT scan and X-rays. Looks like there may be internal injuries.”

You nodded as you prepared to wheel Tom down the hall.

“Ready to go for a ride?” you asked.

Tom nodded and gave a goofy smile.

“What’s your name?”

“Y/N.”

“Y/N, Y/N. That’s a beautiful name. My name is Tom Fucking Hiddleston.”

The drugs were doing their job.

“Nice to meet you, Tom. We will take you for some tests.”

“But I didn’t study!” he sounded dismayed.

You could not suppress your laugh.

“I think you will be fine.”

Tom grabbed your hand and looked up at you, tears in his eyes.

“Will you help me study?” he asked with a serious tone.

“Of course.”

Tom continued to babble on for the rest of the trip to imaging. He spoke about how nice you smelled and how pretty your eyes look. The full court press of flirting. As you reached the room, you and the other nurse lifted Tom onto the machine.

“Here you go.”

Tom grabbed your hand once again.

“Please don’t leave. I’m scared of the dark.”

While his words spoke of her fear, his eyes and smile said something else.

“Are you flirting with me, Mr. Hiddleston?”

His smile only grew.

“Is it working?”

You leaned in to his ear to whisper, “No, but the drugs are.”

Tom pouted.

“Not fair.”

“But you are cute.”

His face lit up once again.

“I came, saw and overcame.” Tom was being dramatic.

At that point, the other nurse started up the machine, and you walked away to let the rest of nurses to care for his needs. After his scans, you headed back to the waiting area. You found Benedict pacing the floor in anticipation. His long fingers alternating between steepling in front of his face and raking through his hair. As you approached, you cleared your throat.

“Yes?” his voice shared a tone of concern and hopefulness.

“A few broken bones but the big thing is that his spleen has ruptured. He needs surgery right away.”

Ben’s face fell.

“Will he be okay?”

You nodded.

“He will make a full recovery. Would you like to see him before they send him in to operating?”

You led Ben back to where they were prepping Tom for surgery. The anesthesiologist added drugs to the IV and Tom was now in a full hospital gown. His tattered rags of clothes in the garbage.

“No fair!” Tom bellowed as you entered with Ben throwing the thin sheet over his legs. The two of you shared a knowing look, “You have seen me naked but I have not had the chance to see you naked.”

You leaned into Benedict.

“It would seem that the medicine does not agree with your friend,” you smirked.

“Oh, I don’t know, I rather like him like this, so not proper. So not Tom Hiddleston.”

You smiled as you looked upon Tom who, in vain, tried to cover his body. Even loopy on drugs, he charmed and warmed your heart.

“I will leave you to it.”

As you turned to leave, Tom shouted at you.

“I love thee, Y/N. By which honor I dare not swear thou lovest me, yet my blood begins to flatter me that thou dost, not withstanding the poor and untempering effect of visage. And therefore tell me, most fair Y/N, will you have me?”

You suppressed a small giggle.

“I will see you later,” you let them both know as you shut the door.

As soon as the door latched, Tom grabbed Benedict’s arm and pulled him down close.

“Ben! Ben! Have you met my wife?”

Benedict screwed his face up with confusion.

“The nurse? That is just the drugs talking, Tom. You barely know her.”

“Nonsense. She will be my wife and you shall be my best man.”

Benedict looked at Tom with an exasperated face but Tom’s only contained earnest. With a chuckle, Benedict conceded.

“Very well, Tom. I will be your best man.”

Tom slapped Benedict’s shoulder.

“That’s the spirit. As my best man, I require you to acquire my future bride’s number.”

Benedict could not resist at this point to play along with his friend’s drug-addled fantasy.

“I will, on one condition.”

“Name your price.”

“Name your firstborn after me.”

“Consider it done.”

“Then consider the number yours.”

Tom’s face beamed and as if on cue, the nurses came to wheel Tom into surgery.

***

“Oh dear, God. I quoted Shakespeare.”

Tom hung his head and his face and neck turned a bright shade of red.

“Yep. The Henry the Fifth wooing speech too. Honestly, it was one of your better performances. Might I suggest doing all your roles drugged from now on.”

Tom shot Benedict a withering look.

“Ha ha. Very funny. I can’t show my face to her again.”

At that moment, the door opened, and you entered. The color drained from Tom’s face, while the smile grew on Benedict’s.

“Y/N!” Benedict cooed, “We were just talking about you. So nice of you to stop in.”

Your shift ended half an hour ago, but you wanted to check in on Tom before going home. Today was not the first time a patient hit on you, although they are usually not an award-winning actor with a penchant for quoting Shakespeare. But, you would remain ever the professional. You checked the chart before wishing the two men well.

As you turned to exit, Benedict walked you out.

“Thank you, Y/N for attending to Tom.”

“My pleasure. Even under the influence, he is quite charming.”

Benedict took this opportunity.

“Speaking about that…”

3 years later

“Tom!”

You yelled down the hall of your London home, beckoning your husband. At six months pregnant, getting up and down was no easy task. Tom rushed to your side. He gave you his arm and with a rocking start; you extracted yourself from the chair.

“Thanks, darling.”

“I am at your beck and call.”

You rubbed your swollen belly as you waddled your way down the hall. Tom followed you to the kitchen.

“Now about names for this little young man here.”

Tom grew ashen. He thought he could avoid this conversation, but it seems his luck had run out.

“Yeah, I have I mentioned today that I love you.”

Tom kissed your lips, and you looked at him with distrust.

“What have you done?”

Tom smiled and rubbed his neck, a nervous habit.

“I may have promised to name the child after Benedict.”

Tom flinched.

“You what? Why on earth would you do that?”

“It was for a good cause.”

“Which was?”

“Your phone number.”

With that, Tom took off down the hallway. You smiled as you walked with much effort behind him.

“We are NOT naming our child after breakfast food!”

You heard Tom’s laughter fill the house.

[truly-madly-slytherin]

The Dark Princess

*gif not mine//credit to the owner

A/N: Hello loveliessss! 🌸 so I’m hoping that my writing in this chapter has improved somewhat from the last and that it is as magical for you to read as it was for me to write ☺️ I appreciate every like, reblog and follow so thank you all so much 🥰🥰 there’s a bit of a jump between the prologue and the main story so this is more of a filler chapter and in case anyone is confused she has the diary because Tom makes sure (Y/N) intercepts it in between Ginny getting rid of it and Harry finding it. Alsooo I suck at introductions so bear with me 😅 Happy reading peoples! 🥳🥳 Italics = flashback/dream, (E/C) = your eye colour, (H/C) = hair colour

Summary: It is the beginning of the summer after your fourth year and you are moving into Riddle House with your father, at his insistence, making you think back to when you first met him during your second year at Hogwarts. You won’t be there for long though... 

Pairing: AU Lord Voldemort x daughter!reader, Tom Riddle x OC!

*I don’t own any of these characters except the OC, all rights belong to J.K. Rowling and the filmmakers

 PROLOGUE

Chapter One

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Riddle House once stood as the most prestigous mansion in Little Hangleton. Now whimpering on top of the hill, a ghostly shell of itself; it’s derelict and decrepit condition reflected the sinister history encased within the walls. Each room explored was more somber than the last, and emptiness clouded the air so thick it was almost suffocating.

*gif not mine//credit to the owner

The floorboards creak beneath your feet as you traipse down the hallway, your father a few steps ahead.

“And now... we have the kitchen” he announces with a flourish of his arm. Dimly lit by a grubby window, the room, like the rest of the house, left a lot to be desired. Tiles hung from the walls whilst every surface was caked in decades worth of dust. Cobwebs strewn here and there, the sink was more rust than steel and there was a large cavity where the cooker once stood.

“It’s.... interesting” you force out, the weak taste of iron flooding your tastebuds as you bring your teeth down on the flesh of your bottom lip. Taking out his wand Voldemort flicks his wrist and the dingy room quickly transforms itself into a modern kitchen.

“Wow!” you whisper running your fingers along the cool marble.

Turning to face you, his nonexistent lips contort into a terrifyingly sweet crescent. “Luckily I had the foresight to prepare your bedroom before you arrived.”

Trudging back through the hallway, you take time to notice the portraits hanging along the wall, a series of black smudges where the faces once were. Wandering upstairs you spot a door with a wooden rose-embossed sign reading ‘Y/N’s Fortress’.

“Here goes nothing” you sigh.

Entering, a gasp escapes your lips. In the middle of the large room stood a king sized four-poster bed, adorned with a rose quilted headboard and white chiffon curtains. To your left was a beautiful vintage french dressing table complete with matching bedside tables decorated in tiny hand-painted black, red and pink roses. The grand wardrobe standing beside it, decorated in the same tiny roses, could surely house more garments than you even owned. To your right hung a wicker swing seat, pink rose buds woven throughout, appearing as though it was made entirely from the delicate plants, positioned perfectly in view of the large Edwardian window. Hanging above the headboard were pictures of you, your mother and father, clipped evenly along a piece of string intertwined with fairy lights, glistening as each scene plays out before you.

“I mustn’t take any credit, Bellatrix was in charge of the preparations.” Your father states watching you from the doorway.

“It’s beautiful” you whisper, tears welling in your eyes.

Voldemort set about fixing the rest of the house giving you time to settle and take it all in. Lying on the soft mattress, you think back to the first time you met your father, a stark constrast to the man you know today.

Sitting at your desk the blank pages stare back at you and your fingers rake through your messy (H/C) curls for the hundredth time. Front to back the diary was barer than the day it was made.

You had been in the girls bathroom during lunch when you noticed something on the floor. Finding a small black book with leather as soft as feathers and gold lettering along the bottom, you pick it up to inspect it further.

“Tom Marvolo Riddle.” 

Your eyebrows crease as the name rolls off your tongue, a frown etching it’s way onto your forehead. What would a boys diary be doing in the girls bathroom? Nevertheless you keep the book, and make your way to class, letting it burn a hole through your satchel until the end of the day. Your last class was Potions and with any luck it would go quickly. Settling into your seat, you spin around to the cute blonde haired boy behind you.

“Is there any one at Hogwarts named Tom Riddle?” You ask him, red hot flames licking at your cheeks as his crystal blue eyes meet yours.

“Not that I know of. And I know everyone who is anyone around here” he snorted. Choosing to ignore the radiating arrogance you turn back to the front, mind racing. The diary didn’t belong to a Hogwarts student at all, so how on earth did it end up in our bathroom?

Your leg jerks up and down repeatedly below the desk and your eyes wander back to the clock. 3:43pm. Exactly one minute had passed from the last time you checked. Ahead of you Professor Snape is droning on about a potion you hadn’t yet caught the name of. 

“And the 5th step in the brewing of the Wiggenweld Potion is...?” Snape drawls out, his beady eyes searching out his next victim. Chewing on your lip you try to concentrate, to no avail.

“Miss Rosier?” His expectant eyes land on you, lips curling into a signature smirk.

“A-add more salamander blood until the potion turns t-turquoise” you splutter.

“Very good. Someone who has obviously been making notes, wouldn’t you agree Mr Weasley?” The air escapes your lungs with a whoosh as he narrows his eyes at Ron across the room. Ron gulps, ducking his head in an attempt to hide the crimson blush now creeping up his cheeks.

Finally the clock stikes 4 and you make sure you’re the first one out, darting between the students and managing to make it halfway through the dungeons before the bell rings out. “Pureblood” you mutter, the portrait swinging open. “Ooh someone’s in a hurry!” Paying no mind to the painting you dash up the stairs.

“Tracey?”

“Daphne?”

With no answer you plonk down at your desk and begin writing.

“My name is Y/N Rosier, and this is my diary.” 

Your (E/C) eyes go round, lids refusing to blink as you watch the words slowly sink into the page. Your small hands vigorously rub at them and yet the page remains just as blank as it had been originally. Your brain scrambles to make some sense of what is happening, but not giving your thoughts a chance to untangle themselves, words begin to materialise across the page.

“Hello Y/N.”

Curiosity trumping any thought of sense, the tip of your quill connects with the aged paper once more. “Who are you?”

“My name is Tom Marvolo Riddle.

And I am your father.”

Your breath hitches in your throat. The fluttering birds that previously occupied your ribcage die out as your heart threatens to beat right out of your chest, pumping ice throughout your veins at an ungodly speed. The pounding in your ears nears defeaning as the middle of the book suddenly throws out streaks of blinding light.

Regaining your vision you’re surrounded by stone walls and green glowing lamps. The click-clack of shoes echo through the dungeon as hushed whispers become audible.

“No Tom! I told you- I warned you- I told you something bad would happen- that something so evil would surely have consequences, and you ignored me. And now look! A girl has died Tom!” The young woman vigorously shakes her head, her wild ginger curls bouncing about her face while she scolds the boy. 

“Lower your voice before somebody hears you.” He hisses, the pair coming to a halt in front of you. His lips curl into a sneer as his large hand wraps around her dainty wrist. “I am Lord Voldemort after all.” 

“Don’t you dare talk to me like that!” she seethes. Snatching her wrist from his grasp, her perfectly manicured finger points at his face. “Your name is Thomas Marvolo Riddle and I am not one of your little followers bowing down at your feet and kissing your arse! And most importantly Tom, I am not scared of you!” She storms off and Tom continues hot on her heels as you scurry behind. 

“For Merlins sake! Fleur wait-” Blocking her path, Tom’s hands come to rest on the girl’s arms, this time gently caressing her skin. “I’m sorry I should never have spoken to you like that, I don’t want you to be scared of me... I forget myself sometimes. Forgive me?” His hands move to cup her cheeks, and her slender arms wrap loosely around his torso as her anger seemingly dissolves.

“Well don’t forget yourself too much around me otherwise one day you may turn around and I won’t be here Tom.” At least a foot shorter than him, his chin rested comfortably atop her head. 

“Don’t worry, Princess, it won’t be long now before I am crowned the greatest sorcerer the world has ever seen.” Her head buried into his chest ignoring the icy tones lacing the boys words.

Your hand shoots to the base of your skull as a dull ache begins to resonate. ‘He needs to work on his landings.’

“Y/N there you are! Where were you? We missed you at supper. And what on earth are you doing on the floor?” Daphne gives you a quizzical look before extending her hand and helping you up.

As you dust off your robes you try to think of a convincing lie. “I wasn’t feeling very well after Potions. I had to run straight to the loo and then came to lie down - I suppose I must have fainted.” With a shrug of your shoulders you begin to change out of your robes, Daphne following suit.

“Lumos.”

With everyone else now asleep you decide to take your chance to figure out just what on earth is going on. The faint glow illuminates the makeshift tent you had created with your bedcovers, an inkpot balanced expertly between your knees and quill secured between your teeth. Opening the diary with your free hand you reposition the wand. 

“Are you there?”

Just as before the ink disappears, so sucking in a breath you stare at the page. After a few moments nothing had changed. ‘Of course it’s blank you bloody idiot. I must be going bloody barmy!’ 

Before you could finish scolding yourself, the words appear across the page.

“Hello again Y/N.”

“What happened earlier?” Not having much time you wanted to get straight to the point. 

“No beating around the bush, I like it. Just like your mother.”

“My mother Fleur?”

“Yes, Fleur. She truly was a wonderful witch. Say, do you think you could do me a favour Y/N?” 

You weigh up your options before replying. “Not until you tell me what’s going on.” 

“I will answer all of your questions, but it must be in person.”

“But how would I? You couldn’t even see me earlier.”

“I will show you how, just go to the girls bathroom on the first floor.”

Under the mask of the invisibility spell you sneak out of the common room, diary clasped tightly under your arm. Moving through the dungeons it doesn’t take you long to reach the first floor bathroom. As you await your instructions you begin to feel a strong magnetic pull towards one of the sinks. Unable to resist you move to stand opposite. Lightly tracing the stone serpent beneath your fingertips, your mouth opens and words of a language unknown to you flow out. Suddenly the marble sink shifts to reveal a vertical tunnel.

“Jump Y/N. Jump!”

Without giving it a second thought you launch yourself down the hole. Your face scrunches up like a ball of paper as you brace yourself for an impact that doesn’t come. Landing on something soft and scaly, you open your eyes.

Below you was the largest snake you had ever laid eyes on, with skin the colour of green ivy and piercing red orbs easily the size of your skull, if not bigger. Bowing down, it repositions your body on its spiky head, and begins speeding through the tunnels. Coming to a stop in front of a large stone monument, the creature bends down and gently slides your slim frame off, and onto the wet floor.

As you stand upright, a silhouette steps out from the cover of the shadows.

"My darling Y/N..."

KNOCK. KNOCK. 

Bolting upright, your confused eyes dart around the room. The sky was now jet black and above you the fairy lights were glowing softly in the darkness. Rolling your legs off of the bed you answer the door to find your father standing on the other side, arms tucked neatly behind his back. 

“My apologies love, did I wake you?” he asks with a level of affection you hadn’t been expecting.

“Yes but no matter, I hadn’t meant to fall asleep in the first place” you reassure him, shrugging off the last remnents of sleep. 

“Very well. I have some unexpected business to attend to, and as you are still new to this house I don’t feel comfortable leaving you here alone, so I have arranged for you to stay with a dear friend of mine for the remainder of the summer” he states matter-of-factly, leaving no room for compromise. 

“Oh. I hoped I would be staying here for the summer.” 

With your (E/C) doe-eyes and lips pouting just enough to be noticeable, you were the image of your mother when she was sulking, and Voldemort found a dull warmth spreading throughout him at the reminder of the distant memory. 

“I know Princess I do apologise. I hoped we would have the opportunity to bond during your time away from Hogwarts. However the situation is simply unavoidable.” 

“Fine” you sigh in defeat. “So who will I be staying with? Anyone I know?”

“You’ll be staying with the Malfoy’s.”  

[watchmegetobsessed]

Celebrity crush - Tom Holland

just a little something i thought about today!

word count: 3.1k

masterlist

“So this is how it’s gonna go. We’ll give you two options to choose from, you’ll say who you would rather choose to be your man, we’ll keep him and you’ll get a new face on the other side. Clear?” Ellen explains the game of ‘Who’d you rather’ to you as you nervously sit in the comfortable armchair. You shoot the audience a nervous look nodding your head.

“Sounds cool,” you clear your throat bracing yourself to whatever is about to come.

“Great, let’s see our first candidates!” she announces and you turn to the huge screen behind you when two faces appear next to each other. “We have Liam Hemsworth and Ansel Elgort. Who do you choose?”

“Um, tough start, I’ll go with Liam,” you say nodding to yourself. You’re satisfied with your choice.

“Alright next up we have Liam and…” Ansel’s face disappears and it’s replaced by a photo of Dylan Minnette.” Liam and Dylan!”

“Dylan is a cute guy, but I think I’ll stick with Liam.”

“Okay, Liam stays. Let’s see the next one,” Ellen nods and Dylan’s face is now replaced by Harry Styles. “Oh my! Harry or Liam?”

“Oh definitely Harry,” you say before you could even stop yourself from talking and the audience laughs, but totally agrees with your choice. “Just look at him! And I think you purposely used a picture where he has long hair. That was iconic.”

“He really did have all the looks,” Ellen agrees. “Okay, so we have lost Liam, now we are rolling with Harry. Let’s see the next contestant.”

As the picture changes on the screen your answer comes faster than you could even think about who you want to choose.

“Tom!” you snap immediately as Tom Holland’s photo appears on the big screen and the audience starts clapping at your fast response.

It’s been an open secret in your team that your absolute number one celebrity crush is none other than Spider-Man himself. You’ve seen all of his movies numerous times and on your latest birthday your friends even put a shirtless photo of him to your cake. You obviously didn’t post that one, but it did take a better place in your heart than the other, plain one.

“That was… pretty fast,” Ellen smirks at you and you can feel your cheeks growing warm at how unfiltered you were.

“I’m just a big fan of his,” you tell her, but your face gives you away.

“Who isn’t? Okay, let’s see the next one. Tom or Nick Jonas?”

“Tom,” you say without even giving Nick a second thought.

“Seems like we are picking up the pace of the game. Alright, Tom or… Zac Efron?”

“Tom.”

Ellen laughs at your eagerness to keep Tom, but she keeps going for two more rounds where you keep choosing Tom over Cole Sprouse and Taron Egerton, until his photo finally moves over to the middle as the winner.

“So I guess we have a winner over here. You didn’t seem to be willing to even look at anyone after Tom.”

“I told you, I’m a big fan of his,” you tell her with a shy, but flirty smile as you fix your designer dress and cross your legs.

“Have you—Have you ever met him?”

“Unfortunately not yet, but I’m hoping our paths will eventually cross. I’m a Spidey fan, seen all the movies and he is definitely my favorite so far.”

“What would you tell him if he was here now?”

You are quick to turn around and check he is not creeping his way up to you right now. You can never know what Ellen has in store for you, she is the queen of surprises when it comes to her show.

“He is not here, don’t worry,” she laughs as you sit back with a relieved sigh.

“I had to make sure,” you chuckle. “Anyway, my message to him is that if he ever wants to come and see my show, I can get him a free backstage pass,” you say and then flirtatiously wink at the nearest camera as the audience starts cheering.

“Tom, I hope you’re watching this and you are gonna take the next step. Y/N is waiting for you!” Ellen smirks before moving on with the second part of your interview.

Few days after the taping the interview finally airs and the internet goes crazy over your crush on Tom Holland. Your fans even make memes and montages of the two of you, some of them make you laugh hard when you are scrolling through your feed on your rehearsal.

To be honest, you thought it would be the end of the story, you quickly moved on since you had a sold out show next Saturday and you were in and out of rehearsals in the upcoming days, not even paying a second thought to what went down at the interview.

Saturday afternoon you are sitting at makeup when Rita, your manager walks in with the widest grin on her face you’ve ever seen.

“What’s gotten you so happy?”

“Guess who I just gave three passes to?”

You think to yourself, but don’t really have a valid guess. Unfortunately, Rita doesn’t want to give out the information that easily.

“Okay, if you can’t guess you’ll have to see it yourself. Pay extra attention to the VIP sector on the right tonight,” she hints before walking out.

“Rita! You can’t just not tell me!” you shout after her, but she is gone.

She successfully made you go crazy over who is going to be in the audience tonight, but also made sure no one gives you the info before the start, so you have to see it during the show.

“I fucking hate you,” you growl at her as you stand behind the stage, getting ready to start. The intro is already playing and the hairstylist is finishing up your hair one last time.

“Make sure to put extra effort into the Harder choreo today,” Rita winks at you and you scoff at her. Harder is one of your steamiest songs, and the dance you perform on stage is definitely a hot one where you truly feel like a badass woman in your tight, revealing costume.

The show starts off great, the crowd is going crazy and you are grateful to be with your fans tonight, but your eyes keep wandering over to the side where you are supposed to see the mysterious guest, but the lights are too bright for you to see anything other than pitch black. All lights are dimmed when Harder comes on and the red lights give just the perfect heated atmosphere the song needs. You’re wearing your skintight bodysuit and knee high boots, hair let down as you do your sexy dance with your female dancers in the back. In the middle of the song you go over to the right side where you are supposed to do a short routine on a chair, one of your favorite parts in the whole show. Singing the lines you sit down to the chair that was already waiting for you and just as you open your knees wide your eyes meet a familiar gaze and you almost forget to sing.

Tom Holland is standing in the VIP section with his pass hanging from his neck, he has his two brothers with him, but you pay little attention to them as you keep performing with your eyes glued to his handsome face.

Taking Rita’s advice you make sure the rest of the choreography is as sexy and heated as possible and you occasionally keep glancing in Tom’s direction who seems to be enjoying the show. It gives you the boost to bring the best out of yourself, he is smirking with amusement in his eyes and you catch him say something to his brothers from time to time who just nod in agreement. You’d die to know what his words were, but you can only hope he’ll come backstage after the show and you can ask him yourself.

By the end of the concert you are bursting from energy and this show will definitely be in your top ten for the rest of your life. You’re panting but grinning widely as you run off the stage and do a quick group hug with your dancers, something you never miss after every show as an appreciation and celebration of the good work you just did.

As you head to your dressing room you spot your manager who has a devilish smile on her face and you almost start lashing out on her, but then none other than Tom Holland shows up coming from the arena. You stop in your way as your eyes meet, eyebrows running up on your forehead when you see the big bouquet of flowers in his hands. He gifts you with a soft, shy smile, the one you’ve seen so many times on the big screen, but it’s a thousand times sweeter in real life.

“Hey!” he greets you waving in your way, as if you haven’t seen him. You don’t see anyone else in the room, to be quite honest.

“Hi! I… didn’t know you were coming tonight,” you admit tugging your hair behind your ear and you wish you felt less sweaty and smelly. You can only hope it’s not as bad as you think.

“I took your invitation serious,” he chuckles making you smile.

“I honestly didn’t think you’d ever see that, sorry if it was… too silly or something,” you tell him with a nervous laugh. It wasn’t in your plans to face him so fast after you admitted to the whole world that you have a fat crush on him.

“Well, it was hard not to see it when literally everyone was tagging me in posts about it.” He then realizes the flowers are still in his hands and steps closer. “Oh, I brought these for you. I hope it’s not too big of a cliché, but I wanted to give you something after the show.”

“That’s so sweet, thank you!” you tell him completely touched by the gesture as he hands you the beautiful bouquet. “Did you like the show?” you innocently ask, his look imprinted in your mind as he watched you in awe from the audience.

“It was fantastic! Really, mind-blowing. All the dancing and everything, I didn’t even know where to look.”

“Well, I saw you looking at me pretty often,” you flirt and hope you’re not being too bold. But there’s no way you are wasting this chance with Tom Fucking Holland, your all-time favorite Spider-Man and #ManCrushMonday. Though you haven’t posted about the latter, but you definitely thought about it before.

His cheeks turn red as he laughs nervously, scratching the back of his neck.

“Well, it was hard not to look when you were so breathtaking, to be honest.”

You can’t stop yourself from smiling like a teenage girl at the compliment. Even an idiot could feel that there is in fact something between the two of you and you truly hope he is feeling the same and it’s not just your crush talking from you.

“Hey, you guys should take a picture together,” Harry suggests and you suddenly feel ashamed you haven’t even acknowledged the twins’ presence.

“Oh, yeah, sure! But you guys should come too!” you tell him, but Tom is quick to differ.

“No!” he protests and you give him a surprised look before he corrects himself. “I mean—Let’s take one alone and then with the boys.”

“Okay,” you smile, and judging from the laugh his brothers try to hide you know his reasoning behind it. “I’m sorry if I’m sweaty and all,” you apologize as he stands next to you, curling an arm around your waist while you do the same and hold the flowers with your other arm.

“I think I’m just as sweaty after that show you just put out,” he admits and you can’t hold you laughter back.

Harry takes a few shots of the two of you before he and Sam joins you and a crew member takes a few group photos.

“Well, thank you for coming, I’m glad we got to finally meet,” you tell them, thinking about how you don’t want to part your ways so soon, but you have to start getting ready to leave.

“Me too, it was something to remember forever,” he admits with that same shy smile. “Hey, so I heard the big news that you’ll be performing at the Oscars!”

“Yes, it’s unbelievable! I’m so nervous just thinking about it!” you admit. It’s kind of an understatement, you’ve been practically shitting yourself ever since Rita broke the news for you that you’d be one of the performers at literally one of the biggest events all year.

“Congrats and… I guess we’ll meet in a week then.” The smile on his lips lets you know he is counting on seeing you on another occasion and you are happy he is on the same page as you.

“I guess,” you nod chuckling.

“Would it be too straight forward if I asked for your number maybe? Just to make sure we will meet that night.”

“Strictly for that reason,” you nod with a playful smirk as he hands you his phone and you type your number in quickly.

“I can’t wait to see you again,” he tells you as you hug goodbye to all three of the boys.

“Same here,” you nod before turning around and heading back to your dressing room.

 ***

 The Oscars is just as nerve-wrecking as exciting it is for you. It’s you first time doing such a huge performance and you definitely don’t want to be remembered for giving the worst show of all times. You smile your way through the red carpet even though you could break down in tears any minute. You’ve never felt this nervous before and you don’t like the effect it has on your mindset.

Sitting in your dressing room you are getting ready since your performance is just twenty minutes away. Your glam and outfit is completely done, but you just don’t feel the same in your thoughts.

From a sudden idea you send a text to Tom. It’s been an entire week since the show he attended and he texted you before you could even get back to your dressing room and you’ve been going back and forth ever since. He even FaceTimed you one night and you had a two hours long conversation about the most random things. Tom is easy to talk to and this is exactly how you imagined him. Your crush on him has just grown since you met him in real life. In this moment you feel like he is the person you want to talk to, but you doubt he even has his phone on him.

For your biggest surprise a reply arrives just seconds later.

“I’m on my way to you.”

It takes you a few moments to process that he indeed just left his seat at the Oscars to come and calm your nerves. Just about two minutes later there’s a soft knock on the door and after you call out, Tom appears in his perfectly fitted suit, looking better than ever and for a split second you forget everything and just think about how damn good he looks in a suit. When you return to reality panic sets back in and Tom can see it all in your eyes.

“Hey! Why are you so upset?” he gently asks as he steps closer to you taking your hands in his.

“I’m just so fucking nervous, what if I mess it up?”

“You won’t.”

“How do you know?” you whine, already seeing the worst things happen to you out there.

“I just know. I know, because you are literally the best. No one else deserves more to be here than you, alright? They asked you for a reason.”

“I’m just so scared something goes wrong,” you sigh, head hanging low, but he is quick to lift your chin up and make you look in his eyes.

“Everything will be alright. And if something do happen… I’ll just jump up to the table and pull my pants down so everyone will look at me and forget about what you messed up,” he tells you in an attempt to make you laugh and it works.

“That would be pretty funny.”

“Yeah? Do you want me to do it anyway?” he asks chuckling.

“No, keep your pants up,” you tell him shaking your head.

The door opens and an assistant pops his head inside.

“Y/N, we need to go, you are starting in five.” You nod your head and turn back to Tom.

“Can you come with me?” you ask him.

“Of course! Do you want me to stay at the side and wait for you?” You nod again, still feeling a little lost, but way better than before Tom arrived. “Alright. Let’s go then,” he smiles at you and the two of you walk out hand in hand.

He walks you all the way to the stage where you get your mic and earpiece, telling you encouraging words all along, calming your nerves as if it was his magical power.

“You got this,” he tells you, squeezing your hand one last time before you head out to the stage.

He was right, you got this. The song you performed was an excellent choice and the audience seemed to love the visuals and the dance. You get a standing ovation at the end and you almost start crying right there. You rush off the stage and immediately spot Tom still standing at the same spot you left him, his eyes and smile filled with pride and glory and your legs are just pushing your forward until you are in his arms, holding him tight, squeezing him happily as you squeal joyfully.

You lean back and your eyes move down to his lips the same time his gaze travels down to yours. In just a heartbeat you lean forward and your lips meet in a sweet, victorious kiss you’ve been waiting for so long. You melt into his lips, fingers tangled in his perfectly made hair as his palms lay flat on your bare back where the dress is not covering your shivering skin.

It takes quite some time for the two of you to let go of each other, one of you always goes in for just one more kiss as the backstage is rushing around you, people are running wildly to get everything in place when the show returns after the commercial break. Yet you just stand there with Tom, completely lost in each other.

“I think…” he starts quietly, a smirk hiding in his lips, “I think we owe Ellen a thank you,” he says making you laugh.

“Definitely,” you nod before pressing your lips back to his.

-

general/forever taglist for Tom Holland

i do separate taglists for different people, but not for different works of mine! if you ask to be on my Tom taglist, you’ll be tagged in all of my Tom fics!

@zaahidahhh​ @shawn-youth​  @wildflower-cth​ @imaginashawnns​ @haute-shawn  @learning-howto-be-myselfx3​ @cutepenguin1​ @madatmendes @harrysleftchelseaboot​ @sunflower6why​

if you’d like to be taken off or added to the list, please let me know!

[tom-riddle-haunts-me]

Finally, the Reader has a little more space ✨

Hope you enjoy,

Abigail 🐍

Warnings: swearing.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

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Not As Planned

Tom Riddle x Reader

The infamous Dark Lord begins to orchestrate his oh so dreaded return, but while trying to achieve a new, critical pawn's loyalty to him and his cause, things go not as planned.

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4 - Absence

Getting her next day's lessons ready did no use to Y/n. The extra classes provided by her Family during the summer break still vividly played in her mind, and they had covered most of the year's schedule, reason why she had found herself sighing, interest killed by the reading on the potion they were to brew the day after.

Y/n had kept on reading though, just to make sure the words her grandfather had so gently engraved in her head a few months prior were still bleeding in her skull.

Well, they were.

But that was okay, it was perfect, actually.

An Addams could not afford the liberty to start a school year unprepared.

They had to be the best.

She had to be the best.

You had to be the best.

Not only that, you had to be the best of the best.

Hence why in the current time you were answering questions like there was no tomorrow. You'd always end up being almost the only one to participate in the lesson, professors had nothing against it (I mean, maybe Professor McGonagall did, but you still managed to get most of her questions) and your classmates gladly let you take control of the situation.

Well, almost everyone, actually.

There still was him.

Lazarus thatfuckingbitch Malfoy.

He just had to be an asshole and find every single possible way to get on your nerves, sometimes it felt like he simply enjoyed giving you a hard time. Did he want to die that badly? Weren't the Malfoys just cowards naturally inclined to submit to the strongest bidder?

<Yes, Mr Malfoy?>

To hell with him.

<The Venomous Tentacula is a deadly, sentient magical plant. It presents itself as green or brown in color, with spikes, teeth and mobile vines ready to grab any living prey they get the chance to.>

You would have liked to say you had no idea why he was looking at you like that while giving the right answer to Professor Sprout, head of the Hufflepuff House and your Herbology teacher, but you actually knew too well that kind of staring.

He was challenging you.

He was looking for a weak spot, a grain of uncertainty, maybe even fear for a possible defeat.

He had no idea who he was trying to mess with.

You smiled, as if encouraging his little, pathetic show, and apparently he gladly reciprocated the gesture with as much fake kindness as yours.

<The Venomous Tentacula diet consists essentially in Chizpurfles, Doxies and humans. Its juices are pois->

<FUCK FUCK FUCK>

Professor Sprout had granted the students the permission to swear only during that particular class. She had looked kind of excited while explaining them the plant they were to study that day was a very dangerous one, and honestly, after having the said study's subject in front of you, you had understood why. The greenhouse back at your home was actually guarded by Venomous Tentaculas, hence why you were particularly fond of those "little" monsters.

But now all you could hear were screams from Hufflepuffs and muffled snickering coming from your fellow Slytherins, all you could see a very panicked teacher trying to keep her cool and an unidentified student (probably a Slytherin) being tossed around by a green, spiky, excited vine.

High pitched voices kept bouncing loudly in your skull, picking at your brain like little annoying bites, the chaos was driving you out of your mind.

You had always preferred silence.

<Diffindo>

In a matter of seconds, everything was quiet once again. As if someone had casted a Full Body-Bind Curse on the entire class, the students were now frozen in their steps, some still gaping, others with their eyes shut so tight they threatened to pop into their skull.

Even the teacher was standing still, shock draining the color out of her gentle face.

Malfoy, though, stood there, unmoved, as motionless as a statue, but finally with something you were dying to see hide behind his placid eyes.

Defeat.

<Oh, oh Merlin! G great job Miss Addams, brilliant thinking! Ten, no, twenty points to Slytherin!>

At this point in time, while the trembling Slytherin boy was being accompanied to the Hospital Wing by Professor Sprout, a receded vine lied lifeless in front of the tall, young man you just morally slapped right across his stupid face.

You won.

And everyone knew.

________________________________

<Did you see his face? I would pay to watch that scene once again!>

<Yeah, hahahaha, stupid Malfoy! He has no idea what he got himself into! Right Y/n?>

<You're so talented, bloody hell! I couldn't cast a spell that fast for my own life!>

<Yeah Y/n, you're just too good!>

<One galleon you could defeat Dumbledore himself!>

There they were.

<Out.>

Your silky voice rang in the almost empty Slytherin Common Room, making the little group that had gathered around you vanish like smoke in air.

Flies.

Maybe that was the reason why the Malfoy brat intrigued you to that extent.

He was a challenge, not an easy bet.

The dark-haired Slytherin had stormed out the Greenhouse like a hurricane a couple of hours ago and you hadn't heard from him since then. Next class was canceled due to the teacher's "personal reasons", so the Slytherin and Ravenclaw students were left to themselves with a lot of free time. The clever ones retreated to the Library, to catch up whit the massive amount of work the professors had kindly drowned you all with, the stupid ones were out, bathing in the little sun October was blessing Hogwarts' grounds with. So, moral of the story, you were bored to death. Having reviewed today's lessons yesterday and Malfoy nowhere to be seen, you were left with nothing to do but read. Again. The same books you had already finished at home.

Ugh.

You shut the book close and sighed. It wouldn't work.

As soon as you stood up, you heard other students coming down from their dormitories, so you quickly turned to the Common Room's exit and made your way into the school's busy corridors. You had always been the silent type, the solitary one, and from a certain point of view, you had to. From a young age, your family had taught you to mistrust every person you were to get to know in your life, but honestly speaking it didn't bother you keeping a distance from others. Once alone, you could let your mind wander and go to a different place, far away from Hogwarts, from what you called home. You'd always wondered if a place like that was real, if somewhere in the world you would ever have the chance to allow yourself to relax a little bit, let your guard down and maybe laugh genuinely to the twins stupid pranks.

<Thinking about us, were you, gorgeous?>

Speaking of the devil.

<I'm always thinking about you, guys. What do you have for me today?>

As always, they each grabbed you by one of your arms and gently dragged you in a quiet place, unnoticed by curious eyes.

<Rumors say the first task has something to do with dragons>

Fred started, as excited as always.

<They'll probably end up protecting something that the participants will have to retrieve. Wicked, right?>

George finished, with a big grin on his face.

There was something special about them, you just couldn't let the thought of the two happy behavior out of your mind. You could say that interacting with them was your secret, little guilty pleasure, but no one had to know, right?

Their laughs and silliness were just contagious.

<Thank you guys, as always>

<Anything for you, Smalls!>

As the twins answered in unison, you shook your head smiling. A tiny, minuscule but luckily restrained part of yourself wanted to keep the money, just a little more, just to talk to them for a bit, but your Addams self immediately handed the brothers their two galleons with the simplest and most polite smile you had. Next thing you know they're hugging you before sprinting away full speed, as if scared you'd curse them, but giggling cheerfully, as their usual, jolly selves.

What a strange duo.

Your favorite one, though.

Carried by your feet, you headed to the Black Lake without a second thought. Knowing the path by heart meant you had to pay no attention to wherever you were going, therefore you could focus on the newly acquired information. Dragons, mh? Interesting.

Who in the Wizarding World had the magnificent idea of letting seventeen years old students deal with freaking dragons?

Guess your father was right about the Ministry being just an overrated, overly-powerful and overly-paid coven of incompetent clowns.

"What a huge waste of time"

The voice in your head sounded uninterested and almost soulless in your ears, a most accurate reflection of what was repeatedly going on in that beautiful mind of yours. Words echoed undefined in your brain, racing around like brooms gone mad. Nonetheless, they melted in a clear whisper, almost comforting your craved loneliness.

E/c eyes quickly glanced around, immediately spotting the still missing presence of the pale brat, now outstandingly deafening in an eerie, heavy way. Not once you had graced someone witch such attention, and even if in that case it was justified and most certainly not a good thing, it unnerved your usually calm self finding your mind wondering where the heck he was or what the bloody hell he was doing.

Was it something you could do better? Was it a place you knew better?

Whatever was going on between you two, though, did have a name.

It was a game.

The prize? Power.

<Come on, tell her!>

<No, you tell her!>

<It was your idea, not mine!>

First years. Sometimes you forgot you were a prefect, and moments like that made sure to rimind you of your duties. Your thoughts faded into an impending headache and you could do nothing but discreetly massage your temple with one hand, while patiently waiting for the three kids to take some courage and grow the guts to call you.

After ten more, long minutes of arguing, finally the little blonde girl in the middle stepped forward and grabbed you by your robe.

<M miss Addams!>

You gently swirled around, letting your uniform slide in a delicate way out of the little creature's hand.

<Yes, my dear?>

<I, uh->

<Peeves stole our books!>

<Yes, he did! We have Potions next, Snape will eat us alive!>

<Please help us!>

You could almost laugh at the expression the little slytherin girl had on her cute bronze face. Her amber eyes were trying to strangle the two boys with way too explicit effort, and her perfectly tamed hair bounced on her warm cheeks whenever she shook her head from side to side, disappointed in her friends' childish behavior.

Ah, younglings.

<Did you see where he went?>

<Yes miss, that way>

Your eyes followed her thin hand, which was now pointing to the stairs.

<Very well, wait here, I'll be back in a minute>

Not wasting any more time, you turned on your heels and reached the first floor in less than it should have taken. When Peeves locked eyes with you, his ever present grin contorted into pure horror, and in a moment of overwhelming panic he sprinted forward, even faster than usual. You had to follow the poltergeist to the second floor, chasing him through the corridors like a wolf after his bleeding prey.

He knew far too well that if you were to raise your voice, he would've been doomed.

<PEEVES.>

Well, shit.

<Miss Addams! Oh dear me, wh- >

<The books, Peeves.>

<Books? Peeves doesn't know wh- >

Oh, how you despised his stupid voice.

You straightened yourself and placed your hands behind your back. Taking a frighteningly stern aura, you rose your chin high, as if silently judging the being in front of you and already sentencing your prey's imminent end.

<As much as I would love to take my time and teach you your place, Peeves, I'm afraid there's not enough time for the lesson I have in mind. Now, I suggest you return the stolen books in this exact moment before I lose my cool again.>

Memories from the girl's first year flashed before the ghost's disembodied eyes and fear took over him, leading his jester self to drop the books to the ground and fly away as fast as his lifeless body could.

The three text books moved from the cold stone floor and neatly stacked themselves under your eyes' will, just to float up middle air and reach your arms, where they gently let their weight go and settled down.

While turning around, your brain managed to register someone's silhouette slide into the girl's bathroom and given your position, you were morally obligated to check, after all classes were just about to start.

And you would've fulfilled your role, if it weren't for the figure now standing in front of you, a black cloak blocking your vision.

<Addams.>

<Professor Snape.>

If it was possible, the corridors fell even more silent, and the man a few feet away from you, right beside the bathroom entrance, brought back to your mind the main reason you were spacing out in the middle of the hall. You locked eyes with the teacher for a never ending minute, a wordless exchange that ended up in the two of you parting your ways in complete silence.

___________________________________

After returning the books to the now little bundles of joy, you got back to your journey towards the Black Lake, brain still stuck in the second floor's corridor, on the semblance of a person entering the girls bathrooms.

First of all, Professor Snape had seemed to not notice anyone in there. He was standing right in front of the door but not once he looked that way, so whoever entered didn't want to be seen.

Addams shouldn't put their nose into others businesses.

But that definitely smelled like something suspicious.

Very suspicious.

Especially because the glimpse of a shadow you had taken was the one of a guy.

You had finally reached the lake without even realizing it. Sitting under what you had adopted as your own tree, you mindlessly took you Charms text book out of your robes. Your eyes, though, were full of the scene that kept on tormenting your restless mind and millions of questions started blossoming in your head. You began to make assumptions and plans to solve the question as soon as possible, to let your brain go of the itching sensation the odd coincidence had layed on it. Your eyes lost focus, and as the world around you melted into blurred colors, you fell in your little world, only to be suddenly brought back by a familiar, wheezy voice, almost an inaudible hiss.

<My dear...>

Your hand automatically shut the book it was holding closed, your mind now empty and focused only on the voice's source.

<Lord Voldemort, I was waiting for you>

-----------------------------------------------

@simp027

@reneuv

[uglypastels]

oooooo Waterloo with Tom????

 This song, in a semi-explainable way, gave me frat!tom vibes so enjoy Not full smut but its a bit dirty lol

> Spotify Wrapped Blurbs

Song: #19 - Waterloo

 by ABBA _______________________________

When you had agreed with your history professor to give on of your classmates some extra help in exchange for some small amount of extra credits, you had hoped it would be one of your friends (who you knew was also struggling with the material). Or, at least you had hoped that the person would not be a completely lost cause. It turned out the be the exact opposite. 

You were assigned to help no one else but Tom Holland. Fuck boy supreme. You had never seen him pay any sort of attention to the lectures or the seminars, so it was no wonder he was failing the course. You didn’t even want to help him. Especially since he had been trying to flirt with you ever since you had made the mistake to make eye contact with him first day of the term. He always tried to chat you up, even though you told him many times you were not interested. 

That, of course, was a lie. He was the hottest guy on campus, so obviously he had made his bed in your rent-free mind. But you could not give him the satisfaction. Never. That was the hill you were gonna die on. 

And it still was when you were in the library. Putting some books about Napoleon back on the shelf. When you glanced over to your table, you saw that Tom had abandoned ship, typical. 

“Hey,” you heard a whisper to your right, making you jump and drop a few books on the ground. 

“Fucking hell, Tom,” you hissed and picked them up quickly before the librarian could scold at you for being disruptive. You did it quickly, not giving Tom the opportunity to look at your ass. You sighed, however, when you realised that one of the books was meant on the highest shelf. 

“Oh, let me help you with that,” He said. You were about to thank him, for the surprising helpfulness, but instead of taking the book himself, he picked you up by the hips and pulled you up so you could reach the highest shelf. You put the book back. 

“You can put me down now, thanks,”  you said, sternly. So, he did, also turning you to face him, but his hands never left your waist. You were locked between him and the large bookcase. 

“It’s so cute how you try to fight it, you know.” He smirked. His eyes wandered to your lips. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you asked, ignoring that hot feeling in your abdomen. 

“Right, like I don’t see the fucking filthy looks you give me when you think I’m not paying attention.” It’s just frustration, you told yourself. “Or how you always cross your legs, huh, bet you’re getting soaked just sitting there next to me.” 

“I guess you’ve never won much with those bets of yours,” you tried to play it cool, but the heat rising through your body when you felt his breath on your neck made it particularly hard. 

You looked into his eyes, big mistake, their soft brown tone was filled with nothing but lust. This was the final battle between you, wasn’t it. You had to be strong to win- but did you have to? Thinking about what you could get it you just gave up this fight and gave into him. Maybe losing could feel like winning either way. 

“I’d like to take my chances.” He said, “of course, it’s fairly easy to see if I’d win.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Kiss me,” he said, right against your ear. You felt his lips against your earlobe and it sent shivers up your spine. 

“No.” wouldn’t it be so much greater though, if you did manage to win from him? 

“Suit yourself. I’m not the one to push,” he smiled, stepping away. Suddenly you felt an emptiness in you, where his hands had been on your body. “But we both know this has only been going on for as long as it has because we both liked it. One more than the other.” He meant you. It was obvious. Oh, how he knew how to push your buttons. 

The fight was long over, you had the white flag pretty much in your hand, but you didn’t want to pull it up just yet. How could you make him make the first move?