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lnfours · 1 year

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sideline (one) | t.h

summary -> tom holland: the name thats always floating around campus, and for good reason. he’s the captain of the hockey team, he’s good looking, and he’s always caught up in an off and on again relationship with the president of the sorority. that’s where you come in. you two had made a deal to make your exes jealous, but we all know how fake relationships end.

wc -> an introductory 3.1k :)

warnings -> mentions of being cheated on, drinking, and language.

🎵 spotify playlist | 📖 prev/next chapter | 📂 masterlist

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summer had gone by in a blink of an eye, and before you knew it, it was fall. the start of junior year, the second to last year of your college education. the year where almost everyone starts to realize ‘oh, this shit is real’ and really whip themselves into shape.

you had gotten back to your off campus house before your two other roommates. you had met the two other girls you now call best friends during your freshman year. there was sarah, who was your roommate your first year, and mia, who was your neighbor in the dorms.

you enjoyed being the first one to the house. you could move in your stuff peacefully without having the other girl’s stuff in the way. plus, you could play music as loud as you wanted to. that is, with the exception of the open window and the other students looking up towards your room whenever they walked by.

and of course, just like it was last year, once the others girls arrived: chaos ensued.

“oh my god, the hockey team is throwing a party tonight,” mia practically yelled from the kitchen, “we have to go!”

mia was the wild child, the party animal out of the three of you. sarah was a lot more like you, someone who would rather stay at home and watch a good movie than go out to a party. however, over the past couple semesters, mia has gotten you more out of your shell.

which she may or may not take a little for granted on some occasions.

you shook your head, “hell no.”

“why not?” she frowned. you rolled your eyes.

“because if the hockey team is throwing a party then you know, about 99.9% of the time, taylor and her posse are gonna be there.”

taylor harrison, the president of the sorority and the literal definition of daddy’s money. she's the type of girl who gets what she wants when she wants it, and if she doesn't then all hell brakes loose.

it didn't help that she was the girl every guy had their eye on. the girl, that for some reason, every girl wanted to be approved by her and be her friend. you couldn't understand why someone would want to get sucked into her toxic, little circle.

“besides,” you shrugged, “jack and i have plans.”

the two other girls sent you playful looks, “plans?”

“oh, shut up.”

jack had been your boyfriend since the beginning of last year. the two of you were in the same class, he sat next to you and the rest is history. it was cliche and something that happens to everyone, but you could tell that it was different with him.

“well then,” mia sighed, looking over at sarah, “i guess you’re forced into going to the party this time.”

sarah groaned, “seriously? there’s a new episode of drag race i need to watch.”

mia gave her a look, “i’ll buy you coffee for a week.”

sarah rolled her eyes before looking back over at you, watching as you slowly backed away from the conversation, “you owe me.”

you laughed, hand on the knob to the front door, “sorry! gotta go!”

you quickly left the house before you were convinced to skip out on jack and go to the party too. you made your way towards the campus apartment buildings, giving small smiles to a couple of the familiar faces that passed you. you had made your way through the group of people in the quad, going inside the building and heading for the stairs.

you reached his apartment door and knocked, but there was no answer. you waited a couple seconds as you heard shuffling from the other side of the door.

you knocked again, “jack?”

with no answer yet again, you reached for the door knob and turned it slowly, but you wish you hadn’t. you watched as a red headed girl held her shirt up, covering her chest and as jack froze in place in front of the door, shirtless with hickeys littering his collarbone.

you didn't know what to say, or how to react as the girl turned around and put her shirt on.

“y/n, baby, this isn’t what it looks like-“

you cut him off with a hard slap across his face. the red headed girl gasped quietly. you sent her a look.

“don’t you have somewhere to be?”

she gathered her things quickly before talking to jack before she pushed past you, “i’ll call you?”

he didn’t answer her, just stood there looking at you. you watched her leave as she quickly made her way towards the staircase at the end of the hall, disappearing behind other people.

“how could you?” you asked, your voice breaking as tears threatened to spill over your eyes.

“i’m sorry-“

“don't,” you mumbled, “we’re done.”

he watched as you turned away from him, walking towards the stairs. you ignored his calls to come back as tears spilled out of your eyes and onto the tile of the hallway.

you took out your phone, sending a text to the groupchat with mia and sarah.

y/n change of plans, not going to jacks. you guys at the party yet?

sarah unfortunately what happened with jack?

y/n ill explain when i get there

mia YAY Y/NS COMING TO THE PARTY!!!

you locked your phone, shoving it into the back pocket of your jeans as you made your way towards the house party. most of the guys on the hockey team had done the same thing as you and your friends, they had decided to share a house off campus. it was the hotspot for all the parties and they were known to throw the best of them.

you walked up the path, people sitting outside with drinks in their hands as music boomed from inside the house. you made your way through the door, looking for sarah and mia, but they were nowhere to be found.

you sighed, making your way to the kitchen instead. you went through the different alcohols and mixed up some kind of concoction into your cup, gulping it down before reaching for another alcohol. you poured a heavy amount, someone walking into the kitchen and coming up next to you, grabbing a can of soda.

“damn, rough day?”

you instantly knew that accent. tom holland. the captain of the hockey team, the hottest guy on campus.

and taylor harrington’s boyfriend. or ex boyfriend. it really depended on how she felt that day.

“you could say that.”

he watched as you mixed the vodka with a can of soda. you didn’t tense at his gaze, didn’t immediately want to keep his interest. but something about you made his eyes linger a little longer than he would’ve done with anyone else.

“you alright?” he asked, still watching as you sipped the drink from your cup. you made eye contact this time, nodding as you swallowed.

“not really, but it’s not like you necessarily care, right?”

you didn’t mean to sound like an ass, but you really didn’t want to deal with taylor’s bitching if she saw you talking to tom. you were pretty sure that if she were to say something to you right now, you’d rip the overpriced extensions out of her bleach blonde head.

“i mean if you’re upset about something, i think it’s best if you talk about it. especially ‘cause it looks like you’ve been crying.”

why's he so nice?

“and what? talk to you about my problems? no thanks.”

he shrugged, leaning against the counter, “can’t say i didn’t try.”

you took another sip before looking back at him. you didn’t mean for your eyes to linger around his jawline, but god he was hot. any girl, or guy, would say the same thing. he was easy on the eyes, extremely good at his sport and he got near perfect grades. he literally checked all the boxes.

that’s when you noticed something was missing, “where’s your barbie girlfriend and her minions?”

he laughed, “not a clue, could care less to be honest with you.”

you raised an eyebrow, “what? did she break up with you for the 30th time today because you didn’t get her a chanel bag?”

he smiled, “nah, i broke up with her. caught her sleeping with this other guy.”

your eyes widened, mentally cursing yourself for being such a dick, “oh, uhm- i’m sorry.”

“no, it’s okay-“

“it’s not, because i know what it feels like,” you said, your eyes meeting his brown ones, “it sucks.”

“how long ago, if you don’t mind me asking?”

you looked down at your phone, glancing at the time, “about forty-five minutes ago.”

his eyes widened softly, “shit, i’m sorry.”

you shrugged, “what can you do, right?”

he nodded, “suppose you’re right.”

it was quiet for a couple seconds before he spoke up again, “is there a part of you that kinda wants them to be jealous? like see you with someone else and be like ‘damn, i shouldn’t have fucked that up’? or is it just me?”

you thought about it for a second. thought about the look on jack’s face if he were to see you with someone else, if he would even react. you thought about rubbing it into his face that you found someone better, someone who would never betray your trust.

“yeah,” you nodded, “now that you mention it.”

your conversion was interrupted when mia and sarah made their way into the kitchen, “y/n! there you are!”

you smiled at sarah, clearly seeing a very drunk mia.

“hey,” sarah said, “so what happened with jack?”

“it’s a long story, i’ll explain later,” you said, grabbing the bottle of tequila out of mia’s hands, “let’s put that down, yeah?”

“but ‘m not even drunk!” you were surprised you were able to make out the sentence from how slurred her words were.

you chuckled, “trust me, you are,” you looked over at sarah, “we should head back to the house.”

she nodded back at you, agreeing. tom spoke up once again, “hey, i could give you guys a ride back to your house.”

you waved him off, smiling politely, “no, it’s okay. it’s not that far of a walk.”

“no, no, i insist,” he said, fishing his keys out of his pocket, “just tell me how to get there.”

you looked at him, “you’re sober?”

“yeah,” he said, “i don’t really drink.”

you nodded to him, knowing he wouldn’t take no for an answer. you let sarah and mia walk in front of you, tom on your left. he walked up to a group of guys that you assumed to be his house and teammates.

“hey, i’ll be back in a little.”

“sounds good, man.”

he nodded towards the door, placing his hand on the small of your back to lead you through the crowd. as you pushed through with tom following behind, you noticed the looks that got thrown your way.

of course everyone’s eyes were on you, you were walking with tom holland, who had his hand on your back. of course it looked a little bit conspicuous to anyone who was watching.

once you were outside, he unlocked the audi that was sitting in the driveway, mia and sarah filing into the backseat as you climbed into the passenger side.

“so, where to, ladies?”

“we’re on lincoln, in one of the off campus houses.” sarah said, letting mia lean her head on her shoulder.

he nodded, putting the car in reverse. the music softly playing from the speakers as you found yourself staring out the window, losing yourself in thought as tom made small conversation with sarah in the back.

“hey,” his voice directed towards you as it pulled you out of your train of thought, “you alright?”

you looked over at him, sending him a tight lipped smile and a nod, “yeah.”

“you sure?” he looked back over at you before looking at the road in front of him, “you’re not a very good liar.”

you sighed, “just thinking about what you mentioned earlier, you know the whole ‘making my shitty ex jealous’ thing.”

he nodded, “yeah, it’s just the coming up with something that would bother them that’s the hard part.”

you nodded in agreement, looking back out the window. you started thinking of ways that you could make it look like you were doing so much better than jack, something that would instantly make him regret cheating on you.

that’s when it hit you.

“a fake relationship!” you said, tom’s attention turning back to you.

his eyebrows were furrowed, “what?”

“you know, get into a fake relationship with someone. you go out and pretend that the two of you are dating, the other person would obviously know it’s fake, and the both of you could benefit from the ‘relationship’. the best thing about it is that no one else would know you're not together, only the two of you.”

he nodded, “doesn’t sound like a bad idea.”

“of course it doesn’t, because i came up with it,” you smirked, “and i’m the mastermind.”

he let out a chuckle as you pointed to your house, telling him he could just pull up in front of it. he did as you had asked, pulling in front of the house and unlocking the doors so the three of you could get out.

“thanks for the ride, tom!” sarah smiled, helping mia out of the car as she led her towards the house.

“anytime.”

you watched your roommates from where you were standing by the open car door. once you saw they were inside, you looked back at him.

“thanks for letting me vent,” you smiled, “and for the ride, too,” you tucked a piece of hair behind your hair as the wind softly blew it in front of your face, "you know, she really ruined your reputation."

he smiled from the drivers side, “i’ve heard that more than you think.”

you smiled back, “thanks again.”

“always.”

you closed the door to the car softly, making your way to the front door. you had noticed he stayed in the car, making sure you made it to the door okay. you sent him a small wave as you closed the door, locking it and turning off the outside light.

you leaned up against the wooden frame, looking back at your grinning roommates, “what?”

“tom freaking holland just drove us home because of you!” mia said, “how did that even happen?!”

you rolled your eyes, “nothing happened. nothings happening, okay? we’re just in the same situation.”

“oh, yeah,” sarah said as you made your way into the kitchen, “what happened with jack?”

you took a deep breath as you grabbed a water bottle, the two girls anxiously waiting for you to tell them why you were so upset.

“i uh, i went over to his apartment and he was fucking another girl,” you said, both of their mouths dropping open, “and i broke up with him.”

“i’m so sorry,” mia said, “he didn’t deserve you.”

“what a dick!” sarah rolled her eyes, both of the girls walking over and wrapping you in a group hug, “we love you.”

you smiled, “i love you guys.”

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“what, so are they broken up or are they dating still?” you asked, watching whatever reality show sarah had put on the living room tv. she shrugged her shoulders.

“not really sure.”

“if i was her, i’d break up with him.” mia said from her side of the couch. sarah nodded her head, pointing at her as a silent way of saying she made a point.

there was a knock on the door, pulling all of you away from the show. you got up from your seat, putting your drink down, “i got it.”

you walked over to the front door, unlocking it as you peeked open the door. you opened it the rest of the way as you smiled at the brunette boy in front of you.

“stalker much?” you joked and he let out a soft laugh.

“hello to you, too,” he joked back at you, “do you have a minute? i uh... have to talk to you about something.”

you nodded, letting him inside the house. sarah and mia watched from the living room, eyebrows raised as you shut the door.

“hey, tom!”

he smiled back at the girls in the living room, sending them a small wave as they sent you a look. you waved your hand in front of your neck, telling them to cut it out.

“we’re going upstairs.” you grabbed tom’s arm, pulling him away from the looks your friends were sending. he followed you up the wooden steps and into your room. he looked around at your room as you closed the door.

you sat cris-cross on the bed, waving towards the desk chair and the bed, “you can sit wherever.”

he nodded, opting for the desk chair, “thanks.”

you sent him a soft smile, “so, what’s up?”

“so, i’ve been thinking about what you said in the car last night, the whole ‘fake dating’ thing,” he started, taking a pause to make sure you understood what he was talking about. when you nodded, he continued, “what if we 'fake-dated' each other? i mean, i know it’s kind of crazy beings we barely know each other, but you said it’s better to choose someone who knows it’s fake and someone who could also benefit from it. plus, you said you wanted to make your ex jealous too. you check all of the boxes.”

you raised an eyebrow, “i… i uh-“

“i know, i'm sorry to just kind of throw it all onto you at once, but i’ve been thinking about it since last night. i mean, you are the mastermind, right?” he smirked and you rolled your eyes playfully.

at the end of the day, how bad could it be?

“what if i say no?”

he was silent for a second, “i didn’t really think you’d be opposed.”

you let out a sigh, why am i doing this?

“okay, fine, you have a deal,” you extended your hand out for him to shake, when he reached for it, you pulled your hand back. he shot you a confused look.

“however, we’re doing it by my rules.”

he shook your hand, “deal.”

you pointed to the notepad and the pen on your desk, “can you hand me that, please?”

he nodded, grabbing the paper and pen off the desk. you turned to a blank page, writing at the top of the page.

fake dating rules:

“okay, number one,” you said, tapping the pen against the notebook as you thought about the first rule. when it came to your mind, you immediately started writing it down, “no strings attached. this is simply just to get back at our shitty exes.”

he nodded, “oh, you have to come to my games and the hockey team parties. gotta make it look like you’re an actual supportive girlfriend.”

"the games i'm alright with, but the parties?" you scrunched your face up. he gave you a look, but softened when he came to an agreement.

"okay, not all of them, but most of them."

you rolled your eyes, "fine."

you wrote down what he said as rule number two, “anything else?”

“one ‘date’ per week. we get to know more about each other so it doesn’t seem suspicious to anyone we talk to about our ‘relationship’.”

you wrote it down, adding the last rule in all capital letters and underlined it, “no one knows it’s a fake relationship. absolutely no one.”

he nodded in agreement, watching as you made makeshift signature lines. you passed him the notebook as he let out a soft laugh, taking the pen from your grip. he signed on his line, your signature going next to his.

“so it’s settled, girlfriend.” you smiled, “it’s settled, boyfriend.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

💌 beings my tagged list has gotten so long that tumblr literally won't let me add it, the tagged list is temporarily closed until i can figure it out. in the meantime, be sure to follow and turn on notifications for @toms-gf to be notified whenever i post imagines :)

xoxo, jordan

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roseduroi · 2 years

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When the Darkness Fell, iv rose

mob!tom holland x reader

part iii.

“She won’t disappear just because you’re a second away.”

“I know that.” Tom grumps out, it’s always that nasty feeling on the tip of the tongue when he feels as if admitting there’s more to a shelled man than he lets on. He’s stuck like the filthy gum glued to the shoe with her and he can’t help but feel at fault that everything is shit. There doesn’t seem a way outta that painful nibbling feeling that pulls at him to the depths of non-existing sentiments for her when the doctor points out his fondness, leading to attachment.

It’s irritating.

He has nothing figured out and it drives him up the wall. His fists curl up so tight the knuckles turn the shade of white and he feels how anger pulses through his veins as his whole essence just itches to let it out.

“Where’s Bader?”

Tom suddenly asks, forgetting where the young doctor was heading with the conversation.

“I don’t think beating the guy to a pulp would be wise of you this instant.”

Tom is clueless why his heart is so jumpy as non-existing feelings pull him to Y/N.

iv.

“I need a favour.”

“I feel like I’m a little bit too drunk for that.”

Tom sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose and briefly closes his eyes. The cold bites his bare hands as the harsh winds sweep through his jacket. He paces back and forth in the backyard of his home as dark skies above him cover the night’s blank stars.

The sun is starting to set. What a chaotic day Tom would say, not that it was unusual for him, just… perhaps different in a way that made his heart stir. The days are short now, everything gets darker and darker; some curse it, some find joy in it. Tom is of those who aren’t bothered by the dimness of the night, finding peace within it rather than only seeing chaos among the lack of rays when the sun is set.

Consider him a fool or just a random guy who seeks comfort in the dark.

“It’s hurried.” There is a hint of annoyance in his voice as he speaks to the man over the phone. He wouldn’t push if it wasn’t that hurried.

He hears distant laughter, chatters of strangers in the background, and then the door opening and closing until eventually, all the voices fade away in the far distance. It’s not hard to guess where his best mate is; the bar music far too familiar to his ears.

“But it’s my day off today- ow! What was that for?” Harrison whines as his companion, Tom assumes, swats him on the arm.

“Sup, Boss!” He hears Maliza greet him. “Whatcha need?”

In different circumstances, Tom would laugh, chuckle at them but his thoughts are way too busy to let him slack off, pushing him to the edge, to the limits he doesn’t have. He knows he has given them a day off but this is more important. He wouldn’t be asking if it wasn’t so urgent. “There is an unconscious body and I need you to take care of it.” He is blunt, but there’s nothing to hide. Though his words are hushed, they are careful of the people who might hear. You never know who is listening; you never know whom not to trust.

Yet Harrison and Maliza are some of the most trustworthy people Tom knows. His neighbourhood, where he stayed occasionally, is rather quiet too. People around here were simple. Simple, large or medium families were just living and minding their own business. That old couple just around the corner. That old elderly lady with her sick daughter just down Smith’s street. Some aunties and uncles, and that mailman, never scared of the old couple’s dog. The neighbourhood is certainly tranquil.

Maybe the tranquil that lured him here, that what it was.

A few years back he met Maliza through Harrison whom he knew his whole life. She saved his best mate from the very, oh-so-terrifying flu. That day Harrison was smitten with the doctor in white, and the hospital’s door never stopped opening that week. Harrison just kept coming back. Then it turned out she perfectly handles a rifle, and to this day she’s one of the best of Tom’s people.

When Tom looks at the couple, every time something stirs within his ribcage, it fastens his heartbeat. It’s odd, the feeling so unfamiliar it adds to the goosebumps already over his skin when the couple holds hands or Maliza wraps the ribbed scarf around Harrison’s bare neck when the harsh winds sweep under their coats. What was that nonsense that forced his blood to pulse more rapidly if this all was bullock? Jealous was a bitter word Tom refused to use. In other words, Maliza wasn’t his type and he knew Harrison ever since they were in diapers. He simply was not interested in what they did behind closed doors, but perhaps jealousy did play a part in making his heart pound faster.

Something ached he didn’t know could even hurt. Envy of a feeling that wasn’t his to own left a wicked twist inside his bones.

They completed each other, and Tom only was half of a heart.

“You want what now?” The male gasps and drags Tom out of his misery thoughts.

The misty cloud of tiny droplets of water appears before the very man who drags the words out his throat. “It’s complicated.”

But it really isn’t that much, to be honest.

“It’s that Bader guy, isn’t it?” Maliza intervenes, proving just that. Clearly, she’s the sober one here, having connected the dots quickly.

He nods. He knows they can’t see it. “Yeah,” so he adds, providing a short but clear response, displaying no other sign of wishing on continuing further. “I’ll send the address.”

“Got it, Boss,” Maliza answers for both, calling him the nickname once more that she had given him all these years back when they stormed in that abandoned fabric.

“And.” Tom purses his lips. “I need you to stop by and check in on her. And maybe grab some of her clothes too. Warmer ones if you might.” Tom says. He kicks the dirty, frost-bound ground, the same ground beneath him that was more sturdy than his heart. Hilarious how one name can make a man like him fidget like a teenager in love.

But the days are getting colder and the frost - like the fine artist it is - carves the shapes of leaves and petals on its own chosen sheet in early mornings, traces the edges- and Tom (along with many others) will have to scrape off the ice of his windshields because he doesn’t have a garage. The shortage of time in daylight will convert the lifeless autumn trees into Christmas decorations, lining up forgotten alleys and avenues with lights and carols. The spirits will awaken and Tom…

Tom is just done with that time of year.

“Yeah. No.” Harrison hiccups on the phone. “I don’t want to lose my hand just because I went through your love life’s underwear drawer.”

But Tom would never.

“Harrison.”

He wouldn’t.

“To-Am.” He hiccups.

Right?

“Fine.” He knows Tom would never. “Just know it’s Maliza’s hand.” But he takes a necessary precaution; being drunk that is.

Tom hears the sound of a car unlocking. He guesses Maliza’s driving and he hangs up the phone without saying anything further. His fingers are red, hands insensitive to the bitter cold, but he struggles to type the message.

She didn’t want to talk to him, Tom admitted that through clenched teeth a couple of hours ago when he tried to open the door. Which was locked. Which she locked after the incident. Which was locked because he was deemed unreliable. Which ended up bothering him quite a great deal.

He even made her a sandwich.

And he let that Bader guy punch him for being an arse, for having let the emotions get the better of him. Tom was an impatient man as much as he was possessive, and sometimes these features never got along. She wasn’t his and neither is she now. But a part of him wished so if he was truthful with himself. That day when he accompanied her, he thought he felt something stir in his heart, a feeling he had never once believed to be true. But after all their encounters and those lightsome banters in between, and after seeing her stare at the moon like it was the sun after late-night shifts at the cafe of Ben’s, Tom felt attached like a child needy for a toy. His primitive beliefs came crashing down, they collapsed to his feet like steadfast soldiers falling for their country. Didn’t matter how much he tried to fight them, those bastard sentiments for her; they blinded his vision, tricked his mind and bound his will, but they got to his heart.

She got to his heart.

That’s how much of a fool he was.

Tom winces at the faint bruising on his cheek as the water hits his face; he tries to wash the day’s heaviness and burdens under the cooling water, splashing it all over his face. Bader did pack a hefty punch and Tom could clearly feel it now, he also isn’t ashamed to admit it. Sheer power didn’t correlate to how much force one could wield, but rather the ability to see one’s faults that come within it. Back then it didn’t matter how much the blow hurt, his feelings were overcoming him; it only made him stay alert.

The bruising on his cheek is reddish now, indicating it’s fresh as the skin under his eye throbs, tender to the touch.

But somewhat the blow doesn’t feel enough. The pain he feels absorbing his cheek doesn’t compare to the weightiness of the heart as sourly he wishes it would. He cleans his face with a towel, careful around his bruised cheek and when he walks out of the bathroom, Tom’s gaze instantly falls on the locked door to his room, where Y/N is.

His body aches to turn around and knock, maybe his heart even cries for him to write a cheesy letter and slip it under the door just for her to read how past hope he is to earn her forgiveness, like in the sappy movies he would never watch. But his muscles resist as his glance catches a glimpse of the sandwich he previously made. Tom’s too arrogant and proud.

He remembers they would bicker about this personality trait of his, too.

“Being arrogant won’t get you anywhere, you know.”

“Would you look at that now,” Tom answers her, smugly raising an eyebrow. “I’m talking to you, aren’t I?”

“This is different.”

“How come?” The brunette challenges, speeding up his steps to pass the girl. He stops right before so suddenly she halts in her footing and almost trips over her feet as they tangle together to stop her from bumping into his chest. He cockily smirks.

“You simply obsess over me.” He hears her say after a heartbeat of silence and chuckles, putting his hands in his pockets.

“Look who is being cocky now.”

“Not at all. You love being talked about. And this just proves my point I just stroked your ego.” The girl emphasises, knowingly bumping his shoulder as she then passes him. “You think you’re mighty because strangely people fear this short man. You put on this false charm, but beneath it exists some cruelty. And arrogantly you think I will swoon over you like those past girls because you’ve decided to give a poor girl her 15 minutes of fame. I’m not going to fall for that.”

It was one of their first encounters together.

It was during one of those many late-night shifts he would accompany her on later in the future. But that night she left him speechless. She perhaps did stroke his ego if not actually damaged it more. They barely knew each other back then; that night was just a couple of weeks after they first met, and Tom would admit, he did embarrassingly torment the poor soul. Maybe not that drastically, but he did happen to be given coffee at all those same times, at that same cafe Y/N happened to work. AND surely during her work hours. He was truly an intrigued guy, indeed.

So, one night after he finished dealing with his work related-once-in-a-lifetime-not-involving-anything-filthy-kind-of-business in Ben’s cafe - paperwork, Jesus - the clock had been ticking past twelve, his coffee had been long consumed and the dirty cup had been already taken away by a tidying waitress (Y/N for that) ready to close, but Tom was already one jump ahead, resisting to leave. He had insisted on accompanying her to whatever-she-was-heading. He didn’t know back then and he had never been entirely too sure where to she was headed until eventually he had found himself actually on her good side and she’d told him.

Y/N intrigued him, she challenged him like nobody else did and he wouldn’t have it any other way around. In a sense, she saw right through him. She saw the things he wanted her to see and she saw more beyond what he wished she wouldn’t. But he had finally felt normal and nothing else had mattered after. She talked to him naturally without feeling on edge around him.

And yet, he failed to see through her, who she was coming home to.

So maybe, in the end, he was going to knock on those damn doors for the tenth time this day and MAYBE he wasn’t going to bolt the second his knuckles touch the surface and he doesn’t receive a response in a mere second. Maybe because he owed it to her. Because he really ought to for her.

Instead, a sharp knock on the front door scourged right through his heart.

Harrison

He really should stop getting distracted. One of those days it will get him killed.

Tom walks over to the entrance and slams the doors open. Ahead there’s Maliza with a bag of clothes next to the entrance and further on a barely steady Harrison metres away with his grasp tight on the fence.

“Hi, Boss.” The young woman greets.

He hardly nods her way, though, stepping aside to let her in. His eyes are on Harrison, warily observing over the mate, and then glances back at her.

“Oh, don’t worry about him. He’s just had one too many. Tried to make his way to the porch, but… yeah. You know.” She awkwardly chuckles and places the bag of clothes on the ground. The girl turns to Tom, tilting her head. She’s inspecting him too, though they both know (and Harrison, too) she isn’t much of a detective.

He half smiles, knowing. “Yeah.” His smile is half sincere.

“Suuuuup, mate!” He hears Harrison slur. The man waves drunkenly at Tom and almost trips over his feet at the sudden and forgotten gravity, pulling on his arm. Tom instantly moves forward to the doorway but halts in his steps midair as if something was holding him.

Y/N

The man frowns, complicated.

“You should help him to the car before he breaks his neck.” Maliza interrupts, sensing his hesitation. “I’ve got her.” She warmly grins, showing off her portable bag stuffed with medicine.

“She doesn’t really talk to me,” Tom admits.

It’s kind of pathetic actually. He’s displaying his emotions, opening up about such a tragedy like not being able to enter his room, his OWN room and it’s mildly annoying that he’s fussing about this girl who’s upset with him. And he still hasn’t figured out why this bothers him so damn much.

“She’s just scared.” Maliza offers. “I know I’m not the doctor of that speciality, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out how traumatic it must have been for her.”

Tom huffs. “You don’t say.”

“I always say.” She smiles, never taking him to heart. “And always scramble all those prescriptions.”

Tom stays silent. His gaze is distant and this is just complicated beyond him or checking over Harrison.

The girl sighs, seeing he’s bestowed to the ground like a solid pillar. “What I’m saying is get some fresh air while I check in on her. She won’t disappear just because you’re a second away.”

“I know that.” Tom grumps out, it’s always that nasty feeling on the tip of the tongue when he feels as if admitting there’s more to a shelled man than he lets on. He’s stuck like the filthy gum glued to the shoe with her and he can’t help but be at fault that everything is chaos. There doesn’t seem a way outta that painful nibbling feeling that pulls at him to the depths of non-existing sentiments for her when the doctor points out his fondness, leading to attachment.

It’s irritating.

Tom suddenly asks, forgetting where the young doctor was heading with the conversation.

“I don’t think beating the guy to a pulp would be wise of you this instant.”

Tom whips around and glares. In a way, he feels infuriated that she dares to speak such things when knowing nothing of it. That man signed his death wish the moment Tom saw him lay his hand on her and harm her. “You know what he did to her?” He snaps as if she cannot understand and the words she spits are poison. “Do you even imagine?”

She only shakes her head in disbelief. “I can’t.” She says it softly because she truly cannot picture fully the caused pain she hasn’t gone through, but it doesn’t mean it’s the lack of sympathy Tom accuses she’s showing. Her heart forever stings, perhaps this is why she’s a goddamn doctor or why Tom’s ways of handling certain matters seem justified to her. Because neglecting a problem isn’t the same as solving it. “But do you think coming back to her with bloody knuckles is gonna make things better? Make her feel less scared?” She hisses in a whisper, firmly standing her ground and keeping her voice unwavering. Her hand ripples through the air as she abruptly waves her finger in his and outdoor direction.

She breathes a heavy breath when Tom’s silent. “Doesn’t matter.” She speaks, straightening herself up. “He’s not here. Sam’s got him. Haz was in no state to handle his own body, let alone another man’s.”

“Fine.”

Tom storms out the instant as the door slams with a thud.

When Maliza calms down and walks over to Tom’s room, nobody greets her when she knocks. The dead silence she is met with is deafening as she awaits. She tries again with a few more knocks, thumping on the door with the back of her hand and with a sigh at the back of her throat.

“Hi,” she tries again. This time introducing. “I’m Maliza. Just like Melissa but with an a… I’m Bo- Tom’s friend. I’m a doctor.” She shifts on her feet, her sentences distant from each other as she’s trying to figure out the words. “He’s worried about you. And you know Tom, he can be very persistent when it comes to the things he wants. I’m here to check up on you.”

By the end of the sentence, Maliza thinks nobody will open the door, no more words float her tongue and she slightly begins to panic at the stillness. Her hand hovers over the door for a second more to knock, but thanks God, there’s no need and she feels a huge rock roll off her chest. She hears the lock pop, and the door slowly opens.

She’s startled at first. One, this is the first time she’s seeing the myth of Harrison’s bragging about why Tom “is truly smitten”. At some point until Tom’s call, she had even begun doubting something she had never seen or heard. And two, the girl’s indisputably gorgeous. Even behind the puffy eyes and hollowness shining in them either from exhaustion or distress which the doctor cannot distinguish between, Y/N looks beautiful.

Maliza sees her cheeks sunken and pallid and senses her tension and she too grows wary at the stability of the girl’s physical state. Sorofly, she looks unhealthy. Unhealthy to the point of collapsing whenever.

Y/N heavily leans on the door, nervously gripping the edges as if she cannot support her own weight when her injured foot touches the ground. She keeps it raised the whole time and there’s no doubt she hides the grimaces of pain.

“Hey,” the girl greets back after a heartbeat of silence.

Maliza is suddenly back in the room when the hoarse whisper harshly pulls her back from observing the girl like a sharp needle, picking at her skin. Her pupils constrict, concentrating over again and she rushes over to Y/N.

“Here, let me help you.” She says.

“I’m okay.”

Her movements are swift when she storms to Y/N’s side, ignoring the girl’s denial of help and her own heavy steps. She curls one arm around the girl’s waist to aid her walk to the bed. She doesn’t push the pace bigger than Y/N could manage and patiently awaits for the girl to adjust, adapting herself to the girl’s footing when she feels Y/N trusting her weight onto her body.

Maliza was sure her touch couldn’t be gentler, only tightening around Y/N’s waist the few times the girl swayed or lost her footing so that they both wouldn’t go tumbling to the ground. But all those times, Maliza could swear she heard a hitch of breath or felt an uncomfortable shift away from tightening grip.

But she remained silent.

The mattress dips as Maliza gently helps Y/N get comfy on the bed and then takes a seat next to her. The girl mutters a thank you but after that, it’s just silence. The stillness is awful. Y/N doesn’t look at her, she doesn’t even pay her any attention. Her shoulders look like the world’s burdens were dropped onto her and everything that was never ever hers was left for her to carry.

When Tom called and she and Harrison were in the bar, the gravity in his voice was far from anything astonishing. Tom always sounded important when things got heavy. It was as if he was suited for giving commands. But today the urgency under the words felt strained and Tom rarely got strained.

“Are you in pain?” Maliza suddenly asks, searching for her eyes which she doesn’t find.

Y/N stills. Her eyes wander everywhere but, “Uh… no,” she shakes her head, frowning a little as if trying to concentrate on feeling any type of pain. “Only when I move my leg.” She answers honestly. It’s better than lying.

Maliza nods. “Might I have a look?”

“Yeah.”

Maliza makes sure to be gentle now too. Her touch is light as she unwraps the neat binding Tom did little by little, trying to be as careful as not to graze the swollen area unnecessarily. She’s quite proud of him as well. She admits, Tom did a pretty good job at bandaging Y/N’s foot. Although, the doctor will never say it out loud. He’s cocky as is.

The skin underneath the binding is harshly swollen and bruised, the bluish and purplish colours over the sprain site mark the torn ligaments. Maliza’s touch feels cool against the bruised area and Y/N almost wants to shrink away at the uncomfortable, almost painful feeling as the doctor slowly examines the damage, gently pressing over certain areas harder than over others. But when Maliza suddenly tilts the ankle to the side, Y/N recoils from her touch like burned.

“Sorry,” the doctor grimaces apologetically. “I just have to examine it.”

The girl nods, relaxing a little. “It’s okay.” She breathes out and stretches out her leg fully again, entrusting. “It’s just… The pain is quite sharp.”

“Yeah,” Maliza agrees, taking her ankle into her grasp once more. She gently gestures over the sprain site under the bone. “See this?”

The girl bows her head a little.

“It means that one or more ligaments in the lateral ligament complex are sprained. It’s actually quite common and usually happens from an accidental twist or turn of the foot. Which also explains the swelling and the limited movement of your ankle.” She explains, lifting her gaze upon the girl. “But I won’t bore you with the aggravating names.”

Maliza laughs quietly, gently lowering Y/N’s foot on the bed. She quickly grabs her portable bag stuffed with medicine that was thrown to the ground at the beginning and she digs through it, searching for a small tube in the mess within it. She grins as she grasps it. “This should help with the swelling and pain. Other than that, rest, ice or compression will be fine too.”

“Most importantly, don’t stress your ankle until the pain and swelling subside. Which means, limited walking, exercises or any other activity which puts pressure on your ankle or it could lead to potential damage. For now, I’m going to apply some gel to ease the pain, it will provide a cooling sensation, so just you know.”

The gel is cold against the bruised area as Maliza spreads it over the tender skin as Y/N feels the cooling sensation tingling over pain. This time she finds comfort within it. Maliza compresses the ankle with the elastic bandage after. She’s way quicker than Tom ever was.

She looks at the doctor and for the first time this whole evening, she truly gets a look at her.

She pictured Maliza just like that. Dark brown hair shaped the young doctor’s face; the wavy bangs covered the softness of her round eyes which Y/N felt could stare right into the depths of the soul. Freckles faintly dotted her cheeks, but she thought it only added to the childishness of her looks, while the blue button-up shirt and the skinny white jeans added to the profession she had chosen.

She really did look like a doctor.

Maybe in another lifetime she and Maliza were friends. She hoped they were.

“Tom cares about you.”

The four words break the silence and Y/N’s breathing stills just that instance. She longs for her to continue, to complete her thought. She craves the connection and comfort of words. But what if the sentence screams a but after the sweet beginning and the girl hesitates to listen forward. She grew attached, attached to the gentleness and need of love as now she had felt the taste of the forbidden fruit. She yearns for those words to get closer, but denies now her already aching heart the vulnerability to open like the flower to the burning sun.

But Maliza continues, nevertheless her hurting heart. And she still listens to every word carefully.

“I don’t know what happened between you both and it’s not my place to pry, and by no means I’m trying to justify his actions… which can be unexplainable sometimes. Or whatever he did… But I meant it when I said he was… is really worried about you.”

And she takes these words cautiously too.

“Just don’t tell him that I told you that.” The young doctor tries to laugh away the seriousness. “He has this tough guy’s reputation in his head.”

What she said wasn’t partially a lie. In a way, Tom did need to maintain this tough guy’s reputation, but it didn’t quite come from shielding his emotions. Quite the opposite, to tell the truth. In a sense, he had to maintain the authority to keep order, and Maliza knew, she’s seen there was no one better than Tom when it comes to leadership. But he didn’t build relationships, only when it was mutually beneficial or required. It was a flaw he entrusted to his closest allies.

Y/N tries not to let her heart stutter at this fuzzy nibbling feeling, but it just wraps around her heart and makes it hammer. She won’t tell, she wouldn’t. But she considers whether this was said in case she did admit to him she saw him soft and maybe just in case for her to be prepared and denied if she ever spilt the beans to him. After all, Maliza’s tone was light and blithe, open to interpretation, to her heart… but it didn’t matter. She wouldn’t say, and final.

But she doesn’t need to say anything else, wonder whether he actually regrets it. Because speak of the devil… and he says plenty. And maybe her heart flutters the second time in one heartbeat, but she’s too hurt and he’s confusing.

“How’s her leg?”

Tom’s voice booms across the room and startles them both. Neither of the girls had noticed when the devil himself came into the picture and stood in the doorway with his arms folded across the chest. If he’d heard anything, he never mentions it.

Maliza feels like the question was never meant for her and he foolishly mixed the pronouns as his eyes don’t even glance the doctor’s way. Tom never takes his eyes off the tensed girl, but it’s far from the sharp gaze Maliza’s used to seeing in his eyes when he’s serious.

“She has a mild sprain.” The doctor answers and she swears Tom’s gaze hardens the instant his eyes land on her. His sudden change almost makes her eyes roll at the hopeless man. He’s head over heels and it shows. “Shouldn’t take more than two weeks to heal. The first days are always the hardest, so make sure she gets well-rested and doesn’t stress her foot. Ice and compression are necessary to make the healing process quicker.”

Maliza explains what she thinks Tom already knows, but she says it more to reassure him than out of duty, to be honest. She gathers her stuff and stands up then, sensing her business is done here for the evening. Her gaze slips to Y/N and she grins; she’s really looking forward to meeting the girl once again.

“Here,” she withdraws a small card with a number. “You can call me whenever this guy gets annoying.”

“The guy’s right here.”

But neither of the girls responds; Maliza hands Y/N the card with her number and steps forward to the doorway. She gives one last wave, saying goodbye and exits the room.

“I'll see you off.” Tom states. He glances over at the girl who’s secretly observing and the sides of her cheeks taint over with a light shade of pink as he catches her eyes. She instantly averts her gaze. “I’ll be right back.”

Tom walks Maliza out and stops at the doorway, a little further. The evening is cool, it steals away the warmth of the home. Maliza can see the familiar figure fast asleep in the front seat of the car, the seat belt slung awkwardly over his shoulder. She doesn’t want to keep Harrison in the cold any longer (though, she and Tom both know he won’t remember a damn), but she quickly swirls around to face Tom.

“She’s a nice girl.”

Maliza shifts on her feet at the cold wind.

“I know.”

“She could really use a friend.” The statement is kindhearted, but it makes Tom’s heart clench. “It’s Christmas soon. You can’t just leave her be for the whole two weeks if you’re planning on making her stay. And I know you are. She’s lonely, Tom.”

“She can’t even look at me. How am I supposed to fill in her days with me if she doesn’t even want me around?”

“Maybe you should start with sorry.”

When Tom walks into his (his..? hers..? such a confusion) room, she hasn’t moved a bit. She’s fidgeting with her fingers when he halts in his step. The warm room light falls onto her hunched figure and shadows the tired features. She doesn’t face him nor try to acknowledge his presence, but he knows the tension followed into the room the moment he walked in. Her shoulders carry tautness, and he himself has jitters all of a sudden.

He yearns to see her eyes, but there’s dread of what he would see in them and it’s kind of crushing. Hence, Tom doesn’t walk closer nor sit on the bed next to her. He keeps his distance in hopes of seeing her loosen the tension.

“How are you feeling?” He asks and he genuinely means it. But to be fair, he doesn’t expect to be answered and he is not wrong. After a few moments, Tom continues. “I asked Maliza to bring some of your clothes here, so you could have something to change into. It’s not much, but we can always-”

“I want to go home.” She whispers out of a sudden. She doesn’t mean to interrupt, but his words are suffocating her. The girl never lets her eyes wander anywhere but the soft carpet and when she does look at him, she hugs herself, rubbing in a soothing motion her upper arm, because it feels like she’s sitting in the hot seat. Y/N blurts a desperate plea, but it’s despairing not for nothing.

What is her home, by any means?

She doesn’t want her clothes here, she doesn’t want Tom to go out and buy her some because it isn’t much. Y/N doesn’t want any of it and it just makes her sick. She wants to sleep in her own bed, in her own room and in her… in her and Matthew’s home.

She just wants to go home.

But this time, she is the one who’s met with silence.

it was a struggle to force myself to come back to this fic (it took months), even if i had some chapters planned in advance. it’s also a struggle to read my own works; there always seem to be flaws

nevertheless, i hope you enjoyed

[i’m not sure whether You still want to be tagged here, so lemme know if You want me to cross you out]

tags: @thomaslefteyebrow @lxvrgirl @jewelrybean25 @vip-access @tomhiho @revrse @that-slutty-bitch @supernatural3002

#tom holland #tom holland image #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfiction #mob!tom holland x reader #mob!tom #tom holland angst #tom holland x you #tom holland series #tom holland au #tom holland imagines #tom holland reader insert

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peeterparkr · 2 years

Text

all roads lead to;tom holland; prologue

prologue: 'what leads?'

story summary: when your long time boyfriend breaks up with you and leaves you to find himself in Italy because you’re not spontaneous enough, you follow him to prove him wrong. Along the way you meet Tom , who recently went through a breakup himself, and might help you believe hate at first sight exists. Your trip trying to find your ex in small italian towns will become a desperate call for help, trying to help your new enemy get his relationship back by fake dating, sharing beds, getting lost and finding romance in dubious spots; all while falling in love with the country and the romance of it. Will your trip help you find your ex, yourself, your Romeo and Juliet story or finally lead you to Rome?

New series: fluff, smut, angst-ish (not really)

pairing: tom holland x writer!reader

tropes: enemies to lovers, fake dating, only one bed, road-trip, love triangle (or square), very rom com, idiots to lovers, oops-we-kissed, italian cliches from Hollywood

chapter summary: what leads to love and what leads to heartbreak? word count: 3.7

playlists: Italian vibes | y/n's breakup

wanna be tagged?

masterlist next chapter

IT'S HERE, BYE HOPE YOU LIKE THE PROLOGUE, REBLOG COMMENT EVEYRHTING

What leads to love?

Falling in love comes easy. Very, very easily. No one really complains about the process of falling in love, though it’s different each time, there is a certain agreement that falling in love is overall a happy process.

Or rather than happy, it’s… simple.

Falling in love sometimes is magical. Sometimes it’s avoided. Sometimes it can be a storm.

But undeniably, it’s easy.

It’s like wine. Bitter, with some sweet notes.

Some people say the older it is, better. Love might turn better with time, into a more mature routine and more developed plans.

The young folks usually prefer a sweeter wine. It’s about… taste, really.

The real connoisseaurs might find disgrace in the cheap wine that people use to get drunk. Like one of those one night stands that might give you a headache the very next day. It’s the same, really.

Love can be described in many different ways. Currently, you decided wine was the very best explanation for it. Or at least how you were drowning it. Wine worked.

The circumstances surrounding might not be as pleasant, however, you can easily fall in love.

You can fall in love with a gentle laugh, a stupid comment and a genuine stare. Falling in love can come from an inside joke, a shared story or a listened to song.

Falling in love can come as a mistake. And making mistakes, well…

It’s easy. It just… comes in so easily and you can’t help it. Though it’s very complicated to describe.

Sometimes you can use colors. Other times you can use flowers. Or wine.

With him, though, how will you ever be able to describe what it felt like?

Was it strategized? Probably. From giving him certain type of smiles or making him like you for the dresses you wore. Pretending to love his favorite films or favorite songs. Learning the different conversations to be achieved through dinner with his friends.

But it was… inevitable. And you wouldn’t change it.

Per sempre, tutta la vita.

That’s what he used to say, he’d heard that phrase once, he never remembered from where, and his pronunciation had probably changed along the way and it was a mere memory of it now. But he had decided to use it all the time. It was for you.

‘Forever, all my life’.

With the promise that he’d love you forevermore. All his life. As long as you were aware of it, he was, undoubtedly, still alive.

How easy had it been to fall for that single phrase. Per sempre, tutta la vita.

Falling out of love, on the other hand, isn’t easy. And that’s something universally agreed upon.

It should’ve been as easy as losing that neck chain. Or forgetting the dialogue of a movie you haven’t watched in a while. It should be easy.

Yet it’s not.

Falling out of love is a forced activity when you’re broken up with. And that’s not easy. A breakup is never never easy. At least not if you’re the one being dumped. It’s like that one bitter cheap wine that you bought in a supermarket and made you sick and gave you a heartache. Falling out of love included the five stages of grief. And wine.

Refusing to fall out of love had probably led you to where you were by now. A plane.

Where you had a glass of wine in your hand and you were gripping to your hopes with the other one.

The conversation was playing over, and over, and over. Like a humorless joke that you can’t help but tell again and again.

“Really? Just like that?” You had asked, as you walked around the kitchen counter. Pouring a glass of wine as you continued cooking dinner for both of you, ignoring his suitcases by the door. “Just… years and years thrown out the window. All our plans--”

The music was still playing the background, the music you decided to play so you could dance while cooking, what you usually did, different plans tonight.

“Y/N, Y/N, I— it’s not. It’s not like that,” Miles followed you with his dark gaze, watching your pathetic excuse for dinner. “This is as hard for me as it is for you. Look, It’s not you, it’s—“

You could not believe it. “Please, do not dare to say that,” You begged, closing your eyes as you stopped stirring the sauce. “Don’t dare saying it, don’t say it’s not you, it's me. That’s what people say when it really is the other person.”

After years of your relationship, he was throwing it away. Just like that, by saying: ‘We need to break up’, which undoutebdly is one of the cheapest ways of breaking up with someone.

It’s useful, though. If it ain’t broke…

“Well, it is me, not you,” he cleared out and poured a wine for himself, thought he was breaking up with you and he’d already packed, this seemed calm enough.

You looked up. “Have you met someone else?” Your gaze was trying to decipher his.

“No,” he took a deep breath. He wasn’t lying. “That’s why I’m telling you this. It’s not about… us, it’s not that the love is gone or… I…” He took a deep breath. “I want to travel, I want to follow my dreams and being here with you just… stops me from it, being tied—“

“Tied? You feel like that? Trapped? Is that it?” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing, though. “Is this a prison? Have I not—“

“No, no, I didn’t,” he squeezed his eyes shut. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant, you… You have your life here, alright? And I don’t know if this is who I want to be. I want to travel…”

“We could travel, then,” you said quickly, as you felt your chest ache. Yet, you were still calm. You took a sip of the red wine, bitter. “Yes, yes, yes, let’s travel together. We can plan a trip. We can go places, yes, yes, we can do that. Let’s… You wanted to go to San Francisco, right? Let’s go, let’s travel to San Francisco this weekend, let’s plan it.”

“You… don’t,” he took a deep breath. “That’s the thing, y/n, I don’t want to plan, I don’t want to go… To San Francisco.”

“Where then?” You were desperate now. You knew your voice was cracking because you knew what was going on.

He was tired, you could tell. “I just want to travel, be free, no planning. I just—I want to go travel to without planning.”

“How are you supposed to travel without planning?” You frowned. “However can you travel, you need money, and… and… the plane… and a hotel, or some kind of place to stay and the transportation and—“

“I’m leaving to Italy, without planning anything.”

“Italy is literally the other side of the world—There has to be some planning, and there must have been some considering your stuff is already packed.”

“I—” He took a deep breath.

“Had I known you wanted to break up with me I would’ve planned—“

“This is my thing, y/n, you don’t have to plan everything,” his hands were firm against the table now, he was conflicted. “and you’re always doing it, you plan and then you never go through with it. You just… Plan and order and it’s all—It’s everything, you always have to be under control and there’s no spontaneity—You are scared of everything. You’re even scared of your own dreams.”

“See? So it is me, it’s not the whole it’s not you, it’s me… It is not you, Miles, is it? It is me.”

He took a deep breath. “Maybe, yeah,” he ran a hand through his face.

You gave him a bitter smile. “Yeah.”

“No, no, I—It’s not you. It’s the person I am today, I need—I need some spontaneity in my life. And you are perfect the way you are—I’m just… I don’t think we are the people who we fell in love with, we have changed.”

“But… I love the person you are today,” you knew he had cracked you, finally. “You don’t love me, then?”

“Oh no, that I do, I do, I love you, I need—Some time, but this is about me wanting to go and be free for myself, but I love you, and I always will. Per sempre, tutta la vita.”

You felt your heart breaking. “If you love me then, why are you leaving me?” The world was spinning.

“It’s not about lack of love,” he explained. “I think we have enough love to give,” Miles took in a deep breath.

He meant it, because falling in love is easy. And falling out of love can’t be as easy.

There was love there. You knew it. He loved you; and you loved him and this would be another silly argument that comes with time, when the devils get into your thoughts. You knew you’d eventually end up with your arms wrapped around him, dancing under the moonlight, kissing him better.

“Would you go to Italy with me?” He questioned. As if some sense had gotten to him. “Right now? Let’s go, I need—“

“I can’t leave just like that, I have a job, I have things to take care of—I would need to plan—“

“I’ve never asked you anything, y/n,” he said. “It’s the one thing I’m asking from you. Let’s go.”

Italy had always been a dream of his, and yours too; you’d both been saving for it, for a while now. The time would never seem to come because one thing happened or life decided to slip in and before you knew it, you were spending the holidays again watching Home Alone for who knows what time.

You knew you both wanted this. He was an architect, you were a writer. You were supposed to go there. Learn, travel. Be a romantic and visit Verona, find Romeo or Juliet.

Yet you never did, although you wanted to.

“I—I don’t know Miles,” you said. “I’m—scared, alright? Yes I’m scared to—“

He watched you like he had won the race, as if he was dying to tell you he’d told you so. He only cynically chuckled to himself as his eyes couldn’t look at you.

“Scared to follow your dream?” He questioned. “You’ve always wanted to go there, you always write about having adventures yet you never have one, y/n. Who are you? What happened to you? To us? Why are we even pretending this is working? It’s not. And—“

“It is—“

“No, we don’t work anymore.,it’s always—This conversation, y/n.”

“I—Can we talk about this, please? You’re so suddenly breaking up with me,” you snapped for the first time. “Miles you can’t—do that.”

He sighed. “You act like this is sudden.”

“Well it is,” you frowned. “Something must have happened, you just—packed and you’re leaving and—please let’s—“

“We’ve been having this conversation over and over, y/n.”

You knew he was right, yes lately you had been having arguments but you didn’t think they would lead to… breaking up. It was sudden. Yes, there were arguments but not “packing bags and leaving to another country” arguments.

“But—we can solve this, right?” You asked.

“I can’t keep on trying to push you to follow your reams. I need to follow my own, and if you don’t have the courage to follow yours, then—You need someone else, y/n, not me.”

He was done, and he didn’t have to say it. And it felt like your whole life shattered. Had you not known better you would have thought that every crashing sound was your house glass, or the wine bottle or anything else. But you knew it was your heart, which he had held for so many years but dropped so easily.

“I need someone who can just pack their stuff and leave.” Miles gave you a sympathetic sad state, long enough to see the tears bulking in. “I can’t do it, y/n.”

He left when he saw you had no more left to say, because he had a plane to catch. And the music was still playing in the background and you were left with a pasta for two and an opened bottle of wine.

He needed more, then. How? How could he need more, you only needed his laugh echoing through the apartment. You didn’t need anything more.

You needed him.

And maybe it was the bottle of wine or the playlist that played in the background, very poorly and drunkenly chosen after hearing he’d be leaving for Italy. Maybe.

Maybe it was the fact that falling in love is so easy. But maybe it was Maybe it was the fact that this was so sudden. He had given you no signs.

5 years of your life all thrown out the window in one night.

Maybe it was the fact that he was right. Maybe it was that. Maybe it was because you realized how lonely the apartment looked.

Maybe it was the fact you realized he’d probably spent the whole day packing but he’d left a lot still. Like all those pictures around the house.

Maybe it was the fact that for the first time in two years you’d be sleeping alone. Or the fact that you realized that your bed was too big, too stupidly big. And cold.

Maybe it had been the fact you’d finished the whole bottle of wine. Or the fact that you were going through the five stages of grief in just a few hours.

Denial, first. You had spent 10 minutes waiting for him to show back up. You knew he couldn’t be serious.

Anger, second. Screaming, trying to hide away every single picture. You decided to get rid off the plants he’s chosen for the apartment, very decently, moving them outside your apartment. ‘Get out, our relationship died and so will you! Remember how we said we would love you forever? And take care of you This is just a lie because one day you’re flourishing and the other day? Guess what little plant! You get kicked out of someone’s life! Because you’re not what I want! No. You’re just a stupid plant who can’t travel because you’re stuck. Or maybe you’re not and I’m kicking you out before you decide you can leave me too’

Dancing to Lizzo’s Good as Hell. Then Cher’s Believe. Then, Taylor Swift.

Bargaining, third. You’d texted him. ‘Please. Let’s talk.’ ‘Can we go get breakfast and think about this?’

You didn’t know why Taylor made you realize how cruel you’d been to the plants. You’d gone out to get them back.‘I’m so sorry I said all that. I love you. I’m sorry, welcome back.’

Then you realized, it couldn’t be that bad. Maybe this was your chance to meet someone new? Or perhaps,

Depression, fourth. It had started with the tear streaming down your face as you listened to Italian covers of breakup song.

First ‘without you’ by Mariah Carey was playing in the background. Not that version, though. It was in Italian. Somehow you had found the one playlist with breakup songs all sung in Italian. Nowadays there’s a playlist for anything.

Why? Because your life had lost its sense in the—you looked down at the time, your life had lost its sense 6 hours ago.

“Can’t live, if living is without you,” you pathetically sang along the lyrics in another language. “Can't live anymore,” you sobbed now.

5 years. This wasn’t supposed to end like this.

Maybe it was all of that combined.

Then there was no music, just the sound of your tears as you hugged the pillow that he used every night. With little to no hope.

With pictures of him stabbing you into old reminders.

Probably. Yes, it may have been every single thing that led you to the morning.

That led you to your screen blinding you just enough, and that may have been what led you to drunkenly search for flights early in the morning.

That may have led you to book a flight, pack in less than an hour and get showered as you went to the airport because your flight would be leaving in less than six hours.

That’s what led you to it.

Yes, that’s what led you to your current situation. A plane that would lead you to another plane to get to Verona.

Quietly sitting on a plane. Hugging yourself. Pathetic.

With time to think. Because you knew what Miles’ plan was, you’d practically made it. Arrive at Verona, then a road trip along the country, searching for adventures, inspiration and everything that could be put in your way. Sure, Miles didn’t like planning but without you he’d never get anywhere. Your plans completed him.

You’d called an old friend from college, a roommate you’d had and who had always encouraged you to visit her. Serafina, who was absolutely delighted that you and Miles would finally visit. You’d decided to keep out the part that he’d broken up with you and that you’d gone on a psychotic trance and followed after him to another country in hopes of finding him and getting back together with him.

Minor details.

Because, it all led back to him, to Miles. Didn’t it? This was to prove him that you were what he wanted. Yes, you could travel. He was that push you needed. He loved you, you loved him. You were willing to change for him.

That’s what mattered. Didn’t it?

Besides Italy was leading you to a whole new possibility. An opportunity for you to understand what you would be able to do for love. You’d been broken up with 24 hours ago. Or More? Less?

You hadn’t slept and your heart was still aching. This had to lead to him. To Miles. And you knew fate would be on your side, you’d probably see him in a few hours. Destiny would lead you to him. Because your body was still his. It was impossible to erase him. 48 hours ago you still here by his side. You were sure you could still smell his lotion on your clothes.

You knew you’d never love someone again. Your heart could only belong to him.

You were excited, excited and tired. So, tired. You were barely looking at anything, you were entranced by your hopes, the heartbreak and the fact your eyes had been crying for 24 hours straight without resting anything. But you wanted this to be the best decision you’d ever made.

You tried looking for Serafina who had promised to pick you up, you walked through the crowds and accidentally bumped into someone, making him drop the three cups of coffee he was holding.

“Bloody hell, fuck,” he murmured, angrily as he was trying to get his white t-shirt off contact with his skin. The paper he was holding had been ruined as well. “Guarda dove stai andando!”

“I’m so, so sorry,” You quickly said. “Sorry! Uh, Mi scuso?” You said. He had sunglasses on, which gave away who he was. Having sunglasses inside a room could only mean he was a certain type.

He was annoyed. He took a deep breath as he pulled up his glasses. “Watch where you’re going.”

“I… will.” Yes, it had proved it. He was an asshole.

“Fucking tourists,” he muttered. Though, he was clearly not a native italian either. His accent betrayed him, and his looks.

“I’ll buy you another coffee,” you said. “I’m so sorry for your shirt.”

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t bother,” he hissed as he walked past you, pushing you just slightly, enough to bother you.

You were tired and not in the mood. “It wasn’t on purpose, asshole.”

He only turned around to give you a smirk and kept walking. Smugly. Like he owned the place. Maybe it was your lack of sleep or your broken heart but there was an urge building upon you to go hit him.

You got a call, saving him from your…violence.

“Fina!” You finally answered, hoping you’d see your friend soon enough. “Oh my God, hello my love! Are you here?”

“Bellissima, y/n, have you arrived?” She asked. “Perdonami amore mio, something came up and I sent my roommate for you and Miles!”

“Oh, er… Yes, I’m here, I… uh, you sent your roommate?” You asked. “What’s her name?”

“Oh, his name is Tom! He’s adorable, you’re going to love him!”

“Oh great!”

“Yes, and he could distract Miles while you and I go out and catch up, amore mio!” She insisted on Miles. She’d always said you both would end up married

You still believed that.

“Oh… yeah.”

“How are you dressed, amore?” She questioned.

Very.. chic. Pants and a hoodie that would disguise your break-up. “Uh, like everyone else.”

“And Miles?” She asked.

“Uh… How is your roommate dressed? How will I know it’s him?” You decided to change the subject.

“He made a sign! I’ll tell him to meet you outside, his car is yellow!” She said.

“Alright! I’ll search for him” You said.

“Si si! Can’t wait to see you and Miles, ciao ciao! Baci!” She hung up.

You waited a bit, trying to know how you would excuse yourself. How in this world would you explain that ‘Miles & y/n’ were no longer ‘Miles & y/n’. How would you explain that you were there looking for your now ex in hopes of getting back together. How the hell would you explain that it had led you to call your boss saying it was a family emergency. How on earth would you tell her that your life had completely been destroyed in less than 48 hours?

Fina had the suspicion that you were engaged.

You decided to face your fears and walk outside, looking for that one yellow car. And you did see him.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” you said as you walked over to the guy with three new brand coffees. You saw his sign now, previously ruined. ‘Miles & Y/N’Now distorted and stirred, dripping.

The asshole. With his stupid sunglasses on, but his shirt ruined.

You made your way over. He only glared as he hung up the phone. Your last 24 hours were better considering that you now had to face him.

“Are you here to knock my coffee off again?” He asked.

“Are you Tom?” You asked, as annoyed.

He frowned, arrogantly annoyed, pulling his sunglasses up. “Who’s asking?”

“I’m y/n.”

And you couldn’t believe this had led to him.

next chapter

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@xorderedkaosx @marajillana @andr3wsgf @sunflowersandaydreams @princessatoru @lilmschild @nocturnalms @halsteadsparker @parkersdahlia @sp2ncerz @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah @lnmp89 @ebureon @minejungwoo @josephines-simps-fics @annathesillyfriend @hihiweezing @wayfaring----stranger @little-freak-satelliteatellite

#tom holland fic #tom holland #tom holland fanfic #tom holland x reader #all roads lead to #tom holland series #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland writing #tom holland story #tom holland reader insert #spiderman ff #tom holland ff #tom holland fanfiction

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supercap2319 · 2 months

Text

Peter: "Y/N? Why are you painting your fingernails black?"

Y/N: "Wanda and Pietro took all the red and blue nail polish, so I can't paint them as Spiderman colors. So, I'm going for Venom black. I heard his host is hot as fuck."

Peter *Murmurs underneath his breath* "I'm hotter."

#x male reader #male reader insert #male x male #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x male reader #tom holland #Tom Holland x male reader #Spiderman

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justice-maul · 10 months

Note

Can I request Tom's peter parker x male reader

Peter hasn't seen his bf for a while and when they finally meet they try to have sex and make out but are getting interrupted by the avengers every single time. Getting Peter annoyed little by little until he finally reaches his limits and tells the avengers to leave them alone since he is going to get fucked by his bf and doesn't want any interruptions

With a breeding kink, eating out peters ass, playing with peters pecs, praising kink

Thanks :)

«Temptation» Tom!Peter Parker x Top Avenger Male Reader

Word count: 1,366

Author Note: thank you anon I love this request so far it’s one of my favs! English isn’t my first language!

WE WERE JUST AT 400 A FEW DAYS AGO AND NOW I HAVE NEAR 800 FOLLOWERS?!?! YALL ARE THE BEST I LITERALLY LOVE YOU GUYS SO MUCH ❤️

Warning(s)⚠: Sub Peter, breeding, rim job, breast/pec play, nipple play, p in a, and of course, praise

It’s been so long since Peter has seen let alone touched his boyfriend, with the constant missions you two weren’t able to do anything together but finally, you two were both free and he was desperate to just feel you…

You two were in his room on the bed with Peter in your lap straddling your waist, his hands rested on your shoulders, your lips on his just as desperate to taste him as he was eager, you gently sucked his lip between your teeth, nipping at his bottom lip signaling him to open his mouth just enough for your tongue to slide into his warm wet mouth

But suddenly there’s a knock on the door and both of you are forced to pull away as Tony comes in to grab Peter for yet another time-consuming project, and it wasn’t the first time the Avengers had cock blocked both of you

Last week you were on top of him your hands trailed down his pants and felt up the fat of his ass as he let out a soft noise of pleasure in your mouth before Sam sent you a text to help him train. After a mission, Peter and you were desperate to feel each other as he palmed your cock but Steve sent out a message to all the Avengers for a long meeting

You can see that it was starting to get to Peter so one day as you two were on your couch in your bedroom you gently gripped his thigh moving your hand deeper in between as you began to kiss his neck in order to calm down his nerves, he let out a little whine as he’s been needy to just feel any sexual contact these past few weeks

Your lips gently sucked on his neck, pressing in hickeys to his skin as you began to leave light bites along his nape letting your teeth graze his skin causing him to let out louder noises but just as your hand moved to his pants one by one the avengers all came into the room

You saw Peter’s hands clench into fists as he watched all the Avengers swarm into your room and began to talk as if you two weren’t even there trying to spend time together alone and he couldn’t help but just snap, finally reaching his limit and stood up

“All of you, get out NOW!”

He yelled, it was unusual to see Peter yelling at anyone but it was clear he was pissed. “You have been bothering us all week can’t you leave for one day?!” He snapped and slowly the Avengers began to leave and he slammed the door shut behind them making it clear that he didn’t want anyone to disturb him

He let out a sigh of relief and turned back to you and you couldn’t help but just chuckle and you grab his waist pulling him in against your body and smashing your lips against his and soon you two were on the couch again making out, your hands snaked up his sweater lifting up right above his chest and began to gently grope his pecs

"Your body's so beautiful baby" You whispered against his lips causing him to shudder as your hands felt up his pecs gently squeezing and groping the fat, Peter was always incredibly sensitive and his chest was one of his weakest areas, especially his pink little buds

You pushed him against the couch getting in between his thighs as you began to grope his chest, feeling the supple skin against your fingers through his sweater was already driving you crazy and causing him to make the most pornographic noises only by you just you barely touching his chest

“Keep making those pretty noises for me sweetheart," you manhandled him on his knees with his ass raised in the air and removed both his pants and underwear, his sweater being the only piece of clothing left. He hid his face on the armrest as you grabbed handfuls of his cheeks

You waste no time in spreading his plump ass making his pink hole twitch as your breath fans over it jerking forward when you press your tongue flat against his rim and you began to take long strips along his hole making him whine pathetically which turned into a string of cusses as you pushed your tongue inside his slick heat

You can barely make out anything he was babbling but you continued to fuck his hole with your tongue, pulling back for a moment, you licked your own fingers, coating them in saliva before pushing two inside of his heat, your tongue joining them, spreading him open while enjoying the way he arched his back against your face

Your cock throbbed and harden between your legs, leaking precum into your boxers as it begged for attention when you finally were able to scissor and put three fingers inside him, is when you decided he was ready and pulled your fingers out of his cunt unbuckling your belt

When Peter saw you pull out your hardening length he felt a wave of nervousness and excitement coursing through him as you gently flipped him over on his back. Slowly, you began pushing into him inch by inch, “You're taking me in so well Peter, just relax for me baby, I’ll always take care of you,” you continued to praise him even as you bottomed out letting him adjust to your size

“I’m ready… you can start moving now…” he said nervously but you both knew when it came down to it he wasn’t shy about wanting your cock at all “Fuck, you feel so good,” you groaned feeling his tightness wrap around you, you began moving slowly inside of him his eyes locked in yours the entire time as you made love to him

“You’re so fucking beautiful Pete,” you added, your voice full of praise making him moan softly “I can’t believe I get to be with you like this…” Wordlessly, Peter pulled you into a passionate, heated kiss. You moaned into his mouth feeling your passion for him growing with each passing moment.

You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer as you continued to thrust into his sloppy hole. "Fuck, baby, you're so fucking sexy," you whispered against his lips making him whimper. "I can't get enough of you." You deepened the kiss, your tongue tangling with his. Peter’s brain turning to mush as he whispered “I love you” over and over again, against your lips

“I love you too baby, M’gonna fill you up so fucking good, gonna make you mine…” your voice thick with lust as you began to thrust harder and faster, slamming your body into his with each movement making him babble and moan loudly from your length dragging along his heat

“Come on baby, let me hear you scream,” you added with your eyes locked on his “Let me hear how much you want it.” He yelled out wordless moans, screaming for your cock so loudly there was no way the Avengers hadn’t heard you two now but neither of you cared at the moment

Your hips moved faster, fucking into him relentlessly “Gonna cum, gonna cum, f-fuck!” You felt him tighten around your hardness making you groan loudly as he screamed, your thrusts becoming sloppy as you both came together, feeling your cum gushing out of your cock filling him up, and his shooting out over his own stomach

“Feel so full…” he said breathlessly, you put a hand over his lower abdomen and pulled out, watching as his cum seeped out of his messy hole, “That was just what I needed,” he said panting and resting his head on the armrest as you chuckled and gently helped him to the shower to get you both cleaned up.

Let’s just say when you guys both came out of your room no one made eye contact and made sure to always ask you two if you were busy before bothering either of you, some of the Avengers made jokes about it (especially Tony) and every time they did Peter would groan and hide us head in his hands making you laugh

If you want more… check out my Masterlist

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g4yforethan · 4 months

Text

new idea

pairing: peter parker x male!reader

summary: peter is sad but reader knows just the way to help him

warnings: cursing, top!reader, bottom!peter parker, reader and character are 18+

a/n: been a while since i've written so if this seems all over the place pls forgive mee

you were on your way to peter's house to finish the project you two had been assigned. he had texted you to come over but earlier in class, he looked upset and stressed. you thought you would be able to cheer him up so you brought a movie along to watch together. you arrived and rang the doorbell and aunt may opened it. “oh hi y/n! it’s been so long.” the both of you hugged. “hi aunt may! where’s peter?” she looked towards his room. “he’s in his room right now. PETER Y/N IS HERE! anyways come on in, i’m gonna go to the store and get some food. you’re welcome to stay for dinner.” “aww thank you aunt may. it’s good seeing you.” she smiled and closed the door.

“PETERR! where are youuu?” you went to open the door to his room and saw him in his bed with the covers over his head. you went over to him and removed the blanket to see his cute and soft face. “peter what’s wrong?” “nothing y/n just feeling out of it that’s all.” an idea sparked in your head and so you went over to his bed and started massaging his thigh. “thanks y/n but i don’t know if i’m in the mood right now.” peter said as he looked at you with his puppy dog eyes. you grabbed his face and stared at him in his eyes. “trust me peter this’ll make you feel better.” you leaned in and touched his sweet, soft lips. you stopped to look at him and saw him still puckering for a kiss. you laughed and he opened his eyes as his face turned red. “you look so cute like that. you want more?” “yes please.” he said in a shy voice.

you grabbed his and laid him on his back and continued kissing his face and went down towards his neck. his soft moans turned you on even more as you left hickies all over his neck and chest. "i wanna fuck you so bad." you said as you massaged his crotch. "fuck me please."peter begged for your cock as he took off his pants and underwear. you did the same and flipped peter over with his ass facing towards you. you started licking his hole and slowly putting one finger inside. peter's moans filled the room as he arched his back ready for your cock. you listened as you slowly entered his tight hole. your grabbed onto his waist and continued fucking him. each stroke you gave become stronger and faster. peter reached his hand out, begging for you to stop, but you didn't.

you flipped peter over on his back and lifted his legs up. you rubbed your fingers on his hole before putting your dick back inside of him. you fucked his hole for a few more minutes before it was time to cum. "fuck peter. i'm gonna cum." he looked at you in your eyes. "cum inside me y/n." you listened and came inside of him wrapping your arms around his neck and shoulders. he rubbed your back and kissed your neck before you flipped over laying next to him. "so how do you feel now? better?" you asked him as he smiled and kissed you. "yeah of course. way better." the two of you kissed before a knock interrupted you both.

#male reader #male reader insert #malereader #gay love #gay smut #gay reader #marvel #marvel x male reader #peter parker x male reader #peter parker #peter parker smut #peter parker x y/n #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x male reader

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petriwriting · 28 days

Text

All Over Again - College!Peter Parker X Reader

Summary: College!Peter Parker, Female reader (She her pronouns). After No Way Home, Peter is in college. He's tried to move on from his past, but cannot let go of one person. So he has to get her to fall in love with him, all over again.

A/N branching out with more of my comfort characters from different fandoms. Warning for google translated Tagalog (filipino) Also this accidentally became mega fluff. oops.

"Are you okay?"

Peter asked with concern. He is battered and beaten, tired, but relieved and a bit sad. Y/N Embraced him, tightly. "yes, we're fine. i'm so glad you're okay," Peter looked at his friends his eyes were so saddened seeing them.

"You're going to forget who I am," he says, Y/N, Ned and MJ all look at him in confusion. "what?" says Ned, "What are you talking about?" MJ says, full of concern.

"Peter, Please," Y/N says, stepping forward, looking at him. He holds her face in his hands gently. "It's okay," Peter Coos. "I'm going to come find you, and I'll explain everything." Y/N's face begins to swell with tears, "I'll make you remember me." He says assuredly.

"Like none of this ever happened." Peter glances over to Ned and MJ. "Okay?" Peter asks, waiting for reassurance.

"What if that doesn't work?" Y/N asks, desperately looking at him. "What if that doesn't work and we- I can't remember you?" Y/N pleas. "Please Peter I can't lose you,"

"I know," Peter says "There's nothing else we can do." He begins to wipe the tears from her cheeks with his thumb. "Y/n, please" Peter says, it's breaking his heart at just the thought of not being able to see her every day. "Trust me." He says, Y/N nods, and their lips meet in a passionate embrace, a moment of desperate love. "I Love you," Peter whispers. "I love you," she manages to whimper back.

"Promise?" Ned says after their embrace.

"I Promise." Peter says.

They shake hands and embrace, and MJ gives Peter a tight hug.

Peter takes another look at Y/N, feeling as if he's losing the best part of himself. The three watch him leave, each crying and grieving the soon to be loss.

~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~

Y/N reported to work promptly and on time, as usual. The small Coffee shop was practically empty, aside from one customer who was busy on his laptop - probably swiftly typing business proposals. he had his airpods in his ears, and had been slowly sipping a black coffee.

Y/N wondered what it was like to have a job, to be important to someone. For some reason, they woke up last week feeling somewhat empty, a sudden and strange longing and depression. It was as if she was missing a piece of herself.

Despite the existential feelings, Y/N still wiped counters and brewed coffee for everyone. A rush of relief hit her when the bell at the door rang, alerting her of a someone's presence. It was Peter Parker, A name that did not yet mean anything to her. She thought he was cute, and he smiled softly and waved. "Hi, Welcome inn." She said, putting on her best fake nice customer service voice. "Hi." Peter said. He was taken aback by her beauty, even at work in some stuffy uniform. "I've missed you." He wanted to say, but didn't for the sake of not wanting to come across as a total creep. Y/N waited promptly to write down his order. "What would you like?" she prompted. Peter just stood there, it was slightly awkward. "We have your standard coffee shop staples, lattes, espresso, flat white, mocha," Y/N listed off the different kinds of drinks, and Peter let her. It was like music hearing her voice again. "We also have one that's new, it's called the Spider-Man latte. It's basically like a regular latte, But we put white chocolate and spider sprinkles on the whipped cream. Very popular right now." Y/N continued to explain.

"That sounds great." Peter said, "Alright, One Spider-Man Latte coming right up." she said, grabbing a coffee cup to prepare the beverage for him. "Is dairy ok?" She asked.

"what?" Peter said awkwardly. "Dairy, like milk. some people like almond milk, or like soy milk. for some reason people really like nut milk." Y/N said, with a slight amusement. It was almost a flirty quip.

"Well regular cow milk is fine. . ." Peter trailed off, "Unless you have spider-milk." Peter was immediately embarrassed. God that was so awkward.. He thought. Peter wasn't much of a flirt, but the Y/N he knew would have laughed.

Y/N paused for a moment and then smiled softly. "Well we dont carry that, but if you figure out how to milk a spider, please come back and let us know i'm sure it would be a total hit."

Peter smiled softly watching her decorate the top of the cup with whip cream and sprinkles.

"That'll be... $6.75."

Peter handed her cash, and she gave back the correct amount of change. Peter put it right into the tip jar, knowing she would probably use the money for her lunch later. "Thanks, Hey- You look really familiar. Have I seen you here before?" She asked, out of curiosity.

"Well I think we have class together, actually." Peter admitted.

"Oh, which one?"

"Physics." He says prompty, knowing that she sat in the back of the class everyday...

"Oh really?" Y/N shrugged. "I'm not really doing so great in that class to be honest. I got a C on the midterm, some of the questions were a little unclear." She said with a slight laugh.

"oh, i'm actually doing well, I could tutor you sometimes if you want?"

Peter offered, Y/N was unsure of how to proceed, but when she looked into his eyes, it was as if she'd seen him before. she just could not remember...

"That's really nice actually, I'd appreciate that." She said, taking a pen out of her apron and writing her number on a piece of receipt paper. "Here, you can text me. I get off at 6."

"And what was your name again?" she asked.

"Peter Parker."

"right, Peter parker." She repeated his name back to him. "i'm -"

"Y/N," Peter said immediately.

"How did you... Oh." Peter had gestured towards the name tag she was wearing.

Y/N nodded, wondering why there was suddenly butterflies in her stomach over a boy she couldn't even remember was in one of her classes. "Well, enjoy your coffee, Peter."

"you too!"

He said, which caused them both to chuckle.

A Few Weeks Later.

The two had texted as if they were old friends, as if they'd always known each other. sending memes and cute messages throughout the day.

It was late in the evening, Y/N was lonely, so naturally she sent a text to her classmate and new friend.

She opened the contact for Peter Parker and drafted a text message. Heyy she brushed her thumb over the text before ultimately deciding to just press send.

A few minutes later, a reply popped up.

What are you up to?

Just at home rn

That sounds fun

Not so much..

Sorry :(

The bubble with the three dots appeared for a moment, then disappeared. Y/N was a bit disappointed in this. Then, the phone was ringing. Facetime call from Peter Parker, she answered almost immediately of course.

"Hi." She said excited to see him.

"Hey." Peter said quietly.

"How was class today?" Y/N asked, watching and waiting for Peters reaction on her phone's screen.

"It was alright, but you weren't there.." Peter looked down sadly. "You didn't miss much though, cause' we were just recapping the exam questions." Y/N frowned. "Yeah, I wasn't feeling all that great this morning, I just could not get out of bed..." Y/N trailed off. "I'm not sure why."

Peter looked hurt by this, because deep down he was. He couldn't bear the thought of his decision hurting her. He hated thinking about it at all.

"Well I know of something that I think could make you feel better.." Peter began. "Oh yeah?" She perked up. the butterflies in her stomach were back. "Yes, but it would be kind of a surprise. Can I Come over?" He asked. Y/N nodded. "I think that would be nice. I could use some company." She says. "I'll text you my address now." Y/N says.

"You're not like a serial killer or anything though right?"

Peter chuckled, he had already collected himself ready to go. "No of course not!" Y/N smiled. "okay well then i'll be waiting on this surprise, It better be worth it!" Y/N joked. "I'll see you in a bit."

The call ended, and Y/N went to go freshen up, butterflies in her stomach. she had no idea where they came from.

Less than 15 minutes later, Peter had arrived with flowers, Y/N's favorite candy, and a pizza for them to share. They ended up talking for hours, and falling asleep to a movie on netflix, Y/N leaning right onto Peters shoulder. This was the first night Y/N felt herself somewhat starting to fall for him.

Later.

After going on a few dates and talking even more, Y/N was officially falling for Peter Parker. He visited her work to bring her lunch almost every day, and they were texting each other constantly.

Today, they had a date planned. Y/N was ecstatic, she had spent hours getting ready, and fantasizing about the romantic evening. It was their first nice date at an italian restaurant. She was even dressed in her nicest outfit.

Y/N finished getting ready for the evening, stopping by the mirror to put on a pair of earrings. The plan was so romantic it was as if it was straight out of a movie. An early dinner at a nice restaurant, an evening stroll through the park to go to a museum. She sent Peter a Quick text I can't wait to see you tonight. she checked to see the word "Read" which was followed by the current time.

Upon entering the street where the restaurant was, Y/N was greeted and sat at the table Peter had reserved for them. was she early? when she had checked the time, she wasn't all that early. but Peter was late. she waited, imagining that he missed his train, or got lost, or forgot about some homework. Although that was so out of character for him.

The time ticked by, after about an hour, she had watched people come and go from the busy restaurant, deciding to just leave. It was dark out by now, and the walk home felt dangerous.

She pulled out her phone to call Peter, see if he was running late as a last resort. anything. Maybe it was just too good to be true.

It rang for a while before going to voicemail. at the beep Y/N left a voicemail.

"Hey pete." Her voice was defeated. "I just wanted to see if you were okay and what was going on, Since you stood me up. I just," she sighed heavily. "I really really like you, and i thought you liked me but i guess i'm just head over heels for someone that doesn't care like I do. I'm sorry. But i'm going home for the night. Just text me later, ok?"

She was beyond disappointed. Y/N walked home alone, made it back and cried. She undressed, putting on a pair of shorts, some fuzzy socks and without realizing it, one of Peter's T-shirts he had left at her flat. It had been three hours or so since Peter had left her at that restaurant, alone. In total defeat, she curled up into bed, ready to lull of into sleep to avoid this awful feeling.

Knock.. Knock.. Knock...

It wasn't at the door, but at her window. Y/N jolted up, terrified someone was trying to break in. or worse. She waited quietly, listening, before her phone started buzzing. It was Peter. She answered quickly, scared she was about to get robbed she just wanted to have someone on the line in case. "Hey, It's Peter im outside." he sounded so quiet, his voice was hoarse and he sounded exhausted. Y/N opened the window in confusion.

"He climbing the goddamn fire escape..." She thought. Opening the window, Peter spilled in. His face was brusied, his cheek had a small scratch with blood dried to his face. He looked awful. "Oh my god." Y/N exclaimed, helping him to her bed. He was beaten up pretty bad, and limped slightly. "Peter what happened??" Y/N demanded. "I uh, I got mugged." Peter lied, he was never a particularly good liar to those he loved, but Y/N was filled with worry. "Pete," She grabbed his face gently wiping the blood off his cheek. "I'm so sorry," She sighed. "I feel like an idiot.."

"why?" Peter asked. "I thought you stood me up I was angry and upset, I feel awful knowing you were getting mugged!" Y/N exclaimed. Peter sighed. It didn't feel right.

"I wasn't mugged. I'm sorry Y/N." He said softly. "I have to be honest." Peter stood, and walked over to face the balcony, taking off his shoes. Y/N saw he was wearing red socks although the apartment was dark. "I have to tell you something." Y/N sat on the edge of her bed, in confusion and shock.

She watched as peter took his sweatshirt and jeans off, revealing his suit to her in the moonlight. y/n gasped softly.

"it's you." she said.

Peter nodded.

"And that's not even the craziest part..." He half smiled, going back to sit on the edge of the bed with her once again. "You're going to think i'm absolutely insane." He whispered. Y/n Shook her head, beginning to think she was dreaming.

"I'm Spider-man." Peter said softly. "And I Love you."

Y/N wanted to burst into tears, but sat frozen in shock.

"I always have, since the first time I saw you. You were in my class in elementary school, your hair was braided and you always said hi to me..." He said, smiling at the memory. although y/n had no memory of him whatsoever. "We were in Love, but I had to make a decision that potentially saved the world.." he said, grabbing y/n's hands in his own. "I had Doctor Strange cast a spell, so that everyone would forget who I was. I can prove it. That necklace you're wearing," Y/N looked down to see the necklace around her neck, she had no idea why she felt like she should wear it everyday and no memory of ever buying it.. "I got it for you in high school. and look," Peter pulled up a picture of Y/N and himself on his phone, it was his lockscreen. The two were sharing french fries on the top of a building in new york.

"Peter," Y/N said gently. "I told you I would find you one day, and explain everything. I didn't want you to think I was some creep or some asshole that would stand you up at the restaurant like that,"

"And I know that living a double life is extremely difficult, and people get hurt. I know that being spider-man puts you in danger, So for a while i kept quiet." He explained.

"I just want you to know the truth. you deserve that."

"Peter," Y/n breathed quietly. "I Love you." She said, Peter couldn't wait any longer and kissed her, deeply and softly. Y/N was beginning to feel the emptiness become whole again.

Years later.

College Graduation.

Everyone was excited, MJ even wore a dazzling gown, and Ned wore his best suit, Y/N was dressed nicely, and Peter was wearing a nice suit. It felt like the ending of a movie where everyone is happy and the hopeful song starts playing. It was a new chapter in life for everyone. Peter had become a huge part of Y/N's life, even rebuilding his relationship with MJ and Ned as well. It felt oddly nostalgic for him.

"Halika, oras na para sa larawan!" Ned's Lola exclaimed.

Y/N looked at Ned, so did everyone else. "She said lets get a picture."

The group chuckled and gathered for a picture. Ned was in the center, by peter, who had his arm around Y/N leaning over to kiss her cheek. MJ had her arm around Ned, smiling widely. As they all posed the camera clicked, and Lola was very pleased. "you all look beautiful!" Lola said, smiling teary eyed. "Am so proud of you." She gave Ned a big hug. She hugged MJ, Peter and Y/N.

"I'm proud of us too!" Ned exclaimed.

_ - _ - _ - _ - _ - _ - _ - _ - _ - _ - _ - _ - _ - _ - _ - _

Epliogue

After graduation, Peter had planned a romantic date night, Giving Y/N absolutely no details. She walked with Peter up to the rooftop of their shared apartment.

There ware rose petals, candles, and a table and chair set up with a nice bottle of champagne and two glasses set up. Y/N's favorite flowers were in a vase in the center of the small table, The view of the city's skyline was in the distance as they walked. Peter pulled out the chair for her and the two sat.

"Pete this is beautiful..." Y/N smiled gratefully.

"Y/N," Peter began, he was nervous, Y/N could tell, but she kept quiet. She always made peter feel fluttery, He was so madly in love with her.

"Now that we've graduated, and we've got the rest of our lives ahead of us..."

"I know that I want to spend it with you." He says, reaching for something, and getting down on one knee to propose a tiny antique ring. "This was my Aunt May's ring, It was my mothers' too. I want to give this to you and ask," Peter gulped. "Will you marry me?" He asked.

Y/N was elated. She was so in love with him, everything felt so perfect. "Yes!" She exclaimed. Peter slipped the ring onto her finger and she admired it for a moment before embracing Peter. Peter picked her up, twirling her around before kissing her.

The moment was so sweet, they proceeded to pop the bottle of champagne and sip the golden bubbly liquid from their glasses. "I can't wait to spend forever with you." Y/N said, admiring her new ring. "you have no idea how long i've waited to ask you." Peter admitted. "I've carried that ring around for years."

"i'm so glad you found me again."

"You have no idea." Peter said quietly.

Enjoying the moment, there was a breeze in the air, and birds flying by every now and then. It was as if the city yielded for them in that moment.

"So does this mean i'll be Mrs. Spider-man?" she said light heatedly. "Well yes, but maybe don't tell everyone- would kinda defeat the purpose of a secret identity." Peter said with a chuckle. Y/N smiled and laughed. "Y/N Parker." He said. "I like that." Y/N said, and then repeated him to hear herself say the words. "Y/N Parker."

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angelofthenight · 1 year

Text

Maguire!Peter: My (y/n) is ranked for top 10 on Pokémon Go.

Garfield!Peter: My (y/n) is top 8 in candy crush

Holland!Peter: My (y/n)’s top 5 on FBI’s most wanted list

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shawnxstyles · 1 year

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UR LATEST SMUT IS A *Chef kiss* 😛 hmmm how about a smut where Y/n is riding Tom during their love making and her phone rings and she answered it while she’s on top of Tom and that made him turned on more😎

rider

warnings: smut; (f- receiving [fingering, some nipple play], unprotected sex [riding], exhibitionism, dirty talk), some fluff, and language

note: it’s literally midnight. and this is a short thing that’s barely edited.

—

when you woke up this morning, you weren’t surprised when you were attacked with kisses all over your naked body. you were sore all over from the previous night, but love has never hurt so good. you and tom didn’t have a quiet night, so the silence of the morning is deafening.

with much self-control, you push tom’s bulky body off of you and attempt to get up for work. tom doesn’t let you get too far though before pulling you right back into his chest.

“stay,” he whispers groggily. it was hard to have an ounce of self-control when he sounded like that in the morning. to make you even more of a puddle in his arms, he always has a small spray of minty freshness on his nightstand because he knows how much you hate morning breath. he sprays it in his mouth and when you go to argue, he sprays the substance in yours, surprising you.

“now you have no reason to get out of bed,” he kisses your bare shoulder lovingly, trailing down your arm. a familiar shiver mixed of desire and need runs up your spine. you sigh, giving into him.

you have to leave in probably like an hour. what’s the rush?

you rotate your body so you’re towards his sleepy face and connect your lips to his. thankfully, the kiss is tingly with a minty aftertaste as your lips move in sync. your legs shift to either side of him, so you’re now straddling his lap.

his mouth trails down your smooth skin, not neglecting a single inch. when his lips meet your perked nipple, he sucks on it delicately. you sigh again as you close your eyes, pushing your body towards his. his erection stands up hard in between you both, ready for more.

tom’s hand drifts from your plush hip down towards your center, which was pulsing with need by now. when his fingers gently skim over your clit, you gasp, still sensitive from last night’s shenanigans.

“so sensitive, baby,” he coos in your ear. his thumb circles around the nerves as his fingers glide through your soaked folds. “already so wet f’me. good girl.”

you mewl at his words as his middle finger easily slides inside of you. your cunt instantly clenched around his finger, pumping tantalizingly. while his fingers work you magically, your eyes peer down at his neglected length, pre-cum oozing from the rosy tip.

“tom,” you moan as your hand travels down his chiseled torso and to his cock. he hissed when your hand wrapped about his girth, stroking him as slowly as he was thrusting into you. if he teased you, you teased back.

“yes, darling?” he replied breathlessly before kissing your neck to occupy himself. with his morning wood and your ability to make any man fall to their knees, it was difficult for him to not come on the spot.

“i need you inside of me,” you whispered and he groaned against your neck.

you weren’t making it easy when you said things like that.

he pulls his fingers out of your soaking center and gets ready to flip you both over, too desperate to be in you, but you stop him. “actually, can i be on top?”

“fuck, y/n, are ya tryin’ to kill me? yes, of course you can,” tom lets his hands fall down to your hips and smooths them over your ass. tom watches your every move with heart eyes like a cartoon character.

you lift your body up over his erection and direct it to your hole, your arousal leaking onto him. without waiting any longer, you leisurely lower your hips until his full length is in you. you don’t have time to waste, even if you wanted to stay in bed all day, every day with tom. your eyes shut tightly, never fully adjusting to the feeling of his length stretching you out deliciously.

rolling your hips, you both collectively groan into the morning dew. his cock continues to surprise you every time, no matter how many times you two have been together. he knew your body better than anyone, even you sometimes.

once you get confident, you raise your body and drop it back onto his length immediately. tom moans sensually as you cry in pure bliss. his sounds alone could get you off, especially in the morning when his throat was extra scratchy and raspy. you continue at a brisk pace, shifting up and down until his cock twitches needily inside of you.

your walls clutch around him desperately as your thighs burn to keep up with your rapid movements. tom’s hands grope your breasts, tweaking your nipples until you squirm. your entire body is sore and sensitive, so you’re not shocked to be near your orgasm.

“i’m getting close, baby—”

tom is cut off by the alarming blare of your ringtone. your phone vibrates violently on the nightstand, waiting to be answered. your eyes remain shut and concentrated, too determined to reach your orgasm. tom, however, reaches over and snatches the phone and looks at the contact.

“y/n, it’s your boss. you have to answer,” tom informs before moaning as he watches your breasts bounce joyfully in front of him.

god, how did he get so lucky?

“fuck me,” you grumble and slow down your movements. your breathing races and legs burn as if you just ran a mile.

“you’re already doing that, love,” tom winks cheekily, making you roll your eyes. still sitting on his cock, you swipe the answer button. your hands trace the outline of each ridge on his chiseled chest as your boss greets you good morning.

while your boss buzzes about something else in your ear, tom leans down and sucks on your nipple. nails scraping his chest, you hold in a shocked gasp as his teeth graze it temptingly. you can feel his smirk against your skin, smug as always. when his calloused hand drifts down towards your throbbing clit, you knew exactly what kind of game he was playing.

he fiddles with your swollen bud, teasing it until you’re clutching desperately on his cock. he withholds a groan while you harshly bite your lip to remain quiet. as your boss continues to ramble about some stupid, very irrelevant assignment, you occasionally insert an “mhm” for confirmation and agreement.

“since i haven’t been in the office for a week, i wanted to know how the new intern was doing. so, how is he?” your boss asks in-depthly, which is more than a yes or no answer. before you respond, a groan slips past your lips and your eyes widen in fear. tom smirks, trying to contain his laughter bubbling inside of him. his torture on your clit doesn’t quit, even when you begin to talk again. “wow, is he that bad?”

“n-no, he’s great! he’s meeting all his…requirements and–fuck–exceeding some too,” you replied wheezing as tom thrusted his hips upwards into you. you embarrassingly cussed in the middle of your sentence because of him and you wanted nothing more than to throw your phone across the room. waves of heat travel over your skin, begging for the phone call to end already.

“oh…kay then. are you okay, y/n?” he asks, concern lacing his voice. as tom rutted brutally into you and you threatened to whine into your speaker, you agreed to whatever shit he was saying. the call was way too long for you at this point. your orgasm hung teasingly in your reach.

“yes, yes. i’m exercising. never been much of a runner. much more of a bike rider…” then, with the devil on your shoulder giving you the courage, you lift your body up and slam it onto tom’s cock. his head falls backwards, hitting the headboard in the process. just when he didn’t think you could get more attractive, you pull something like that. an intense burn coils in his stomach as you ride him almost unashamedly.

“oh! well, i apologize for interrupting. i’ll see you on monday when i return,” with that, you hear the beep indicating that he ended the phone call. you chuck your phone somewhere on the mattress before gripping tom’s tone shoulders.

without another second, you hop up and down on his length, consuming every inch greedily. both of your needy moans bounce around the room. tom’s hands hold your hips steady, guiding you as you rise and fall on his cock.

your hair was waving messily all over the place, but to tom, it looked like a movie-star in the wind. he was memorized by every movement you made and every feature of you. god, he was obsessed with you. also, with your cunt wrapped completely around him, he’s not sure how much more he can take.

you squeezed around him snuggly, eliciting a deep groan from the back of his throat. he fumbled with your nipples, twisting and pulling as your body perched into his chest. your thighs were on fire, burning like a hardcore workout. and of course, this was the best kind.

“i’m gonna come, tom, shit,” you were exasperated, but your voice was still as erotic as ever.

“let it all go. need your cum ‘round my cock, love,” as his breathless words stumbled from his soft lips, your face scrunched as your eyes rolled back, your orgasm flooding over you.

he always did have a way with words.

your nails indent into his thick skin, marking him from everyone else. your hips continue to rock over his cock, riding out your high as you try to get him to his. when his shaft jerks inside of you, it alerts you that he’s about to come.

“c’mon, baby. come for me.”

“yeah? need it inside of ya?” tom grunted, harshly gripping your body as he pumped into you.

“yes, please! come inside of me, please, tom,” you pleaded, and with a strangled moan, his orgasm explodes against your walls. the back of his head hits the board again with a thud as his seed shoots rapidly inside of you.

your head collapses on his shoulder, exhausted, but more than satisfied. being on top was a lot of work, so tom never asked you to do it, but when you offered, he never denied you. occasionally, you loved controlling the pace, but you knew you found the most pleasure in tom’s demands of dominance.

in panting breaths, you slowly remove tom’s length from inside of you. you both sigh at the lack of touch, the sudden chilliness biting at your still heated skin. you immediately attempt to fix your untamed hair as your face hits the pillow. you groan, really not wanting to get up for work after that.

“better keep all of me inside you. all day,” tom rasps over you before standing up and putting on some boxers.

“planning on it,” you mumble into the fluffy pillow.

“dirty girl,” he walks around to your side of the bed and smacks your bare bottom teasingly. “get up, baby. you’re going to hate me if ya don’t go to work.”

knowing he’s right, you dramatically roll out of bed and make your way to the bathroom. on the way, you feel his orgasm trickling out of you. a warm flush cascades over your skin at the idea of keeping him inside of you for the entire day.

—

tags: @lnmp89 @crybabyddl @pretty-npeach @marine-mayday @aerangi @justanotherpasserby-blog @tinafuentes @moniffazictress11 @eywaheardyou @alwaysclassyeagle @mrstealuregirl @bisexual-desi @sherlockstrangewolf @madsttx @graywrites20 @bradtomlovesya @princesspannnn @raajali3

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#tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland fan fics #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x reader #tom holland one shot #tom holland blurb #tom holland fan fiction #reader insert #fan fictions

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mcuamerica · 2 years

Text

Tom Holland Masterlist

* = requested 💖 = Most Popular (over 200 notes)

Always on My Mind 💖 prologue - one - two - three A history between two performers can be complicated when they have to be lovers in a new movie that could take both their careers to another level.

Cry For Me* Tom and (Y/N) break up and the fans blame her.

The Blue Willow 💖 Series Masterlist In a world of soulmates, you’re left alone until one day, a prince comes to rescue you. (Prince AU)

Main Masterlist

Updated 20 Sept 2022

#tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland au #tom holland fic #tom holland x reader #tom holland reader insert #tom holland fluff #the blue willow #always of my mind

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my-status-single · 23 days

Text

The One Where Peter Parker Has a Baby: Chapter 1

He’s four. His name is Ben. He’s with Happy. They won’t let him run to him. He’s four. His name is Ben. He’s with Happy. He can’t go to him. He’s four. His name is Ben. He’s safe with Happy. He’s safe. His name is Ben. He’s four. He’s Peter’s.

She had been pregnant.

It had been early.

So early that it had been months before she even realised. Half of the universe disappeared, Peter included.

And months later she had given birth to their son.

Their son.

Ben.

Fic Summary: Mostly canon compliant fic that centres around the relationship of Tony Stark's daughter and Peter Parker.

From the Author: This is a Peter Parker/Reader fic. It jumps back and forth between the "present" (after the blip is reversed) and the past (pre blip reversal). The main focus is Peter and our girl Y/N, but there will be exploration into other relationships as well. These include but are not limited to Tony/Steve Peter/Harley Harley/Harry Peter/Harley/Harry Steve/Bucky Tony/Stephen. Each chapter will have content warnings listed that are specific to the chapter just for added security, there will also be a summary of the chapter if the content is something you don't want to engage with but would like to continue to the next chapter. There will also be a comprehensive list of warnings. The severity of these topics varies from very intense to simply implied. Be sure to check the individual chapters for more detailed descriptions of how these themes are used.

Fic Content Warning: Underage sex, unplanned pregnancy, teen pregnancy, polyamoury, child abuse/neglect, parental death, suicide, self harm, Tony Stark in Endgame Chapter Word Count: 1743 Chapter Summary: This chapter sets up the premise of the story. Touches briefly on Peter and Y/N's relationship, as well as introduces us to Y/N's powers. Chapter Content Warning: Teen regnancy/unplanned pregnancy-We discover that Y/N was pregnant during the blip. Peter and Y/N are in high school at this point. Blip-The Blip is a part of this series, the way Peter was blipped is mentioned Mentions of anxiety/depression-It is implied that Y/N struggled/struggles with mental health Parental death (not Tony)-Peter has dead parents Descriptions of injuries-After the battle with Thanos many characters are injured, Tony and Y/N's are discussed Medical themes-Tony and Y/N are in a medical centre, Y/N is in a coma

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Please, if there is ever something in this or any of my fics that you feel needs a content warning, feel free to message me and I will make sure to add it. I want this to be a safe place for everyone.

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Ao3 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

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May 2023

Peter has known her for as long as he’s known anything.

Back before his parents died, they had been prominent members of the Oscorp Foundation. They worked directly with Norman, and so Peter grew up spending a lot of his time with Harry Osborn. Occasionally, though, there would be a collaboration between Oscorp and their largest competitor, Stark Industries. With S.I. came Tony Stark, and with Tony came his daughter.

She was about a year younger than him and Harry but she held her own just fine. She was smart as a whip and full of fire.

He’d been in love with her for longer than he knew what love was.

They had taken such a liking to each other that Tony made the effort to get them together as often as possible. Eventually, moving them to New York full-time after Peter’s parents died. Tony made an effort to keep up the relationship even then. He did it for his daughter; she’d become so attached to Peter. And he had done the same.

The sun rose and set with Y/N Stark as far as he was concerned.

The bond between them grew as they did. They became halves of the same whole. One rarely without the other. He held her when she sobbed, broken and exhausted, after spending the court-ordered time with her mother. She calmed his overloads after he was bit. They knew each other instinctually. Better than they knew themselves in some ways.

And yet, there was never anything romantic.

Until there was.

They both knew. When they’d grown old enough to understand what love, marriage, and dating were, they knew it was inevitable. That there was no Peter without y/n.

And that is a very daunting thing to face at such a young age.

And they understood that there would be no going back once they crossed that line.

They knew they would cross it eventually.

But they had all the time in the world to cross it. And now, when they were so perfect as friends, neither wanted to risk what they had.

And so they didn’t.

There was flirtation that couldn’t be helped. There were touches that toed the line between platonic and romantic, touches that lingered. Nights where they would fall asleep next to each other and wake up in a state where you couldn’t tell where one started and the other ended.

But it never went further.

Until it did

They were good kids, really. Good students, excelling in their studies, involving themselves in extracurriculars, making a difference in their community. They were good avengers as well. They weren’t officially on the team, certainly were never put in harms way. But Tony allowed them to patrol the city in the evenings, and to train with the team at the compound on the weekends. They excelled there too.

But everyone has times when they just need a break.

It happened the first time during one of those breaks

They had finished midterms, Natasha had been kicking their asses in training for the last month, they were tired.

And so they snuck into the hangar and hacked one of the jets. Because she could override her father’s protocols without even blinking. Spain. She had wanted to go to Spain. He’d remembered her talking about it, so he puts in the coordinates and settles in for the ride.

They’ve shared a room, a bed, countless times at this point and yet somehow this is different. Somehow this leads to their mouths on each other and their virginities lost to each other.

Things change after that.

It takes a while for them to get over it. To admit “I want you” and “I always have” and “I don’t want to wait anymore”. But once they do, once they allow those walls to be broken down they are inseparable.

The funniest thing about the whole ridiculous situation is their behaviour barely changes.

They simply kiss now. Because they already spent nights in the others bed, they already were always touching the other somehow, they already could read the others mind and anticipate their needs. So at school, no one noticed they were dating until Peter gave her a quick kiss before running off to some sort of internship activity.

Its been years now. They are perfect. Ideal. He loves her with everything in him.

And that’s why, when the invasion starts, he webs her to the bed so she can’t follow after him as he goes toward the battle.

Why he goes to the battle despite her screams, her begging, her pleading. Why his last words as he disintegrates in Tony’s arms, after pleading whispers of “I don’t want to go” are “I don’t want to leave her.”

He spends five years living a life with no memory of his previous one. No memory of her, of Tony, of Spiderman.

When the dust finally settles after that final battle, he’s the one screaming, begging pleading. Because his girl, his brilliant, beautiful, reckless girl, simply refused to let her father die.

She’s always had them. The powers, the enhancements, that were so graciously forced upon her by her mother.

She hated them, hated why she ended up with them. But they gave her the ability to save Tony’s life, despite it being at nearly at the cost of her own.

He’s held back, not sure by whom. He hears Steve yell for assistance to get them both off the battle field and to get them immediate medical assistance.

Her powers are…complicated.

Her ability to heal is incredible. Whether it be herself or others. But it comes at a cost.

Healing takes energy. She’s able to choose, when healing injuries, whether to use the injured person’s energy or her own. The severity of the wound would usually influence her decision.

She was comfortable using someone else’s energy for smaller things, scrapes, bruises, most of Peter’s injuries because of his own accelerated healing. But bigger things…she would use her own “Because I heal better” she would say.

Like after he’d taken the weight of a building their sophomore year, she’d used her own energy to heal that. He watched the colour drain from her face, watched slashes and bruises come and go across her skin, watched her exhaust herself right in front of him as the pain eased from his body.

After a fight like this neither had the energy to heal something as severe as this. But she did it anyway.

She does heal better. Quicker, more efficiently. It’s hard to leave any kind of mark on her because her body just rids itself of it.

So she lay in a hospital bed, half dead, as her body begins to repair what should be fatal.

Tony was exhausted, on the brink of death, he’d had nothing left to use up. She herself had been spent. So she took, and she gave. She gave what little energy she had left to Tony and took as much pain and damage from him as she could. Took as much as she could until her body gave out.

Tony woke later that night. Exhausted. Badly scarred. Weaker than Peter had ever seen him.

But alive.

Peter is sitting at her bedside now, holding her hand in his. Needing to feel that it’s warm, needing physical proof that she’s alive. He’s fading in and out of consciousness. Fighting sleep because he can’t risk something happening while he’s asleep. It would be a restless, nightmare filled sleep anyway.

“Tony, we shouldn’t be arguing about this; you’re exhausted; you need to rest. We can talk about this la-“ He can hear Steve’s voice in the next room.

“We’re talking about this now.” Tony responds.

Peter, even with his heightened senses, can barely hear him. He tries to tune them out, focusing instead on her heartbeat. A comforting, familiar sound that lulls him into a sense of security.

But the next words he hears make his blood run cold, and his head snap up.

“He’s my grandson. He’s likely scared. He can’t have his mother, so let me see him.” Tony sounds angry despite his severely weakened state.

“Tony…” Steve says gently. “Look at yourself. You’ll only scare him more. He’s my grandson too. Let me look after him.”

Peter takes a moment.

Grandson.

Tony has no biological children other than y/n. There is Harley…a boy Peter’s age that Tony had taken in when they were thirteen. They’d been fast friends. And…maybe Harley could have had a child in the five years Peter had been gone…except he’d been in the same place as Harley for the last five years, and there was no child.

So…so that must mean that y/n had…that she’d had a child.

Sometime in the last five years she’d moved on…gotten pregnant…had a baby? He shakes his head, his chest aches. His feet move before he’s fully aware of it. He walks into Tony’s room. He stands there silently, until Steve notices him.

“Peter.” He whispers, a sigh in his voice.

Peter laughs weakly, tears on his cheeks that have no right to be there. It had been five years, he had no right to have expected her to wait five years. “I um…” He clears his throat, sniffing. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop…it’s just so quiet here.” He says quietly.

“Kid ther-“ Tony starts but Peter holds up a hand.

“Don’t…don’t. It’s okay. You don’t need to defend…just…if there’s a way I can help? I could call his father, if someone hasn’t already or…or go pick up anything that he might need…or…or I can fuck off if you think that would be bett-“

“Peter.” Tony says as firmly as he’s capable of. Peter looks up. “Come sit. We need to talk.” He says, gentler now.

She had been pregnant.

It had been early.

So early that it had been months before she even realised. Half of the universe disappeared, Peter included.

And months later she had given birth to their son.

Their son.

Ben.

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maple-the-awesome · 2 years

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A Boy? ||

Pairing: Platonic! Matt Murdock x Reader x MCU! Peter Parker

Words: 3,416

Overview: Matt isn't sure what to think when you ask him to be your friend's lawyer; surprised someone's actually wormed their way into your heart or protective because it's a boy. This is honestly one of my favorite fics I've written in a while. Matt would definitely be able to multitask between being a really good lawyer and a protective dad 😍

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"I...need your help."

It's not unheard of for you to visit Matt at the firm every now and again, especially in recent months where you've almost become comfortable with the idea, so when he first recognized the pattern of your footsteps approaching the door, he thought nothing of it and instead prepared himself for one of your typical yet playful insults; the closest form of affection you've ever been know to show.

Even if taking a moment to consider the chance that you might be here to ask for something, he would've figured it to be something simple that comes with a stubborn bite to your words. Perhaps you lost your key to the apartment and have come to him for a spare or maybe you just need a few dollars to buy lunch. Aloud both outcomes do sound unlikely since Matt knows you're rather organized and calculated with your money after having a childhood of nothing, but he can't imagine any other reason you'd be requesting his help right now.

To his surprise, there's a noticeably quickened pace to your heartbeat and a quiet hesitation with your movements as you shut the office door behind yourself. You're afraid not embarrassed which isn't an emotion you don't often allow yourself to show and it's this awareness that raises concern in Matt.

Matt has known you for about two years now- seven years if you count the time passed during the Blip not that you were around for it-, but he'd be reluctant to say you're close, at least in a mutual sense.

You're dangerously headstrong, as he's learned, especially when it comes to your goal of being entirely self sufficient. You hate to admit weakness in any form, both physically and emotionally, thus you've developed the terrible habit of distancing yourself from others even if they have nothing except good intentions. While Matt can't justly critique you on a practice he himself is guilty of, he has tried his best throughout the years to earn your trust while reminding himself never to take your pushback personally.

You're rather young, only just hitting eighteen yet you've arguably been through more heartache than even he has which is certainly saying something. Orphaned then trained to basically act as a child soldier, it's safe to say you never had a normal childhood which ultimately influenced your personality and difficulty relating to others. When Matt- or better put Daredevil- first met you, you were barely more than a feisty teenager accustomed to only relying on yourself and living life at the mercy of none other than Wilson Fisk. You were cold just as those around you, but at the end of day, you were also just a shattered kid trying to survive; a little example of what's wrong with this cruel world.

You understandably hated Daredevil in the beginning, seeing him as the enemy you've been conditioned to destroy. You both had a few small run-ins with each other before one particular fight that ended with the building exploding. All you can really remember of that night was being alone and heavily injured within the flames, your 'friends' having long saved their own asses by willingly leaving you behind to choke on hazardous smoke. Next thing you knew, you awoke in Daredevil's dark apartment, the man in question explaining the situation after calmly stopping you from attempting to stab him with the pair of scissors left on the table.

Even though you had run right back to Fisk by sunrise, Matt knew there must be promise in you since you never sold out his location and his faith would prove true when he slowly yet surely managed to gain enough of your trust to help you believe in his word that he'd take down Fisk in turn for your cooperation. He kept that word, too, freeing you from the chains that held you down to a life of crime, however the scars that remained took far longer to even begin the process of healing.

Matt generously took you in, although you still struggled with plenty of old habits, the worst being stealing and getting into fights on the street. Whenever he'd confront you on it, a heated argument would ensue until you'd eventually run off, forcing Matt to go out looking for you upon your refusal to return home on your own. There were also the nightmares that plagued your sleep each night, often frightening Matt when he'd be out as Daredevil only to hear your blood curdling screams from back at the apartment, but you've always refused to share those inner demons even now.

Matt must admit that those early days truly tested him. He hated himself for thinking it, but at times he'd wonder if you both wouldn't have been better off if he hadn't nudged his way into your life to begin with. Before you, he was a single man who couldn't even keep a girlfriend and had not an ounce of experience being any sort of role model or father figure. Maybe the words you tended to scream at him were right. You don't need him, after all, he's just as broken as you; two brokens can't possibly make a right, can they?

Fortunately despite his insecurities and worries, it got easier. He had the constant support of Foggy and Karen while Father Lantom provided religious reminders as guidance. Overtime, your behavior shifted even if slowly. You learned that the apartment is a safe place and that there's always food in the fridge, so no need to steal. As you bonded more, Matt taught you to meditate to better control your emotions which also seemed to help smooth your nightmares. You even began feeling comfortable while in the presence of his friends which was a huge step forward.

Ultimately, Matt's proud of you and everything you've managed to overcome. Of course, it's not to say rough spots don't still present themselves, in fact the Blip itself has backtracked your progress slightly, although no one can blame you for that. You were terrified to learn you had disappeared for five years, the only good coming out of that entire situation being the realization that your dusting had destroyed Matt. Foggy explained that to you one day when Matt wasn't at the firm during your visit. According to him, his friend barely ate or slept, blaming himself for not somehow protecting you as he promised even if it really was out of his hands. It was this knowledge that made you feel loved for the first time in your life and you've since allowed yourself to finally trust Matt's care towards you (not that you've ever found a way to tell him that yet).

While you can't seem to find the words to express your affection towards the only parent figure you've ever known, you've decided to go to him for help towards your current dilemma which is the reason for your visit today, but irritatingly despite your trust, you find yourself nervous, your past habits betraying you with the fear that perhaps there's a ever so small possibly Matt will turn you away.

"What's up?" He raises an eyebrow, sensing your nerves which confuse him. He's certain he would've heard by now if Fisk is out of jail and there's no way you'd let anyone else on the street push you around. Maybe it's school? You don't tell him anything about school other than confirming your grades are good, so he'd be a little surprised if you ask for help studying, but he would hope you know he'll be happy to help if it's that.

You're chewing on your lip, debating if you should continue with your request. You truly thought you'd have no problem coming to him anymore and you know he's a good guy who can help, after all he's already done so much for you by taking you under his wing. Still, what if he gets mad because he has done enough for you and you have no right asking for more?

"What's wrong?" Matt changes his question, his voice softer now as he finally sets down his papers. He's growing more concerned, although he fights not to show it in case the emotion might scare you away.

"Okay, so um...There's...This boy..."

His face scrunches, but he's not sure why. One side of him wants to immediately direct you towards Karen, insisting she'd be a much better option for that type of advice than himself, however the other louder side feels a curd of anger inside his stomach, wanting to press on about why you're mentioning 'a boy'.

What boy? Do you have a boyfriend? When did that happen? Yes, you're eighteen which many would argue is old enough to date, but it doesn't feel like it. You should at least be thirty before you date, right?

"A boy...?"

"Yeah- from school," that was a lie; a blatant one at that. You must've met him somewhere. Where? You refuse to say," he's not actually just any boy. He's...Well, he's my friend-"

Matt blinks, certain this is the first time he's ever heard you use the word 'friend' before. This 'boy' must really be something special to have you use such an intimate term towards him.

"-And he's run into some legal trouble recently."

Now Matt's lips are curled into a scowl he can't hide as he leans back in his chair with crossed arms. Oh no. A boy involved in legal trouble is not the type to be involved with you. Sure, you've had a lengthy criminal record yourself, but you weren't ever charged and are, what Matt would call, a victim. You're a good kid now even if you could still kick someone's teeth in if desired. No law breaking boy needs to be getting mixed up with you!

"What kind of 'legal trouble'?" His question is a little too stern not that he notices much, instead keeping his covered eyes directed to where he hears you standing. If he had a clear mind, he might've regretted that forceful tone once you begin fidgeting with your hands.

"He...Have you heard the news lately?"

So, this guy has gotten himself in enough trouble to be on the news? This conversation isn't going in a direction Matt likes," I have, but you'll have to be more specific. The news covers a lot of criminal activity."

"I wouldn't go as far as to call him a 'criminal'. He's innocent, he's just gotten the short end of the stick is all-"

"-And did he tell you that?"

"No- Well yeah, but I knew it already! I mean it when I say he's a really good guy, Matt. Like amazingly good; almost too good to be true, but he is! He'd do anything to protect this city because he's just that caring and sweet. He's...Well, he's, um..." Matt raises an eyebrow as you trail off, although he pays more attention to the way your body heats up and your heartbeat accelerates.

Oh...

Now Matt has a true dilemma on his hands. Until now, you've never mentioned having a single friend before, so one side of him wants to be happy with the knowledge that you, the most stubborn and distant person to exist on planet Earth (aside from maybe Frank), have fallen in love. Maybe it's not the most comfortable discussion and he can't deny he'd worry regardless of the circumstances, but if it's something that allows you to feel normal for once, then that's excellent. The only problem is he can't say he agrees with your criminal type. Why can't you be interested in someone law abiding?

Fiddling with your fingers, you miss Matt's silence as a sign of conflict and instead take it as him waiting for you to get to the point, thus you do with a quiet, meek voice,"...and he's kinda Spiderman..."

Matt blinks, caught off guard by your confession which had almost been muted by his inner thoughts," Spiderman...? The vigilante from Queens?"

You nod," I guess there's no harm in telling you his name's Peter Parker since the whole world already knows that now...Anyways I met him a while ago and we became friends, but...Well, you've heard what the news is trying to say about him, right? His identity got leaked and now they're trying to pin him as some sort of killer, but he isn't- I know he isn't. Peter's like you. He'd never kill anyone even if they're some crazed villain the streets would be safer without. I mean, you can tell he didn't do it just by how upset he is over all this!

"They're trying to ruin his life- not only his life, but also his friends' and aunt's...They won't let off and he doesn't deserve it. He needs a lawyer-a really good one at that. I thought that maybe...Maybe you could help him out, ya' know? You said us vigilantes have to look out for one another, right? So, could you help Spiderman? E-Even if just as one last favor for me? I swear I won't ask for anything else just...Can you please help him, Matt? Please..."

There's tears in your eyes at this point which is a rare occurrence usually only found on nights of particularly bad nightmares. This is one of those moments where it's clear you're only a kid. Standing in front of his desk, you keep your head bowed and hands clenched to the bottom of your shirt as you stubbornly fight to not get emotional, a fight nearly lost by that sniffle of your nose. Even after your nightmares or back before Matt saved you from Fisk, you've never been this scared. Of course, there's a clear difference from then and now.

This Peter Parker must really be something special. He must be able to bring a smile to your face by his presences alone, drawing hours of laughter from you over countless dumb jokes or helping you let loose by inviting you out with him and his friends, maybe even for movie nights at his apartment which might explain those few days over the last month where you didn't return home until after midnight.

Those nights he must listen to your worries, being the only person trusted with the details of your nightmares as he cuddles you close and promises to never let anyone hurt you again. He must make you feel like a giddy teenager, an experience that had once been stolen from you by people like Fisk. Around Peter, you aren't a child soldier or a dangerous killer or even a broken soul; you're (Y/n) (L/n), just a normal girl who'd do anything to protect the most precious thing she has to hold.

It takes you by surprise when Matt stands up suddenly, taking his cane from where it had been folded on the table and clicking it into place with a 'snap'," do you know his address?"

"H-Huh?"

"I'm assuming you know where Parker lives, correct? There's a lot to discuss if I'm going to help him with his legal troubles so it's best we get started immediately. Isn't that what you want?" Matt has a faint hint of a smirk pulling at his lips as he walks past you to the door, only stopping with his hand upon the doorknob.

Your eyes follow him, the wheels inside your head turning as you process his words. Soon, you're beaming, a noticeable uplift to your voice with relieved tears being blinked back in your eyes," thank you, Matt!"

"Take a seat, Mr. Parker."

When Matt had announced the charges against Peter won't stick, the teen had been endlessly thankful. Between you finding him a good lawyer that didn't dent his pockets and said lawyer being able to remove his legal troubles, he's been giddy with relief and saw no issue with Matt's request to speak with him privately before his departure, after all, it's the least he can do for someone who's already helped him so much during his greatest time of need.

Even after being told to sit back down, Peter does so with a unfazed smile on his face," is there something else I need to be worried about? You said the charges aren't going to stick, so I should be good, yeah?"

"Oh, I don't want to talk to you about anything related to the court."

Now Peter blinks in confusion, his smile taking a hit," oh?"

"I want to talk to you about (Y/n)."

"O-Oh..." Peter's confusion turns into a fiery blush, one that makes Matt's own face twist into a look of disgust he fights to hide.

"How long have you known her?"

"Um, about a year I think- Well, actually, I guess it's technically been about five years since we met before the Snap but-"

"-And has she told you about her past working for Wilson Fisk?"

Peter's heart noticeably skips a beat as he looks to Matt with wide eyes. His mouth opens in preparation to lie to his lawyer for the first time, denying that you'd ever work for Fisk because you definitely aren't some teenage vigilante he's been fighting alongside as Spiderman since the last year, however after giving his response some thought and studying Matt's careful expression, he decides to just be truthful.

"Yeah...Yeah, she has."

"Then you must understand how difficult it's been for her to trust other people after everything she's been through. I must admit I was surprised when she first brought you up. She was very adamant that I act as your lawyer and since then she's spent nearly every day asking about you. She's clearly extremely fond of you."

It probably isn't the best time for it, but a bashful smile crosses Peter's face, his gaze falling to his hands as he dwells on Matt's words. You? Fond of him? That's not allowed, is it?

Of course, Peter's always had eyes for you. Ned and MJ tease him about it all the time. Hell, it's why Spiderman even decided to approach you in the first place. He had been utterly starstruck to watch some super hot vigilante swoop in out of nowhere and apprehend a pair of criminals before he could. In awe, he just had to walk up to you and give some incredibly lame joke that successfully resulted in you giving a goddess's laugh that numbed his heart. Since then, Peter made sure to become your friend (and biggest admirer), so to think you might actually be fond of him, too? Well, he could never be luckier!

"With that said, I wanted to thank you, Peter," the young hero is taken back by Matt's sudden words of gratitude," you make her happy; happier than anyone else has managed. Hearing her talk about you is the first time I've heard her sound like a normal teen, and if you were to ask her out, I'm certain she'd agree. I'll even give you my blessing to do so."

"A-Ah! Thank...Thank you, sir!"

"But-" Matt adjusts his glasses before suddenly leaning forward, his hands cupped together as a shadow crosses over his expression,"- just know, that if you ever do anything to break my daughter's heart, I'll personally ensure you deal with the Devil."

The breath in Peter's throat catches, his mouth opening and closing a few times in attempts to grasp onto some quick response which he's normally talented in delivering, but alas, nothing comes. Spiderman really shouldn't have to fear a blind man, but there's something about Matt's tone that sinks into his bones as a frigid warning that begs him to be smart, not dismissive.

Grabbing his cane, the lawyer calmly stands and walks past Peter, only stopping to pat a stern hand on his shoulder," good talk, Spidy."

It's cruel; the way Matt leaves behind a shocked Peter Parker while wearing a smug smirk of his own. He's not even guilty in the slightest, shown by the way he doesn't even care to rid of his expression when noticing you leaned against the wall outside the apartment door with crossed arms. He assumes by the harshness to your voice that your eyebrows are pinched downwards as you glare his way- a glare he's too familiar with feeling at this point to be bothered.

"Are you serious?"

"What?" He gives a mocked look of innocents that you refuse to buy.

Instead, you suck in a breath, fighting to ignore both your burning cheeks along with your irritation towards the lawyer and his poor attempt at playing dumb. Marching on by, you purposely bump into his shoulder, hissing under your breath,"...that wasn't cool, dad..."

#peter parker x reader #x reader #reader insert #peter parker #mcu peter parker #tom holland #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock x reader #spiderman x reader #spiderman #marvel #daredevil x reader #daredevil #charlie cox #marvel x reader

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peeterparkr · 2 years

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perennial;tom holland|final chapter.

chapter nineteen: perennial↳ meanings: lasting or existing for a long or apparently infinite time; enduring or continually recurring..

chapter summary: a wedding, a storm and a question pairing: tom holland x y/n warnings: :) none I think, except I proof read it with covid so it might be messy word count: 11.5K

previous chapter perennial masterlist.

perfidy ( series masterlist)

it took me ages to write this, I am so sorry, I procrastinated this long enough because I didn't want to let go of it just yet. Thank you to every single one of you who read this and who is still here. I'm so sorry it took so long and I hope it was worth it. I loved this story and writing it was a true pleasure. Hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.

Please help me out reblogging tags havent been working for me and I know this will flop but I’m really happy I finally finished this. Enjoy!!

“It’s Harry!” Y/N said as she saw curled wet hair, from a distance, growing with the humidity. A tailor-made tuxedo walking with his arms hugging a bunch of umbrellas as he was trying to open James’ car trunk.

Tom was as shocked as y/n was and thankfully forgot the flirting comment she thought she had stupidly said. That was a lie, he wouldn’t forget it.

He couldn’t. And it wasn’t stupid.

Because there was a door that could be opened. And it was easy to live with hope. Knowing he’d risk it all just to lose her again.

She stopped the car as they both watched Harry.

Tom hadn’t forgotten about the comment. Instead he kept replaying it in his head.

Maybe it was more than he actually thought it was. Maybe it wasn’t.

Tom had been different since the breakup. He realized he had to grow, for her, sure. But mostly for himself. He realized he was only kidding himself if he tried admitting that it wasn’t working. He knew that time was playing a joke on him. Sometimes it went too fast and some others, it stopped.

He knew they both were the problem and the problem was that they… didn’t really see it.

Although, he had tried moving on that is. Because at some point, and giving it quite a thought, he realized that his friendship with her had been the most valuable thing he’d earned. And though romance was never his lack, he knew he had to learn who he was with her in his life without wanting anything more than a smile.

It was hard, however. Like cheating to his own heart. Broken hearts caused by oneself often are the most painful.

How does one move on knowing both of you love each other?

What even is love? If not a promise to stay or a promise to fight.

How hard it is to keep away from a person who was once your everything. To control impulses. Hold hands to himself and not kiss a cheek. Hold back words. The urging impulse.

He felt ready, yet there was something holding him back. Perhaps fear. Fear often shadows the light that love can give.

Good thing he had his mind preoccupied.

Harry was walking right to the place where they thought they would find him.

Tom knew they would find him. And he was close to where Tom’s heart told him Harry would be. Near Harry’s first kiss with Emma. Near the park. A park that Harry and y/n had discovered, a quiet place for them to think. To talk. And later for Harry, apparently, to make out with Emma.

Tom didn’t know how to explain it, but he had known he’d find him there. Outside that stupid shop. A shop that sold umbrellas, and raincoats only.

Tom wouldn’t have guessed he’d be at that shop, but he had known he’d be at the cafe beside it.

Escaping or not, Harry often tended to go to places where he found familiarity.

Tom figured he had gone to the park or the cafe to come up with a solution. Or to soothe his mind, he understood marrying can be… scary.

“How the fuck did we know he’d be here?” Y/N questioned.

Maybe it was luck. Maybe both of them knew his brother. Maybe…

Harry was under the rain, his hair falling down to his eyebrows. With umbrellas hanging from his fingers as some others slipped off him. Struggling. A caricature of someone who looked very familiar to Harry but who Tom didn’t recognize. He was in shambles. And of course he’d be.

Y/n parked right behind him.

“Harry!” Y/n yelled trying to get his attention as she jumped out of the car. The heavy rain making her heels click against the water.

Harry only turned to her as he tried hugging the umbrellas. “Y/N? Tom? What are you doing here?”

He sounded…conflicted yet relieved.

“We thought you had escaped! We were looking for you, you fucking moron!” Tom yelled at his brother as soon as he hopped out of the car. “What on earth are you doing?”

The rain was heavy, annoyingly enough. Both y/n’s dress and Tom suit were nearly soaked within seconds.

“I’m getting umbrellas! The wedding is outside!” Harry explained. “I saw the weather report and if you can’t fucking guess it from this, it’s raining!”

“You’re not escaping?” Y/n questioned.

Harry didn answer right away. Tom and y/n bared witness to the troubling thoughts Harry was currently having.

“Harry?” Tom reinforced.

“N-No-no! No!” He had stuttered. “I—I saw the weather report this morning, and I wanted to come up with a solution so I came to the park to think and then I wanted a tea to calm myself down and like bloody magic, this shop sells umbrellas!” Harry explained.

It wasn’t magic though, it was because they were Harry and Emma. Of course there would be a bloody rain shop beside him. The universe plotted for them. Was this love? Having second thoughts?

Tom and y/n turned to each other as if deciding to believe him or not. They decided to believe him for his own sake. Or ignore it, even though they both thought they’d found Tom’s brother in a very compromising position.

“Bloody hell, Harry!” Tom exclaimed. “You scared us, fucking idiot.”

But then again, who were Tom and y/n to judge?

“Can we talk about that later? Help me get all of this and buy some more! I ran out of cash!” Harry said.

Tom directed a glance at y/n. “Go back, I’ll get more. I’ll drive back in a bit.”

He needed time. To think. As if to give the wedding the opportunity to humor him, besides, aren’t weddings supposed to engage romance and other activities?

Y/N was hesitant at first but agreed as she drove away with Harry. She understood that it was Tom’s plan to get Harry back as soon as possible.

It didn’t take Tom much. But it gave him time to think. About him. About her. Go over and over again the story yet once again.

Was their love ever enough if they barely knew what love was?

There were regrets still. But there was more regret lately, for shutting up how he felt. For driving away from her. Fear of losing her. Completely.

He had lost her so many times before and losing her now when he had something to latch on would be the one most painful thing. He didn’t want to ruin it by trying to hold on to something more.

Love, as we know, is complicated. And to slow down when they once went beyond a speed limit was agonizing and disappointing.

Because… what is love but being hurt when it ends?

The rain fell heavier now, as if it was humoring him into his sadness and distress. His mind had not been the same since he had dared to open a drawer full of memories that he had forgotten why he had to keep them away.

A drawer that held down her smell, that bottle of perfume that she often wore in her daily routine, that also kept her kiss with that red lipstick that she’d bought. A few nights with him were also kept there, a few polaroids, an old dvd and a journal that had the audacity to tell their story.

Tom had gone through it and he was reminded of a script that he once read and broke his heart. But the journal told another story. As if it was the same one but from another perspective. A pretty one.

With flowers, here and there. With the meaning of flowers that he didn’t quite understand, the real ones and the ones she gave to them.

Yellow flowers: often spreading joy.

Was her journal… their love?

He got the umbrellas. And wanted to believe his brother, had he really been concerned about that? Or was he really worried about the rain?

Tom went to another shop to buy even more umbrellas, though he wanted to assume they’d have more at the hotel. He found an umbrella with yellow flowers, sunflowers.

But it seemed there was a bigger storm awaiting for him.

He kept thinking how he didn’t need much before, just her laughter echoing behind.

The storm inside the hotel wasn’t as inviting. Apparently Emma had learned the news.

“Emma? Are—are you there? Please let me explain myself.” Tom saw his brother against a door, defeated.

James, Clark and Sam were behind him.

Y/N was at the end of the aisle, talking to Tim. Tom, although had tried to grow past the jealousy and although he knew Timmy was dating Lily he couldn’t help but wonder sometimes.

Y/N had never truly forgotten about Tim, and Tim had never truly let go of her. And Tom knew they never would.

Tom didn’t blame Tim anymore, how hard was y/n to move on from.

Tom had gotten used to them, Tim and y/n. Because Tim had realized whatever he’d felt for y/n was less important than keeping her in his life.

Tom needed advice on that matter. How does one ever move on from love? If that’s really what they felt.

Did Tim ever love y/n? Did y/n ever love Tim? How would Tom know? How does one know when love is enough or if your love is supposed to last?

Tom heard just a bit of the conversation. Emma believed Harry had escaped. But everyone kept saying the only thing that mattered in the end was that he was there.

Emma was angry. Harry was regretful.

But she listened.

And then didn’t.

“It’s not even you running away that bothers me,” Emma said. “We need to cancel it, Harry, everything is against us, always,” Emma said behind the door. “Don’t you think it’s a sign? We should call it off—“

“I don’t fucking care if there’s a storm, I love you and I want to marry you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you even if all the odds are against us.” Harry’s words resonated.

Even if the odds were against them.

How Harry managed to convince Emma that he hadn’t escaped was a mystery to Tom.

He hadn’t quite listened to anything, not really. Or he had and simply decided he’d use it for his own advantage.

Fight against odds. He should’ve. Probably. Was that love?

Was love fighting against all odds?

“Can I dry my hair in your room?” Y/N asked, bringing Tom back to his mind after a few scenes happened and Tom decided to ignore. “And… re-do my makeup. And maybe shower?”

Her room was shared with Emma, and though she would have it for herself that night as Emma would clearly not spend her wedding night with y/n, she was in need of another room. Because y/n, although a maid of honor, she needed to redo everything as the rain had almost ruined the masterpiece she had created before.

Tom accepted.

They both took a shower, separately,clearly, to avoid any other circumstances that might lead to a boulder in their path.

Y/n said she didn’t want to catch a cold from the soaking rain. Tom said he felt he smelled.

After he was finished, he watched her from the mirror in the bathroom as she sat on the bed, and it felt so natural.

Very rutinary, how they were comfortable around each other enough. Tom was shirtless, only a towel around his waist as he was letting his shirt dry enough to attempt to iron it. She was wearing a hoodie she had borrowed while her dress was drying.

“He did try to escape,” Y/N said, as she brushed her wet hair.

Tom frowned. “He did?”

“Yeah.”

Harry had indeed tried to escape and although it made barely any sense to Tom, y/n explained how Harry was scared of odds being against him and Emma. How Harry had felt it as a sign, indeed, how the first time they got engaged their party was ruined, how when he’d realized his feelings she had left, how when they got back together their schedules went wrong, and how on their wedding day, ironically enough, it was raining.

The universe telling them not to do it, he had said. But Harry had realized, how even if everything was against them, he still loved her and it was all that mattered. All that mattered was how they had overcome each rock thrown their way.

“I guess,” y/n said, “we did have something to do with it. He said it, how he—“she cleared her throat. “You know, he did say something about being miserable if you don’t try at least.”

Tom didn’t answer, he only stayed watching himself in the mirror.

Yes, miserable. That’s the word.

Silence filled the room once again, and there was barely anything to talk about. But it didn’t feel awkward, or wrong.

Tom missed her silence, and not in the way that he didn’t like talking. He missed the way he could have silence and peace with her, and it was alright.

Yet right now her silence meant his mind being loud, and he probably didn’t like that.

She walked to his side picking up the hair drier, Tom should’ve and could’ve left but didn’t.

“Hey, I’ve got to be honest with you,” Tom called out, hopeful she’d be able to listen to him even with the drier on.

“Hm?” She crossed her sight with his reflection.

Tom gulped, grabbing his toothbrush.

“Uh, the reason I’ve been avoiding you,” Tom started loud enough for her to hear him. “It… it was because I… well I opened your drawer,” he said, getting the toothpaste out.

Y/N turned off the hair drier. “What drawer?”

Tom gulped. “The one you had at my place, your drawer.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, still some stuff there.”

There was a silence as y/n looked into her makeup bag, breathing in slowly, as if trying to rearrange her thoughts. Tom tried to distract himself by brushing his teeth. But it wasn’t enough. His mind was going from the thought of the stupid drawer to the fact they were being them again. Sharing a mirror, while she did her makeup and he fixed himself. But now they weren’t kissing each other's cheeks or giving dirty looks. It was just them sharing a stupid space, not a momnet.

“I thought I had… taken everything,” she said.

Tom shook his head and hummed.

“I’m… sorry, I’ll pick it up in a few days,” she nodded.

“I found your notebook,” he said after spitting. “Your journal.”

She instinctively handed him the towel to clean himself and then reached for his hair brush, meeting her hand with his. “Oh, sorry I was about to hand it to you.” She still knew his routine. She cleared her throat. “My journal?” she chuckled. “Well it’s not really a journal it’s…”

Tom leaned against the sink, staring at her reflection, directing a smirk. “You really are impressively cheesy,” he teased.

She smiled, as she was cleaning off the ruined makeup. “I tend to be, yes.”

“Pressed flowers?” He asked, remembering the notebook. Flowers pressed here and there, with pictures of them and a perfect memory of them.

She scrunched her nose. “Yeah.

“Writing the dates? Adding Polaroids,” he kept watching her as she was blushing, trying to focus on her makeup instead. He helped her get her hair off her face. Her eyes flickered as he did.

“Look, I’m very cheesy and it was romantic and sweet in my head,” she explained, annoyed, as she started applying her makeup. Tom knew her, though, how she was annoyed when he took control of the situation.

Although subtle touching had always been theirs, they had stopped for a while.

“No, no, I get it,” he smiled to himself, gently nudging her. “That’s just— I didn’t know about it.”

She looked at a makeup brush, and tried focusing on herself. “Yeah I never…” She paused. “I mean it wasn’t a big deal, it was… you know, moments and such,” she whispered.

Tom couldn’t hide it, so he tried walking away, hanging his shirt and bringing the steam press. “Right, that’s romance to you, the moment and everything.”

Y/N was the one now watching him from the mirror. “Yeah, you know me, I'm ridiculous.”

Tom met her gaze, “No, you, you really aren’t.”

She took a heavy breath with her eyes speaking more than her words, maybe she was feeling it, too. How it was them. Her eyes were hopeful but scared. She shook her head. “Well, you can keep it or you can give it back to me, it’s okay.”

Tom coughed. “I—that’s why I have been avoiding you,” he explained. “I dunno what to do with it.”

Y/N spent a long time staring at the colors in her makeup palette. Tom stared at her, how much she’d changed. How much they both changed.

“I hadn’t realized I gave you that many flowers,” Tom mentioned. He never seemed to realize how many times he’d just shown up with flowers. Yellow. Pink. Red. White. Blue. Flowers came to them like kisses. A flower was a kiss, and a flower led to a kiss. She’d give him flowers too.

“Yeah.”

There was silence.

Tom really wanted to say more. He really believed that she was feeling it, too. He cleared his throat, turning to the clothes instead. “How does this…?” He stared at the steamer.

“I have no idea how that works, don’t use it, you’ll end up burning it,” she admitted. “Didn’t you have another shirt? Didn’t you bring like three? And another suit?”

“Yeah, but I liked this one and I gave the other to Harry.” He sighed and then walked to the closet, taking out two other shirts. He brought it back to the bathroom mirror, placing both on top of his chest. “Hm.”

Y/N stopped applying whatever she was applying to her eye and stared. “Oh, the blue one. We’ll match,” she coughed. “I… No, we don’t have to…”

“No, no, I like that, it’s the wedding theme…”Tom nodded, noticing her embarrassment. “Yeah, but… what suit?”

“The one with the buttons?” She suggested. “You’ll look nice.”

Tom took a deep breath staring at the options. “And when did you take all those Polaroids?” He wanted to meet her gaze again.

Was this love?

She looked up. “Most of them were candid, I bet I could sell a few of those to some paps,” she chuckled.

“Earn some cash,” he rolled his eyes.

“I’d better keep them to myself,” she admitted, nonchalant. “I dunno when I took them, I found the time.”

“Right… Yeah well I found it.”

“The suit?”

“The journal.”

“Ah…. right,” she cleared her throat and finally met his gaze.

Tom stuck his tongue out, “And I—had some sort of crisis because well.”

Y/N stopped. “Yeah, it’s—Looking back at it…” She cleared her throat. “It’s still.”

Tom chuckled, dryly. “Yeah, it’s just….” He gulped. “Interesting, and then looking at us now,” he smiled. “All decent and friendly.”

Silencing himself, sure, decently and friendly. But not… good.

“We were decent back then,” she stated, sarcastically.

“I—yeah but I mean, we were really in love,” Tom mumbled.

She looked down. “We were.”

It hurt. “I’m...I’m going to change so, eyes over there,” he warned.

She laughed, “You've been walking around in only a towel. I don’t really need to have a look.”

Tom smirked, “Yes but it’s just a taste, I won’t give you a full meal.”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t want to see it, actually. I don’t need to, If I wanted to see you naked I’d only have to close my eyes, idiot, I can just imagine it.”

He let out one single laugh, “Do you do that often?” He smirked.

“No,” she answered simply but winked at him.

Was she flirting? Tom had to only wonder. He didn’t believe she was. He knew firsthand how she flirted. This wasn’t it.

He didn’t know if she had tried to sneak a peek, but he had walked back to her with the suit back on. She probably hadn’t. “Or… should I change the shirt?”

Y/N smiled warmly, “No, you look very handsome,” she admitted adjusting the collar of his neck.

He blushed, slightly. “At the end of the day, bringing back…. The previous conversation, I mean, we both know there was no one to blame.”

She turned back to her makeup, almost done now. “Yeah, there’s no villain here, it would be useless trying to find one.”

He took out two lotions and showed them both to her, as she pointed at her favorite. “I wasn’t right and you weren’t wrong but…”

“Yeah you weren’t wrong and I wasn’t right either.”

Tom knew he had to bring it up. “And… are we going to talk about last night?” He was nervous. The night before she had almost leaned over but he had panicked and backed away. “How you tried to—“

Y/N squinted her eyes, “I—sorry I yes—I’m very sorry, I got caught up in the moment and I was kinda drunk.”

Of course.

Tom coughed. “No, I—I understand.” But he wished he didn’t. Or he wished he hadn’t backed away. “I’m sorry for—“

“No! Don’t apologize! You did the right thing—I was just— I won’t do it again. I know we are friends and I want to remain friends because that way we both can be together,” she was saying mostly to herself. “As friends I mean. We can—yeah.”

Tom watched her. He wanted her to try again but of course he would never mention it. “Yes and I well—I think we both, I don’t know, maybe it’s the wedding because—“was he going to tell her that he had also wanted that.

How weird it had been, her getting drunk and claiming he had been ignoring her. Him accepting he had and that he would’ve called in the morning when they were more-sober.

Y/N cleared her throat. “Yeah, yeah, weddings get everyone in a romantic mood ,” she confessed but then blushed. “No, no—I mean—It just—drives everyone crazy and—“

Tom gulped. “Yeah… but uh, we-we are good right?” He was scared she was angry that he’d backed away but when it happened a million things had come to his head. Not that he had not wanted to kiss her but he didn’t want it to be that way. Not drunk again. Not after a night out when they’d regret it in the morning and blame it on the alcohol. No, he wanted something where they both wanted it. Not making up for anything. Just—a kiss because they both wanted it.

Y/n nodded as she fixed her hair, nervously. “Yes of course, all good…. And I’m glad we had that conversation… While looking for Harry…” she reminded him. It had been a good conversation. She walked away to her dress. “Well, I think the dress is… not as cold and wet.”

Tom followed after. It was… ruined. The once beautiful dress was partially ruined with rain and was stained with… what Tom would say was dirt, or mud. Just slightly at the bottom. “you should wear the hoodie,” he suggested. “It’s also blue.”

She looked down at it, sky blue, it could techincally work, if it weren’t for the fact it was a wedding. “I know, right? It’s elegant.”

Tom grinned. “no but… we could try using that steamer?”

She looked at it, skeptically. “No,” she answered simply. “I’d rather catch a cold than ruin this dress… well.” She left to put it on.

Tom was left alone with his thoughts, which didn’t help.He knew that the problem was that he technically could go after her. There was barely anything stopping him. Except for the fact that they were friends.

“help me with the zipper, please?” She asked, walking over to him.

This felt like love.

He had to refrain himself from trying to kiss her neck so he decided to distract himself. “Don’t you think it’s crazy?” He asked as he zipped her up. “A wedding under the rain?” Without anticipating his movements his hands landed on her waist

“I think it’s crazier to drink cold coffee from yesterday,” she answered with a smirk, turning around. He kept his arms around her.

Tom blushed, cackling softly. “You’re never letting that go, are you?”

Y/n grinned walking away from him, Tom took his hands back to himself. “I am not.”

She looked for something in her bag, her jewelry. She walked back and handed him the necklace, Tom helped her with it.

The ballerina. A ballerina he’d given her.

Tom gulped but didn’t mention anything. How could he?

She had to take a deep breath as she felt his hands tracing against her skin. Tom noticed the sudden movement and slowed down. He got closer to see the tiny clip on it. His breath fanning against her neck.

“You know it’s, funny,” he started, still barely an inch far away. “I was just thinking about it, that before I, well, I ever admitted out loud I had a crush on you I used to describe you as a cold cup of coffee that was left to sit for a day.”

She turned to him as she was finishing with the earrings, they were too close and he didn’t take a step back, as she now needed help to get her bracelet. “Oh?”

Tom smirked with mischief as he wrapped the bracelet in her hand, bringing it close to his sight. “Yeah.”

“And, now that you’ve tried it?” Her gaze was searching for his. “Does the description hold up?”

Tom knew it was his moment to shine. “Absolutely, yes, very disgusting.”

She rolled her eyes as she nodded knowingly, “I’ll take notes of that, thank you, I’ll add it to my dating profile.”

Tom didn’t like the sound of that. “Oh you’re—you’re on a dating app?”

Y/N seemed to be the one to notice the reaction this time, Tom could see a sense of pride becoming her as she packed her makeup. “Oh no I was just joking.”

Tom saw the reflection in the mirror. He couldn’t tell if she was lying. “Right.”

Y/N did the same thing Tom had before,bringing two perfume bottles for him to smell. One of them he recognized immediately. It was her date night perfume. Or the Tom perfume. He remembered smelling it every time they went out together. And the other one was new, but felt very her still. He’d probably recognized it too.

He chose the second one so he would be able to keep it to himself..

“Yeah because it would be funny to add it to a dating profile,” she said as she sprayed the perfume on herself.

“Yes very-funny yes yes I know,” Tom was getting nervous about the subject. Or the perfume.

Probably both. “But I mean uh if you are then—uh—In a dating app I mean, good luck!” He walked away from her to check elsewhere, looking for his watch.

“Yes, yeah yeah you too—but no I’m… I’m not,” she said. Y/N seemed to be left alone on the other side of the room and it seemed that she didn’t like it as she slowly followed after him.

“Yeah you’re not—“Tom stated and then rethought it. “I don’t think you’d be one to be on a dating app.”

Y/N smiled sweetly, “No, I… like meeting people organically.”

Tom glanced at her. “Maybe you could find someone at the reception!” He suggested it and instantly regretted it. “Maybe Timmy Tim brought some friends!” He didn’t know why he kept talking.

Y/N scrunched her nose. “I know most of his friends, that would be weird.”

Tom was trying to avoid her again. Knowing that minutes before he could’ve kissed her. But didn’t. “Right, but there’s more people ,right?” Repeating the word could distract her.

Y/N wasn’t as eager with this conversation. She headed near the window watching the rain. “Maybe, yeah,” she hugged herself, “ what about you?”

“Oh I’m not—looking for anything I’m very busy.”

She coughed. “Oh, yes, for sure.”

He had been busy, which might have been one of the other thousand reasons why they’d broken up. One that they would easily admit. Both of them had been.

Tom didn’t know where he wanted to go with it. “But I could be your… wingman tonight.”

Y/N chuckled, turning back to him, crossing her arms. “My wingman?”

Tom let a wide smile spread across his face. “Yes.”

“Huh, who would’ve thought, my ex is going to be my wingman.”

Tom shrugged and entertained. “Hey, who better to help you out than a guy who was deeply smitten with you?” He said, “ I’m going to really give a good word about you.”

She rolled her eyes, “I can only imagine, please start with the coffee thing.”

Tom blushed, as he searched for his belt. “Or I could go with the other one.”

Y/N followed to search for her shoes. “Oh?”

They both sat beside each other, so synchronized as they were putting on their shoes. “Yeah, I believe I also used to say you were like rain pouring down on your wedding day.”

Y/N nodded understandingly. “Nice, you get to test out both of those.”

“Lucky me!” He grinned standing up.

“And me, it’s really going to help me find someone if you’re going to tip me in with that.”

“Absolutely,” he grinned. “But you’re doing all the work in that dress.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, embarrassed. “Well, shall we?”

He offered an arm. “We shall.”

She checked her phone. “James is texting me about how I need to go with Emma.”

“I’ll escort you there.”

“What a gentleman,” she grinned, not letting go of his arm. He didn’t mind. “I—I used to say that I’d rather have grounds in my coffee than to spend time with you, so you could add that to your dating profile.”

“Hm, grounds in your coffee.”Tom chuckled. “What’s the verdict now?”

She scrunched her nose. “I—really hate grounds in my coffee.”

Tom sighed. “Oh.”

“Yeah, I was wrong, so you could say you’re better than grounds in your coffee.”

“Ah, excellent.”

Tom finally was at peace with himself. He hadn’t talked about it much but he had always had that tinge of guilt every time he remembered ruining the engagement party, so finally being there was soothing.

Like a reward, of sorts.

The rain kept falling down, not as heavy as before. The bridesmaids would walk down the aisle while the best men were already there. Harry had asked Tom once if he wanted to walk in with them and they could change things up just so he got to walk in with y/n. Tom had declined the offer.

Harry had never given up on them, he was the one to always assure Tom they’d be fine. He had understood the break and had encouraged it. Harry had told him this: “You and y/n started on hatred. If you both build a friendship and then build upon it, nothing will ever break you apart anymore.”

But Harry wasn’t really thinking about Tom and y/n at the moment.

He did think about y/n before, however. How funny fate is, how funny love is. How you think you love someone and then realize, you don’t. Or do, in a very different way.

He found it funny how the ‘girl of his dreams’ had introduced him to the love of his life. Sometimes the unexpected is what you’ve been expecting for the most.

It was funny.

Walking down the aisle was funny to y/n, even as the rain fell down on her gown even under the umbrella. The bridesmaid making their way down the aisle as the rain sprinkled around them. Struggling to not slip and fall, and holding an umbrella that didn’t match her dress.

Tom saw her, with that glowing smile she held, giggling as she walked down holding close to her umbrella. Knowingly, somehow.

Most people were covering from it, colorful umbrellas Harry had gotten.

Tom was already at the end, he had a blue umbrella, she’d chosen the yellow flowered one as he knew she would.

A wedding under the rain. A wedding with people holding umbrellas, unexpectedly romantic. With the garden now puddled and dirty, and the flowers adorning the aisle falling down. A mess.

Like Emma and Harry.

A perfect mess.

And that’s all y/n could think about. When her eyes crossed with his, there was a pain Tom hadn’t felt in a while. So stupid to let her go, how much time had he waited to lay down and have her head upon his heart. And he wished he had had only five minutes more, he should’ve kept fighting for that smile. So close yet so far to each other.

It felt like a million years ago when they were laughing in his bed as he kept trying to guess the song she had thought of. A million years ago when they were dancing in her apartment to that song, from that one movie. With Tom Cruise… Top Gun? No. Mission Impossible? No. Jerry McGuire? No, no. Why was she thinking about Tom Cruise?

Why was Tom Cruise the one thing not leaving her mind? The one distraction y/n had to forget about the other Tom.

A scene from both of them was playing in his eyes, y/n could see, and although it was Emma who would be walking down the aisle as the gentle notes played behind, Tom was the one falling in love all over again. With y/n placing a vinyl on his record player while he wrapped his arms around her. Cooking in his kitchen, barefoot running around his place. Bubble baths that lasted until the water was cold. Laughs merging into one. Picnics at midnight, with cold pancakes or waffles they could a goose from, driving around the city when everyone was quiet and the only whispers they could hear were hers. Waking up by her side, and her asking for five more minutes to dream of that far away land. Even the fights, with both of them being irrational only to end with him pulling her from her waist to kiss her, making it all better. Polaroids and flowers. Polaroids of flowers.

Y/N felt something too, and she didn’t understand what it was. Risky Business. That’s the movie. When Tom Cruise dances.

Y/N couldn’t stop thinking about Tom either as their own film full all flowers played in the background.

And though they both turned their eyes to Emma about to walk in, time had stopped for the both of them.

How had they not fought against the odds? For that one film they wanted.

And though the film had ended up multiple times, they wanted to play it again.

And it was a reminder, as everyone stood up as Emma was about to walk in, with her blue umbrella. With her impeccable makeup and her perfect hair.

A wedding under the rain.

Y/N and Tom decided to break their stare and look at Harry, whose breath was taken away when he saw her, his one and only Emma, under the rain and against all odds about to walk to him.

Y/n could see it in his eyes, how he had never wanted to escape, not really. What he’s done today was an act of pure courage, to get out of everyone’s talk and to get his own thoughts straight. Harry had escaped to tell himself that he was indeed in love with Emma, not that he needed a reminder of it, but as in an assurance. That’s why he’d gone to the park, his very first date with Emma had been there, and to that cage where they had shared a kiss, and though he had claimed to forget it, he’d gone to the place where he’d bought a raincoat for Emma that one time.

Harry had searched for Emma and he had found her, and she was right in front of him. Harry had searched for Emma his whole life and she was right there.

Emma took a deep breath and smiled, giving a smile that only Harry knew. A smile that Harry owned.

Gently, but suddenly abruptly at the same time, Emma decided to let the umbrella fall down to her side so the rain would cover her.

Harry, at first, was intrigued and scared and confused.

Emma gave him another reassuring smile as she took off her shoes, knowing they’d get dirty anyway.

Harry then, dropped the umbrella as well, ignoring everyone’s looks as Emma proceeded to walk under the rain. Or… run to him.

A wedding under the rain. A wedding that was clearly not supposed to happen, yet, it did, with the bride’s makeup getting messed up and the groom’s suit getting soaked.

Against each and every odd, Emma ran to Harry who was at the end of the aisle waiting for her to jump into his arms.

It was bittersweet for Tom and y/n, with their sight not leaving each other. Tom could’ve sworn he saw a single tear fall down her cheek.

As Emma and Harry stumbled down and then back again.

The ceremony was magical, with people forgetting the rain was falling down.

Harry and Emma were claiming their vows but Tom and y/n were still in their own world. Rude, probably, but they just couldn’t look away.

“And I promise that I’ll keep getting umbrellas when the rain falls down,” Harry had said in his vows.

“And I promise that against all odds, I will keep walking under the rain for you.” Emma had said in hers.

Y/N looked sad, her eyes set on Tom as if asking him to get umbrellas so she could walk under the rain for him. And with a single look, Tom made her see, he would, either get umbrellas or walk under the rain if he was given one more chance.

And for a minimal moment they both felt perennial, everlasting, with a single hope to bloom again once more.

But then again, this wasn’t their moment and the wedding had to go on.

Luckily, the reception was under a roof.

Y/N had decided to sit with Tom a long time ago, when helping Emma with the sitting arrangement. ‘I want to sit with him, we are friends’.

But Emma had told her that she’d be having another seat, with friends of theirs from college. A table where Tim and Lily would be sitting at.

Y/N had known she’d end up with Tom, although for a month she had felt she wouldn’t.

There was, however, no trace of the avoiding Tom right now. He’d offered her his jacket as she had walked in with him, her hand locked in his arm.

A few laughs had been shared. The table consisted of James, Clark, Haz and Tuwaine and their girlfriends, Tom and her.

It was obvious that Tom and her were distinctively different. Whispering to each other, giggling with inside jokes.

The conversation had been about Emma only, and how lovely she looked and how incredible it was what she did. How romantic it was, to walk under the rain for the love of your life.

The newlyweds had walked in. Love was in the air, and there were no other two souls in the world more perfect for each other than Harry and Emma. Their smiles were a reflection of the other’s happiness. They both knew that loving each other would be the easiest thing in the world. That no matter how many mountains they had to climb, they still had each other.

Harry and Emma didn’t have to worry about someone ignoring them again, two wild flowers who found themselves.

Their first dance was as lovely as it could be and the wedding continued to go smoothly. One of those cliché things could’ve happened, when Tom would only stare at y/n while she didn’t notice, instead they’d given each other one smile tha said: ‘Not right now’.

They’d both wanted to hold on, but not too tight.

The wedding continued, as it usually does. Because why would time ever stop for them? It hadn’t before. And it wouldn’t today.

“Hey, everyone, I’m y/n.” That’s how y/n’s maid of honor speech started. With a few anecdotes for her two best friends. Fun stories first. Tom listened and laughed even when she made of of the first engagement party.

“I think, you know, that’s their magic, even after our celebrity friend over here—well we know what happened. I think that’s truly their magic, how they’re able to fight against each and every storm, because they fight against it together,” y/n said. “ I always thought you both had it easy, how things just simply happened to you. How I always thought the universe plotted for you…How you both had magic on your side. But today, I realized, it hasn’t. Today, you taught me how you’ve been fighting against each odd, you know? Just defeat the storm, because that’s your magic, you guys don’t need the rainbow or the sunshine above. It’s—you guys, you who can walk under a rainstorm and find happiness under it because you’re together. You, who will go to the other side of the city to find an umbrella to match the wedding theme. And I really admire that. And neither of you take it for granted. Because the both of you know how incredible you both are, and I’m—I am happy to be the one who can take the credit for introducing you both to each other. You guys owe me,” she chuckled and smiled.

She took a deep breath. “you both know what’s it like. And I know, I know I always make everything about flowers, or films or— but I just think you guys are flowers,” y/n smiled at them. “ You see, while I worked at the shop I learned about these kinds of flowers. Everything about them. How they hold meaning to each other, and sometimes without knowing it, we tell a story with flowers. I remember Harry always gave you daisies, Emma. Daisy flowers symbolize new beginnings and rebirth, in addition to love, and and—cheerfulness, and beauty, purity, innocence, hope, fun, and affection… and I think that’s the magic of you. Your innocence and beauty and how you are reborn each time.”

Emma and Harry snuggled against each other.

“There are—several kinds of flowers. Perennials, and annuals. Annuals simply bloom once and you have to replant them, and most relationships are meant to be like that. Just once… while perennials, they are— they bloom each spring. Everlasting. And they—Against all odds, after a hard cold winter season they bloom again. So I think you guys are perennial flowers, who found each other, and against all odds, keep blooming. So here’s to Harry, and Emma—our perennial flowers who will keep blooming against each and every odd as they showed us they can today.”

Another few other speeches, Tom wouldn’t forget what she had said, against all odds.

“Here you go,” Tom said sitting beside y/n and offering her her glass after they’d both come back from dancing along with a group and came back to catch their breath.

She looked up with a tender smile. “Thank you.”

Tom took a deep breath watching her, wondering if he was supposed to ask about it, what they’d both felt during the ceremony.

Tom cleared his throat instead, “So, who do you fancy?”

“Hm?” Y/N looked up from her drink.

“I’m your wingman for the night, remember?”

“Ah, right.” She gave a look around the place, and landed her eyes back on him. “No one really has caught my eye.”

Tom reached out to fix a lost strand of hair, making her blush. “Why not?”

She gave him a sheepish smile. “Dunno.”

Tom tried ignoring it, looking away. He hadn’t noticed how close their hands were on the table, barely half an inch close. His sigh was too focused on the crowd. “How about Haz? Tuwaine?” He mentioned, turning back to his table as his friends were currently laughing at something.

Y/N nudged him, rolling her eyes. “Lovely idea, my ex's best friends! Who both have dates.”

Tom grinned at her. “They’re handsome.”

“They are,” she turned to see them. “but I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Tom hummed and turned around back to the crowds, she approached her chair.

“Oh my God, that girl is trying to hit on Clark,” y/n whispered to his ear.

Tom followed her gaze and snorted. “Man is wearing that and she thinks he’s straight?” His laugh was meant for her to hear only. “Five bucks that James will go and take away his husband,” Tom mumbled.

“Oh, no, I’m not betting.”

“Why not?” Tom frowned, looking back at her.

“Because—“She tilted her head back to the scene as James had come to wrap an arm around his husband. “James can’t stand the idea that Clark is undoubtedly the most handsome man here.”

Tom side glanced, “Really?”

“One hundredth percent, yes,” she snickered as she watched him, her eyes sparkled watching him. “Too bad he’s gay, and not bi, I would’ve already tried stealing him from James if it wasn’t for that.”

Tom grimaced, “uh-huh.”

“Yeah,” she teased, subtly resting her hand on his shoulder. “I would’ve asked for your help. ”

Tom without thinking about it, reached for her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers. He knew what it meant. But was it only the wedding or were they really ready?

“My help?”

“Yes, You know a thing or two about stealing your siblings love interest,” she smirked.

Tom opened his mouth in shock, “you’re fucking done.”

She slightly pushed him away. “Am I wrong?”

This felt like love, laughing with her. He leaned slightly, jokingly frowning and letting go of her hand. “You’re being really rude to your wingman. I’m not helping you anymore.”

She leaned over, wrapping her arms around him, “please, no, help me out.”

Tom made the mistake of looking into her eyes, quickly trying to get away from her.

“Hm let’s see who else, uh I see Ben over there, you see him?” he pointed at a close friend of theirs. “Ben is that handsome guy, he is a business man now, very important, want me to introduce you?”

Y/N laughed. “I know Ben,” she clarified. “you do realize I know most people here, right? Especially Ben, I’ve seen Ben try to open a beer bottle with his teeth•

“And you don’t find that attractive?” Tom teased.

She sighed. “I do, but i think he’s way out of my league because of that.”

Tom slapped his knee, “Yes he definitely is, he really is a catch,” he laughed. “But okay give me something to work here.”

“I…” She scrunched her nose. “I…sorry, I—guess I haven’t moved on from my previous love interest.”

Tom cleared his throat. He started to sweat.

“How can I?” She continued. “I mean look at her,” she pointed at Emma. “I despise your brother for stealing her from me. I should be the one marrying her, she’s stunning

Tom forced a laugh. “Ah, yes.”

“So sad, but I guess I can live with it,” Y/N said.

Tom followed her gaze, Harry and Emma giggling against each other, with Harry covering her with a blanket. Both of them with their hair messed up from the rain still, poking their wedding cake and poking each other.

Tom groaned. “They are disgustingly adorable.”

Y/N laughed. “Truly, their love is an aberration from its cuteness,” she faked disgust.

“The way they look at each other, truly an offence.”

Y/N took a deep breath. “Yeah.”

“They really don’t care about the world around them,” Tom pointed out and turned back to y/n, now her gaze away from them.

“They don’t have to, they’re soulmates,” she reminded him with a smile.

“I thought you didn’t believe in those,” Tom pointed out.

She took a deep breath. “I do, I don’t, I…I dunno, but they’re the closest thing to it, just the way that they grew past the storm, they literally….” She threw her hands in the air. “They literally walked under a storm to marry each other and they….” As if she was still trying to believe it. “and how even if her flowers were ruined or her dress… and everything… she didn’t mind because he was there, you know? That’s romance.”

Tom smiled. “It really is, let’s find you that.”

Y/N was shocked. “Hm?”

“I’m your wingman,” he reminded her. “Let’s get you a date.”

She rolled her eyes, laughing desperately. “Why are you so desperate to find me a date?”

Tom shrugged. “I want that for you, whatever Harry and Emma have.”

She licked her lips watching the couple drunkenly head to the dancefloor. “I used to have it.”

Tom looked up. “Right, with Emma.”

There was a knowing silence. Both of them watching people dance, people from their past, people from their present and mabe from the future.

“Hm how about Peter?” Tom asked after a while.

“Hm, Peter is cute I guess,” she agreed.

“Huh, didn’t see him as your type,” Tom frowned slightly. No, it wasn’t jealousy. Or was it? Could he really be hurt about a stupid comment from a girl he’d been broken up with for a year now. It was stupid.

“He’s not but that’s worked out before,” she chuckled.

Tom pursed his lips and then smirked. “Or… That guy over there, he’s my Uncle Paul, he is very fun, he actually loves the same music as you do, no surprise since he lived in that era, he is a fan of strawberry muffins and-”

“And old.”

“Ah, what’s 60 years of difference, it’s nothing these days, y/n.”

“What’s his sign, then?” She asked.

“A capricorn, see? He is a catch y/n, I could set you up,” Tom smirked.

She laughed. “No, as big of a catch he is I think his wife would be bothered by it.”

“Psh, I’m sure my aunt Petunia wouldn’t mind,” Tom said, laughing. “No, no, come on, I’ll get you and Peter talking but first, let’s dance.”

Tom did what any insane ex boyfriend would do and with all the pain in his heart. He danced with her. And there was that feeling again, as they both approached each other, when his head rested on her shoulder as they swayed around.

“I really liked your speech,” Tom said.

“It was improv,” she confessed. “I liked yours better, had more comedy to it.”

He held her close. “You really admire that from them, huh?”

“Jealous of how they managed to get through it? Yes. I’m jealous, honestly. How they didn’t give up.”

Tom sighed. “They did, at some point.”

“I guess, but not this—, you know?”

“Yeah, but they’re them.”

“And we’re us.”

Tim watched Tom and y/n from a distance. Tim had gotten his own closure.

It seemed that Tom didn’t and Tim was perfectly aware of it. It was sad.

Very sad to see how the guy had blew it up. Bad kept blowing it up.

They were yearning for each other. Dancing, laughing at first, more serious now. Tom swirling her around, letting her head fall down with grace, debuting their own kind of silly dances. Y/N laughing and looking into his eyes.

And Tim could tell y/n missed him. She had confessed it to Tim, how she was scared that she’d blown up every significant relationship she’d ever had when it came to the point of getting somewhere. How she had pushed everyone she loved away.

Y/N had those kind of eyes that Tim knew. Y/N was begging to be loved. How stupid of Tom, Timothee thought, to have someone like her beg for his love.

And he could see it from there, how she was holding on to Tom as if she never wanted to let him go.

Yet she did, and Tom, stupidly had introduced her to Peter, one of Tom’s friends. Tim could tell that neither Tom nor y/n wanted this.

But there he went, Tom had so easily handed y/n to Peter, as if trying to make Peter get y/n out of his mind.

Tim watched Tom. Wondering if Tom would find his Lily, too. Or if y/n was supposed to be his endgame.

Tim disagreed with Tom, mostly because he hadn’t fought for y/n this last time. Tim knew they’d simply just… broken up. But it had come way before that. Tim had slowly seen both of them give up. It was sad to see them both run out of excuses.

Tim thought initially y/n was tired from dragging her problems, and although they’d promised to take about it, they both ended up ignoring them.

Though, Tim did see how their friendship worked. And it was a true friendship, even if they both had to look away and take a deep breath each time they walked into the room.

Tim knew that they’d solved all their “marital” problems when apart. They’d talked about it, because they didn’t have the pressure of the relationship.

And so it was formed, and although y/n had always claimed she was happy, it had been the night before when y/n had drunkenly knocked on his door to tell how much she missed Tom as something else.

How tired was she of giving him signals and him ignoring them, or avoiding them. That she knew they were friends, but that she was still deeply and even more now insanely in love with him.

Tim knew Tom was too, but Tom was an idiot.

Tom’s eyes were glued on the dancing y/n. Peter and her swirling on the dance floor as she would only smile. Tom didn’t look away, he wasn’t jealous. One, because he couldn’t be, she was just a friend enjoying herself and two, because he knew he had nothing to worry about. Peter and her were only dancing.

But Tom felt wrong. He really missed dancing with her. Really dancing and having it mean something. Because now whatever they did didn’t mean anything, it couldn’t. But Tom smiled, his eyes beaming as he saw her, as usual, with a dress that may have been chosen by Emma but she’d made hers.

Tom didn’t miss, however, that feeling that anyone in the room was looking at her and feeling like someone could steal her, so easily. Tom’s infatuation had led him to always anticipate how he’d feel when she’d walk in, blushing, flushed. He had become familiar with it, hiding his emotions. He was really good at hiding, no matter if his anticipation was far from it. Just when he thought he’d control himself, he’d always be stung. How incredible it was, how someone like her still had him wrapped around her finger. Someone so different from him, with her flowers and vinyls and her aesthetic, and her wild mind, always running away from him.

He knew she had dated, but he didn’t want to know who and he didn’t care. He wondered if she’d felt the same way, like no one could ever make her feel the way he could. Because he believed that, no one would ever make him feel the way she did. Good and bad. As if emotions were just dialed up. And that now that he knew her, he didn’t need to know anyone else. Learning about anyone else wasn’t as exciting.

Tom had once thought about it, having her for one weekend. He wished he could come back just for a weekend, to have her smile and know he was the reason for it. He knew he eventually would break down for it, all roads eventually lead to her. Maybe he could tell her that he still felt the same for her, did she feel the same? To think they once owned the world. Maybe asking to rule the world was too much.

And he didn’t want a weekend as a one night stand, but he wished for a weekend, only a weekend would suffice. But would it?

He had to behave now. They weren’t alone anymore.

Tom then feared as he saw y/n throwing her head back laughing. He feared Peter would find out how amazing y/n was. He feared y/n would find out that she could laugh with other people too.

Tom had to stand up, to get a drink if he was going to keep dealing with this. He didn’t wait for someone to come ask him, he headed to the bar directly. Gin and tonic, just to pity himself and his lack of courage.

“You’re an idiot,” someone had said behind Tom.

Tom, taking the first sip of his drink and trying not to choke turned to face Timothee. “I thought we were past our discourtesy.”

Tim shook his head, “We are, I’m telling you as a friend or… whatever we are.”

Tom shrugged, “Acquaintances.”

Tim tilted his head, ordering a drink, “Fair enough.”

“Or members of the same club,” Tom nodded.

Tim chuckled, “It hurts, doesn’t it.”

Tom took a deep breath, watching her. “Yeah, a bit,” he lied. “But I’m happy with…. Our friendship.”

Tom downed his drink and ordered another one.

“Careful,” Tim warned, “we both know what alcohol and an Emma and Harry party do to you.”

Tom laughed. “I already gave my speech so we need not to worry.”

They remained quiet, Tom still watching y/n.

Tim shook his head. “I’ll never understand what went wrong with both of you.”

“Too much history can kill you,” Tom shrugged.

“No,” Tim said simply. “I think you’re just an idiot.”

“That I am,” Tom agreed.

“I’ve kept seeing you both, she is hinting it and you back away.”

Tom coughed. “We are friends.”

“Yeah, keep believing that bullshit.”

Tom rolled his eyes. “We, on the other hand, are not, Timmy.”

Tim grinned. “Do you still love her?”

“She’s my friend.”

Tim pointed his drink at Tom. “I didn’t ask that.” “I—“

“Do you?”

Tom was in the spotlight, but now the drink on his hand was speaking for him. “Well yes I do love her I just—I tried okay? Moving on and I thought I’d magically wake up one day and I wouldn’t love her anymore but—“

“That shit doesn’t happen.”

“Yeah, yeah, that shit doesn’t happen,” Tom agreed..lAnd I don’t want to be this miserable idiot that wakes up everyday waiting for her—“

Tim shrugged. “I was that idiot for a while.”

“How the fuck did you do it?” Tom questioned. “Because I can’t—it hurts so fucking much.”

“I never stopped trying,” Tim said. “You did.”

“And where did that lead you?” Tom rolled his eyes.

Timothee smiled, genuinely. “I met Lily. It seems like y/n has this magic of introducing you to the love of your life. She did with me, with Harry, and Emma of course, I think even with Sam, right?”

“So I have to make her introduce me to someone else.”

“No, no, that would be very fucking stupid from you,” Tim snapped.

“Then what?”

“Don’t be a fucking idiot,” Tim begged Tom. “Can’t you see it? She never fought for me, or for Harry. Yet she fought for you, and you should fight for her, you are meant for each other.”

Tom sighed. “No. She doesn’t want that.”

Tim watch with irony and not believing what he was hearing. “You kidding, right?”

“I would love that,” Tom was exasperated by him. “But what I would love right now is to move on, how did you?”

“She loves you, that’s how I moved on, she loves you. And she will never fucking stop loving you.”

Tom sighed. “She deserves better. Someone who hasn’t hurt her—someone like Peter.”

“Maybe, but she wants you,” Tim was as stressed now. “And you’re so stupid because you want her, too. Love is not about fucking deserving, it’s about being fucking brave. You’ve lost her before. You’ve always acted like it’s your last chance and life keeps pulling you back together as if you had fucking magnets for each other, for once let it pull you and don’t fuck it up..”

“How do you know she wants me?”

Tim was strong and he thanked he was strong because otherwise he would’ve murdered the man standing in front of him.

He took a deep breath. “She told me just last night, how she can’t deal with it anymore how she wants to risk a goodbye just to get close to you.”

Tom only sighed.

“I’m serious, man. Really think about it,” Tim warned him. “I only moved on because I knew she’d be the happiest with you. And I had to live with it, and— then it grew into me, and I swear, it was… easy, because I could tell she was happy with you. And she truly was her best when she was with you. And—then.”

“I didn’t blow it up, not—by myself, at least….it was a mutual breakup, you know? And neither of us wanted it, not really.”

“Perhaps not. But you’re blowing it up right now, so I would go for her—“Tim stopped himself. “Oh but , word of advice,” Tim said just as he was about to go. “It’s y/n we are talking about, don’t just get drunk and sleep with her after you tell how you feel about her.

“Ah, there goes my plan,” Tom rolled his eyes.

“No, just—do whatever you do that charms her, as usual.”

It felt like the one thing Tom needed to hear. It was as if Tim was giving him his blessing. Not that Tom needed it but it was nice to have. He new he had his blessing from everyone.

And he kept watching y/n dance from a distance, he smiled watching her struggling with Peter and his tremendous dance moves.

Tom at that moment decided something. He loved seeing y/n happy and she seemed to be happy at that precise moment.

Y/N on the other hand had decided things for herself. She had changed throughout these years and she still wondered if she’d donde the right thing. One doesn’t suddentl fall for their enemy one night because they weren’t really the enemy.

Dancing that night y/n realized he never truly was an enemy, an enemy is usually a stranger and he’d never been one to her heart.

She did regret they couldn’t dance as much as she wanted to but she didn’t regret that night either.

It was funny how everything was setting in front of them, like an old dvd or a on journal or a worn out script.

That one night after the wedding, they had ended up together, but not in the sense that one would have thought they would.

They spent the night laughing with each other, bringing out an old script and scratching things and rewriting. Going through the very journal Tom had found in his drawer and realizing that they were neither the script with ugly undertones or the journal with a pink gaze.

Their love wasn’t like Harry’s umbrellas and their love wasn’t like Emma’s brave act. Their love wasn’t Tim’s film canister or Cherry’s flowers.

Their love was theirs and though they were not seeing it that night, they both knew they owned it.

“What is love to you?” Tom had asked. “I think Harry and Emma made me doubt my meaning of it.”

“They know what it is.”

“So what is love to you?” He asked again.

“When?” She asked.

“When?”

“What love is depends on when,” y/n explained. “Love can be anything. It could be a rose in Rome, a stolen peony in New York or a meaningful yellow daffodil in Los Angeles.”

“Flowers then.” Tom laughed.

“It can also be a ballerina necklace, or a fight, or depends on the time.”

“Well—“

“It can also be my favorite film, you know? Dirty Dancing, or it can be dancing for your movie. It can be red wine and homemade pasta, or it could be cold pancakes in a tree house.”

Tom just watched her.

“I think love finds its way to be, you know? Love can be walking under a storm or buying umbrellas.”

“What is love now, then?”

“I dunno, for the moment I really don’t know.”

Days went by after that one night, y/n had caught a terrible cold from the wedding.

Y/N had gone back to her apartment and the sun was bursting through the curtains on that one very day. She’d opened the window to listen to the singing birds, she could smell the rain from the day before and she was feeling better. The sun had found it’s way out.

She decided to go out, to forget the one night that had gone through her mind. She’d texted Timmy asking if she should text Tom and there was a hint of disappointment on Timmy when he’d learned Tom hadn’t called her.

Was y/n really trying to forget the night or maybe trying to remember it forever. How funny life is, isn’t it?

What was love? She had to keep thinking about it.

She bought a flower and the streets were colorless, the city was busy and everyone was just bursting and talking through their phones, but she was quiet, because she was looking at the sun. The sunflower and her were kissed by the very last ray of sunshine.

Was love this sunflower?

No, love should’ve meant staying.

She knew the sun would go away soon, it would rain again. So she’d go home and pity herself.it would be an evening when she didn’t want to go out . Cozy with that big blue sweatshirt she’s stolen from Tom from that wedding day.

Love should be kissing the night before the wedding.

She thought about binging through a netflix show as the sun would yawn.

Love should have been kissing on the cheek while zipping up a dress.

She’d lost all hope. She felt it, with that cold cup of tea in her hands, as she was staring at the window, watching as the night slowly dawns its way dark, and shed lost her hope, she didn’t know what love was.

Had she not known it her whole life? Was love… never what she thought it was?

She had popcorn microwaving, and a pot for her tea waiting. Rain was splattering against her window, a storm was only making her lose the track of thought that would lead her to know what love is.

This wasn’t love. Love would’ve meant calling. Love would've meant showing up. Love—

Her phone was ringing, and her house was chaos. Adding to it, the thunders clapped. The movie was playing and everything, everything was going crazy.

Someone rang the door, probably the pizza, but the chaos was too loud. She could keep up with it. She needed the answer to her question first. What was love?

And the phone kept ringing, and the pot was whistling now, and the thunder kept clapping.

Was love calling?

She needed the answer, what was love? Was it flowers and Polaroids? Was it sleepless nights in New York and fights in LA? Was it walking under the rain in London?

But suddenly, as she found herself opening the door. She knew it, she’d always know what love was.

And love was soaking and shaking from the rain holding a soaked yellow sunflower flower with a soaked shoe box that once meant love.

Love had a promise to be perennial, everlasting and bloom against the odds.

And she knew the answer then…

Love was… them.

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